#like sex is great AND all of the above
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Iâll still never understand these âsex is great butâ posts. all youâre doing is trying to compare totally incomparable things, and then make a completely generalized and opinionated comment about how the second thing is always better than sex. youâre doing sex wrong if you canât have it be gentle and intimate, if it canât also mean youâre talking and giggling and learning about each other, as if it canât mean taking hours for foreplay and touching and truly getting to know every crevice and curve and line of the others body, AS IF there arenât people who use sex as their one thing that keeps them sane/their emotions at bay/gives them the release they need. sex is great, and so it learning every little detail, and so is cooking together and feeding them, and so is holding hands under a warm blanket, and so is cuddling in the moonlight. There is no but, there is only additionally ~
#anyway short rant?? I fucking hate it lmao#like sex is great AND all of the above#nothing in my life is more intimate and knowing than having sex with my person that Iâve fucked for a decade now#NOTHING is comparable to the feeling of his touch and how he wants me and holds me#romantic things and intimate things are cohesive and can be shared#thoughts#bunni speaks
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Can't vote for Biden and his vicious and cruel destruction of title ix. Really embarrassing that Dems have mainly left it to the right to try to defend it, and it's not like I can vote for them because they also hate women just in different ways. Shat on by the left, shat on by the right, women are in an awful situation
i'm posting this so we can all deconstruct what a far right psyop ask looks like.
on first read, this looks like someone who wishes they could be confident in voting blue but they're bummed by the democrats in office. targets title ix for their ire but doesn't really explain, perhaps assuming i'm out of touch and will just react instead of doing my due diligence (bad bet: i'm an attorney). uses over the top dramatic language like "vicious." they equate the left and right as being identical and indicates they won't be voting for either, with the implication that i shouldn't either, but goes on to blame the dems specifically for...something.
look at the very specific way they've couched this sentence:
Really embarrassing that Dems have mainly left it to the right to try to defend it,
i'm not meant to fight them on this. i'm meant to be embarrassed to be voting blue in november, i'm meant to blame democrats for abandoning some law, and i'm meant to recognize the right as upholding it.
title ix, if you didn't know, bans sex-based discrimination in schools and education. when someone tells you about democrats destroying title ix, that someone is a TERF.
and TERFs largely have aligned with the conservative hard right. I'll link a few articles at the bottom with detailed explainers, but for right here it's enough to say that TERFs want the far right to win because the far right is voting with them on their single issue, which is the destruction of trans rights and the ouster of trans and gnc women from public spaces. TERFs have marched with the Proud Boys. TERFs have partnered with anti-lgbtq groups to advance their anti-trans agenda. they will throw every other issue under the bus repeatedly if their anti-trans agenda wins.
and, importantly, the far right recognizes that TERFs are a tool they can use to destablize the left. the far right knows that as long as they will align with TERFs on this single issue, which they will because they too want to enforce the gender binary and traditional gender roles, TERFs will vote for and with them regardless of every single other issue. not only that, but the far right knows TERFs are a modern movement that's gained traction in social media spaces over the last several years, and they are relying on TERFs to send asks like this one to infiltrate spaces like tumblr and twitter and tiktok to encourage would-be blue voters not to vote because they want the far right to win.
this is a psyop. this is, whether formalized or not, a psychological operation intended to discourage voting in and among the left.
don't fall prey. vote blue in november.
I like this one because they have this great graph that specifically points out the link between TERFism, the far right, and disinformation attempts like the ask above.
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Kiss Me More!
Synopsis. Thereâs always something that makes him lose control - and you love pushing those buttons.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rough sĂ©x, unprotected, bodyworshĂp, stuff with pantĂes, brĂ©eding, slight exhĂbitionism (Sukunaâs), Nanami and Geto are a bit mean, overstĂm, finger suckĂng, dacryphĂlia (Getoâs), pet names, swearing.
Word count. 5.1k
A/N. Bro my laptop crashed thrice trynna write this um.
⥠TOJI FUSHIGURO - âRaw?!â
Great, Toji thinks, heâs finally lost it.
Because sooner have the words left your swollen lips, all the blood goes rushing to his achingly hard cock - so swollen and already leaking hot precum all over your trembling thighs. Some dark, primal part of himself being poked so dangerously awake.
âAre ya sure, doll?â he breathes, and the words come out ragged - pained even. Like some part of himself wanted you to save no, was begging you to say no - for his own sanity. Because just the thought of your pretty lilâ cunt wrapped around his cock makes him feel lightheaded. âWe donât-â
âI wanâ to,â you give him a determined little nod. Spreading your legs further and oh Toji lets out a hoarse grunt at the heavenly sight. Hanging on your every word as you continue, âWhatâs the worst that can happen?â
That was hours ago - oh, how foolish you were.Â
You never thought that those would be the words that make your poor boyfriend snap. That it would only take him just barely grazing his angry, weeping tip between your puffy folds. Up and down up and down up and- down went every rational thought.Â
Too depraved. Too lost in the feeling of finally having you and your soft pussy and you-
âC-canât believe youâve been ngh- fuckinâ holdinâ out on m-me.â He was in heaven, making you cum over and over and-
And you were clawing limply at the drenched sheets, the headrest, Tojiâs shoulders - just anything and everything for some semblance of sanity.Â
âT-Toji-â you sob, âSâtoo much. I- ngh- canât anymore-â
âFuck! Been hah- holdinâ out on me.â he groans, like a mantra. Brows furrowing as he squeezes his swollen cock harder into your plushy walls. And if it was any other time then Toji mightâve almost been embarrassed at the way his sentence cracks ever-so-slightly at the end. Choking out, âOne more- gimme j-jusâ one more.â
âBut-â Big, fat tears roll down your burning cheeks as large fingers dip down to toy your sensitive clit between them - no rhythm or rhyme, just to get you off. âYou said the p-previous one would ngh- b-be the last.â
Ah, you were so cute blabbering out little pleas. And the only response you get is a devilish smirk, Tojiâs darkened, hooded eyes boring into yours as he hums, âDid I? I donât remember.â
He did remember. Very well, in fact as he pushed you to your nth orgasm tonight. And it took everything in him to hold off his high as he fucked you through yours, whispering out hollow promises about it being the âlast timeâ and just âone moreâ.Â
âSâokay-â Toji nips playfully at your wobbling lips. Salty with the taste of your overstimulated tears. âOne more- you can mmpf- cum fâme once more, right?âÂ
And Tojiâs barely-there sense of rationality in him knows he should slow down. Ease up his bruising grp on your hips. Have at least some shred of concern as he fucks your quivering cunt rougher, like his personal sex toy more than anything.Â
Yet, no, right now he couldnât even think straight. Too focused on how your moans were so sweet. Lips so pretty screaming out his name. Snug cunt too fucking heavenly when you cum all over his cock, squeezing him like your slutty lilâ pussy was trying to milk the fucking soul out of him. So hard and addicted that Toji was hooked.Â
You mewl a delirious little, âH-hooked?â Batting your hazy eyes up at the monster above you, who seemed well and fully intent on making you cum until you couldnât anymore. âY-youâre hooked?â
Whoops, did he say that out loud? Seems you werenât the only one that was completely and utterly wrecked here.Â
âShhh,â Toji drops his head once more to kiss away your adorable pout - the one that only makes his balls squeeze so painfully. âJust focus on how ngh- fuckinâ food ya feel, pretty.â Fingers erratic on your throbbing clit, just soaked in your sweet juices. Moving deftly to spell out a messy T-O-J-I. Over and over and- âAfter all, this hah- pussy now belongs to me now, right?â
And itâs all you can do to give a delirious little nod, words slurring together as you hiss a low, âY-yours- Sâall for- ngh- you-â Hips bucking wildly underneath his strong figure. âClose- mâgonna cum, Toji-â
The only response you get is a guttural groan of what sounded like your name - followed shortly by a string of profanities as Toji speeds up his abuse on your cunt. One hand reaching out to grip onto the headboard, so hard that if you were in any better state of mind the two of you would have registered the sharp snap!Â
The other almost-feverish on your poor clit - like it hurt to not have you cumming all over his cock now. Spelling his name over and over and-
âOh Iâll let ya cum-â Hips stuttering and so so sloppy now. Sounding like his sanity was dancing away every time his hips slapped bruisingly against yours. âGonna make you c-cum so ha- hard youâll forget everything else-â
Youâre letting out strangled little gasps in response, hips torn between running away and fucking down for more more more-
âFuck- hope youâre on the pill, doll.â
⥠NANAMI KENTO - Painted white
âWhoops.â
Nanami well and fully thinks that itâs your fault he feels less of a man than some monster right now. He acts like it, too, holding back a sultry little smile as he fucks you deeper and deeper into the mattress.Â
Close - too close.Â
Close enough that heâs immediately pulling out of your snug cunt. So fucking difficult with the way youâre sucking him up so good - but oh was it worth it watching the way your swollen lips drop into a soft oh! Glassy eyes snapping down to catch the way he fucks his fist once, twice. Before spilling all over your swollen folds, painting you such an obscene white over and over and-
âNow now,â you can only keen in response as your husband hums lowly. Fist sliding languidly up and down his angry, red cock. âGuess we hafta hah- do it all over again, my love.âÂ
Yeah, definitely worth it with the way he had you all breathless and needy, your slutty lilâ pussy just begging to go over the edge - only to tease you at the very last second. God, itâs been like this for so long now.Â
âSo mean,â you give Nanami a little pout - one that has his still-painfully hard cock twitching so sensitively in his hand. Big, fat tears welling up in your eyes as you continue, âYouâre being so ngh- mean, Ken.â
Oh, damn that little nickname - the exact same one youâd scream when youâre close. Damn the way you cock your head just right, batting your lashes so deceivingly innocently up at him.
Damn the way he snakes his hand down to the sinful little pool of cum spreading all over your lower stomach. Letting it trickle onto his fingertips - immediately shoving them between your lips to shut up those pretty lilâ moans.Â
âMean?â he manages to chuckle. Tips of his fingers pressing right at the back of your tongue. Slapping his swollen cock on your stomach, âIs this what you ah- wanted? Are ya happy now, my love?âÂ
The sight of you all teary and gagging around his fingers was almost as addictive as the sight of you covered in his cum. Almost.Â
He sweeps his eyes all over where you were splayed out so prettily for him. Your glossy lips, the streaks of cum on your stomach, your chin, everywhere and anywhere - except where you wanted the most.Â
It had started with an accident, really, when heâd pulled out a bit too early tonight. And fuck if Nanami didnât think that sight of you all dripping and covereed with him was like the gates of heaven spread wide open all for him. A new, dangerous addiction.Â
Which is why heâs pushing his fingers deeper, whispering out a ragged little, âShit, youâre so messy.â Purposefully dragging his thumb across your lower lip to smear the mess everywhere. Your lips, your chin, inside. âSo filthy.â He canât even think about bringing himself to be disgusted. Dipping down the valleys of your chest, down, down down, to where his achingly hard tip was just kissing your quivering entrance now, âSo perfect.âÂ
And without warning, Nanamiâs splitting you apart on his massive cock once more. Jaw falling slack ever-so-slightly at the way youâre taking him up so readily - inch by fucking inch like it hurt to be apart.
âF-fuck,â you moan, the words broken as he starts moving inside - back to picking up that unforgiving pace from earlier, like he never stopped. âHngh- sâtoo good- too full, Kento-â
âAwww, what happened to âKenâ?â Nanami cuts you off uncharacteristically. Hips slowing down to lazy, mindless little movements that have you gasping in protests. âWas gonna cum on your pretty face this time hah- s-seems you donât want it, hm?â Â
And ah, let it be known that Nanami Kento would burn down the world for his wife.Â
But what fun it was to tease you - to have your mouth dropping in disbelief, eyes widening in your delirious state. Babbling out a broken, âNo no no, Ken- hngh- wanâ you to cum inside.â Back arching off the bed, grappling pathetically for more more more- âTo paint me white inside- Please?â
Oh, did you know how to push his buttons just right. Because how could Nanami deny you begging so prettily like that?
Because the sentence is barely out of your mouth before neat nails are digging into your hips as Nanami pulls your hips closer, milking his cock on your snug cunt - so hard he knew it would leave marks. His heavy balls on your ass, your ankles on his shoulders, nails dragging down his bulging biceps as you moan his name.Â
Whispering, breath hot against your ear, âYouâre right.â Voice so strained and dark that you almost donât recognize it as your husbands. âSo, so right.â
Nanamiâs index finger coming down to draw an invisible line right where he could feel his cock making a mess of you inside.Â
âAh! Ken, W-what-â
âYouâre so right.â heâs breathing against your mouth, like a little prayer. Tasting the sweet candy of your lips and himself and you- âThe next spot-â Pressing his finger down right on that spot, hard. Like he wanted to feel himself more than anything. âWill be here.â
⥠GETO SUGURU - Pretty when you cry
âS-Sugu, are you okay?â youâre looking over your shoulder to ask.Â
Nothing. Absolutely nothing - except for Getoâs heavy breathing, and the lewd little squelches from down below, his swollen cock just barely sinking into your heavenly cunt. And you know it doesnât bode well.
Youâd be almost worried if it wasnât for the way his eyes were half-lidded, pupils blown and just locked on that single, stray tear rolling down your cheek. Such a dark little glint in his gaze that had you wondering whether you should be concerned for him or yourself.Â
Yet you manage to choke out a little, âSuguru?â
Ah that snaps him out of his little reverie, suddenly too-aware of your plushy walls sucking the soul out of his hot, angry head.Â
With work, itâs been a while since Geto got to fuck your snug cunt - and you needed to breathe, maybe spread your legs more. Relax, because it was so fucking tight and Geto wasnât even halfway. The stretch way too sinful. Too much. Your lips wobbling at how massive his cock was, and oh- was that another tear going down your pretty face?
You donât even get to confirm because several things happen at once - immediately, heâs pushing his aching dick in one, harsh thrust. Head dipping down to pool the tears streaming on his hot tongue, groaning at the taste.
âO-oh.â you manage to grit out, feeling like Geto was pushing into your fucking lungs. âSâtoo big. Sugu, ah!â
âShhhh, gorgeous.â heâs dragging his lips down your neck, fingers dancing down your body to roll your ravaged clit between them. âSâalrigh- ngh-â And you didnât know whether he was reassuring himself more than you. âYou got it. Y-youâll take it- you always do, right?â
And he was right - but youâd forgotten how unforgiving Getoâs cock was. How unforgiving he was as he pries away your fingers gripping onto the headrest - trying pathetically to pull away from the pressure down below.Â
Hah, he thinks, intertwining them so mockingly with his own, as if heâd let such a pretty lilâ thing like you escape.Â
Romantic - the way this was supposed to be.Â
Yet, now, Geto was fucking you like anything but.Â
âYouâre not trying to- fuck- run away,â heâs purring in your ear, rubbing his thumb over your swollen clit once. Twice. As if trying to will the answer out of you, âRight?â Not even waiting for your answer before reeling his hips back, all the way till his fat tip was just kissing your sloppy entrance. âAfter we hngh- havenât done this in so-â Slamming his hips down. Harsh. â-long?â
And shit- he was acting like it, too. So depraved and filthy the way he was drinking up your cute lilâ moans, tasting your tears on his lips while he couldnât decide between bruising your poor cervix and hitting that one spot. âT-too fuckinâ long, gorgeous.â
The only answer he gets is your sweet, simpering whine of âSugu- Sugu Sugu- oh my god.â Back bowing off the bed because itâs gotten so much. âC-can feel you so deep inside.â
Really, how could Geto even think about stopping himself from kissing down your arched back? Looping two strong arms around your waist to pull you impossibly deeper down his cock.Â
âAh! Oh my god- Suguru!â you keen as he falls back on his knees with you in tow, your back against his muscled front. Spreading your legs to fuck up so mindlessly into you. Jagged, long thrusts, bouncing you like a toy on his aching cock. Rough. âSo much- so- ngh-â
Ah, your pretty little cries are just music to his ears. Fuck, he forgot how pretty you looked when you were all breathless and crying on his cock.
âSuch a cute lilâ actress.â he coos, voice going up each time his heavy balls smack your ass. Fingers drawing such tight little circles on your throbbing clit. âLove these hah- pretty tears.â
âS-So mean, Sugu-â youâre choking as his thrusts get purposeful - calculated. Hitting that one magical spot heâll never forget no matter what. Over and over and over while all you can do is cry out teary moans of his name.
Thigh quivering at the sheer stimulation, âYeah- yeah, jusâ like that.â And oh Geto wishes he could taste down there, too. But instead settles for doing that later - getting those sweet, overstimulated tears out of you. âMy gorgeous girl, cryinâ on my cock. Ngh- gonna cum fâme?â Pressing a chaste kiss to the side of your forehead - the complete opposite of his hips. âGonna c-cry while youâre mm- cumming all over my cock?â
And as if he really really wanted to see it - Getoâs only getting sloppier.Â
So embarrassing with the way he was whispering out sweet little degradations in your ear, guiding you closer and closer.Â
So embarrassing with the way he eagerly watched all your minute reactions.
So embarrassing with how you cum exactly the way he wanted you to - teary and breathless. A quick scream of Getoâs name before youâre seeing stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears.Â
Cunt clamping down so deliciously on his cock. So dizzying that you barely even register the hot tongue lapping at the fresh wave of tears.
âAh, as perfect as I hah- imagined.â Geto grits out, sounding every bit absolutely wrecked. âNow I jusâ n-need to know if youâll cry as much when mâfilling you up.â
⥠CHOSO KAMO - âJust the tip.â
âHngh- f-fuck, baby.â he whines into your open mouth, strong hands pulling your trembling hips impossibly closer to his. âJ-jusâ a bit deeper- only a bit deeper, I promise.â
Ah, if only you werenât split apart so deliriously on Chosoâs cock you mightâve been able to actually form a coherent sentence to- what? Snap at him? Beg him for more?
You donât even know at this point, because itâs been like this for so long now, and Choso promised it would be just his weeping tip. He promised it would be quick and he just âwanted to feel his girlâs pretty pussy.â Over and over again as he pushed your legs all the way until they were pressed against your tits, heels pressing into the mattress as he slides his massive cock even deeper-
âCho!â you yelp, feeling the thump! thump! thump! of those prominent veins down the side rub against all the right spots. âYou said-â
âI know I know, mâsorry.â he gasps. Brows scrunching as he nevertheless bullies his cock deeper inside your gummy walls. Chosoâs cock too big, the stretch too sinful. Dropping his head to kiss your bruised lips, âMâsorry, jusâ a bit more. Jusâ a bit- hah- a bit deeper-â
And oh, he shouldnât have done that.Â
Shouldnât have let himself that last bit of freedom, because he sinks only a bit more into your heavenly cunt - so dripping wet and milking the soul out of him - that Choso canât help but think he wants more.Â
âBabyâŠâ Choso purrs hotly against your ear, hips thrusting in slow, shallow little grinds - and you already know too well what heâs about to beg for.
âCho.â you groan, warningly. âYou said j-jusâ the ngh- tip.â
âAwww.â he groans. So fucking pretty with his long hair undone, some strands sticking to his flushed skin. Eyes hazy and miles away as he looks at you through those long, dark lashes. âJusâ a bit ngh- more? Promise Iâll pull out.â As if to support his case, one hand gently tilts your head up to press chaste pecks at the corner of your lips. The other starting to toy with your ravaged clit, âPlease?â
And how could you say no to that?Â
Especially not when Choso digs his knees deeper into the sheets, rock-hard cock dragging so agonizingly against your walls as he reels his hips back, back, back-
Splitting you apart all in one, harsh thrust.Â
Itâs all you can do to whine out a pathetic, âO-oh fuck- fuck! Sâtoo deep.â The stretch too sinful, his cock too massive. Tears springing to your eyes as he immediately starts fucking you in quick, ragged movements - not even easing you into it like he usually would.Â
âMâsorry, baby.â Choso sounds so fucking wrecked, voice as rough as his hips now. âMâsorry mâsorry. Promise I wonât cum inside. Jusâ a bit more- some- some more-â
And for all the remaining sanity you had left, you didnât know how promises of âjust the tipâ turned into empty wishes that neither of you had the patience - nor the sanity - to fulfill right now.Â
âPlease.â you arch your hips off the bed - and nothing more has to be said, because Choso reads that lust-drunk little plea in your eyes. âCh-Cho-â
âA bit more.â he lets out a humorless little laugh. Reaching above to lace his fingers on top of your head, pushing you down, down, down impossibly deeper onto his painfully hard cock in a pathetic little cadence to match his. âJusâ a bit- more.â
It was driving him insane.Â
And for all his apologies, Choso isnât one bit shy when rocking his hips harder into yours. So bruising with the way he leaves marks on your waist, your tits, probably even your poor cervix. Whispering out mindless little promises of pulling out and nonsense about going âjusâ a bit deeperâ.
âF-fuck, wanâ you to cum, baby.â The bed is creaking in protest as Choso picks up the pace so sloppily. Hips stuttering and uneven with how fucking good it felt - but hitting the right spots every time. His hands snaking down to roll your sensitive clit between his fingers again. âCum fâme. Please?â
And it seems that Choso had a penchant for getting what he wanted.Â
Because no sooner do the words leave his rosy lips, youâre seeing stars behind your eyes. Blood roaring in your ears, mixing with Chosoâs broken little praises as he fucks you through peak after peak of your high.Â
Over and over and-
âSorry-â your eyes snap open at that familiar little phrase falling from his lips. One that you knew didnât bode well for you or your poor cunt. âSorry sorry sorry-â Thrusting, once. Harsh. Twitching so wildly inside you that just one more squeeze and heâd be- âC-can I ngh- cum inside, baby?âÂ
⥠RYOMEN SUKUNA - A lilâ show
It only takes that first, broken little moan escaping your swollen lips and you already know you wonât make it out intact - nor will Sukunaâs sanity, apparently.Â
Because no sooner has that sinful noise left you, Sukunaâs eyes glaze over, jaw dropping so uncharacteristically into a soft oh! Aching dick twitching wildly inside you, hips stuttering against yours as he breathes out, âWhat was that?â
He doesnât have the patience to wait for your response - instead, squeezing his swollen cock deeper, fucking all the air - and the words - out of you.Â
Which, unfortunately for you, wasnât exactly the reaction he was hoping for.Â
âAww, câmon.â the words are groaned into the crook of your neck, sending jolts of electricity all the way down to your dripping cunt. âGive me more ngh- of those-â Large hands tightening on your hips, shifting you around on where you were sat so prettily on Sukunaâs lap. â-pretty moans, brat.â
So thatâs what he wanted.
And this was supposed to be something slow. Something lazy, and languid to get the king of curses off before that droning meeting today with his underlings - to take the edge off so that he probably wonât end up killing them all off.
Something it was not supposed to be was Sukuna spreading your legs so shamefully, splitting you apart deeper and deeper on his cock. Trying to find the angle thatâs just right to rip those cute lilâ moans out of you.
âCâmonnnn.â he gives short, sloppy little thrusts up into your heavenly cunt. âWhere is-â
Then suddenly youâre wrapping your arms tighter around Sukunaâs neck, âNgh! Oh fuck-â Teeth digging into his muscled shoulder, hard - hard enough that it mightâve drawn blood if this wasnât the king of curses himself.Â
âFound it.â And itâs all thatâs said before heâs reaching down to spread your puffy folds further, eyes flicking between your wobbling lips and the way your tight pussy was sucking him up so good. Watching the way his massive cock was disappearing in and out in and out in and- âWhat? Not gonna hah- scream my name anymore?â
âB-because, Kuna-â you gasp, face burning at the way your thighs tremble with the effort to pathetically to meet his unforgiving pace. âThey- theyâre close.â
Humming in amusement, âWho?â
âThem!â youâre keening - and both of you know youâre talking about those footsteps outside, the thought of Sukunaâs meeting weighing much more on your mind than his. So youâre limply grazing your lips against his, trying to muffle those whimpers falling from your lips. âTheyâre g-gonna ngh- hear?â
âSo?â
You donât know what youâre reeling more from - Sukunaâs response or the way heâs increasing his pace relentlessly. Trying to pull those sweet sweet moans from you, no care or concern for the ever-closing footsteps outside.Â
âI donât care.â he groans, back arching off the sticky seat of his throne to fuck up into your sloppy hole deeper. âYouâre ngh- above them, yâknow.â Bouncing you like such a slut on his cock, âSo what if they h-hear?â
And God you donât know whoâs more fucked-out right now - Sukuna, who was speaking mindless little nonsense into your ear, or you. Whiney and a mess, tugging on his soft locks - a warning.
One that the man himself blatantly ignores, instead having one hand reach down to roll your throbbing clit between his fingers.Â
âHngh- fuck!â
The moan escapes you before you can bite down on Sukunaâs neck, right above his racing pulse to muffle it.Â
âHeh,â shivers run down your spine as Sukunaâs chest rumbles with a laugh. Pulling your lolling head away to crash his lips against yours. Panting into your open mouth, âSneaky. But theyâre only getting closer and-â Rocking his hips harder. Bruising. â-mâonly getting more impatient.â
And then heâs fucking up into you with reckless abandon. Smirk spreading at that little ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth each time he hits that one spot.Â
Youâre sure that if whatever unfortunate soul was outside couldnât hear your delirious moans then they could definitely hear the lewd slap of skin on skin. Fast, so unforgivingly loud. His fingers just a blur on your clit. Just taunting those little moans out of you.
Youâre gasping at the sheer stimulation, âY-youâre so-â
âSo what?â Sukuna spits into your mouth, âDonât start ngh- sentences ya canât finish, brat. Though-â His sharp eyes flicker towards the door, much more aware than whatever hazy mess was left of your senses. âI donâ think youâll be able f-finish any of them soon enough.â
Barely even giving you the chance to register his words, youâre tilting your head in confusion up at him and-
Knock! Knock! Knock!
Oh, shit.Â
âCome in.â
⥠GOJO SATORU - Blue blue blue!
Itâs times like this - your blue lingerie almost in tatters, Gojo pushing you into such a tight mating press, filling up your poor pussy over and over - that you wonder when bones will start breaking.
Well, not that your boyfriend would mind either - he wouldnât mind having to use a bit of reverse cursed technique on what was supposed to be a lazy little cockwarming session. Instead, too focused on how your cunt was sucking him up so good. His cum inside you so warm, the stretch so sinful, your lingerie too blue-
âHeh, what? C-canât ngh- speak, sweetheart?â Gojo lets out a humorless little laugh. Fingers deftly hooking under your bra strap to give a sharp little snap! âYouâre the one that a-asked for this, after ngh- all.â
âB-But, Toru-â you gasp, and it only has Gojo ramming his cock into you deeper. Awe-struck at how you were already so bloated with his cum, but still taking him so well. âWasnât on p-purpose-â
âThis wasnât on purpose?â And you know what heâs talking about - that barely-there fabric - the exact shade of his eyes. Only one glance at it had Gojo feeling like something snapped - possibly his restraint, maybe his sanity. Definitely you by the end of this. âThis?âÂ
And you canât even act coy - you donât get the chance to.Â
Because Gojoâs immediately got his hands everywhere. On your swollen breasts, your hips, the hem of your panties that he just barely had the patience to slide aside before stuffing you full.Â
âY-yes?â you ask, deliciously. Cunt clenching so sinfully around his throbbing cock in- fear? Anticipation? As he looked down so starved at you.Â
âF-fuck. Ya shouldnât have done this.â Gojoâs dragging his lips down your neck, soft. The exact opposite of how bruising his hips were of yours. âOh, ya shouldnât have done this-â Lewd curiosity getting the best of him as he dips his hand lower, pressing down just slightly on your lower stomach. âBecause now,â Those blue eyes widening at the way his cum gushes down your legs, down his legs. â-mânot gonna let you go until I fuckinâ ruin these.â
And if you were in any better state of mind you couldâve almost laughed - because Gojo was acting like the soaked, flimsy fabric hanging around your body wasnât already far, far past any salvation.Â
No, he was fucking you like he was going to ruin them all over again. Tightening your legs thrown over his shoulders, folding you in half like some ragdoll as he bends down, down, down-
RIP!
Youâre gasping at the sharp tear of fabric, one that you barely hear over the fucking obscene squelches from below. âT-Toru-â you squeal, ankles locking in warning. âThese ngh- w-were expensive.â
âSo?â And for all the world, Gojo has the audacity to sound so genuinely confused. Whispering a soft oh! as he angles his head just right to catch that sinful little tear in your panties. âWhoopsies.â
But, really, what your unregretful boyfriend was actually focusing on was how fucking illegal it should be for you to look this heavenly - legs shaky and limp, his seed forming a lewd little pool. Marked like you were fucking thrown to wolves, but, no, it was actually Gojo Satoru and he couldnât fucking get enough-
âFive.â
The word comes out abruptly, strangled like Gojo himself was as bewildered as you as he suddenly blurts it out.Â
And at your - fucking adorable - look of confusion, heâs kissing away the pout at your lips, murmuring hoarsely, âMâgonna buy you five more of these.â
Thatâs all thatâs said before heâs only rocking his hips harder, feeling more of a fucking monster than he did when he was on the battle field. Wondering whether heâd have to buy a new fucking bed too with the way it was creaking under the pure power.Â
And, well, it made some tiny, sadistic little part of Gojo delight to see the effect it had on you. Sweet moans of his name leaving your lips each time he draws rapid circles on your pretty clit. Hips fucking back down to meet his, so sloppy and needy - exactly the way he wanted you.Â
âSh-shit, Toru-â youâre bucking wildly underneath him, âMâclose- so fucking close.â
He knew - of course he did. If the way your gummy walls were trying to suck the fucking soul out of him was anything to go by. Clit pulsing in a maddening little thump! thump! thump! that set Gojoâs animalistic rhythm.Â
âCum fâme.â he pants against your open mouth. Fingers hurrying on your clit because he wanted - needed - this so badly. âCum fâme cum fâme, wanâ feel you squeezing my cock, sweetheart.â Needed to see if your tight pussy could take one more - to see if sheâd overflow onto your poor panties again. âCum fâme.â
âNgh- fuck- Toru!â
And then you are - you feel it before you realize it.Â
Just that white-hot electricity flowing through your veins, and your nails digging into Gojoâs milky skin. Leaving such angry red marks as you chase your high over and over and-
And Gojo wasnât any better. Just barely having the sense to pull out as his balls squeezed so painfully and heâs painting your quivering pussy white. Thick rope after rope that the smug bastard purposefully smears all over your panties.Â
So fucking filthy.
âTen.â heâs groaning, and you already know what he means. âMâgonna have to buy you ten more after this.â
A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo x reader#geto x reader#sukuna x reader#nanami x reader#gojo smut#geto smut#sukuna smut#nanami smut#tonywrites#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#choso x reader#choso smut#toji x reader#toji smut#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#gojo x reader smut#toji x reader smut#satoru gojo x reader#toji fushiguro smut#nanami x reader smut#choso x reader smut#geto x reader smut
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WHAT do you MEAN you can believe most tumblr users haven't had sex or even kissed someone? MOST? Look there are a lot of ace people on this site, I love it for that. There are a higher proportion of ace ppl on here than in the general population 100% but the majority of this site is not ace. There are definitely people here that are in to sex but don't go out enough. But MOST? Really? Tell me we're moving in different circles without saying we're moving in different circles. A significant number of the ppl I follow on here have kids.
#look in the nicest way possible#some of you need to put yourself out there a bit#if there is a thing you might be interested in that you're not getting. meeting some new people is the way to find it#i feel like there are people on here that are proud of never going out. never having tried alcohol or interesting food or fucking a stranger#you don't HAVE to be in to any of those things.#if you aren't interested in sex don't have it. if you don't like the taste of alcohol don't drink it#but you've got to put yourself out there in some ways. there's no way that this is a none of the above situation for so many of you#i think it's more a: not trying new things situation#and that kinda is a problem. not for anyone else. it's a problem for you. if you don't try new things. your life will shrink#nobody deserves that#it's scary at first. it can be fucking terrifying. but that kind of discomfort occasionally is good for you.the more you do the easier it is#if you are ace and allergic to alcohol and allergic to loads of foods then yeah don't do those things. but do other things instead#you're allowed to go to bars and not drink. you meet all kinds of people when you do. it's great.#you can go to your local library and chat to people there. join a writing club or a book club or something#do an adult learning course. join a club for a craft. take up a sport. go swimming and chat to the other swimmers#join a local environmental group. go to meetings in the town hall. chat to people on the bus. join a political party#there are so many options but you have to do something! you'll feel so much better for it#you are alive. act like it!
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i've always known - satoru gojo
[ satoru gojo - f!reader ]
⧠summary: you'd known each other since childhood, growing as close as two people could grow. there was not anything you didn't do together. but life doesn't always cooperate, creating hurdles even for the most tightknit relations ⧠cw: [MDNI] childhood best friends, afab!reader, college au, fluff!!, ofc some angst sprinkled in here, mentions of underage drinking, swearing, arguing, slightly ooc satoru maybe you be the judge, jealousy, poorly written eventual smut (be patient), fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, pet names, no use or y/n ⧠word count: 17.0k (yikes sorry)
ââËïœĄâ
You were six years old when you met him for the first time.
âBe nice and say hi, sweetie,â your mom spoke softly, only making you squeeze her hand harder and hide behind her.
âHi,â you said more quiet than a whisper, if that was even possible, looking at the two strangers that had made themselves known.
But it wasnât the unknown woman that had you so nervous, she seemed kind enough. It was the little boy next to her, a mop of crystal white hair hanging above his piercing blue eyes that were staring directly at you. With his hands stuffed into the pocket of his hoodie, he flashed you a toothless grin.
âHello, Iâm Satoru,â his tone chipper, almost like the line was rehearsed. You only stared at him with eyes big as globes before turning towards your mom again.
âMooom,â you nagged, pulling at her sleeve. âCan we go back inside?â
âIn a minute,â she reassured you before turning towards the strangers. âIâm sorry, the moving has been a lot for her,â she chuckled nervously, but the unknown lady only smiled at her.
âOh, donât worry about it,â she laughed kindly before turning to you. âIâm sure weâll get to know each other with time.â She shot you a friendly wink, but you only shrunk further being your momâs leg. Instinctively, she began to rub comforting circles on your back.
âWe have no doubt,â she answered for you.
Still feeling Satoruâs eyes on you, you turned to him again. Instantly your eyebrows narrowed in annoyance, not understanding why he was still staring at you, like you were some kind of weirdo.
âI really came by to invite your family over for dinner tomorrow. Wish you welcome to the neighbourhood.â Your mother instantly beamed at the request.
âThatâs so nice. Weâd love too, right honey?â Shifting the focus to you again. You only shrugged, not daring to look away from the strange boy.
âGreat. Just drop by anytime after five and weâll be home.â The genuine smile only amplified the womanâs already gorgeous face.
Your mom broke the intense staring competition you had with Satoru with a slight shake of the hand. âWhy donât you tell them your name?â
Looking between the two strangers standing on your porch, you shyly mumbled your name, earning you another smile from the boy. What was his deal?
ââËïœĄâ
âWhy donât you show her your room, Satoru?â The man you assumed to be his dad had said nearly the second your family had stepped into their home.
Youâd given your parents a pleading look, begging them to come to your rescue seeing as you were already attending the dinner against your will. With stern glares, you knew you had no choice but to follow Satoru.
With a safe distance behind him, you reluctantly followed him up the stairs, which lead to a door at the end of the long hallway. He was clearly a well mannered kid, surprising you as he actually held the door open for you to enter first.
Small steps lead you into his bedroom and your eyes instantly grew big in awe at the sight of the huge bedroom. It was probably twice the size of yours, filled with all the toys you could imagine. Strengthening your envy was the queen sized bed in the corner of his room, because you had always been told that big beds like that were for grown ups only.
But what captured your full attention was the bookshelves in the opposite side of the room filled with manga from the floor to the ceiling. Shuffling over to them, you let your eyes travel over the familiar titles, spotting all your favourite stories.
âAre all of these yours?â You asked, turning to see him already looking at you with his hands in his pockets. He simply nodded, a proud smile plastered on his face to reveal deep dimples on each side of his face.
Unfair, you thought to yourself. What you would give to have stacked shelves like that, so youâd be able to pick up a new manga the second youâd finished another one.
âHow old are you?â The random question made you turn to look at him again, his pride shifted into curiosity with his head tilted.
âSix.â He instantly scrunched his nose, seriously unhappy with your answer.
âHmm,â he scoffed, looking down at his feet. His reaction couldnât help but offend you, crossing your arms over your chest and sticking your bottom lip out in a dramatic pout. ââS not fair,â he mumbled as he kicked his feet.
âWhat isnât fair?â You whined, drawing his eyes back to you.
âWell, Iâm eight,â he complained, but that alone didnât explain his tone. âSo why are you taller than me?â Blinking at him in surprise, a small giggle began to take over your grumpiness. âItâs not funny!â
If your parents had seen you giggle in response to someone clearly upset, you would have earned yourself a strict scowl and a lesson when you got home. Lucky for you, they were downstairs mingling with their new neighbours, so the childish giggle came bursting out of you, causing your to slap both your hands over your mouth to contain yourself.
He knew you were teasing him, but he found himself enjoying the sound of your laugh a little too much to stay upset, his shoulders sinking and eyebrows raising in delight. A subtle blush dusted over his cheeks when he began to think he might just be a little smitten by you already.
Nonetheless, it was the start of your friendship. Throughout the dinner, the two of you held a never ending conversation, which surprised your parents considering how hostile youâd been to even the idea of getting to know the young boy next door.
Both of you put up a fight when it was time for you to leave once the clock had passed nine on a school night. You eventually had to settle for seeing each other again tomorrow. Still so excited to have a new friend, you couldnât help but tell your parents everything you and Satoru had talked about.
âAnd he even said I could borrow his mangas if I wanted to!â
âThatâs great, honey, but you really have to go to bed now!â Your mom chuckled as she followed you into the bedroom and tucked you in. âWhy donât you tell me the rest tomorrow, hm?â You nodded eagerly, before she placed a sweet kiss on your cheek and wishing you good night before leaving your bedroom with the door slightly ajar.
You wanted to drift into sleep, but you couldnât find it in your body to rest. So like so many other nights, you walked over to your shelves to find something to read. You didnât manage to get that far, when something outside your window caught your eye. Curiously making your way over, you climbed up on the stool, only to be staring right at Satoru standing in his own window directly across from yours.
It didnât take long for him to spot you, instantly waving at you with his entire arm. With the same toothless grin youâd been greeted with the previous day, you waved back at him immediately before climbing back into bed more than satisfied.
ââËïœĄâ
You were ten years old the first time he got grounded because of you.
Over the years, youâd just grown closer and closer for each time you hung out, which was pretty much every day. It was just a given that you would see each other at one point or another throughout the day. And if, for some odd reason, you hadnât gotten the chance to meet up, you would catch up in the evening from your windows.
There was not a doubt that you two had become best friends. His house felt like a second home, nearly spending more time there than your own home.
Sadly, Satoruâs classmates didnât think it was cool for him to hang out with someone who was ten. Unlike them, you were a child⊠and a girl, which meant you brought cooties
âWaiting for your boyfriend,â a taunting voice cooed as it gradually came closer, capturing your attention to meet three boys you recognised from Satoruâs class.
âNot my boyfriend,â you mumbled to yourself, not wanting to give them the attention they so desperately wanted. Turning away from them, you tried to ignore their rapid approach. But before you knew it, they had you surrounded.
âYou know, he doesnât really like hanging out with you.â Glaring daggers at the boy standing right in front of you, you chewed the inside of your cheek in an attempt not to let him get to you. âHeâs got better things to do than hang out with stupid girls.â
You tried to cling onto the advice your mother had told you time and time again; if you donât have anything nice to say, donât say anything at all. But in this moment, that seemed like the worst possible advice. Why should you just stand there and take it when they were throwing all these mean words at you?
âYouâre just upset you canât get anyone to talk to you!â Your voice was venomous, but it didnât seem to have any affect on him as they only snickered in response.
âThink youâre funny?â
âJust leave me alone!â You fired back, challenging his patronising look at you. For a few seconds, he held your stare before he launched forward and yanked your manga right out of your tiny hands. âHey! Give it back!â Despite being as tall as the dumb boy, he managed to keep it just out of your reach, no matter how far you tried to stretch for it.
âIâm just having a look,â he laughed as he began to recklessly flip through the pages. From each side of you, you could hear both of his friends laugh to egg him on.
Panting and whining, you tried to reach for your book, but froze in place when you heard the sound of paper ripping. Staring at the manga in his hands, you saw how he had started to tear crumbled pages from the spine. With fake sincerity, he squeaked a small âopsâ and continued to laugh. Unable to peer your eyes away from your favourite manga in pieces, the tears began to well up in the corner of your eyes. âAwe, are you crying?â
The tears didnât have time to fall, when a familiar figure came zooming in front of you and crashing into your bully, instantly knocking him to the ground, causing him to scrape his knee. While he kept squirming on the ground, Satoru instantly snatched the book from his hands.
âI told you to leave her alone,â Satoru growled at the boy as he stumbled back on his feet, blood steaming through his torn jeans. His brows were narrowed in pure anger, telling you he was about to retaliate towards your friend, but Satoru sported a stern posture and a look that one would be stupid to defy.
Soon enough, it seemed like the pain set in after a few seconds, and the anger in his eyes turned glossy, trying to hide the fact that his bottom lip was quivering and his nostrils were flaring like he was about to cry.
Satoru shot an ugly glare at the two other boys, who didnât seem sure what to do with themselves. âYou want to taste the gravel as well?â Satoru threatened, the three boys sharing a worrying look. It didnât take long before they decided to scatter with their tail between their legs. The boy whoâd ruined your book, trying to conceal a limp but failing terribly.
The second they had their backs turned to you, Satoru turned his full attention to you with a softened expression, genuinely worried. âYou okay?â He hurried to ask, scanning you from top to toe to see if there were any visible injuries. However it was only your pride, and your manga, that was wounded.
Looking down at his hands, the tears came back right away at the scene of the mangled book.
âIâm fine,â you said under your breath, eyes still glued to the manga. Struggling to find the right words to comfort you, his eyes jumped between your glistening eyes and the torn book in his hands.
âI have this one at home! You can have mine, I never liked it anyway,â he rambled as he began to wave the book around, growing more uncomfortable as he saw the small tears roll down your red and puffy cheeks. âAnd donât worry about them! Theyâre just stupid! And jealous. And, and-â his frantic words stopped in his throat, forming into a nervous lump when you flicked your eyes up to meet his.
Despite the redness in them and the sniffling of your nose, he couldnât help but think you looked pretty. Which only made him feel even worse, that someone could be so cruel to you.
You shrugged your shoulders slightly, wiping away the snot and tears from your face. âThank you for stopping them.â In defeat, you grabbed the manga out of his hands and stuffed it into your backpack, not caring if you ruined it any further.
âCâmon, letâs go home.â He placed a friendly hand on your shoulder, and you began to walk home like usual.
The walk home was mostly quiet, Satoru not daring to say anything, not knowing what to say. He wanted to help, make you feel better, but all the things that popped into his head just felt like it wouldn't be enough. So when you reached your house, you simply waved him goodbye before disappearing.
Once he entered his own home, his parents were on his neck instantly. They were furious, because theyâd received an angry phone call from a distraught parent explaining how Satoru had purposely attacked their son.
Satoru had tried to explain the situation and defend himself, saying he couldnât just let them pick on you like that. Somehow, the heroic gesture didnât seem to outweigh when the kid had walked home with a bloody knee, bawling his eyes out.
âYou never resort to violence, Satoru,â his father had yelled at him, before they told him he was grounded for a week. Satoru was speechless. He had never been grounded before, and he didnât understand why he was being punished when he firmly believed he had done the right thing.
Unable to defend himself further, he stomped to his room and started his homework like he had been told to do. He didnât get much work done though, as he mostly moped the entire evening, neurotically tapping his pen against the textbook.
You, much like Satoru, spent the entire evening in your bedroom. For the first two hours, you just laid in your bed, sulking. Eventually you wanted to talk to someone â not just someone, Satoru. You made your way to the windowsill, waiting for him to show. And you waited. And waited. And waited some more.
It wasnât until you were about to head to bed you saw his silhouette cracking open the window slowly. Jumping up, you opened your window immediately. âIâve been waiting all afternoon!â
âShhh, you gotta keep it down,â he said softly, barely able to hear him. âIâm not allowed to talk to you right now.â
You raised an eyebrow in confusion. âWhat? Why?â Leaning forward in the window frame, resting your head on your forearms.
âIâm grounded,â he shrugged, checking over his shoulder every now and then to make sure no one came to check in on him.
âFor what?â
âBecause I shoved him. He ran like a crybaby, making it seem worse than it was.â He rolled his eyes dramatically, so incredibly frustrated by the outcome.
âReally? I can explain what happened to your parents-â he waved his hands out the window to stop you.
âI tried. They were quite upset. But itâs no big deal. Itâs just a week.â
âSo, I wonât be able to see you for a week?â You complained, to which he only looked at you with big eyes. It hadnât really hit him that he wouldnât be able to hang out with you while he was grounded, which only made this terrible situation even worse.
Pursing his lips in thought, he opened his mouth again to speak. âGuess weâll just have to be sneaky with window meetings at night,â he laughed, making you laugh along as well.
âI guess so.â
âI gotta go to bed before mom and dad finds me talking to you,â he sighed. âSo, guess Iâll talk to you tomorrow night.â Before he managed to shut his window, you called his name again.
âHey, Satoru?â Looking back at you with big eyes, you swallowed the lump in your throat. âThank you for today. It really meant a lot!â
Looking at your glowing gratitude, he did not regret his actions for a single second. He even knew, should the opportunity arise, he would not hesitate to defend you again. Heâd risk all the punishment in the world if it meant having you looking at him like that again.
âGood night, âToru,â you smiled sweetly, his heart doing a small flip at the sound of his new nickname.
ââËïœĄâ
You were fifteen years old when Satoru finally grew passed you.
And once he passed you, it seemed like he never stopped. It wasnât just you he passed, it was all his peers as well. And as he grew, so did his ego to match it. Of course, this also resulted in him endlessly teasing you.
âImagine you used to be taller than me,â he laughed and placed his hand on top of your head.
âYeah, and youâre the only one who cares,â you sighed, swiftly removing his hand from your head.
This all happened about the time you started high school, something Satoru had looked forward to since he himself first started high school. It finally gave you a chance to hang out during school hours, as youâd mostly been restricted to your classrooms in lower grades. He was also excited to introduce you to the small life he had there, which previously had been separated from you.
There was no doubt that Satoru Gojo, along with his small crew, were insanely popular. They basically ruled the school and they all welcomed you with open arms.
So, by association, you too became popular.
You fitted into his group perfectly, getting along with both Shoko and Suguru pretty much right of the bat. So he shouldnât really have been complaining â except for the unforeseen circumstances that came with other people finally noticing you.
Ever since you were young, you hadnât made a huge number of yourself, remaining somewhat anonymous, happy doing your only thing. Satoru had basically been your only friend. He knew he could never mention it to anyone, but he really enjoyed having you all to himself.
So when he noticed all the lingering looks you received just walking down the hall, some unfamiliar anger began to take shape in him.
Pretty much from your first day, he was bombarded with questions from his classmates. Whoâs your friend? Is she single? Why arenât you dating her? Will you introduce me? It got old real fast, and Satoru only found himself growing more and more frustrated by it, coming up with silly excuses to lead them in the opposite direction.
âYeah, no, sheâs- uhm, sheâs single but her dad promised her a car if she doesnât date âtil sheâs eighteen.â
They all gave him the same weird look. âIf youâre seeing her, just say so.â
âNo! Weâre just friends!â He always rushed to defend himself, which always earned him a roll of their eyes before they shrugged off his weird behaviour. Lucky for him, his reputation saved him from anyone pushing it any further.
Despite his best efforts to keep guys at bay, there were still a few headstrong individuals who didnât care about Satoruâs lame excuses or status, they still tried to pursue you. So to fend them off, he had other ways to make you seem unapproachable; excessive physical touch.
You never thought twice about it, as he had never been a stranger to physical touch. It wasnât unusual for him to throw his arm over your shoulders when walking, or fidget with your fingers when he needed something to stimulate his agitation. Youâd gotten so used to it over the years, that youâd simply grown accustomed to it.
After a while, most of the guys in school seemed to get the message that you were off limits. The hassle of his consistent protection for you combined with his position in the school, it just wasnât worth it â that was ignoring some of the most persistent seniors, but he only found their attempts amusing as you so obviously found them disgusting.
Nonetheless, with time he could deem himself satisfied with the lack of male attention you received.
âSo youâre joining us this weekend right?â Suguru, one of Satoruâs close friends, asked during lunch. You only narrowed your eyebrows at him in confusion. What you didnât notice, was Satoru sitting beside you, furiously trying to stop Suguru from explaining further, glaring at him and waving his hands like a maniac.
âWhatâs this weekend?â
âSatoru didnât tell you about the party?â A taunting smirk danced on his lips as he completely ignored Satoruâs disappointed glare. When you turned to question him, he immediately wiped off his disappointment and flashed you a shy smile.
âParty?â
âYeah, I wasnât really planning on going so,â he shrugged nonchalantly, trying to regain his âcoolâ act.
âThatâs not what you told us yesterday,â Shoko scoffed, a smirk matching Suguruâs plastered on her face.
It was in moments like these, you became incredibly aware of the age difference between the two of you. Sure, it was only two years, which youâd never thought much of â until you started high school. His interests and desires skewed in a more mature direction, which you werenât necessarily ready for. It had become a lot more usual for him to go out with his friends during weekends. Even though he usually returned home early and met you at the window, it still sucked.
Did you want to go to the party? No, not really. But if you were being honest, you were absolutely terrified of Satoru slipping away from you if you werenât able to keep up with him. Besides, you only felt guilt at the thought that he might have changed his mind about going because of you. So what harm could it do to attend, even if it was for just an hour?
âI mean, if you want to go,â you trailed off, wanting so much to seem natural about it all. âI donât wanna stop you.â With a small shrug, you were almost certain to managed to seem casual.
âSo thatâs a yes?â Shoko cheered quietly from the opposite side of the table.
âI guess so,â a small chuckle leaving your lips.
Satoru, on the other hand, wasnât as excited about you joining them as his friends. Nervously bouncing his leg under the table, he began to imagine all the things that could happen. He tried to tell himself the main reason he was so upset about the whole thing was that he was concerned something bad might happen, but in reality, he hated the idea of an arena for random dudes to hang over you all night.
You interrupted his spiralling when you suddenly raised from the table. âI have to run by the library before class,â you sighed before you rushed off, Satoruâs eyes never leaving you until youâd left the cafeteria.
âWhat is your deal?â Shoko laughed, drawing his attention back to the table. âSince when do you turn down a party, even if you leave after an hour?â
âI donât know, just donât think itâll be her scene, thatâs all,â he excused himself, picking at his food, suddenly not having an appetite anymore.
âI know you two, like, grew up together or whatever, and you have this strange need to protect her, but sheâs able to take care of herself. Youâve seen how she talks to Fushiguro,â she laughed again.
âItâs not that,â he sighed, avoiding making eye contact with his friends.
âYou remember what it was like to be a freshman. Things like these are exciting,â Suguru shot in. Satoru simply shrugged at his comment. âLook, weâll all keep an eye on her. And you donât drink anyways, so youâll be more than sober enough to make sure sheâs okay.â
âYeah, whatever,â Satoru mumbled and stood up from his seat, still not looking at them. âIâll see you guys later.â
And before you knew it, the weekend came rolling in and you found yourself clutching onto Satoruâs arm for dear life, scared youâd lose him in the crowd.
âWe can leave if you want to,â he leaned down to say nearly the second youâd entered the house.
âNo, no. Itâs fine. Letâs just⊠find Shoko and Suguru.â
It was a lot to take in. People singing and dancing, chugging drink after drink. But your nerves calmed down when you felt Satoruâs strong hands squeeze yours in reassurance. And once you found the others, your body just felt a lot more at ease. It didnât take long for you to actually enjoy yourself, even though you decided to stay away from the alcohol, at least for this time.
What wasnât as enjoyable, was all the female attention Satoru received throughout the evening. It was no secret he was a popular guy, girls lining up to talk to him. But when it came to the girls at school, they mostly just gawked and giggled while he innocently entertained their interests. No, these girls were different. They had clear intentions of taking it further, giving him looks you did not appreciate.
And it bothered you. Oh lord, how it bothered you.
Sitting so close to you, his leg pressed up against yours, you sadly got a front row view of when the girls leaned over and batted their long eyelashes at him, flashing him seductive smiles. You were beyond uncomfortable, trying to look anywhere but scene taking place mere inches from you.
You had no reason to be upset â you were only friends and youâd only ever been friends. Never had the idea of anything else crossed your mind, but you hadnât ever witnessed ladies glue themselves to him like this before.
âHey, you okay?â Satoru interrupted your thoughts, turning over to see he was focused on you, the girl at his side quirking an eyebrow.
ââM fine,â you mumbled, a small smile drawing at your lips. He scanned your face, taking a deep sigh in thought, reading you so clearly.
Out of nowhere, Satoru jumped up from his seat, holding his hand out for you to grab. He wore that award winning smile of his as he opened his mouth, âcome on.â
A smile grew on your face to match his as you eagerly let him pull you off the couch before he playfully threw his arm over your shoulder, leading you out the living room. As you walked, you swore you could hear the girl he talked to earlier scoff.
âHow does ice cream sound to you?â Looking down at you as he shielded out the tight crowd as he lead you out the door.
And as the two of you left the party, there was laughter on your lips and a genuine, special joy in your eyes you seemed to have reserved only for each other. Shoko and Suguru, however, kept a confused eye on you as you exited the house.
âIâll never understand them,â Shoko shook her head, before turning to look at her friend who seemed just as frustrated by you and Satoru as she was. âI mean, theyâre clearly into each other, right?â
Suguru exhaled sharply through his nose in what sounded like it was supposed to be a chuckle. âItâs weird if they arenât.â
âWhen he talked about her before, I just figured they were best friends, like he said. But after meeting her and seeing them together-â
âNo, I agree,â Suguru laughed before she was able to finish her sentence. âIâve never seen âbest friendsâ act like they do.â Shoko nudged his side with her elbow to bring his attention to the girl Satoru had flirted with seconds before he had just stranded her alone on the couch, to see she was pouting, arms crossed over her chest as she stared at the door like she was waiting for him to return.
âNeither has she,â she laughed.
ââËïœĄâ
You were seventeen years old the first time you had your heart broken. Really broken.
Standing outside your boyfriend â no scratch that. Standing outside what was now your ex boyfriendâs front door, you tried to wrap your head around what had just happened, silent tears falling slowly down your face.
It had come out of no where. Yesterday, everything had seemed fine, and now he had suddenly come to the conclusion that you were no longer a good match? It made no sense.
Shaking your head as you took a deep breath, you knew there was only one person who might be able to help you feel a little better. Not to mention, he was probably the only person in the universe right now you could stand to see at all.
The fifteen minute walk from where youâd just had your heart stomped on to your neighbourhood had never felt longer. The silence that filled the dark and abandoned streets was numbing, leaving more room for the self deprecating thoughts to fill your mind. What had you done wrong? What could you have done differently? Was there someone else, someone prettier and funnier than you? Had you not been dedicated enough?
Despite the insane sadness that filled you, you thought if it were to happen, this weekend was probably the best timing, seeing as you wouldnât have been able seek comfort had it happened any other time. Having taken a gap year after high school to earn money, Satoru worked a lot but he had for once gotten a weekend off. And his parents were out of town on some conference, meaning there was no risk of either of them opening the door to greet your grief struck face.
Soon enough you found yourself in front of the familiar front door, a tiny lump forming in your throat as you placed three soft knocks on the door. Before you knew it, Satoru stood right in front of you, his initial reaction of joy melting away once he processed you were upset.
âWhat happened?â His voice was so soft, eyes filled with worry.
âCan I come in?â Your voice was barely louder than a whisper.
âYeah! Of course.â He stepped aside, letting you pass him and enter his home. âYou want anything? Is this like an ice cream kinda situation, because I think we have some cookie dough flavoured in the freezer.â
A broken chuckle slipped out of you, followed by a sob. âNo, thank you, Iâm fine. Just needed to see you,â you sniffled furiously.
âYeah, sure.â Without saying another word, you simply helped yourself up the stairs and to his bedroom. His eyes never left you as you carefully sat down on his bed and he sat down on his desk chair.
Uncomfortable wasnât necessarily the word heâd use for seeing you like this, because it had happened before â just not very often. Youâd always been a quiet charmer, if there was a way to describe it. Out of the two of you, heâd always been the loud and outgoing one, but he definitely saw you as the one who spread the most joy to those around you, a natural sense of cheerfulness radiating from you. Not to mention you were usually the one who stood for the comforting and advice, meaning he was at a loss on what to do.
âWhat happened?â He asked carefully.
âWe broke up.â The words left you so quickly and easily, Satoru had to blink a few times to realise what youâd just said. âOr he broke up with me is probably more correct.â You avoided his gaze, staring directly at your hands tucked between your thighs, the tears leaving dark circles on your jeans.
âI thought things were going well.â
âSo did I.â You wiped your nose with the back of your hand, still sniffling like crazy. âI know you never liked him and didnât get along with him but I really liked him, y'know?â
A pang of guilt came crashing in over Satoru. He hadnât been subtle about his dislike for your boyfriend, and it started before the two of you even became official. He did not miss the opportunity to throw a snide comment about him when you brought him up or constantly quarrel on the few occasions they were in the same room. But he couldnât help it.
Satoru had been so focused on all the guys lining up for you in school, he hadnât even thought of the boys that might find their way to you from elsewhere.
He still remembered the evening you came home from work at the coffeehouse, such a sweet smile on your face and a blush across your nose when heâd met you at the window that night. So giddy over this cute boy whoâd chatted you up and ended up getting your number. Had Satoru known then heâd break your heart this badly, heâd tried harder to shut it down.
âI know I gave him a hard time, but I know you liked him,â he tried to comfort you. âAnd Iâm certain he cared for you too. Itâs hard not to.â
âUrgh, Iâm such an idiot,â you cracked, hiding your face in your hands as the sobs just tumbled out in one steady stream.
âHey,â Satoru said, rushing out of his chair to crouch in front of you. Tenderly he grabbed ahold of your wrists to remove them from your face, carefully trying to dry the tears away. âYouâre not an idiot, okay?â
A small scoff made its way out of you between the sobs. âIâm not even sure he ever cared about me.â
When your name rolled off his tongue with more compassion than youâd ever heard from him before, your eyes snapped up to meet his. âListen to me! I am certain he did. I know what you dedicated to that relationship, and heâd be crazy not to care for you. Not just crazy, but a damn magician as well because itâs genuinely impossible. Believe me, I know.â A small smile grew on his lips when he heard he was able to draw a small chuckle out of you. âYouâre not an idiot. You just have a big heart. And heâs the idiot if he thinks he should let it go.â
He dried what seemed to be one of your last tears with his thumb, before tucking some of your hair behind your ear. His caring gaze traveled your face, taking in every detail he could when the memory from when you were kids popped into his mind. Just like that time, looking at you all red and puffy, he again found himself thinking you were pretty. Not just pretty â beautiful.
âThank you, âToru,â you whispered.
âAny time.â
âCan I stay here tonight?â
âScandalous,â he said dramatically, earning him another shy smile from you. Both of you knew you didnât have to ask, having slept over hundreds of time throughout the years.
âWho knew you were so good at this,â you smiled weakly as he stood up to go get the extra duvet he had in his closet, which was basically just an extra duvet for you.
âPfft, I am Satoru Gojo after all. Is there anything I canât do?â He flashed you a proud grin, instantly rolling your eyes at him.
âYouâre not the greatest cook last time I che-â before you were able to finish your sentence, a pillow came crashing into your face. A lighthearted giggle escaped you, and again Satoru felt his heart flutter a little, so pleased heâd managed to brighten your terrible evening a little bit.
âWatch it, sweetheart, or Iâll have you sleep on the floor.â
âYou would never,â you smiled before grabbing one of Satoruâs t-shirts, like you always did, and headed for the bathroom.
Once you met your reflection in the mirror, your eyes grew as all the signs of tonightâs sorrow was incredibly visible on your face. And to think Satoru had seen you like this, knowing heâd tease you endlessly about it once things settled down and you could laugh about it all.
Your eyes were swollen from all the crying, mascara lines down your puffy cheeks. Still sniffling, you cleaned your face, dabbing a hot cloth in hopes you might redeem some of your dignity as you washed away your heartbreak. Looking in the mirror, a sigh left you knowing that this was probably as good as it was going to get. At least you didnât have makeup smeared all over your face anymore.
Shuffling back into his bedroom, wearing his t-shirt nonetheless, a small lump formed in his throat at the sight of you as he had to fight the urge to let his eyes indulge in your entire figure. What was going on? A million times had you spent the night, and a million times had you gone to bed wearing his shirt, yet tonight felt different. He felt there was something in the air that had shifted, but it went unsaid. So without another word, he simply made his way passed you and to the bathroom. You, on the other hand, paid no attention to his odd behaviour, simply laying down on the bed on the side closest to the wall, your side.
Despite not picking up on his averted gaze, you too sensed there was something in the atmosphere that seemed different than usual, but you couldnât quite put your finger on what. You could easily just blame the breakup, which was definitely lingering in the air, but you knew that wasnât quite it either. There was something in the tension that you felt were directly connected to Satoru.
When you felt his weight press down on the bed next to you, you reactively turned to look at him, surprised to see he was already laying on his side looking right back at you. Staring deeply into your eyes, you felt as if he was trying to tell you something but you couldnât make it out.
Same went for Satoru, as he felt it deep down that there was something he needed to tell you but he had no idea what it was, only that it weighed heavier on him now that the evening had been so emotional and raw.
ââToru?â
âHm?â
âWhat was it about him you didnât like?â Satoru couldnât help but smirk somewhat shamefully.
âItâs not important,â a slight chuckle slipping out of him.
âWith a smile like that, you have to tell me.â Satoru readjusted his head on the pillow, ending up even closer to your face than intended but neither of you pulled away.
âWell, I like it best when I have you to myself.â
âPlease,â you scoffed, tucking one of your hands under your cheek, carefully tilting forward a little. âThatâs ridiculous, even for you.â
âNo, Iâm serious,â he gave you a sweet smile. âWeâve been so close for so long, itâs weird suddenly having to share you.â
You took a deep sigh, your heart skipping a small beat at his answer. âWell, I had to share you first.â
His eyebrows instantly pinched together into a frown, a humorous smirk on his lips. âExcuse me?â
âSo youâve forgotten when you first started high school? It was always âSuguru thisâ and âShoko thatâ.â
âThatâs not the same,â he mocked you.
âHowâs that not the same?â Offended at his disregard for your experience of him suddenly having a bigger social circle, you knew it was all in a playful manner.
âBecause-â was all he managed to get out before you noticed his eyes betraying him as they quickly glanced down at your lips, before looking back into your eyes. Drawing a sharp breath, you swore you might be able to spot a strong blush heat his face, but it was too dark to tell for sure.
He exhaled a shaky breath, which you felt brush against your face making you realise just how close you were to each other.
All the hairs on your body stood up when you felt his light touch brush against your arm that was resting between you. Was this weird? You didnât know. It wasnât like it was the first time heâd touched you like this, so what was making tonight so different?
One slight movement and your noses would grace against each other. He could do it, he could just tilt his head forward and his lips would connect with yours and he was certain it would be delicious. Your eyes had captured his gaze, and he felt as if he could stare into them forever-
No, stop!
You flinched at his sudden movements when he pulled away to turn around, with his back facing you.
His heart sunk into his stomach, mentally cursing himself now that he wasnât facing you anymore. He couldnât believe he had actually wanted to kiss you, his best friend. It wouldnât be right, especially not tonight when you were as vulnerable as you were. Heâd be a complete asshole to take advantage of that. Not to mention how embarrassed he would have been in the morning when you werenât trapped under the haze of heartbreak and would have realised how much of a mistake it had been.
âGood night,â he said in his usual, cheerful tone and the curse was broken.
The next morning, youâd woken up to an empty bed, much like you always did when you spent the night. What was out of the ordinary, was seeing him in the kitchen in full swing serving pancakes and ice cream calling it âthe breakfast for breakupsâ.
You couldnât tell if you were hurt or not by how he was acting, as if last night never happened. Was he not going to mention how close the two of you had been to locking lip? He simply went about the morning, just as happy as he always was.
And never brought it up.
ââËïœĄâ
You were eighteen years old when you and Satoru fell apart.
Satoru had left for college, and at first youâd been so lost on what to do. For the first time since you were six, he wasnât immediately at your side.
You remembered the day he left so clearly, clinging on around his neck, refusing to let go because you didnât want him to get in his car and drive off, unsure when youâd see him again. When the two of you eventually managed to break the hug, you heard a not so subtle sniffle and spotted faint redness around his eyes.
âDonât tell me youâre crying, âToru,â you teased in between your own sniffles.
âYou got me there,â he said with a sad chuckle slipping out, surprising you that he didnât even attempt to fire back, just surrendering to his emotions. âGonna miss you.â
âGonna miss you too,â you whispered in response. Not much more was spoken before he drove off, like it all was just too much for either of you to talk about.
The first few days you didnât do much else than lay in bed and wait for him to call, like he promised he would. And exactly at 8 pm, your phone lit up with his name where he told you all about how hectic his days were â and he wasnât sure if heâd be able to have daily calls anymore once the semester started for real.
âNo, of course. I mean, I go back to school soon too so.â
And as the time went on, the calls got more and more rare. From every day, to three times a week, once a week, until you were lucky it happened every fourteen days.
Even though you hated it, you couldnât blame him. Of course he was busy, he had an entirely new everyday life filled with classes and new people. And when he did make time for the phone call, you couldnât help but feel genuine happiness when you heard how excited he was about all of it. But you knew you couldnât keep sitting around sulking as you waited for his call. You decided you had to be okay without him.
It was your senior year after all â it was your time to shine, and you were still with the popular crowd even though Satoru wasnât there anymore. Now you finally had the opportunity to get to know them better.
Turned out you had more in common with them than you thought, getting particularly close with the girls of the group. And it was refreshing to have girl friends, who seemed to match some of your interests in a way Satoru never managed to. Your horizons just expanded, your schedule packed nearly from morning until night. Not to mention your weekends were also busy. The parties you and Satoru usually left early or skipped all together, had become fun.
This weekend was no different. Sitting at your vanity doing your makeup for the evening when you heard your momâs voice yell from downstairs. âThereâs someone here to see you.â
âJust send her up,â you yelled back. But when you turned around to face who you thought was your friend who was coming to get ready with you, your jaw dropped at the sight of the tall figure standing there instead.
âHer? Not the last time I checked,â Satoru smiled.
âOh, my god, âToru!â You squealed in excitement, running at him as you threw your arms around him in a tight hug, smiling even harder when he hugged you back just as firmly.
When he let you down, your eyes was instantly drawn to his. Itâs been so long since youâd been able to stare into those captivating, blue eyes, and now you melted having them look down on you for the first time in months. Now that you were finally able to see him again, to touch him again, it hit you like a semi truck just how much you had missed him. You even found yourself getting a little emotional, blinking away the wetness in your eyes.
âGod, donât wanna ruin my makeup,â you laughed.
âI was just about to say, you look great,â he said, unable to peer his eyes off you, because âgreatâ was an understatement.
âWhy, thank you,â you beamed at him, a smile stretching from one ear to another.
âGoing somewhere?â His eyebrows narrowed, letting his chipper composure slip for just a second but he quickly tried to shake it off.
âYeah, thereâs a party tonight. The groupâs going, but I can cancel if-â
âNo, of course not. Iâm home all weekend.â There was a slight twinge in your heart, disappointed that he didnât have the guts to accept your offer. There was not a single ounce of doubt that youâd drop the party for him in a heartbeat â you had after all longed for him to come home to visit since the second his car had driven out of view the day he left.
âWell, maybe you could come along?â You suggested, grabbing his hands in yours.
âI just think Iâm going to stay home with my parents tonight,â he swallowed, giving you a weak smile.
He knew he should have just taken you up in the offer to ditch the party, but he didnât have the heart to, especially when you were all dolled up for the evening already.
All heâd looked forward to was come home and hang with you and catch up all night, never falling asleep because he had missed your voice so much. But he knew that eventually, the guilt would eat him up, hogging you for the night when you were supposed to be somewhere else.
Now he had to sit at home, alone and bored, because he had lied when he told you about his parents, seeing as they werenât back in town until tomorrow. He knew he would spend the night miserable, but it would beat having to tag along at your heels to a party he didnât want to attend in the first place and witness how close youâd gotten to all your new friends while heâd been away, still preferring to have you to himself.
âWill you at least stay until I leave? And then Iâm all yours for the whole of tomorrow?â For the time being, he managed to let his blues slip away, especially when you gawked at him with a sparkle in your eyes and an infectious smile.
âOf course.â His eyes followed your cheerful walk back to your vanity as he sat down on your bed. Once seated, your conversation flowed like normal, as if no time had passed at all since the last time you saw each other. He told you about classes and how much more difficult it was now, especially seeing as he wasnât the biggest fan of studying.
And he knew he should be excited when you told him everything about your new life. How youâd finally taken the time to get the know the rest of the group and how great they all were, how fun you had it with all of them with all the stuff you guys did in your spare time, but heâd be lying if he said it didnât sting. He felt as if he was missing everything, losing the spot he used to have with you, replaced by his old friends. He knew it was unfair to think that way, but but there was no stopping his doomed spiralling.
âOh, and thatâs probably her coming now!â You perked up when footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs. The next second, a girl he knew used to be in his friend group stood in the doorway.
âSatoru? What a pleasant surprise,â she beamed at him, and guilt hit him when he couldnât even remember her name.
âYeah, just home for the weekend,â he smirked at her.
She flashed him another smile before turning to you. âYou ready?â
âJust about,â you sighed. Quickly, you grabbed your purse and skipped over to Satoru. âSee you tomorrow, okay?â You said cheerfully as you placed a quick peck on his cheek before running out, leaving him standing alone in your bedroom.
He stared dumbfounded at the empty space you occupied just seconds ago, still surprised by the kiss as it was something completely new. Was that something youâd picked up from the group? Did that mean you went around kissing everyoneâs cheeks? His mind ran crazy with questions, all making him equally jealous.
ââËïœĄâ
âPick up, pick up, pick up,â you whispered into the phone still ringing. It was the third time you had tried to call Satoru and he still hadnât picked up, which was incredibly unlike him. He always picked up almost immediately, especially when you were calling.
âHey,â you finally heard him sigh on the other end of the line.
âThank god you answered,â you said, teeth chattering in the freezing cold. âCould you please, please, please pick me up?â
âYou okay?â There was a hint of worry in his voice, but you had a sneaking suspicion he was trying to conceal it.
âNo. Or yes. Or I donât know, but Iâm cold and I need to go home!â Another sigh.
âWhere are you?â
âYouâre my angel,â you breathed before giving him the address.
âIâll be there in fifteen.â Before you managed to say goodbye, Satoru had already hung up. You stared blankly at the phone for a few seconds in shock of his abrupt ending, but right now, you were too cold to ponder any further on his behaviour. Tightly having folded your arms around yourself and rubbing your legs together, you desperately tried to get some heat in your body.
Finally, you saw the familiar car pull up in front of you, a sigh of relief leaving your body once you were greeted by the hot air as you sat down in the passenger seat.
âYouâre really a life saver,â you spoke as you leaned your head back on the headrest, waiting to meet his eyes but he never turned to look at you. His eyes were glued to the road, a tight grip on the steering wheel as he kept chewing on the inside of his cheek. âYou okay, âToru?â
ââM just fine,â he answered simply, still fixated on the road.
âThen why wonât you look at me?â You snorted, which made him quickly turn his head to give you a cold glare before looking at the road again.
âHow come you were standing out in the cold all alone?â When he didnât acknowledge your question further, you just fell back into your seat again and decided not to take it any further.
âYou donât wanna know,â you sighed, staring out the window.
âNo, Iâm curious.â If his tone told you anything, it was that he was pissed. You just hoped it wasnât directed at you.
âI was kicked out.â
âWhat, too drunk to be in the house?â His comment caught you off guard at it seemed nothing but spiteful. You flipped your head to look at him again, only to see he was still unwilling to look at you.
âDo I seem too drunk to you?â He only shrugged, knowing the answer was ânoâ. âIf you wanna know, I-â you stopped yourself from finishing, too embarrassed to utter the words.
âDonât get shy on my behalf.â
âI was about to sleep with someone, but after we undressed, something came over him and he just threw me out,â you complained, crossing your arms and staring at the road like he had earlier.
âYou what?â Satoru exclaimed, and now he finally decided to shoot you a glare. âWho?â
âDoes it matter?â You shrugged, avoiding his gaze which you knew was just purely judgemental. It seemed he was more upset about the part where you were going to sleep with someone than the fact that you were literally thrown out, which only ended up fuelling your own anger.
âWho was it?â He repeated sternly.
âJust some guy I met there, I donât know,â you shrugged, and instantly a loud huff left Satoru.
âWow,â he said in utter disbelief. âSo this is who you are now.â Finally turning to look at him again, your face hot with anger, you saw his eyebrows were raised in frustration and his tongue was poking the inside of his cheek.
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
âNever knew you to be someone who just spread your legs for anyone.â You gaped at him, not believing the words coming out of his mouth.
âStop the car,â you managed to force out somewhat calmly through gritted teeth.
âIâm not stopping-â
âStop the fucking car, Satoru,â you practically yelled at him, startled when he suddenly slammed the breaks. Once the car had stopped, you didnât hesitate to unbuckle your seatbelt and scramble out of the car, hearing him call your name before you slammed the door shut after you.
With your arms wrapped around yourself, you started to walk down the street in the direction of your house, knowing you were still pretty far from home. But you knew you were too furious to get back in the car with Satoru.
âCome on, get back in the car,â Satoruâs voice complained down the street.
âSo you can slut shame me some more? Think Iâll pass,â you shouted back. It took only a second until you heard the car engine shut off before hurried footsteps against the wet pavement made its way over to you, Satoru positioning himself right in front of you.
âFine, sorry, please get back in the car,â he said disingenuous, scowling down at you with his hands in his pockets.
âYou expect me to accept that apology?â You scowled right back at him.
âStop acting like a brat and just-â
âBrat? Really?â You interrupted him, raising your eyebrows at him. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it just as quickly with a deep sigh. âThought so.â Keeping your mean glare at him, you tried to walk past him, but he surprised you by taking a strong grip of your arm.
âSo is this like a weekly occurrence now?â You forcefully pulled out of his grip.
You simply shrugged while trying to find the right answer, wanting to keep your own anger in check even though you felt you were close to boiling over. âI mean, thereâs something happening every weekend but that doesnât mean I always participate.â He only scoffed, turning away from you and looking around the street. âWhat?â
âSo now youâre just this crazy party girl that sleeps with anyone thatâs available?â
You truly couldnât believe it was Satoru saying these words to you, your best friend in the entire world. The person youâd known most your life, who knew your every deepest, darkest secret and had never judged you in the slightest â suddenly throwing mean words right to your face like you were just some nobody.
âLike youâre one to talk! You flirt with any girl that has a pulse, and not just in school. Remember, you went to parties too and enjoyed wallowing in the attention of anyone whoâd give it to you!â
âI never liked going to parties. I still donât,â he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
âGlad to see some things hasnât changed, unlike the fact that youâve turned into an asshole,â you spat at him, trying to walk away again, but he yanked a hold of you once more.
âWell, Iâm not the only one who has changed,â he said in a low voice, giving you a stern look through his eyebrows.
A light laugh of disbelief escaped you, the tears quickly starting to well up in your eyes. Was this really the same person youâd physically been unable to let go off five months ago? The one person you believed could never intentionally hurt you the way he was now?
âThatâs what this is about, isnât it?â Flickering between his eyes, you knew youâd caught on. âDid you really think I was going to sit around and wait for you?â
âI certainly didnât expect you to go and replace me the first chance you got.â
âReplace you?!â You exclaimed before the entire sentence had left his lips.
âYes, replace me!â He fired back, his tone more angry than he wanted it to be, because sadness was all he truly felt.
âSo you havenât gotten any new friends at university?â
âThatâs different-â
âOh my god, Satoru,â you moaned in frustration, your hands rubbing your face. âI am so tired of you saying it is different for you! Youâve done that for years.â
Satoru had his hands deeply tucked in his pockets, his shoulders up to his ears with tension. He was already filled with guilt for talking to you this way, something heâd never done before. Then again, he couldnât remember having this many negative feelings regarding you running wild in him.
âItâs baffling to me that youâre actually saying all these things to me, like it isnât you that keep postponing our phone calls.â You said, your tone transformed from anger into the sorrow that had taken residence in you instead.
He breathed your name, almost like he seemed disappointed in a way. âClasses are riding my ass.â
âYou donât think I know that?â You fired back immediately, your tone remaining calm as you continued to hold back the tears. âBut truth is, it has caused you to not make time for the phone calls.â
âYou canât expect me to be able to make time-â
What seemed to be the mix of a sob and a scoff parted your lips, cutting him off. It was like talking to a brick wall, because it felt like nothing you said reached him.
Had he always been like this? Too wrapped up with his own idea of being right that he took no regards for your opinion? If so, how had the two of you managed to go all those years without you properly realising it?
âIf you havenât been paying attention, itâs not me thatâs had too many expectations, but you!â
His head fell back, retrieving his hands from his pockets to fold them over his chest. As his entire posture turned loose, you couldnât bare to look at him when the first tear fell. He just seemed to be so sick of this conversation â sick of you â an idea that made you want to throw up on the spot.
âYouâre being unreasonable,â he said in a low voice, as if he knew he was in the wrong but too stubborn to back down. Heâd already been so cruel, a part of him feeling like he had already gone too far to double down now.
âIâm being unreasonable?!â You snapped, walking right up to him, now close enough to feel the heat radiate off him. âYouâve got to be fucking kidding with me?â
Never in a million years could you have predicted your favourite person in the universe to speak to you this way, biting your head off for simply living your life. But it went deeper than being upset about you going to some random party. It seemed like he truly disliked the person you were right now, and nothing had ever hurt you as much.
âFor the record, I did wait. So many nights I just sat in my room, staring at the damn phone, waiting for you to call.â You were sobbing now, all restraints of your tears out the window. âBut I think youâre not half as busy with your studies as you claim to be, but very busy making new friends, which is why itâs nothing but cruel of you to go at me like this!â
âYou always do that!â He snapped, causing your sobs to halt for a second, eyebrows quirking up in surprise. âYou always assume these things about me, paint me out to be this specific person without having all the facts.â
âI know you better than I know myself, for fucks sake! You hate to work, avoid it for all that itâs worth, and now youâre trying to tell me you work so hard?â Silence. âAnd youâve always loved attention. You feed on it, and every single living person on this planet canât help but just give it to you! Iâm willing to bet my last dime youâre surrounded with all sorts of people just fighting for your time!â
Without stuttering, you fired shot after shot, feeling bad even though every last word of it was true.
The reality of the fight washed over you, knowing youâd never fought like this before. A friendship spanning twelve years was doomed to have some disagreements along the way. And with both you and Satoru having such strong personalities, there had been quite a few. But never had either of you ever turned mean, like right now, no matter how serious the argument had been.
âDespite what you might think, Iâm not one of your silly school girls who just follow you around to stroke your ego. Iâm my own person, always have been. And Iâm sorry youâre pissy about the fact that Iâm doing fine without you here and Iâm sorry that the image you had of me is finally shattering.â
You felt youâd gotten what you had on your mind off your chest, and all that fell out of you now were uncontrollable sobs. Not only were you absolutely devastated, but you were scared. The person that stood before you didnât feel like someone you knew, meaning you had no idea what might come out of his mouth next.
âThink I see you clearer than ever.â
Sucking your bottom lip in between your teeth, you tried to choke back your sobs, not feeling he was worthy of hearing the affect he had on you right now. You slowly began to nod your head, looking about for a few seconds before you simply began to walk away without saying another word. And this time you didnât feel his hand grab your arm.
The second your head had hit the pillow after youâd gotten home, you erupted into loud, unruly sobs, that even managed to wake your parents. They stormed into your room, beyond scared something was terribly wrong, and your mom managed to pull your head into her lap, stroking your hair in an attempt to get you to calm down so youâd be able to tell them what had happened, but to no prevail. While she desperately tried to hum you to peace, your dad stood watching in anguish as he had no clue what to do in order to help.
Eventually, the sobs wore you out to the point where you fell asleep in her lap.
Waking up the next morning, youâd felt like it had all been just a horrible nightmare, and in just a few minutes, Satoru would stand at your door, so excited to just do absolutely nothing with you like you had planned.
But you sat in your bed and stared at the door, waiting for him to show up but he never did. When you became restless, you paced around the room, daring to glance out the window in hopes youâd spot him sitting by his windowsill. But here too, you were left disappointed. No Satoru shaped silhouette made himself known, and at some point during the day, he had shut the blinds without you noticing.
Two days later, your mom came into your room and asked why Satoru had left to go back to university already when you guys hadnât hung out yet.
ââËïœĄâ
You were twenty years old when you started university.
After a therapeutic gap year of working and travelling, you were finally ready to go back to school, excited to see what the life of a university student was all about.
So far it all seemed to go as smoothly as one could hope for â moving in and setting up in your small dormitory, putting in a lot of effort to make it a space where you could feel at home. Signing up for classes and getting all the books you needed was easier than expected, some kindhearted strangers more than willing to help you get it all right. And lastly, finding your way around campus wasnât nearly the issue you thought it would be. You easily manoeuvred your way around the grounds, quickly coming across spots you could picture yourself just hanging out.
You were more than prepared by the time the first class rolled around, entering the huge auditorium, nervously walking down the stairs and sitting down in an available seat in one of the rows closer to the front.
Suddenly it began to dawn on you that you were actually in university, working your way to a future career like youâd always talked about. All your hard work in school, your academic achievements, finally paying off, letting you be in environment of equally dedicated individuals.
However, even though your peers seemed to be on the same level as you academically, you got the impression they had excelled passed you socially already. As you let your eyes roam the crowd, you noticed how people had already made friends and even formed groups, greeting each other with warm smiles as they sat down together.
You didnât have the chance to brood about it for too long, as a roaring voice spoke up from the front of the classroom, drawing everyoneâs attention to him, the chatter quickly quieting down. The assertive figure introduced himself before heading straight into the plans for the semester, asking if anyone had any questions. While a few students raised their voice, you just desperately wrote down everything being said, just in case it might be useful somewhere down the line.
âI look forward to teach you this introductory class in education. Iâm sure youâll make great teachers one day,â he smiled. âBefore we get started, thereâs someone Iâd like to introduce. I have the privilege of being assigned a TA this semester â come on up.â
Everyoneâs eyes followed the professors gesture towards the person whoâd just gotten up from his chair by the exit. All the air was immediately sucked out of your lungs when your eyes landed on the one person you hadnât expected to see.
âGood morning everyone,â he said in his characteristically suave voice, hearing the girls in the auditorium instantly begin to whisper amongst them at the sight of him. âIâm Satoru Gojo, Iâll be the professors teacher assistant this semester. Any questions you might-â
The words instantly died in his throat when his gaze landed on you, tensed up in your seat. He could almost see you shiver under his intense glare.
Nearly two years had passed since the last time he saw you, and not a day had gone by where he hadnât cursed himself for how he treated you that night. He regretted it all, but hadnât been able to bring himself to face you and apologise, even though you more than deserved it.
Eventually, the days just passed him by and it felt like an injustice for him to just jump into your life again so he decided not to, which resulted in the most miserable two years of his life.
You wanted to look away, but the shock of seeing him again had taken over your body, holding your attention hostage under his drilling blue eyes.
Heâd let his hair grow a little longer, which suited him, even though he didnât need it to improve his looks. It also seemed to have bulked up a little. Not much, just enough for you to notice as his navy, button up shirt hugged his arms in a way his clothes never had before.
âMr. Gojo?â The professorâs voice broke his stare, bringing him back to real world and acknowledging all the faces staring at him.
âYeah, sorry-â he cleared his throat. âAny questions you might have, donât hesitate to come to me,â he stuttered over his sentence, shooting you quick glance even though he tried to keep his attention on the crowd.
With a shy smile, he made his way back to his seat, his eyes once again finding you as he was seated. You shrunk in your seat, your entire body on fire from having his eyes observe you for the first time in so long, sure youâre heart might actually stop from the stress.
Throughout the entire lecture, you both kept stealing glances from one another, an unspoken sensation filling the air between you, like you both could feel how badly youâd missed and craved the other the period youâd been separated.
His eyes carried the same weight they always did when looking at you, uncomfortably restless in your seat, fidgeting with the paper of your notebook and trying to keep the tapping of your foot to a minimum. When your eyes werenât automatically drawn to Satoru, you peeked at the clock hanging above the whiteboard, begging for time to pass so you could storm out of the classroom and finally be able to breath properly again.
You were sure the seconds lasted longer now than normal, but the lecture finally ended and you instantly began to gather your things, shoving them in your bag as quickly as possible. Daring to shoot Satoru another look, you were glad to see heâd been surrounded by students (mostly girls), hindering him from making his way to you â or so you thought.
âI have a meeting to get to,â Satoru lied, looking at you packing up your stuff before rushing up the stairs towards the auditorium exit. âBut hereâs my email. Just⊠send whatever questions you might have and Iâll answer as soon as I have the time.â It didnât seem like anyone picked up on the fact that he was lying through his teeth, but they all wore a disappointed expression when he began to push his way through the crowd, sprinting up the stairs to catch up with you.
You stopped dead in your tracks, even though you wanted to just keep moving, when you heard that silky smooth voice speak your name. You reluctantly turned around to face him, still only managing to let out shallow breaths.
âI- Uhm.â Now that he finally had your full attention, his mind ran blank and his mouth dry, in awe at your familiar eyes staring up at him, lips pressed together in a tight line. âHi.â
âHi,â you tried to reply, but barely a sound could be heard. His eyes shot to your feet, as you kept shifting your weight from one foot to the other, clearly not at ease seeing him again.
âYou look- I mean I didnât know you wanted to become a teacher,â he stumbled over his words, his hand coming up to rub the nape of his neck.
âMe neither,â it slipped out of you, instantly pinching your eyes shut when you reflected on what had left your lips. âWhat I mean is I only decided recently.â
He groaned softly, feeling like nothing he wanted to say would be enough. âYou finding university alright?â
It hurt. Holy hell, how it hurt, not to have the conversation flow as natural. Every atom in your body tried to convince you to just lean into what you were used to, resurrect the friendship just like that.
You nodded frantically at his question. âYeah, much to see.â
Clearing his throat, he gathered up the courage to ask what had roamed his mind since he spotted you at the start of the lecture. âIf youâre ever available, Iâd love for us to grab a coffee or something,â he said it so quickly you were barely able to decode what he even suggested, but once it registered, you drew another sharp breath.
âSure.â
âReally?â Narrowing his eyebrows at you, he hadnât expected you to accept so willingly. He hadnât really expected you to accept at all, if he was honest.
You didnât know if you regretted accepting his invitation so quickly, but if there was a chance heâd apologise, you wanted to hear it simply because you deserved it. Or maybe that was the excuse you told yourself because you so desperately wanted to hang out with him.
âYou havenât changed your number, right?â You shook your head. âIâll just text you.â The faintest smile grew on your lips as you simply nodded, a light blush spreading across Satoruâs face at the delightful sight.
âSee you around, âToru,â you said out if habit, quickly turning around and walking away so he wouldnât be able to see that you too were blushing, regretting the use of his old nickname.
It didnât even take two hours before your phone dinged with a text from him, where he suggested a time and place.
toru <3: how about next friday after the lecture? thereâs this great coffeehouse five minutes from campus
you: sounds good :)
It seemed Friday couldnât come quick enough, your anxiousness building up every lecture you had together. Despite feeling like the worst of the shock had passed as you simply flashed each other a friendly smile and a small wave when you saw each other, your mind would never get peace until everything was out in the open.
And now you finally sat opposite him, a strong grip on your mug to put your nerves somewhere. Satoru was scared you might shatter it, your knuckles turning white by how hard you were clutching at it.
âIâm really glad you decided to join,â he started awkwardly.
In all the years youâd known him, youâd never had the satisfaction of witnessing him awkward. It seemed like his default setting was mr. smooth talker, always able to find the right words in order to get what he wanted no matter how unlikely it seemed. But all that was out the window, staring at you with a sense of embarrassment, looking like a scared, young boy forced to face his stupid crush, waiting to get rejected after a sorry attempt at asking for a date.
âMe too.â
âYou look really pretty- I mean, you look great. Youâve turned out pretty. Not that you were ugly before, youâve never been ugly. In fact-â
His clumsy attempt at talking to you was cute, which was all it took to start chipping away at your cold exterior, the corner of your lips betraying you as it curled up in a small smirk.
âThank you,â you said softly, his shoulders instantly relaxing.
Something about you was definitely different, but the tone in your voice made him realise it was actually you that was sitting in front of him; his best friend. There was no reason he shouldnât be anything but comfortable around you. Especially now when heâd been offered the opportunity to maybe make amends, he couldnât throw it away.
âIâm sorry,â he said genuinely. âI donât want to give you any dumb excuses, because there arenât any. Iâm sorry and you didnât deserve any of what I said to you that night.â
His voice had turned steady now, taking back the assertiveness you were so used to hearing. âIâm sorry too.â
He instantly snorted, much to your surprise. âYou have absolutely nothing to be sorry about.â He seemed to hold back a chuckle.
âWell, duh, but thought it was polite thing to say.â You were surprised by your own words, mirroring his humoured and shocked expression. Maybe he didnât deserved to have you resort to playful banter already, but it just fell out of you so naturally. âYou look great too, by the way.â
âHeavy is the head that wears the crown,â he smirked smugly, while you rolled your eyes at him.
âUneasy is the head that wears the crown,â you corrected him, trying to suppress the smile tugging at your lips.
âOkay, nerd.â
Your lips pursed together, unable to fight it anymore, a sweet smile hiding under the annoyed facade â and he noticed, his heart doing a full flip at finally being able to see it in person again. Heâd only been able to dream of it in the time apart, and a hope began to spring in him that finally he might get you back in his life.
And this was just the first coffee of many. It started as a weekly thing, in the beginning consisting of airing it all out in order to establish the trust again. But it didnât take long until you both fell into an old and familiar pattern.
It started with tagging along to lectures. Next thing, Satoru suggested you ordered dinner while studying, however not much studying was done. The evening was spent sitting on the floor of your dorm, stuffing your faces with take out and reminiscing of your days back in high school, talking about all the gossip and drama that went down.
There was a mutual understanding that you both had to make up for the lost time, both sad youâd wasted so long not being in contact when it could all have been resolved if youâd both been mature enough to just reach out.
But despite both of you resorting to old habits, quickly acting as close as you were back then, things had escalated.
Before, heâd simply thrown his arm lazily across your shoulders without a single thought. Now his muscular arm held a more possessive grip on you like he was preventing another outcome of you slipping away. And unlike before, you matched his energy, letting your arm slide along his back and grab tightly ahold of his waist to secure him close to you.
When he subconsciously began to fidget with your fingers, you eventually let your fingers glide between his to interlock your hands, where both of you just let them rest, his thumb softly stroking you.
And when he was gentleman enough to open the door for you every chance he got, he gawked at you with pure affection in his eyes and he sneakily let his hand rest on the small of your back as you passed him.
Neither of you ever mentioned it. You gladly just let it happen, both leaning into it, getting more and more touchy as time went on. And it didnât go unnoticed by your fellow students, ugly glares in your direction as they wondered how youâd gotten so close to the incredibly hot TA in the matter of weeks, also considering how many people he had throwing themselves at his feet.
You couldnât care less however. You were simply living in the joyful bliss of having your best friend back.
ââËïœĄâ
His jaw dropped to the floor when you stepped out of the bathroom, not even noticing his lingering gaze on you, simply walking over to your purse to get your lipgloss.
The sinfully short dress hugged your curves just right, leaving little to the imagination. His eyes darted to the knee high, leather boots that elongated your enticing legs before letting his eyes indulge up your body, tracing your exposed collarbones-
âSatoru?â Drawing his attention to your face, which genuinely left him stunned having enhanced your already beautiful features, hair tucked up messily by a claw clip. âYou look like youâve seen a ghost.â
More like an angel, he thought, trying to snap out of the haze you had him under as he slowly began to approach you.
What was happening?
There was a hunger in his eyes youâd never seen before, at least not looking at you. It was like he moved in slow motion, your heart quickly picking up the pace the closer he got. âSatoru?â You asked again, but a tremble in your voice exposed your nerves. âWhat are you doing?â
A confident, on brand smirk made its way onto his face, revealing his infamous dimples as he let his hand slip to your cheek, sliding it to the side of your throat and letting his thumb draw graciously soft lines along your jaw.
âI should have kissed you that night.â
His quiet confession filled the room, having your sole focus be his eyes, those beautiful, heavenly eyes that always saw right through you. The night in question had often played in your mind, fantasising about what could have happened if either of you had decided to cross the line.
âWould you have kissed me back?â The dominance in his voice had a weird influence on you, causing your eyes to flicker away from his eyes to travel across the attractive line of his curved lips.
âWithout hesitation.â His grin widened, his thumb now moving to stroke your bottom lip. Much like that god forsaken night, he leaned forward, but this time he let his nose brush against yours, his breath brushing against your lips.
âWeâre skipping the party,â he whispered.
âDidnât wanna go anyways,â you huffed before finally being the one to engage the kiss, crashing into his lips, just as soft as youâd always imagined them to be.
Hungrily tying you arms around his neck in order to help deepen the passionate kiss, you felt his tongue slide along your bottom lip as if he was asking for you to open your mouth, to which you happily obliged.
His firm hands slid down your waist before stopping at your thighs, squeezing slightly into your plush flesh. Without breaking the kiss, you jumped into his arms with ease, wrapping your legs around his slim waist as he placed his hands on your ass, not an ounce of fear in you that heâd ever drop you.
Your hands found their way to his soft hair, instantly drawing out a soft moan from him, causing you to smile into the kiss.
âThatâs what you like, huh?â You teased, pulling away from him order to get a look at his face.
âShut up,â he chuckled before reconnecting your lips when you felt he began to walk in the direction of your bedroom.
Since rekindling your friendship, everything had moved at the speed of light. As it all had happened, youâd noticed the increased intimacy, both physically and mentally, but you hadnât wanted to assume it was anything more than just a result of missing each other.
Youâd experienced a new sensation of yearning for Satoru, one that had previously only passed you by in random split seconds which youâd always suppressed to the back of your mind. Never had you wanted to jeopardise your friendship for anything, especially for what you thought was just innocent lust that naturally washed over anyone that was in the close vicinity of Satoru.
But clearly you were wrong. Maybe there had always been a stronger desire to explore him in a different way that had just been buried because it seemed illegal. Not to forget the fact that it was being reciprocated, his strong hands exploring your body with an urgency you had never experienced with anyone before.
The meaningful and deep history only appeared to fuel the hunger you felt for one another, behaving as if neither of you had experienced the phenomenon of another personâs touch in a lifetime â and it was only specifically each other who could satisfy the need.
Still with a tight grip, he hesitatingly let you down, his hands sliding up your body to hoist your dress so it gathered around your lower abdomen. âThis dress need to come off, baby,â he breathed into your mouth as he continued to pull it up your body.
You simply lifted your arms to let him twist the dress over your head, his eyes instantly locking to your perky tits as if they were calling his name. Before he had the chance to give into the temptation of fondling them, playing with your nipples, you tugged at the bottom of his sweater. No way you were going to stand in all your glory while his clothes served as a hindrance to your desire.
Again his alluring smirk greeted you, more than willingly pulling it over his head to reveal his chiselled torso, confirming your theory that he had gotten bulkier, because you would definitely have remembered if he looked like that before.
âIs this crazy?â You asked shakily after having removed your shoes and reaching for his belt buckle. Noticing the slight jitters hiding between your excitement, he snatched ahold of your chin to force you to look at his face.
âNot crazier than the fact that I should have done this ages ago.â
Pulling your face towards him, he had you standing on your tip toes in order to dedicate as much of yourself to the kiss as humanly possible.
Once the pants were off him, your hand found his chest, fighting the urge to dig your nails into his toned pecks, guiding him backwards to sit down on your bed. With glee you straddled him, embarrassment flushed your cheeks as a needy whimper just fell from your lips when his huge bulge ended up pressing against your clothed core, an amused eyebrow quirking up on Satoruâs face.
âDamn, calm down,â he teased, your nose scrunching up to conceal the playful smile that was taking over.
âIdiot.â Grabbing his face, you let your open mouth graze against his when one of his hands palmed your clothed pussy, pulling another moan from your lips.
Without warning, he pulled your black laced panties aside, his thumb rubbing small circles on your clit. You bit your lip to choke back yet another moan. Knowing Satoru, you knew heâd forever hold it against you â how he managed to withdraw those lewd sounds from you so easily.
âSo wet for me already, sweetheart,â he panted, enjoying the view of your scrunched up face of pleasure. âCanât wait to feel you around me.â
ââToru, I-â you forced out when you felt him slip two lengthy digests inside you as he traced soft, little pecks along your collarbone that he had admired earlier. Hearing you barely able to utter his nickname mixed with the low squelching of your pussy, basically drenched already, was something he had only been able to imagine before. And god, was the real thing ten times better than his fantasy.
âGetting shy around me, pretty? Thatâs unlike you.â Again you wanted to roll your eyes at him, because he was even more cheeky when having you at his mercy than normal. But the consistent pressure on your sensitive nub along with the movement of his fingers were too much to even give that a try.
Fingertips clawing at his shoulders, slowly starting to rock your hips as you were being drawn closer and closer to the edge.
His smooth motion had you seeing stars behind your eyelids, the tingle of orgasm bubbling up inside you when he had you gasp in disappointment when you were deprived of his skilled touch.
Motherfucker.
âWhat-â your eyes fluttered open in confusion before you were thrown off his lap, landing softly on your back, sinking into the mattress. Next thing, his boxers hit the floor, exposing his already rock hard dick. Eyeing the size, his cocky personality suddenly made a whole lot of sense.
Hovering over you, he swiftly tilted your head to the side to place a series of open mouthed kisses as he used his leg to spread your legs apart, setting himself up between them, feeling his tip slightly touch your entrance as it twitched.
âI need you,â it vibrated against your skin, one arm wrapping around his back in a desperate need to feel every inch of him, while the other traveled south to lace around his dick. It was your turn to draw sounds from him, a small, satisfied giggle ringing in his ear as a reaction to hearing his pathetic whimper.
âSorry,â your giggle trailed off when he lifted his head to look down at you, the ghost of a smile on his face telling you he enjoyed the small banter during it all.
You gave him a few slow pumps, using your thumb to rub some of his precum across his tip, aligning him with the opening of your cunt as he punished you with a rough kiss on the lips.
Thatâs when you finally let go, your hand finding his back again to prepare yourself to be filled with his dick. He didnât wait to slide into you with ease, gasping softly as you involuntarily clenched around his size, trying to get used to it.
âYou okay?â He mumbled as he rested his forehead against yours. You only nodded before pulling him in for another kiss, reassuring him that you were alright and more than ready.
The line was officially crossed â no going back now. You could never go back to being just best friends, but maybe that was for the best, that maybe youâd always meant to be more. Every fibre of his being had for a long time ached to have you like this, spread out and desperate for him and only him.
At first he moved in a slow and sensual pace, wanting to be entirely sure you could take it. Eyeing your expression in awe, finally being able to be the one to make you grimace with pleasure.
âWanted this for so long,â he murmured, being driven to lose all control hearing all your sweet whimpers, occasionally mumbling his name, which had him buck his hips faster and deeper, desperate to push you to climax.
Taking every inch of him over and over, stretching around him, he glanced down to get a look of the beautiful sight, his cock moving in and out, in and out, like you were made for him.
Your nails burrowed into his back before dragging down, too dazed in the bliss of Satoruâs cock stuffed in you to care about the red lines you knew youâd created, marking him as yours. Your toes curled as he kept feeding you horny affirmations and heartfelt compliments.
âFuck fuck fuck, look at that.â
âGod youâre so beautiful.â
âTaking me so good baby.â
âFuck, should have done this ages ago. Look so pretty around me.â
âHngh, âToru,â you mewled. âIâm gonna c-cum,â you begged, squeezing your eyes shut and arching closer to him to chase your high.
âAs you wish.â Something snapped in him, slamming into you at an unbearable speed, balls smacking your ass as he kept shoving into you. You tried to make out words to tell him you were about to reach your limit, but you were too fucked out to form anything coherent, just a string of cute sounds of pleasure leaving your pretty mouth. âCum fâme.â
His simple command had you nearly scream as the sweet release washed over you, head pushing back into your pillow as he gave you the most intense orgasm you could remember. He fucked you through your high, feeling your body pressed against his until he too reached his climax, filling you with cum, a loud groan left him before his thrusts became lazy and sloppy.
He pulled out, collapsing on the bed beside you. You both turned to look at each other, instantly making eye contact. Whatever flashed between you caused you both to break into a calm laughter. Once it died down, your flipped to lay on your side and rested your chin on his shoulders.
âShould have known youâre quite a talker during sex, it adds up.â
âIs this complaining I hear?â He taunted, pinching his eyebrows together to challenge your statement. âBecause the way you just moaned my name like a slut-â
âOkay, fine, Iâll sush,â you laughed before hiding your face in the crook of his neck in embarrassment. Carefully he nudged his shoulder to have you look at him again, needing to take in your flushed face after it all, eyes roaming every part of it. âSo what happens now?â You breathed softly as your finger began to trace weak circles on his still damp chest.
Without thinking, he tilted your head up and placed an affectionate kiss on your forehead. âI know I donât wanna waste anymore time not being with you.â
âWe really screwed up there, huh?â As his secure arms wrapped around you to have you as close to him as possible, his chest vibrated with a low chuckle.
âNot my fault you were out and about, throwing your phone number at your customers.â
âOh alright, if you wanna blame previous conquests, then thereâs-â he instantly placed his large hand over your mouth to muffle the list of girl names you could remember him being with.
âStill such a brat-â you interrupted his insult by defending yourself the only way you could, sticking out your tongue to lick all over his palm. Before you even had the chance to understand what was going on, it backfired when he instantly rubbed his hand all over your face, smearing your spit.
âSatoru,â you squealed before you both fell into a fit of laughter again.
Well into the night, you just talked and laughed. Sharing every single moment from your friendship that might have been pent of feelings for each other, realising this was how it always should have been. Neither of you had to hold back on the affection or affirmation anymore in fear of jeopardising what you already had. If anything, the relation you already shared only seemed to further ignite what would come to be.
For the first time, you fell asleep in his arms, being his.
ââËïœĄâ
You were twenty-seven years old when life was just perfect.
âBut pretty please!â Nobara complained, hands pressed together in prayer, close to falling to her knees to beg you to do her this small favour. It earned her an offended frown from both her classmates standing on each side of her. âItâs a testosterone nightmare.â
Before you were able to give her any form of response, two lean arms came lurking around your waist to spin you around, drawing bubbly giggles from your lips.
âMy god, Satoru, weâre at work!â You managed to force out between your joy, eventually feeling your feet planted safely on the ground again. He lazily rested his arm across your shoulders, towering over the group with a content smile on his face.
âSorry, just got excited.â He placed a small peck on the crown of your head, sprinkling a tint of pretty pink on your cheeks.
Over and over youâd told him to keep his devotion to you on the down-low in public, especially in front of the students but he never managed to follow the simple request, having the two of you act like love sick teenagers. And as much as you pretended not to, you melted as much at his antics now as you did way back when, rarely putting up much of a fight to actually tone down his behaviour.
Looking at the three first years in front of you, both Nobara and Megumi had a hint of disgust at the sight of how mushy Satoru got with you, always having a desire to be in contact with you one way or another. Yuji, on the other hand, always admired the sheer transparency of the relationship.
âSo whatâd I miss?â
âNobara want me to give her private lessons because sheâs sick of you boys.â
âYoung miss Kugisaki, dare I say Iâm disappointed?â Satoru said, acting overly dramatic, sporting pinched eyebrows to have them believe he was actually hurt.
âGojo-sensei, I have reason to believe Iâll learn even more having a female teacher,â she pouted.
âOuch,â he breathed in response.
âYouâll tough it out,â you chuckled, a small thank you whispered from the tall man pressed against your side before you opened your mouth again. âI mean, think about how I have it. At least youâre only linked to him during school hours while I live with the guy. I can never catch a break-â
A grunt escaped you as the arm draped around you tensed up, pulling you into a strong headlock. Endless laughter leaving you as you so desperately tried to pull out of his grip but to to prevail, cheek smushed against his ribs.
âCan you guys believe it?â Satoru gasped before carefully pulling up his blindfolds slightly to reveal one of his eyes to look directly down at you. âMy own wife?â
ââToru!â He just smiled down at you at the happy sounds from your beautiful mouth, also amused by your weak attempt to break free from his hold on you, messing up your hair as you desperately tried to pull your head back.
âYouâre both insufferable,â Megumi rolled his eyes, just wanting to go on with his day.
âAll Iâve done for you over the years, and still you find it in you to talk to me like that,â shaking his head in faux disappointment. You were finally able to pop your head out from his grip, not at all due to the fact that he intentionally loosened his hold on you a little. A low chuckle rumbling at the sight of your pouty lip hidden behind your bristly hair.
Pushing it out of your eyes, you clicked your tongue as you turned your attention to his students again. âDonât listen to a word he says.â
âIâll have you know, Iâm their favourite teacher,â he said proudly, shoving his hands in his pockets, leaning forward a little to me on the same level as you.
âIsnât much competition when youâre their only teacher.â
âYouâre feisty today. Get up in the wrong side of the bed this morning?â
âNo, I think it might have something to do with you hogging the covers all night.â
The bickering continued, bickering only possible to come from two people whoâd been best friends for decades, eventually causing the three friends to walk away with either of you noticing.
âWipe of that grin, sir, or youâre sleeping on the couch,â you threatened, nothing but pure amusement in your tone. His fingers found your face, squeezing your soft cheeks together, causing your sweet lips to stick forward looking more than inviting. A low giggle once again harboured deep in your throat, trying your best not to let them spill.
His face came closer â oh how he still managed to have the butterflies go crazy inside after all these years never seized to amaze you, feeling the alluring look through his blindfolds.
âWe both know youâd come crawling into my arms after an a hour,â he teased, close enough to your puckered lips for you to feel his warm breath.
âNuh uh-â was all you were able to muffle out between his fingers.
âDamn, I love you,â he spoke softly before planting a kiss on your mouth, unable to hold back the smirk that grew when his grip changed to a tender cup of your cheek.
Sometimes it baffled you how you both managed to be so incredibly, deeply and stupidly in love with each other. Youâd think after all those years with so much devotion and admiration shared, you would have grown tired of each other by now.
But you guessed it helped to be best friends with the person youâd chosen to be with for the rest of your life.
ââËïœĄâ
a/n hehe this is long... this is basically a love letter to gojo after 261, where i had my heart absolutely shattered like most of us yk. ive been super motivated to write it tho so just last week i had 30 hours screentime on my notes app lol... now, ive said it before and ill say it again, i am NOT a smut writer (clearly). personally, thats the part here i like the least bc i just feel like i cant get it to flow naturally... besides that hope you guys like this
reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated
plagiarism not authorized
#â àŹ my creative corner#satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#satoru imagine#satoru gojo imagine#satoru oneshot#satoru gojo oneshot#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu gojo#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#jjk satoru#jjk satoru gojo#satoru gojo/reader#jjk imagine#jjk imagines#gojo satoru x reader#jjk oneshot#jujutsu kaisen onehsot#jujutsu kaisen imagines#satoru gojo#satoru gojo x y/n#jujutsu kaisen oneshot#gojo
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LITTLE BOX FULL OF SURPRISES
masterlist â§works in procress ⧠AO3
based on this requestâ.á
-ËËsummary: The maimed one-eyed prince marries the most beautiful woman on earth. She is dutiful, beautiful and perfect, but Aemond can't stand when someone, specially his uncle, look with desire at what it is his. â§Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Tully!Original Female Character â§word count: 3.1k â§Warnings: : MDNI 18+, p in v sex, dom/sub undertones, face slapping, spitting on the mouth, degradation kink, possesive Aemond, Aemond is WHIPPED by his wife.
Every time his grandsire and his mother spoke of a Lady of great beauty coming to Kingâs landing, he rolled his eye.Â
Even when they present a small portrait, small to fit his palm, he does not seem impressed. Perhaps it is too small, perhaps it is too pretentious. Either the painter exaggerated your features or he couldnât properly paint a small portrait. But he was curious, after all. Named the most beautiful woman on earth, blessed by the Gods.Â
He doesnât doubt that Lady Tully was beautiful. Perhaps she was truly a beautiful woman, with her long red hair, âlike fireâ said the letter. But being called The Maiden on Earth seems exaggerated to him.
His grandsire had told them about the implications of his betrothal, about how important it was to have secured the Riverlands, since Grover Tully was an old lord, and will not understand reason. To have his most beloved granddaughter as a princess, was the only way to win his approval, and support.Â
Aemond finally meets her on the little garden near the Weirwood tree. They had been serving little cakes, as some lords and ladies talked nearby, not even half of court was here, and he liked the quietness. That made him less self-conscious.
She was near the table, her hand hovering above all the treats she could get, smiling as she watches them with interest. She is expressive, he realises. He hasnât seen her face, only her back and the day her hand moves and her head is tilted, curious about the southern gastronomy.
 âMy ladyâ Aemond says softly.Â
She turns so gracefully, and she is surprised to see him. Her hand still extended, and she quickly moves it to grab her skirts, and do a courtesy to him. She has a sweet smile, and she speaks.Â
 âMy princeâ she says, a bit surprised. âI⊠I didnât expect you.â
âI must admit I came a bit earlier than agreedâŠâ he murmurs, looking behind him and then back to her.
The most beautiful maiden on earth fell short to her. She was⊠something else, in the best way possible. She had that curiosity, that life in her eyes, as she smiles at him, her lips are perfect, and he could see that her maids probably used those Myrish lip taints, for they were a very natural red colour, almost matching with her hair. Her dress was magnificent, wearing the colour of her house, red and blue decorating everything. Even her eyes, blue like the opaque blue rivers in the Riverlands, and her hair, red like flames, matched with her house colours. She wore fish details, her earrings and in her dress pattern. But she was wearing a collar with a seven pointed star in it, and he sighed at her beauty. She was breathtaking.
âOh, well, so it seemsâŠâ she says as she smiles a bit sheepishly, looking at him. âItâs a fine castle, my prince. It does have its own beauty.âÂ
Aemond has never thought of the red Keep as something beautiful, at all. He always wanted to live in Dragonstone, but his wish was not granted. But, if she says so, it must be true, and with good reason.
âYou think so?âÂ
She grabs a lemon cake, and eats it carefully as she nods. âYes! And you also have a Weirwood tree here. When we made our trip here, we passed through Raventree, and their Weirwood was a bit⊠depressingâŠâ she says, smiling sweetly. âBut here itâs very beautiful. More⊠aliveâ
As she talks, he watches her closely. Even when his mother, his sickly father and his siblings arrive, when his mother gives him a scolding look for arriving earlier, he sort of watches you in silence, his chest swelling with an air of mystery.Â
âYou are not what I expectedâ he admits, quietly between the two of them as their parents talked about the betrothal.
âNo?â She asks smiling, licking her finger from the cream of the lemon cakes. âYouâll see Iâm a little box full of surprisesâÂ
Thatâs the beginning.
A ceremony on the Sept, as she stood next to him, reciting vows and the cloak with dragon sigils is on her shoulders, left behind the fish one. Aemond has never looked so smug and proud. The bedding ceremony was⊠traditional. Having a crowd was awkward for both, surely, but Aemond made it all more comfortable for her, covering her body with his, and not exposing her, at his own expense.
âJust focus on meâ He murmurs closely to her face, as she looks at him with wide eyes. He was between her open legs, and he insisted for her to keep her chemise on, while he had no problem in nudity âYour septa and mother could have told youâŠâ
âNot muchâ She whispers back.
âNot muchâ he repeats, moving a strand of hair out other face, tenderly watching her face for discomfort. âBut I will be gentle, and⊠weâll learn together. Yes?â
âYes. Thank youâŠ, husbandâ she says, and he feels a prideful pressure on his chest. He was her husband. The most beautiful womanâs husband.Â
And she was always thankful for his patience and gentleness towards her, and she stuck to him to all times, even when she was in court, charming everyone around. Her arm was always interlocked with his, and referred to him as âher sweet husbandâ.Â
Love came quieter than expected, as they laughed on their bed at nights, having picnics in the gardens or going to the Riverlands in Vhagar together, swimming on Riverrunâs rivers, and just⊠enjoying each other. It was more than love when they had their first son, a lovely and happy baby, mismatched eyes, with both purple and a deep blue. Aemond adored his son, his little Daerion, and he adored you more.
âBlack looks well on youâ Aemond comments.Â
Daerionâs blabbing was a way to agree with Aemondâs statement as the maid finished putting on her headband, the same tone of her dress. Her orange hair is in braids, two simple ones with some gold details on them, and some dragon earrings that he gifted her. She was gorgeous, and all his.Â
âYour wardrobe hasnât changedâ she states looking at him. âWent from velvet black to dark blackâÂ
Aemond walks over to his wife, watching her being just so beautiful like that, sitting, waiting peacefully like a porcelain doll.
âMhm... As if changing colours would make everything amicableâŠâ Aemond murmurs, taking Daerion in his arms, and he allows him to play with his hair. âDoes father know itâs useless? Rhaenyra wearing green wonât change anything, nor will my mother wearing black. HIs voice comes as a grunt as he bounces their baby.Â
âItâs foolish when you put it that wayâ her voice is tender, sweet, and somewhat like velvet. He is still besotted by her, as maidens do with knights. He watches the shape of her breasts on that dress, how the cleavage is so delightful for his eyes and the roundness of her tits that make the fabric around stretch a bit. As if the tailor always got the measurement of her chest wrong on purpose, which he wonât complain about.Â
Her bright red hair contrasts with how the black makes her skin look paler, and her eye colour deeper.
âThey shouldnât call you the Maiden herself anymoreâ Aemond murmurs softly, walking closer to her, still holding Daerion in his arms. âYou are like the mother herself. Like the Goddess Syrax of Old Valyria. Beautiful, strong⊠so alluringâŠâ
âYou never seem to run out of complimentsâ her hands move to grab her rings, and the one he likes the most is the sapphire one, just to symbolise her marriage to him.Â
âNever, more so if a goddess like you is my wife. All mineâŠâ
âMy prince, my lady.â Itâs a Kings guard who interrupts. âSupper is ready, and Queen Alicent asks for you both to arrive earlierâŠâ
âHmâ Aemond says, leaving Daerion in the wet nurseâs arms.
âThank you, ser Willisâ the knight smiles at his wife before walking to wait outside the door.
He rolls his eye as he leans to kiss his sonâs forehead, caressing his chubby cheek and he smiles fondly at his sight. The little freckles he has that he inherited from his mother, something that Aemond loved. Yet remembering how unnecessary kind his wife is⊠annoys him.
Kindness and sweetness only helped to enhance her beauty and popularity, and he also loved that. She was beautiful, perfect in any way, tied to a One-Eyed maimed monster, like him. All he could offer to you, that it was worthy, was the luxuries of the royalty, all the kids you want and his unconditional love. He was at your mercy.
He has one eye, but he is not blind. Any man here on the keep, would pull their breeches down if his wife asked so. They would even cut their own throats for her mere delight, and Aemond would be one of them.Â
âGoodbye, my sweet loveâ the sweet motherly tone makes little Daerion squeal happily, extending his little arms for his mother. She kisses both his hands, later to wave to him as they leave the room, arms interlocked.
Aemond always bites his tongue when his lady wife is kind to men. He hates it, yet he knows she does it for the kindness of her heart, and not any ulterior motives.
He was smitten for her, moving the chair for her to sit, and helping her, her dress not getting stuck anywhere or her headpiece, and only then, he sat on his own seat at peace.
âI heard they might have some gooseâ she murmurs to him, as the room fills. Her fingers caress his arm, and he hears her every word. âIâd eat it all if I could, you knowâ she teases.
âMhm.â Aemond murmurs. Even if he is besotted, his facade is still the same; stoic, cold, distant. Yet to her, his gaze was always loving.
âI would only share it with youâ she states proudly, leaning to give him a peck on the lips, before standing up once the King is brought to the room.
As he stands, he doesnât miss how his uncle watches her. Aemond might not know the man personally, but he knew the look of desire in a manâs face. Much more when they looked at herÂ
The supper is mostly⊠tense, and awkward. But Lady Tully is charming to everyone and even toasts as well for Baela and Rhaena in their betrothal, congratulating them and speaking nothing but wonders about her own married life, making Aemond wear the slightest, yet most smug smirk on his face.
âAmazingâ she says, with her mouth full as she eats the goose, and Aemond nods, a hand rubbing her back so she doesnât choke for eating so quickly. âHere, my loveâ she says, extending the fork with a bit of the goose that she adores so much.Â
Aemond eats shamelessly, enjoying the taste as he nods softly, approving, which makes her smile. His hand resting on the back of her chair, as he drank his wine quietly, watching his sister and nephew go to dance together. He is highly unaware of the prying eyes that watch them both.
Helaena and Jacaerysâ giggles and the movement of her dress is enough for lady Tully to watch curiously. Her husband was not one for dances, as he had not a good perception of objects with one eye. She never pressured him, and accepted the fact.Â
She always would say how Daerion once he would be tall enough to walk, sheâd dance with her son all the songs and dances, and Aemond approved that idea.Â
âLady Tullyâ It was Daemon Targaryenâs deep voice, and she looks at him a bit surprised, leaving her fork on the table as she covers her mouth, her hand unconsciously fetching wine, which Aemond hands her his.Â
âPrince Daemonâ her melodic voice is a bit confused, and more so when the uncle of her husband extends his hand. The green fabrics from his suit are deep, yet he still wore dragon details on it, and he looked smug about it.
She turns to watch Aemond, his jaw tensing as he looks at Daemon. And he has to physically stop himself from cutting his uncleâs throat when his wife walks with him to join Helaena and the bastard. Aegon and he share a look, both upset and annoyed, as their wives are so freely dancing with other men.Â
Aemond watches her beautiful face, frowning as Daemon talks about something, whispering it closely so no one else hears it. His grip on the edge of his seat is strong; knucklesâ turning white as his jaw is tense, not looking pleased at all. And then, he hears her warm laugh, giggling at what he said, as her whole face brightened up.
Once they serve the pig in front of him and hear the little bastard giggles, it is enough to send him through a fit of rage.Â
He literally drags his wife by the arm after everything went downhill, after saying that stupid toast, after the Velaryonâs boys attempt to defend themselves (very badly) and both her husband and her good brother humiliate them.
âDancing with himâ Aemond murmurs, walking to their shared chambers, not minding seeing the servants stop and look at them both. âAccepting it, and giggling to his jokes as he shamelessly flirts with youâÂ
âIt was politeness...â her voice is weak when protesting.
âDid he mocked me for having only one eye?â He asks roughly. âDid he told you how beautiful your are and how full your breasts are?â
She opens her mouth a bit taken aback by his lewds remarks. âI am dutiful to what itâs expected of me. I wouldn't have allowed him to mock youâ
âYou shouldâŠâ
âMy familyâs words are Family. Duty. Honour. And you know I care for that very deeply.â she says as she tries to keep up with his long steps âAnd I did just what was askedâŠâ
âYou are mineâ he states, walking inside his chambers as his grip does nothing but become stronger. âMy wife and you are⊠putting yourself in display for my uncle, laughing at his flirting. I know your family words are important for you, but this is⊠beyond thatâ
Perhaps it was her confused eyes or her angelic face, but he loosened up his grip yet he kept talking.Â
âHe wanted you! To have you below him and fuck you like a⊠wench or⊠or some kind ofâŠâ
âI knowâÂ
Aemond turns drastically, eye twitching at his wife's words.
âYou knew?â
âIt was being cordial. It was duty. To amend broken tiesâŠâ
âI will break and burn and turn into ashes any ties from you to himâ he says exasperated, insane with jealousy. His eye is wide, twitching in rage as he cannot believe this. She was his wife.Â
Seeing Daemonâs hand grip on her hip, almost groping her, made him insane. Because he knew that Lady Tully, beautiful as the Maiden, a beloved goddess amongst the poor and rich, could do so much better than him. Yet, she still chooses him.
âGet nakedâ he says simply.
âWhat?â
âYou heard me just right. Get. Naked.â He says again, not wanting a negative.Â
Her whine is endearing, as she starts taking off little by little. Her gown, the diminutive buttons at the back, her collar, and her hellish headpiece.
âLet meâ he grumbles as he helps her take off the headpiece, tossing it aside more carefully.
She is possibly the most beautiful when she is naked. Round breasts, even fuller thanks to lactating, and her body was tempting enough to anyone.Â
âUndress meâ he says instead. He took delight when she was the one serving him, in this way. He loved to see her desperation, her eagerness for him. His jerkin is out in no time, and she kneels to undo his breeches.
Because she had an angelic face, but it was only he who knew how obsessed she was with his cock. She could spend hours lying on the bed, sucking his cock as she rested her head on his abdomen as Aemond read. She wouldnât even suck him off properly, his wife would only suck the tip, give kitten licks, and lazily press some kisses. During hours and hours.Â
âI forbid you to speak to any one of them. Ever againâÂ
Confused eyes turned up to look at him, as the careful hands undid his breeches, almost a bit eagerly. âForbid?â
âHm. Itâs what I said, is it not?â He says, narrowing his eye as if asking to be defied.Â
âBut itâs madâ she protests, frowning. âI promised Jace and Baela a tour in the gardens, and it would be impolite if I didnât spoke-â
âToo badâ his voice cuts the conversation, and he is not leaving it up for conversation.Â
âYou are being irrational...â
âAnd you are being a fucking bratâ he spats, grabbing her chin as he bites his lower lip. âIâll show you how irrational I can getâ
Her eyes watched him, almost too innocent for her own good. It made him hard; he could feel his cock stirring on his untied breeches.Â
âFucking slut, giving yourself to other menâ his tone is harsh, but by the way her knees move, to accommodate the weight as he grips her chin, he knows that she is aroused. So is he.
Lady Tully was beautiful, and a box of surprises with everything, he realised with time. He had everyone trapped under her charms, and kept her secrets very private. And he loved it.
âWhore.â His hand leaves her chin, only to move it to slap her across the face.Â
She gasps, her face turned. It wasnât harsh, yet the sting was burning on her skin, as she placed a hand on her cheek. To foreign eyes, he just slapped his wife. But he has done it before, to her request. Aemond knew that if his wife was enraged by that, he would have been beaten over and over, because she was kind, but didnât stand for people dishonouring her.Â
Aemond, more gently places his hand back on her chin, pulling it so she can look at him. âYou will learn your placeâ Aemond says, as she looks up at him, with those meek eyes of hers. He loved her eyes. âOpen your mouthâ
 He leaned down, his mouth opening over hers, so near that she could feel his hot breath. His hand goes to wrap the bright red hair of hers, and his firm grip got her head secured.Â
Perhaps Aemond would kiss those perfect lips, yet he pulled back and released a strand of saliva directly into her waiting mouth. Aemondâs fingers tightened the grip in her hair, as his other hand came up to wipe away the excess of spit.Â
âThere is my good girlâ he murmurs, looking at her. âMhm. Iâm going to teach you a lessonâÂ
Aemond lifts his wife to her feet as if she weighs nothing, his grip on her hair almost dragging her to the bed, forcefully as he heard her little whines. He had a moment or two to decide which position suited best, for then to grab her hips and guide her to be on her hands and knees. He grabs the long red hair once again, angling her head to the side, because Aemond needed to see her face the same way he needed air.
She was soaking wet, and that is a satisfaction for her husband. Aemond accommodated behind her, watching her body as he positioned his cock at her entrance.
 âSuch a sweet little cuntâ he growls, his eye flashing with lust and desire as he thrusts into her from behind, in one swift motion.Â
Her whimpers and pants are loud, as she grips on the sheets as her back is arched. She was desperate to be filled and fucked, not something unusual. The unusual thing was that⊠nothing happened.
âAemondâ She whines, moving her head to watch him from above her shoulder. She had that desperate, pitiful appearance that he loved.
âYes, my love?â He asks almost nonchalantly, watching her ass, and how his cock is fully sank inside herÂ
She can barely think straight as his dick is deep inside her, throbbing in her walls as she just needs him to start fucking her. âEh⊠move?â
âI donât think soâ he murmurs, his hand moving to caress her ass to his liking. âYouâll have to fuck yourself on my cockâ His wife opens her mouth, confused as her eyebrows frown in hesitation. âShow me how much you need meâ he says simply, he was fucking teasing her. âHow much you need my cockâ
Feeling the thick length of Aemondâs cock inside her, she accommodates on her hands, slowly moving away just to sink down onto his cock again. Her slick walls gripping him tightly as she impales herself on his thick cock.Â
âAemond⊠Fu-uck, you feel⊠oh, yesâŠâ She whimpers, and her voice is filled with pleasure as her pussy starts getting pounded as she liked so much. If Lady Tully liked something in life, was probably getting fucked until her mind is mush. Â
Her hips start moving on their own accord, as she grips on the sheets, trying to keep a stable posture to move her hips better, as her moans are obscenely loud, trying to get his cock deeper and deeper. Aemond leaves a groan, watching how she sinks down on his cock, and it is an image that would make any man cum in seconds. He truly was the luckiest man ever.Â
He feels the fire in his stomach tighten, as her moans grew more and more delighted to the feeling of his cock pounding into her. At first, she had thought of it as promiscuous, and asked the maiden for forgiveness, but gods damn her if it wasnât the best thing in life to get a good fuck from the love of her life.
âSo responsive when getting a cock in your needy pussyâ Aemond mutters, as one of his hands raises to spank her ass, the sharp slap only serves for the sounds coming out of her mouth to increase, and he spanks her again, and again, and again, to his own amusement and delight.Â
âPlease, AemondâŠâÂ
âYou just love misbehaving with me, because you know I will put you in your placeâ he says, moving forward to her body to grip his hair with his right hand, his left goes right next to her hand gripping the sheets to hold his weight. âBecause you are a needy whoreâ he states, gripping her hair as she nods forcefully.Â
âYesâ she says, in that whiny tone of hers. He knows her reactions yet every time they aroused him even more. âYes, pleaseâ
The grip on her hair only serves to help him push her back against his cock, his hips now making the effort to start properly pounding into her cunt as she loved; hard, rough and at a deliciously good pace. Her body is practically numb as he starts to use her body for his own pleasure, just as she loved.
Who would have said that the most beautiful woman on earth loved being used by her husband? Definitely not him. She was the most perfect creature, in any way. Smart, funny, pretty, a good wife and mother. And yet she always craved his cock, like the filthiest whores of Flea Bottom.Â
âLet those bastards hear you, hm?â He asks, as he leans to speak lowly near her ear. âHow itâs your husband who pleases you. Perhaps my uncle will get the notion that you are mine. Only mine. Fucking mine. That fucking dodderer will die by my hand if he ever dares to lay his eyes on youâÂ
The mere thought infuriates him, making his hips slam into her harder and more feral. Rutting into her cunt in an animalistic pace as he has to clench his jaw in rage. His hand on her hair and the other on her waist, he groans at the feeling of her soaking cunt.Â
The sobs he hears as his cock keeps on pounding into her sweet spot, makes him smug enough, and even more aroused. His sweet lady wife, so prone to cry when she had too much pleasure when she got overwhelmed with lust.Â
âPlease, pleaseâŠâ the round of pleas comes up with her tears, and Aemond moans, shamelessly, as he was so close. âI canât t-take i-it⊠anymo-oreâÂ
âOh, you willâ he says through gritted teeth as he lets go of her hair, only for his other hand to go to her shoulder to help her get his dick deeper. âI will breed you. Cum so deep that my seed takes root, and everyone will know who you belong to.âÂ
Her nods between sobs, pleas and trembling legs help him pound in feral thrusts into her, feeling her cunt already milking him, inner walls attempting to squeeze his dick inside and never let it go.
âCum for me, my loveâ he murmurs, still fucking her deep and nice how she likes it. âMy beautiful wifeâ he murmurs, besotted by her as she cries, her tears rolling down her rosy cheeks with little freckles that he adored.Â
The little spasms of her body, her wails and the way her cunt squeezes him, itâs enough to drive him to the edge, holding her body down into his cock as he moans loudly, rolling his eye back in pleasure as he cums hard. She whimpers, whining a bit as his seed just keeps on filling her, his balls tensing up as his grip will probably leave her delicate skin with red marks.
He is caring afterwards, as he cleans her with a towel, or when he places her in bed and covers her, lying by her side each time as she snuggles to him.
âYou have to knowââ she says softly, her fingers tracing circles on his chest. âYou are hot when jealousâ
Aemond huffs, grumbling about it a bit as he seems reluctant. It amuses her.
âYou always find me hot, I could be⊠Killing a chicken and you would be leakingâ
âGet on my place for a moment, please, just imagine how your muscles would flexâ she says dead serious and he rolls his eye amused, as the corners of his lips gives him away.
The fixation on his hair would be a problem if he didnât love her so much. Aemond allows his lady Tully to braid it as they talk in bed.Â
âI didnât really mean itâ he says softly.Â
âHm?â She asks curious, her fingers working on a single small braid on his hair.
âYou can talk to themâ he says through gritted teeth. âJust-... not too muchâ
Her little laugh warms his heart. âVery wellâ she says amused. âFor each sentence I say to them, I will suck youâ
âI retract myself, talk to them very much, all you likeâ he says, and it has her giggling. âYou know I love youâŠâ he says; as it comes into his view her concentrated face, her tongue coming out of her pink lips as she was focused. He could see the freckles that he so adored, and her pretty eyes. How he loved her.
âYou know I love you moreâŠâ she says fixing his braid to stick to his hair. Her mouth forms a pleased smile as she sits, as she inspects her work. âYes. Seems pretty niceâ
He could feel the hair strand tight, and he moved his hand to touch his head. âWhat in the Seven Hells you did to my hair, woman?âÂ
She looks very pleased as she giggles, her body accommodating against his chest as she shrugs innocently, as he keeps on playfully trying to decipher what his wife did to his hair.Â
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àŒ jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader.
SYNOPSIS: as lady-in-waiting to rhaenyra targaryen, you find that her eldest son, jacaerys, is the only true friend and comfort you have amidst a brewing war that threatens to tear the realm apart.
note: jacaerys is nineteen, reader is eighteen.
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{ FORMAT: one shot â requested.
{ WORD COUNT: 11.5K (this is a long one, not sorry!)
{ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), friends to lovers, inexperience from both reader & jace, loss of virginity (mutual), first time sexual experiences, sexual tension, p in v sex (unprotected), missionary position, lots of kissing and sweeter antics, slight risk of getting caught, oral sex (fem!receiving), handjob, fingering, hair pulling kink, brief overstimulation, tiddy sucking, this whole thing is soft & sweet smut, nothing disgusting here, jacaerys is the epitome of a perfect lover :))
{ AUTHORâS NOTE: I am lowkey transitioning into becoming a Jace girl, I absolutely love him and Iâm really enjoying where his character is going! This was a request from an anon user who wanted something freeform! I hope you all enjoy it, thanks so much for all of the recent love & support for my work! It makes me so happy! â€ïž
đđđđđ đđđđđđ đđđđđđđđ đđđđ đđđđđđ, harkened in from the gentle roll of the tides. Saltwater and dampened rock filled your nostrils, aided by the fluttering breeze as it danced across the obsidian cliffs of Dragonstone.
The castle stood the testament of time, a monolith to the rule of the Targaryens. It loomed overhead, less frightening in the lighter hours, blanketed by glittering rays of sunlight. A cloudless day â good for sailing, you thought, as vessels ushered in goods to the shoddy harbor below.
Beneath the vibrancy of a cloudless sky, you could see the shadow of a dragon soaring overhead â the Princess Rhaenys, from the horned shape above. You cupped your hand around your eyes, squinting to see, constantly mesmerized by such creatures.
In your fantastical dreams, you flew upon the back of a dragon, letting the wind scrape across your visage, feeling the weight of something so powerful beneath you. Of course, you were neither Targaryen nor Velaryon â possessing a dragon wouldnât be in the cards for you, and perhaps that was a good thing.
As much as you enjoyed the beauty of Dragonstone, you much preferred the outdoors. The weather was splendid, and you took small victories wherever possible. With war on the horizon between your Queen Rhaenyra and her usurper brother, any chance at happiness was worth chasing after and holding onto, while you could.
House Celtigar had bent the knee to Rhaenyra, and your father sat at her council. You were made to be a lady-in-waiting, much your initial disdain. The station you held wouldâve been considered a great honor to most young women, but you were inclined to be out in the ocean or on the back of a horse.
Now, you found enjoyment in it, wherever you could.
Oceanic air filled your lungs in a singular inhale, tinged with a saltwater sting. You stood near one of the many stone terraces lining the lengthy walkway to the castleâs entrance, accompanied by Joffrey. The boy had become your greatest joy amidst the brewing chaos, and you were rather grateful for it.
âWould you like to see the ocean, little Prince?â You held the boyâs hand, stooping down to wrap your arms beneath him, standing him up along the cobbled bannister. Joffreyâs laughter could brighten a whole room, and it did â it certainly lifted your spirits.
âWhen will I be able to ride a dragon?â He questioned, pointing towards the shape of Meleys in the sky. Joffrey was rather inquisitive â a sharp mind, one that would become a great leader someday.
You were unsure of how to answer such a question. Tyraxes was young and still small, just like Joffrey. âWhenever you grow up,â You hummed, a smile playing at either corner of your mouth. âYou must be as tall as your brother, first.â
Joffrey toyed with the wooden dragon clutched between his hands, gaze falling toward the ground. âLuke wasnât much taller.â He mumbled, and it nearly crushed your heart completely to hear the confusion and despair in a childâs voice.
Youth knew more than most, and in the mind of a child, something heinous could appear innocent, or something tragic was beyond their comprehension. Joffrey knew that Luke was gone â he wasnât coming back. Silence drifted between the both of you, and you found it difficult to change the subject from Lucerys to something lighthearted.
âI miss him.â Joffreyâs sweet voice rang out like the pealing of bells, crystal-clear and downtrodden. You turned him around within your grasp, keeping your hands slotted underneath his arms to ground him. His eyes swam with unshed tears, prompting you to bring him into your embrace.
âItâs alright, my Prince. Heâs still here,â You whispered, hugging the boy as tightly as you could. It was enough to rip at your heartstrings, tear you asunder as melancholy began to eat you alive. The fate of Lucerys was a tragic one â unfair and unwarranted, and now, a catalyst for destruction between kin. âWe will remember him.â
From afar, Jacaerys observed you and his brother, standing along the ramparts with a palm atop the pommel of his shortsword. The emotional turmoil he continued to feel in regards to Lucerys happened to swell the moment he saw Joffrey clinging onto you â and he knew.
Wisps of a tempered breeze stirred his curled tresses, drifting across his regalia as it caught against his cloak. After the death of his brother, he had come out to the ramparts nearly every night, to sob and to curse the world, to pray to any God that would listen â return Lucerys, bring him home. He had lost count, and in turn, lost a bit of faith.
Remaining optimistic in the face of unavoidable danger was a difficult thing â fear had gripped him once, but no longer. He knew that the only time a man could be brave was in situations like these, where terror stared him in the face and dared him to submit.
Many still referred to him as a mere boy, with little experience and no real understanding of the world and its cruelty. Jacaerys had shed the raiment of boyhood the night he flew blindly into the darkness in the name of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen.
With the man born, he knew that whatever would come next, he was prepared to face such challenges head-on. Brazenness was not in his nature, but he had learned to adopt stoicism when it mattered most. It was easy to shed the facade around his family, and around you.
His friendship with you was a calm within the storm, a lull in the tempestuous hurricane you were all trapped within. You now had as much stake in this game as he did â your father served on Rhaenyraâs council with Celtigar bannerman pledging to fight in the war to come, and you served as his motherâs lady-in-waiting.
Your blossoming bond was a great comfort, and the tender way in which you cared for Joffrey was a wonderful thing. You had a soft heart â a good heart, and that was something rare to come by. The two of you were both of a similar feather, and the admiration he held for you only seemed to grow stronger each day.
The word friendship often tormented him, on days where you wore beautiful gowns and stood beside his mother, or whenever you smiled. It tormented him when you held Joffrey within your arms and protected him just as fiercely as Rhaenyra would.
Honor demanded that he simply remain just that â a friend, but Jacaerys found himself smitten with you in a way that transcended propriety. To cross that line, especially with you, invited the disdain of his mother and the ire of your father, amongst other things.
Betrothal would be upon him soon enough, likely with a young maiden from the Vale or the Reach to secure an alliance, but it left a sour taste within his mouth. He had little desire to be with anyone else when you were right there.
Jacaerys steeled himself, abandoning his whimsical line of thinking in regards to you. It was a foolâs errand, and he couldnât afford to be a fool. He stepped closer, the crunch of stone resonating underneath his boots as he approached you and Joffrey.
âMy Lady,â Jacaerysâs tone was amiable, like the comforting lick of a warm hearth. His gaze flickered toward Joffrey, bemused with his brotherâs antics as you balanced him along the bannister. âWhat are you doing up there?â He asked, playful in the presence of his little brother.
âFlying,â Joffreyâs head lifted from your shoulder, eyes sparkling with mischief. You happened to carry him in such a way that he called it flying â and he was asking you to do it again. âFlying!â
With a giggle, you picked the boy up, swinging him up enough to let him get some air. His melancholy turned to jovial laughter as you soared him over to Jacaerys, who was more than happy to pick him up. Joffrey clung to Jace, hugging his brother with all of his strength.
âYou are getting too big to fly,â Jace mused, holding Joffrey in one arm as he motioned for you to accompany him. His tousled curls and amicable smile sent your heart fluttering as it had many times before. It wasnât subtle, your liking of Jacaerys, but you understood the nature of your affections. âBig enough for Tyraxes, soon.â
Jacaerys was perfect, with all of the hallmarks of what a true King should be. He was gentle and eloquent, honed with a blade, learned â and above all, he was kind. The rage that plagued him now was justified, and it pained you to see him become coiled with anger, but you understood why.
As Joffrey regaled the two of you with tales of childlike wonder, soaring his toy dragon around Jaceâs head, Jacaerys seemed inclined to converse with you regardless. âI always know where to look, whenever I need to see you.â He mused, walking alongside you as you made your way up the ramparts.
âIs that so?â You chuckled, head canting to one side. âWhat did you need to see me for, your Grace?â It was a force of habit â he was the heir to the Iron Throne, after all. Jacaerys regarded you with a brief laugh, knowing that formalities were often abandoned whenever the two of you were together.
âDo I need a reason?â Jacaerys mused, voice light and inviting. The crash of the tide upon the beach provided a rather serene ambience, accompanied by the calling of gulls as they circled the bay.
You shook your head, skirts gathered in one hand as you narrowly avoided an upturned plate of stone. âOf course not,â You hesitated, gaze sparkling as your nose wrinkled in mild amusement. âJacaerys.â You ensured to exaggerate his name, allowing for your conversation to become personal.
At the end of the ramparts, a flock of crimson-clad handmaidens awaited your return. It was likely that they were waiting for you to hand Joffrey over, much to your dismay. The black-headed boy looked to you as you neared the end of your walk.
âI donât want to go,â He protested, reaching for you as you stepped forward, taking a hold of his hand. âWhen can we fly again?â Joffrey asked, lower lip jutting out in a rather innocuous pout. He leaned forward, partially out of Jaceâs grasp to give you a hug.
âTomorrow, my Prince. I will let you fly as much as youâd like.â You assured him, reciprocating his hug with one of your own, with all of the warmth one could muster. It was motherly in-nature, and you watched as Jacaerys planted him onto solid ground.
Joffrey took the outstretched hand of a handmaiden, glancing back at you and Jacaerys before they disappeared behind the castleâs massive gates. It always hurt you to leave him, but you knew that tomorrow would come swiftly. A begrudging sigh escaped you before you looked at Jacaerys, countenance somber.
Jace knew what you were about to say â something about Lucerys. The gaping wound left within his heart was barely healed, still oozing with pain, but he was making every effort to mend it. You helped â your resolute reassurance and shoulder to lean on, but sometimes, it wasnât enough.
Instead, you reached for Jaceâs forearm, giving it a brief squeeze of comfort. Whatever sentiments he held, you seemed to echo it, leaving it all unspoken. You and Jacaerys had already spoken about it all at-length â sometimes, he had little desire to tear himself open again.
His head hung low, heap of dark curls billowing in the wind. Jacaerysâs jaw tightened for a brief moment, and he imagined plunging his sword into Aemond Targaryenâs other eye â and then it passed, just as quickly as it had appeared.
A forlorn silence settled between the both of you, one that was born out of mutual understanding and empathy. Jace went quiet often, and you were content to sit in it for as long as he pleased. Instead, you stepped toward the bannister, palms planting themselves atop the stone as you gazed out toward the land surrounding Dragonstone.
âYou are good with him,â Jacaerys broke the silence, deliberately stepping towards you as he stood by your side. Joffrey and his half-brothers, Aegon and Viserys, were all he had left. He would die for them if he had to. âHe talks about you often.â
An exuberant smile crept onto your features, one of a sweet fondness in regards to Joffrey. âHe is a sweet boy â very sharp-witted, though. I would imagine he will grow to be very wise.â You replied, idly tracing your fingers around some of the rocks socketed into the bannister.
âI remember the day he was born,â Jacaerys recalled, remembering the day that his mother, pale skin glistening with sweat, had wobbled into the drawing room, a newborn Joffrey in her arms. âIt was a beautiful day, and Ser Harwin was there, and Ser Laenor âŠâ He trailed off, recalling the way that Lucerys had begged to hold his younger brother.
The topic of both Laenor and Harwin were bitter ones â both men playing the role of father. Jacaerys loved them both, as any son would. Another gust of saltwater mist brushed along the ramparts, dusting your cheeks with wisps of moist air.
Wordlessly, you reached for Jaceâs arm, looping yours around him as you let him lean against you for support. As much as Jacaerys insisted that he would recover and move on, you ensured him that grieving took time â it came in many shapes and forms.
Jaceâs smile was wistful and threadbare, made sorrowful by memories of Lucerys. He didnât want to sully the moment with his melancholy, holding his head high as he glanced toward you. You were not looking, but it allowed him a moment of appreciation and admiration.
Your beauty was unparalleled, your features delicate and smile like the warmth of a summer sunshine. The way in which you carried yourself was of a kindly disposition, made to be nurturing and helpful instead of imposing. Admittedly, you took his breath away â the feeling was a constant one.
Sunlight sparkled across your countenance, gaze soothing and full of empathy. The way in which you grasped his arm, kept yourself tucked away within his side, it invoked feelings of protectiveness â and newfound affection.
A dragonâs shrill cry reverberated throughout the skies, prompting Jacaerys to immediately look ahead. It was the familiar shriek of Vermax, his bonded dragon, who had grown exponentially. He was larger than Moondancer, with olive-colored scales and orange fins, eyes the color of a burnished gold.
âMÄzigon, Vermax!â Jacaerys called, gaining the attention of his dragon as it began to approach, causing your heart to gallop within your chest. He looked at you with a hint of amusement, head canting to one side. âWould you like to see him?â Jace inquired, moving along the wall.
As majestic as dragons were, the wonder within your eyes had quickly shifted to wariness as it landed along the ramparts, rocks scraping underneath its talons. Vermax was much larger when in close proximity than he was flying overhead. âHe is wonderful, Jace. Though, it is best if I keep my distance. He might not like me.â
Jacaerys laughed, amber-brown eyes sparkling with mirth. âMight not like you?â He mused, knowing that such a thought was outlandish. If he liked you, then Vermax most certainly would. A dragon could always pick apart friend from foe, and you were as far from an enemy as one could be.
âYes, what â Jacaerys, that is a perfectly reasonable thing to say,â You countered, flustered by Jaceâs reaction to your skepticism. His smile was cheery and heartfelt as he stared at you, and then offered his hand. âI do not think that this is a good idea.â A soft utterance emerged from under your breath.
âTrust me.â His tone softened exponentially, shifting from playful to gentle, reassuring. You hesitated before taking a hold of his hand, and Jacaerys nearly brushed his thumb across your knuckles out of sheer instinct. Whatever thoughts he had, he pushed them to the far recesses of his mind.
You trusted Jacaerys more than most, prompting you to nod as he ushered you closer to Vermax. His grasp was tender, as to not frighten you, which only made your heart flutter with affection. The dragon bristled and made a series of noises, some more serpentine than others.
Vermax lowered his head, pushing closer towards his rider as the dragon bowed to Jacaerys. You were close enough to feel the waves of heat wafting from his breath, close enough to outstretch your arm and feel his scales beneath your palm.
The scent of brimstone and dragonscale lingered upon Vermax, like a crackling fire and smoke. You watched with bated breath as Jaceâs palm moved to Vermaxâs snout, digits tracing along the olive-hued scales, and down toward his jaw. âSagon iÄdrosa,â Jace murmured, stepping closer to his dragon. âSÈłz.â
High Valyrian was an exquisite language, a beautiful symphony from an ancient era. Jacaerys had become proficient in such a tongue, and the way he spoke it had you mesmerized. With a gentle smile, he still held your hand, gesturing toward Vermax.
âWhat are you saying to him?â You inquired, losing some of your fear. It gradually waned the closer Jacaerys had inched you toward the dragon, who showed no ill will towards you at all. Instead, Vermaxâs burnished hues glimmered with intrigue â you were a familiar scent, emblazoned upon Jace, but not a familiar face.
âI told him to be still for you,â Jacaerys replied, fingers flexing around your own as he carefully guided you toward Vermaxâs neck, where the scales began to flare and thicken. Olive turned to emerald in some places, verdant shades clashing together. âPlace your hand here.â
Your breath hitched within your throat as Jace became in close proximity to you, closer than heâd been before. His grasp was a tender one, placing your palm atop the dragonâs throat. Warmth crept along the length of your spine, filling your belly with an eruption of butterflies.
You made the mistake of glancing at Jacaerys for the briefest moment, able to spot the rosy flush of color within his visage and the gleam within his stare. As soon as youâd made contact, he happened to glance away, making a soft noise as it stirred within his throat.
Vermax chortled, the dragonâs attention fixated upon you as you brushed your fingers across his scales. Jace had dropped your hand, realizing the sliver of space between you both as he stepped aside, content to observe you with his dragon.
It was your enchanting laughter that lifted his spirits, the gentle way in which you stroked across Vermaxâs neck and shoulder. âHe is beautiful,â You hummed, countenance bright with a joyous radiance as you looked at Jacaerys once more. The gap between you had grown, much to your dismay. âHow do you say that in High Valyrian?â
Jace hesitated, lips parting just slightly. His heart nearly skipped a beat when you smiled at him, expectant and awaiting his answer. He became so easily distracted in your presence, and it was somewhat vexing to behold. âGevie,â He replied, briefly clearing his throat. âGevie means beautiful, in High Valyrian.â
With a soft hum, you looked to Vermax, your grin toothy and amused. âGevie, Vermax.â You spoke clearly, but the dragon did not seem to understand what you said â it wasnât a command. Instead, he let out a series of reptilian noises, nostrils flaring with snort, almost like that of a horse.
Vermaxâs lack of reaction made you frown, but Jacaerys appeared amused by it, at least. âGevie isnât a command,â He mused, head canting to one side. âYour High Valyrian needs improvement.â His tone was jocular, teasing â it made your heart stir within your chest.
âFortunately, I have the perfect teacher standing before me.â You countered with a giggle, noticing the way in which a shade of pink settled into his features. Jacaerys was beautiful and handsome, but his flustered behavior only made him more perfect to you.
The dragon shook its head, seeking the embrace of his rider before he began to take flight. A massive gust of wind from the flap of his wings nearly knocked you down, causing you to crouch and grip the stone of the ramparts.
Jacaerys smiled, watching as Vermax ascended, taking to the skies above Dragonstone once more. You watched with a semblance of awe, slowly rising to your feet as the dragon became a mere specter amidst the cloudless sky. He did not stray too far, circling around with the likes of Moondancer and Syrax.
âSomeday, I will take you flying with me,â Jace suggested, nose wrinkling slightly at your bewildered expression. âI would keep you safe.â He reassured you before words could emerge from your mouth, his chuckle amicable as he led you back toward the gates of Dragonstone.
âI trust you, but flying?â To see the world from such great heights sounded wonderful, but you feared the fall â and you feared the unknown of it all even more. âThat might take more convincing than this did.â You mused, walking alongside him as the gates became closer.
A huff escaped him, hand dropping from the pommel of his shortsword to his side, a symbol of letting his guard down. A comfortable silence settled between the both of you, occasionally accompanied by a brief bout of laughter or tender smiles.
As the gates loomed over the both of you, Jacaerys hesitated, deliberating on what to say next. There were so many things he wanted to say to you â where did he begin? The nerves of first affection grabbed hold of him, but he remained resistant, wanting nothing more than to tell you how much you meant to him.
âPerhaps an exchange is in-order,â Jacaerys began, shifting his weight from one foot to the next. âYou come flying with me, and I will teach you High Valyrian.â He mused, smothering his grin at your expression. You were clearly wary and unimpressed.
âDanger for something that I could learn in the comfort of a book? I think not, your Grace.â With a grin of your own, Jace happened to snicker, his visage invoking an unspoken challenge, albeit playful. âIf I am ever feeling bold and spontaneous, I will inform you as soon as possible.â
Jacaerys hummed, head ducking for just a moment before he met your gaze again, doting and overflowing with a subtle warmth. âThank you for this,â He began, tone heartfelt and genuine. âI would not know what to do if it werenât for your company and comfort. Iâve found it difficult to remain jovial as of late, but itâs rather effortless in your presence.â
His genial compliments made your stomach turn with excitement, and you could soar away. Jacaerys would be an excellent ruler, should he take the Iron Throne â such grace, compassion, and gallantry were true hallmarks of what would make a good King. You felt the familiar, smitten flush dance along your skin.
âOf course, Jace â you never have to ask for it,â Your fingers twisted into the silk of your gown, an outlet for your growing nerves. âYouâve no idea how much your company means to me. We will get through this together, that much I know.â With a brief nod, you felt his stare grow in intensity.
Before he could bear his heart to you on a whim, the gates opened, revealing several Targaryen bannermen and Kingsguard. It was sudden and somewhat jarring, placing the two of you back within reality â in a realm on the brink of war.
âI should return to your mother, I fear Iâve neglected my duties enough today,â You murmured, offering Jace a kindly smile before dropping to curtsy. He seemed starstruck, as if caught within the depths of his own thoughts. âGood afternoon, your Grace.â
Formalities reappeared again, much to his disdain. He loved it when you called him Jace or Jacaerys, or your Grace whenever you teased him. To hear it used in the context of nobility made him feel distant, but he understood. You possessed a strong sense of propriety.
âMy Lady.â Jace replied, watching as you took your leave to rejoin the other handmaidens and guardsmen. Jacaerys cursed himself for not making the most of the moment, but he knew that he could make his own opportunity, forge it if it never came about.
He intended to do just that.
đđđđđđđđđđđ đđ đđđđ đđđ đđđđđđđđ, with braziers dancing across the obsidian interior. Stars sparkled above a clear night sky, dragons dancing above. It was almost like something from a fairytale or a painting, mesmerizing to behold as you gazed up at the scaling ceiling of your bedchambers.
Your quarters were small and homely, befitting of your status as lady-in-waiting. Rhaenyra had ensured that your lodgings and that of your father were enough â more than suitable, really. The feathered mattress you slept upon was made for royalty, you thought.
The constant flicker of candlelight provided a source of warmth as you rolled over within your bed, blankets hauled up beneath your chin. It was too early to fall asleep, too late to do anything of substance.
A knock at your door gave you pause, brows furrowing together as you retrieved your robe, lacing it around the sheer gossamer of your nightgown. Bare feet traveled across the cold stone, until you reached the metal hoop slotted atop mahogany.
With a pull, you opened the door, surprised to find Jacaerys, who had abandoned his traditional Targaryen regalia, hands occupied with a stack of various tomes and scrolls. His mop of dark curls framed his face, and even he seemed just as bewildered as you were.
âJacaerys,â His nightly visits were rather uncommon â in fact, this was only the second time heâd come, the first following Lucerysâs passing. You swallowed the growing lump within your throat, stepping aside to allow him inside of your chambers. âIs everything alright?â
Jace placed the stack of books atop the table that sat amongst small lounge chairs, ensuring to clear his throat before he spoke. âOf course,â He replied, gesturing toward your newfound reading material. âIâve brought you scripts to learn High Valyrian.â
You blinked, touched by such a thoughtful gesture. You smoothed your palms across your robe, stepping forward to inspect the books, many of which appeared ancient and weathered. âYou didnât have to,â You replied, head canting to one side. âMany of these seem important. Are you sure that no one will miss these?â
A brief chuckle escaped him before he shook his head. âThe Maesters might, but theyâve read them a hundred times over, Iâm certain of it. You will find more use.â He replied, retreating toward the threshold of your chambers. Jacaerys wanted to keep his visit brief â visiting a young womanâs quarters in the dead of night was not exactly an intelligent move.
âYouâre leaving so soon?â Your inquiry held a twinge of disappointment, hoping that he would stay and converse with you, at the very least. âJacaerys, I assure you that no one will admonish you if you stay for a few minutes longer.â The softness of your voice enticed him, and he very nearly confessed then and there.
The weight of growing sentiments felt as if they would swallow him whole if he did not speak them into fruition. With the threat of a looming war and the potential for oblivion, Jacaerys was unsure of what gave him pause. The fear of rejection, perhaps? That wasnât it.
It took a moment for you to adjust, and when you did, you noted his own attire â a billowy tunic and dark trousers that happened to make him appear softer in the candlelight. The sharp black and crimson of his houseâs colors made him intimidating and poised, but no longer.
You saw Jacaerys himself, doe-eyed and magnificent.
âI fear what will happen if I stay,â Jacaerys confessed, squaring himself with the door. If he continued to linger in your chambers without restraint or without additional eyes, he knew what would happen â he did not want to sully your honor. âI wonât.â
âJacaerys,â You whispered, brows furrowing together to form a look of confusion and startlement. Out of concern, you stepped closer, abandoning the scripts of High Valyrian now scattered across your table. âWhatâs wrong? I donât understand.â
The inner war he waged within seemed to reflect upon his countenance, as Jacaerys exhaled â it was laced with stress, a heaviness that you struggled to understand. He seemed flustered, not wanting to meet your amiable gaze. âIt is best if I leave it alone.â He replied, taking a hold of your hands. âI would not tarnish your honor.â
That is what he meant.
Something boiled over inside of you, the butterflies and blossoming affection turning into a tidal wave that threatened to swallow you whole. As Jace held your hands, he seemed desperate to convey such a message â whatever he wanted, he could not have.
A brief exhale escaped you before you steeled yourself, thumbs brushing across his knuckles, over the veins of his hands. âYou wouldnât tarnish it,â You whispered, stomach churning with molten heat. âI know that you wouldnât, Jace. I trust you the most.â
Jacaerys felt the stirring within his chest, the first inkling of arousal settling into his very bones. It was somewhat foreign â a new feeling, but exciting and exhilarating. âI would never hurt you,â He insisted, and you believed him wholeheartedly. âWhat I feel for you, I do not wish to feel this way with anyone else.â
If you couldâve collapsed then and there, you wouldâve â you thought it would happen, with the way your knees rattled together beneath your nightgown. The beating of your heart accelerated into a violent crescendo, and then you felt the rush â the love you had for him, desire, admiration, neediness.
A tenuous silence drifted between you both, the tension thick enough to be sliced with a blade. Jacaerys had inched closer without thinking, able to peer down into your eyes, swirling with affection and bewilderment. âIf I told you I felt the same?â Your voice barely rose above a whisper.
Deliberately, Jacaerys released one of your hands, allowing his palm to fully envelop your face, the pad of his thumb caressing your cheekbone. âI would never difile your virtue, or take it for granted. You must tell me if this is something you want.â He insisted, jaw tightening as he anxiously awaited your answer.
You knew that he wouldnât â Jacaerys Velaryon was the most honorable man you knew, one that would never lay a finger upon you unless you consented. You couldnât imagine a return to friendship if you happened to reject him â you didnât want to reject him, either.
âI do,â A shudder ran down your spine, bringing a wave of thrill and anticipation with it. âI want this â and I want you, Jacaerys, if youâll have me.â Part of you became nervous, knowing that you had never bedded a man before, but you pushed the thought aside.
âA hundred times over.â Jace uttered, dipping down to press his lips against yours. The kiss was incredibly sweet and delicate, something brief to test the waters as the two of you began to explore uncharted territory. Your hands reached for his chest, flat atop his sternum.
Allowing the kiss to linger, you tilted your head just slightly, enough to permit a sensual progression. He kissed you so sweetly, treated you as if you were precious, something to be worshiped. When he inevitably pulled away, you felt a twinge of nervousness.
âIâve never done anything like this before,â Your confession was a strenuous one, and you hoped that he wouldnât be disappointed by your lack of experience. Most men already had a plethora by the time betrothals and first love emerged. âIs that alright?â
âOf course,â Jacaerys reassured you with a gentle squeeze, brows furrowing together with insistence. He hesitated, somewhat sheepish to admit the very same, but he knew you wouldnât admonish him for it. âI havenât either, if thatâs alright.â He mused, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile.
A sweet bout of laughter escaped you before you nodded several times over, unable to keep from withholding your happiness. âI suppose that this will be quite the learning experience.â You felt his thumb stroke along your jaw, his lips molding themselves to yours in another kiss.
Passion and tension began to mount, a continuous climb of affection, prepared to turn into something fiery. Jacaerys worried that he would disappoint you, or perhaps feel clumsy and awkward, but those were mere insecurities â he knew that you wouldnât hold it against him.
One of his hands dropped, finding the pliant curve of your hip as he sank his digits into you, able to haul you closer, until there was no space left between the two of you. Kissing felt effortless with Jace, despite your inexperience â he was gentle and deliberate, ensuring that he took his time with you above all else.
Your fingers wandered from his chest to his broad shoulders, finding the curls of hair at the nape of his neck. Jacaerys exhaled, a shiver rolling down his spine as you began to gently tug at his tresses. He canted his head slightly, enough to deepen the kiss and hold you close.
It was Jace who slowly broke the kiss, but just enough to speak, warm breath fanning across your face. âMay I take you to bed?â He murmured, tracing across the silky plane of your jaw. His excitement began to grow, heart hammering within his chest.
In such close quarters to one another, you noticed the faint dusting of freckles along the bridge of his nose, spreading just underneath his eyes. You pressed a kiss against the corner of his mouth. âYou may.â Eagerness replaced any nervousness you were experiencing, then and there.
Jacaerys found your hand, twining his digits with your own as the two of you inched toward your bed. It was plush, lined with furs and enough blankets to warm the Seven Kingdoms. He stood at the precipice of a cliff, preparing to dive headfirst â and it felt incredible.
He watched with bated breath, rapturous and enamored as your digits settled along the many ties of your outer robes. You began the sluggish process of untethering each one until the garment loosened, enough for you to shrug it aside and drape it over the chest at the foot of your bed.
Even with the veil of sheer, silky fabric, Jacaerys quietly admired your physique, shapely and beautiful in every way imaginable. âYou are perfect,â Jace uttered, hands coming to settle around your hips, searching for any sign of hesitation on your end. âBeautiful.â He exhaled, feeling you coax him in for another kiss.
Through the slip of silk and gossamer, Jacaerys deftly felt his way along your body, taking his time savoring you. Every curve and dip, every little detail he committed to memory, lost within a sea of you. Your kiss became passionate, and he was more than happy to reciprocate, the intensity burning between you both.
Jace felt your fingers tease the hem of his tunic, enough to elicit a subtle gasp from him. The sensation of your flesh against his caused goosebumps to spread from where your digits brushed against his waist. He released you for a moment, long enough for him to assist you in removing his nightshirt.
A pang of admiration struck at your stomach, breath hitching within your throat. He was pretty â well-muscled for a young man, with sunkissed skin, smatterings of freckles along his shoulders. Jacaerys felt your lips press against the hollow of his throat, warmth fanning out from the simple contact.
âI want to take care of you, if youâll let me.â Jace murmured, insistent on pleasuring you above all else. He knew very little of what ensued between a woman and a man within the confines of their bedchambers outside of the simple act itself, but it was easy to imagine.
Your lips parted, heat sinking into your bones as you reached for his curled tresses, digits slipping through his soft, dark locks. âYesâ, Your voice was barely above a whisper as you coaxed him in for another kiss, one charged with arousal and desire. âI want you, Jace.â
The heady, wanton way in which you spoke his name caused him to shiver, bare chest pressed snugly against your own. Even the veil of silken fabric could not hide your supple frame from him, the peaks of your breasts soft and pliant.
His kiss was so gentle ïżœïżœ it was charged with lust despite its tame nature, not that you minded. You felt his hands fall to your hips, melding into your curves before he began to gather the fabric within his hands. Jacaerys looked to you before continuing, and you gave him a nod to signal your approval.
Silky gossamer slowly crawled up the length of your legs as Jace gathered your gown, sliding it upward. You couldnât fight against the onslaught of molten heat that churned violently within your stomach, shamelessly pooling between your legs.
Jacaerys hesitated, likely thinking of what to do next. He had been educated on what consummation was, the act of making an heir â but there was more to it, more of you to explore. Curiosity consumed him as he placed his palm atop the bare skin of your thigh, using the other to ease you down onto your bed.
He sat beside you, leg to leg as he continued to push your nightgown up toward your hips, skirts gathering around the middle of your thighs. âMay I?â Jaceâs voice seemed to grow husky with arousal, desire burning its way through his veins.
Instead, you gingerly took a hold of his hand, guiding it underneath your gown as you parted your legs enough to allow him unhindered access. He caressed you wherever he could, shuddering when you held the trail of your nightgown in one hand to push it up around your hips.
You nearly squeaked when his palm brushed along your inner thigh, lips parting with a sharp exhale. Jace moved closer, as close as he could as his mouth graced your neck, digits inching toward the slick heat between your legs. When he found it, you let out a simpering whine, reaching for his forearm.
A hushed moan escaped you as two digits trailed across your cunt, exploratory and feather-light. Your hips canted forward into the sensation, desiring more â and Jace obliged, pushing both fingers inward until they slipped past your folds.
âJace,â You whispered, eyes fluttering shut as he continued to pepper strings of sweet kisses along your neck, gown sagging enough to let him kiss your shoulder. âDo not stop, please.â That breathy plea exuded some power over him, and he was enthralled, prepared to do whatever you asked of him.
âIs that alright?â Jacaerys asked, digits becoming a touch more vigorous as he stroked at your slit, surprised at how wet you were. If it were a common thing, he would know what to expect in the future. His thumb grazed your clit, and you gasped.
With a soft hum of approval, you nodded, shifting your legs apart just a little more. âYâYes,â Absentmindedly, your fingers slipped from the taut muscle of his forearm to his hand, the one wedged underneath your gown. âI â Like this.â You instructed him to touch you how you had touched yourself.
Jacaerys watched through a half-lidded stare, beyond entranced with you. You were beautiful â so painfully ethereal that it made him want to kneel before you, a goddess made to be worshiped. You adjusted his fingers, ensuring that his thumb pressed against your clit with continuous pressure.
Despite his nonexistent experience, he was doing wonders for you â he was attentive and willing to learn your body as you saw fit. He was so handsome, lips curling into an affectionate smile before he kissed your jaw, digits continuing from where theyâd left off.
Your palm fell across his thigh, nails beginning to dig themselves into the muscle there as he touched your clit, digits tracing around the rest of your cunt. The candlelight highlighted his features in such perfect detail, the illumination slight.
Reverence seeped into each action, every stroke of his fingers evoking a string of whimpers from you. He was passionate and careful, willing to learn your body better than you. He continued to caress your clit, the sensation sending jolts of electricity throughout your body.
His name became your prayer, devolving into desperate moans and whispered pleas as you rocked your hips into the sensation of his hand. âJacaerys,â You sighed with passion, feeling the stirring within your stomach. Arousal consumed every part of you, just as it did him. âJace.â
The dark-haired Prince let out a soft groan into the hollow of your throat, wanting you more than anything, and the hand you had perched atop his thigh did little to ease the fever. He kissed your neck again, scarlet-faced and beyond eager, whispering sweet nothings in High Valyrian against your skin.
Excitement and the heat of the moment seemed to get to you, as you used one hand to sloppily unlace the leather ties of his trousers. You wanted to touch him too, let him feel exactly how you felt â how he made you feel.
Jace shivered, not objecting, but he wanted to focus on you above all else. âWhat about you?â He asked, feeling his cock twitch with want. The ache he had for you was almost painful, threatening to tear him apart if he couldnât find relief.
âTogether,â You suggested, turning enough to crawl into his lap, much to his delight. Jacaerys held you steady, lips clamoring together in a messy flurry of tongue and adoration. It was the anticipation of youth â the desire and sentiments overrode everything else, made duty disappear. âYou are perfect.â
His brief smile made all of your worry dissipate, fading into mere background noise. Your hands returned to the leather ties of his breeches once more, sluggishly loosening them. Jace steeled himself, a fire burning within his belly as you reached down.
A low, satisfied groan tore past his lips when your hand gently wrapped around his cock, searching his visage for any sign of discomfort. There was none â only desire, lust festering within his gaze. He resumed touching you, digits circling your clit once more.
Within your delicate grasp, his length hardened, your palm finding a careful rhythm. Your hips twitched, rolling into the sensation of his hand. It was heavenly â the way in which he handled you was gallant and gentle. Arousal continued to gather between your thighs, a new and sticky feeling.
Intermingled gasps and groans filled the air, the both of you clinging to one another. Jacaerys leaned forward, mouth seeking yours, the kiss hot and gentle. Between your careful, uncertain strokes along his length and his digits teasing your cunt, the both of you were lost within the throes of passion.
He slipped his other hand underneath your nightgown, with enough leverage to remove it, if he so desired. Jacaerys broke the kiss long enough to ask, chest heaving with heavier breaths. âMay I?â He whispered, voice husky and hoarse with lust.
You nodded, maneuvering your arms over your head as your nightgown slipped to the floor, leaving you bare before Jacaerys. The saltwater breeze which fluttered through your quarters left you shivering, both from the brief chill and anticipation.
The awestruck way in which he stared at you left you hot, body feverish beneath his tempered gaze. He kissed your collarbone, eyes warm and affectionate. âYou are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.â He stated, nearly breathless. His heart was yours â every fiber of his being devoted itself to you.
Smitten beneath his sweetly-spoken compliments, you trailed your fingers throughout his soft curls. The other slyly descended to reach for his cock again, but Jacaerys seemed to place your hand aside. You seemed confused, head canting to one side. âDo you not like it?â
His bemused chuckle filled your chambers, amiable and as warm as a cozy hearth. âOf course I like it,â Jacaerys murmured, kissing along your jaw and neck, holding you as close as he could. âIâd like to focus on you. Thereâs something that I wanted to try, if youâll allow it.â
Surprised, you seemed open to whatever he wanted to try. âAnything you want, you will have. Itâs yours.â You expected him to put you on your knees or turn you on your stomach. Instead, he coaxed you down onto your back, getting you to lay down as he crawled between your parted legs.
His mouth pressed a string of affectionate kisses along your shoulder and collarbone, beginning to dip lower toward the perky swell of your breasts. You squirmed slightly, uncertain of where this would lead to. You trusted Jace to follow his own instinct.
Your back arched when his mouth graced your breast, pressing kisses all around the pliant flesh. A moan escaped you, signaling your pleasure as he wrapped his lips around one of your nipples, gingerly suckling on the pebbled bud.
âJace,â You squeaked, one hand flying to his mountain of dark curls, pushing your fingers through. He touched you in a way that evoked a sense of yearning, as if you were the only woman in the realm. His hand kneaded into your chest, a shiver coursing through him whenever you moaned his name. âPlease.â
Heat simmered through him, a wave of desire that only seemed to grow in intensity, demanding to be extinguished. Your flesh tasted saccharine upon his tongue, but there was something else he wanted to taste. As he kissed your chest, he released his lips from your breast, continuing his descent.
He kissed you everywhere, reverence seeping into each brush of his mouth as he traversed your body. Jacaerys pressed his lips against your stomach, and then to your hips, palms sliding against your thighs.
A sharp exhale escaped you as he peppered a string of kisses along the inside of your thigh, showering you in little pecks of affection before he flattened himself entirely. You swallowed the lump within your throat; the sight of Jaceâs face wedged in between your legs made you shiver, arousal following suit.
Everything was gentle, even the way in which his veined hands gripped the pliant flesh of your thighs to let them rest against his shoulders. He hesitated, allowing you a moment to adjust and steel yourself before he dipped forward, tongue raking hot embers across your cunt.
The singular, experimental stroke of his tongue caused you to shiver, hands curling into fists. If you could melt away into your furs, you wouldâve, feeling his mouth press kisses against your core. âJace,â You whined, attempting to hold still and cease your squirming. âDonât stop.â
It was all the encouragement he truly needed, digits soothingly caressing along your thighs as he began to lap at your cunt, adopting a pace that was a little less sluggish. He nearly groaned when he felt your hand grasp at his curled tresses, sinking in toward the base of his skull.
In the nighttime gloom of Dragonstone, you found warmth and comfort in one another â affections intensified, and whatever bond you had before was now redefined entirely. Jacaerys loved you, he had never been more sure of himself until now, dutifully bringing about your pleasure.
A myriad of soft whimpers and whines escaped you, hand gingerly tugging on Jaceâs hair as he buried his mouth in the apex of your thighs. His tongue vigorously lapped and traced over your core, savoring your taste, committing it to memory. Bathed in moonlight, Jace appeared more ethereal than ever, the muscles flexing within his back.
With slow, eager laps of his tongue, Jacaerys made sure to savor you, letting it flick across your clit. The short, dizzying gasp that tore past your mouth spurred him on, as he pressed another string of kisses against your slit. The continued sensation of your digits carding through his curls made him sigh with elation.
He brought you closer, heart leaping into his throat when you began to writhe beneath him, hips tilting forward into each stroke of his mouth. âYouâre perfect,â Jacaerys whispered, ensuring that you could hear it. Soft utterances of High Valyrian were etched into the flesh of your thigh. âPerfect.â
Blossoming beneath his sweet compliments, your fingers curled against his scalp, unable to lay still as Jace resumed his previous ministrations. The warmth of his tongue left you with a blistering want, stomach churning with a wave of arousal.
As he lapped at your clit again, you whimpered, moaning his name as if to keep his attention there. Jacaerysâs tender expression also bore a great deal of concentration, dark eyes flickering toward you. âThere?â He uttered, hoping that you would guide him to where he needed to be.
Your head bobbed up and down against the furs, flesh beginning to glisten with the first inklings of perspiration. Everything felt feverishly hot, as if you would be turned to ash where you sat. Jacaerys was attentive and loving, following your breathy plea as he pursed his lips around the pearl of your cunt.
Jace shivered at the sounds you made, enticed by each whimper and moan, every twitch of your body. He suckled on the sensitive bundle of nerves, alternating between that and greedy, vigorous laps of his tongue. He let himself be lost within bliss, arousal mounting from pleasuring you.
You reached for his hand, fingers interlocking atop the swell of your hip as he continued to lap at your aching core. He squeezed your hand as a sign of reassurance, buried deep within your sweet cunt, something that he wanted to have again and again.
He was at your mercy, the heir to the Iron Throne, the Prince of Dragonstone â and you hadnât the slightest clue. Jaceâs brow creased in concentration as he focused on what spots made you squirm the most, continuing to dutifully lap at your clit until your knees trembled.
âJace,â A needy moan left you, reverberating within the obsidian confines of your chambers. Arousal rushed through you, molten heat oozing from between your thighs, a nectar as sweet as honey. âIâI think Iâm close.â You groaned, unsure if it was just the throes of ecstasy or reality.
Nevertheless, you were on the verge of reaching your peak, and you didnât want him to stop. Instead, you urged his head forward, fingers laced within his dark curls, right at the nape of his neck. Jacaerys groaned in delight, thoroughly enjoying the way you continued to coax him inward â he happily devoured every drop.
With another barrage of his tongue assaulting your cunt, you whimpered, turning malleable within Jaceâs hands. He knew that you were on the verge, and so he pursed his lips around your clit once more, and that was more than enough.
His name emerged from your lips like a reverent prayer, the only name that you knew in that moment. Your release was hot, like a rush of fire that didnât simmer immediately. The residual sensation lingered, and Jace helped you through it.
Your thighs twitched, absentmindedly attempting to clench together, but Jace held you apart, soothing you with kisses along your thighs. The blissful, contented expression that soon followed was a beautiful one â Jace was shocked to know that he could do that to you, bring you to ruin.
His gallant smile gave you pause as you studied the rosy flush within his features, the glistening sheen of your arousal upon his lips. Jacaerys seemed entirely unphased, basking in your aftermath all the same, his curls tousled and disheveled.
âI didnât hurt you, did I?â Your tone was sheepish, realizing how much youâd tugged at his hair. If it were you, a tender-headed maiden, you wouldâve been batting his hand away. Jaceâs bemused chuckle caused you to duck your head.
Jace disarmed you with a charming, doting smile and a simple look of those earthen-brown eyes of his, and shook his head. âYou could never hurt me,â He replied, his attempt at gentle flirtation. âI worry more for you.â His confession was soft-spoken.
The act of consummation was not intended to be a comfortable one â for a woman, at least. Jacaerys knew to broach this with care, to make sure that you were well enough before all else. He inched forward from between your thighs, resting his head atop your stomach.
He allowed you a moment of composure, feeling your digits trace the lines of his countenance, stroke at his tresses. Jace pressed a string of kisses all around your body, wherever his lips could reach. The moment was incredibly tender, lingering with the tension of a blossoming ardor.
Through the comfortable haze of silence, you cleared your throat, staring down at Jacaerys with what only could be described at a look of complete and utter adoration. He was so kind, so noble and gentle, yet with the fervor of the dragonâs blood, a desire to do good. You felt so fortunate, even moreso when he smiled at you, pressing a kiss to your hip.
âI want you, Jacaerys,â You whispered, watching as Jace began to sit up, letting your legs trap him on either side. âMore than Iâve ever wanted anyone else.â It was the hitch within his throat that made you shiver, heart hammering beneath your breast as you began to confess your feelings â it was inevitable.
Jace reveled at the sight of you, naked and glimmering within the moonlit dusk, candlelight bathing your physique in shades of flickering orange. His descent was slow as he covered you with his body, lips parting to allow a shaky exhale before he kissed your brow. âYou have my heart,â He uttered, forehead resting against yours. âEverything I am, is yours.â
Your palms moved to cup either side of his face, thumbs caressing along his cheekbones before you smiled, kissing the corner of his mouth. âI am yours.â You assured, your commitment resolute before the Gods â before Jacaerys Velaryon.
It was a poignant moment, one that seemed intermingled with the seriousness of your words, yet still tinged with the youthful excitement of a first love. He kissed you, slow and amorous, full of an unrestrained affection that no longer seemed weighed-down by unspoken sentiments.
âAre you certain that this is what you want?â Jace asked, his voice a soft caress through your haze of kisses. He would not fault you if you wanted to stop now â and he would if you wished it of him. As much as he desired you, he valued your virtue above his own.
âYes,â You replied, your palms gliding from his soft visage to the taut muscle of his shoulders, lacing your fingers around the back of his neck. âAre you certain, too? I worry that you might regret lying with me.â
Jacaerys shook his head, brows furrowing together to reflect a semblance of disbelief. He reached down to caress your cheek, making sure that you understood every word. âNothing in the world would ever make me regret this,â He murmured. âIâve never been more certain about anything before.â
A brief stirring of adoration fluttered within your chest, and you knew that you wanted no one else ever again. You pulled yourself off of the mattress enough to kiss him, sinking into the sweet bliss of the moment as he reciprocated. His mouth moved in-tandem with yours, eyes beginning to flutter shut.
His hands planted themselves into the feathered pillow on either side of your head, but it didnât last long. Jacaerys leaned back, maneuvering out of the leather of his trousers, flush against you once they were removed. You were so soft, like an ocean of silk beneath him.
He felt one of your legs hitch around his hips, bodies together beneath the furs. The chill of your chambers dissipated, replaced by the warmth of your skin. You kept your hands poised against his shoulders, dancing across the smattering of freckles there as you continued to kiss him, as if each one would be your last.
The hardened swell of his cock pressed against your lower stomach, and you could feel his breath grow heavier between kisses. He was perfect â flawless, so handsome that it made you ache with want.
Jace kissed you again and again, feeling the soft peaks of your breasts brush against his chest. He adjusted his weight, shifted his hips as he pressed the head of his length against your slick cunt. He was somewhat nervous â perhaps not as much as you, but anxious enough. He made sure to be careful, feeling your legs nudge themselves apart.
A look of mutual preparedness passed between you both, between your doe-eyed gaze of anticipation and Jaceâs mounting look of want, there was little room left for uncertainty. He sat up enough to position himself against your aching core, his cock splitting past your folds before it prodded at your entrance.
You steeled yourself, and Jace made sure to be slow, afraid of hurting you enough to cause true discomfort. As he tilted forward, his length filled you, sheathing himself inside of you, inch by inch. Admittedly, it wasnât a good feeling â not initially, anyway.
A sharp exhale escaped you as he bottomed out, staying still atop you as he allowed you time to grow accustomed to him. Waves of complete and utter bliss rolled through him, his own pleasure nearly overwhelming. You were tight, maidenhead intact for the next few moments until he began to move.
âAre you alright?â Jace whispered around the shell of your ear, pressing against you once more as he reassuringly kissed along the side of your face. He felt despicable for causing you any amount of pain, but you seemed to dismiss his concern.
âI am,â You placated him with a smile, coaxing him in for a kiss. It was best if you didnât think about it â and with time, it would feel better. Everything was awkward and clumsy, the follies of youth, but as Jace began to move, a fire began to burn within your belly. âJace.â You sighed, keeping your leg around his hips.
A soft groan resonated beside your ear as Jace adopted a sluggish rhythm, not wanting to intensify things so quickly. Your eyes fluttered shut, body content to bend to his thrusts, grow accustomed to the act itself. He reciprocated your kiss, black curls falling in front of his temples.
Bliss soon replaced discomfort, the more you allowed yourself to adjust. You shifted your legs further apart, one hand falling toward his bicep, the other remaining tangled at the nape of his neck. The sounds of your lovemaking soon filled your chambers, with your foreheads pressed together.
Your name fell from his tongue in a needy groan, and it made you shiver, body reacting with a barrage of gooseflesh along your spine. Perspiration grew upon his brow as he maintained his pace, digits curling into the furs on either side of you.
The sound of your pleasured moans made him feel better, a sign that you were no longer riddled with soreness and irritation. Jace pressed a trail of hot, messy kisses along your face, reaching to the sweet spot beneath your jaw. He kept himself anchored there, feeling your hand squeeze at his bicep.
âJace!â You squeaked, flushed at the growing lewdness of the noises â the squelching, the passionate groans and heavy breathing. He was perfect, cock filling you in a way that left you completely satisfied. Jace felt your hand fall away from his bicep, reaching for his own, interlocked hands falling back against the cushions.
He shuddered, reveling in the way your cunt tightened around him, the sensation of your hand within his hair, hands joined at your side. Jaceâs pace began to quicken, but only somewhat, enough to really feel the myriad of pleasure take hold.
You yearned for him in every way imaginable; your body ached with each movement, every thrust as he leisurely moved in and out of you. His cock pulsated with a dull throbbing, enough to fill his belly with a raging fire. He kissed you again, lips traversing wherever they saw fit, peppering every inch of your sweet skin.
Time seemed to move agonizingly slow in your presence â Jacaerys wouldnât want it any other way. If he could capture this moment, he wouldâve. Every moment was graced by a warm intimacy that sank into his very bones, his adoration for you furthered with each roll of his hips, sheathing himself inside of you.
His soft lips graced your collarbone, continuing to make love to you in the only way he knew how. It was passionate and gentle, in a way reserved for the deepest of lovers. Jace grunted when your hips involuntarily rolled upward to grind against him, lips parting as he squeezed your hand.
At last, he lifted his head, your eyes locking together. Your countenance was exceptionally beautiful, especially when painted with the shade of desire, and it had him aching with want. His jaw tensed when you brushed dark curls away from his eyes, palm lingering long enough to pull him down for a kiss.
His cock continued to hit your cunt with a tame fervor, filling you completely, testing your limits as he neared his peak. Jacaerys knew that there would be more moments like these in the future â his energy was waning, and perhaps, the unfamiliarity of it all contributed to this.
Your name spilled from his tongue, throat echoing with a soft groan as his pace became slightly erratic. It was difficult to control himself amidst chasing after his release, but he maintained what little composure he had, gritting his teeth together as he thrust into you again.
Pleasure contorted into ecstasy, becoming an unstoppable wave that was quick to take hold of him. Concentration intermingled with bliss were etched into his features, face pressing against yours, nearly breathless as you kissed him again.
With a groan, Jacaerys rocked forward again, spilling himself inside of you. In hindsight, it was both brazen and feckless, done in the heat of the moment, but he cared little of it for the time being. His cock throbbed, thrusting into you again a time or two before he stilled completely.
Heavy pants resonated between you both as you caught your breath, flush against one another in the aftermath. You pressed a kiss against Jaceâs cheek, trailing your fingers throughout his hair. He was quick to kiss you, gathering his composure before he pulled himself out of you.
A rush of sticky warmth slathered the inside of your thighs, leaving behind a feeling of slight discomfort. Jace gathered a cloth for you to clean yourself with, returning to lay beside you as he rucked the furs up around your bodies. The air was colder at nightfall, injected with a saltwater mist.
âI apologize if I hurt you,â Jacaerys uttered, dark brows furrowing together as you wriggled closer, resting your head atop his bare chest. Your arm draped over him, allowing yourself to be close, a feeling that he wanted more than anything else. âIt was not my intention.â He kissed the top of your head.
âYou didnât,â You replied, tracing soft patterns against his skin, angling your head up enough to kiss him. Jace cupped your jaw, leaning in to deepen the tender entanglement, lost within the bliss of your lips. âYou would never hurt me.â
Jacaerys was fiercely protective over you, that much was true â even from himself. He kept an arm wrapped around you, cradling you at his side as he gazed into your eyes. He could see you, then â his beloved wife, the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Perhaps it was too early to tell, but he knew.
As the both of you settled in together, your maidenhead now lost, you couldnât help but smile. Jacaerys had made your first experience more than anyone ever could â you hoped that it would stay that way forever. âDoes your offer of teaching High Valyrian still stand?â You mused.
A huff of amusement left Jacaerys as he turned his head enough to look at you, a smile playing at either corner of his mouth. âI thought you wanted those dusty old books.â Admittedly, his offering of those damned texts is what started this in the first place â he had to be grateful.
âI knew that you would be kind enough to bring them to me,â You confessed, nose wrinkling in amusement. âAn excuse to see you.â The look on Jaceâs face was one of theatrical shock, and you erupted into a fit of laughter when he squeezed your hip.
âYou might grow tired of me, if I am to teach you High Valyrian.â Jacaerys mused, his smile one of complete and utter warmth. Anyone would know that his love for you was obvious â there wasnât any subtlety about it.
You shook your head, comfortably sinking against him, your upper body lounging atop him. âI could never grow tired of you, Jacaerys Velaryon.â You exhaled, exhaustion beginning to grip you. It was bound to happen eventually, given the abnormally late hour.
Jace was thankful that you werenât looking â his face was dusted with a rather obvious layer of pink, and yet, the feeling was beyond satisfying. The two of you allowed the silence to sink through, accompanied by the sound of the encroaching tide as it broke upon the jagged rock and cliff sides surrounding Dragonstone.
âWill you stay?â You asked, hoping that he would be agreeable to it. It was a risky proposition, but Jace knew that he couldnât leave you after this â he didnât want to, either. No one would come clamoring about within his chambers at first light.
âOf course,â He murmured, lips twitching into a sweet smile. âThough, I should go at the first light of dawn.â Jaceâs tone was one of clear disappointment, but it was best to keep suspicions low. You knew that he had duties that transcended you â he was the Prince of Dragonstone, the heir â and you were not betrothed.
A sense of understanding settled onto your features, but you still wanted him by your side â you wished that you could wake up next to him. âI hope that dawn never comes, then.â You whispered, taking his hand within yours as you pressed a kiss against his palm, knowing that there would be many more dawns to come with him at your side.
copyright @ swordgrace; please do not translate, steal, or copy my works and post them onto other platforms or claim as your own.
#house of the dragon#hotd x reader#jacaerys velaryon x reader#jacaerys velaryon x you#jacaerys targaryen x reader#jacaerys targaryen x you#jacaerys x reader#jacaerys x you#house of the dragon fanfiction#house of the dragon smut#jacaerys velaryon#jacaerys targaryen#hotd smut#hotd fanfic
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How cute would it be if Andrew notices Neil getting all blushy and flustered when Andrew blocks impossible shots and just goes above and beyond as a goalie.
So he actually starts doing it on purpose when Neil's around just to get that reaction (and ego stroke and Neil pampering him after as a reward for being the best goalie ever, he pampers Andrew anyway but Andrew being great at Exy gets some favourable reactions from him and Andrew likes that). Everyone's thrilled cause Andrew is not only trying but actually playing at an insane level (even if it's just to make his boyfriend swoon).
The downside is if Neil has to miss practice, Andrew practically sits in the goal and sulks uncaring.
At one point Andrew actually broke Exy records during a game. He will probably enter the exy hall of fame for how he defended the goal that night.
Why?
Cause a few weeks before the game Kevin showed them highlights from the other team and Neil went on and on about how amazing their goalie was, he meant nothing by it other than one player showing respect for another players game.
And Andrew said nothing but went very still. Then that night humiliated the whole team, but especially that asshat goalie who can't hold a candle to him. Mission accomplished Neil barely remembered the other dudes name too busy fawning and fanboying over the way Andrew played.
Kevin is conflicted cause yes Andrew is trying but as Kevin's best friend can Andrew not turn his moms sport into a werid sex thing with Neil?
#aftg#all for the game#neil josten#the sunshine court#tsc#the foxhole court#tfc#the kings men#the raven king#tkm#trk#andrew minyard#andriel#the foxes
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all RIGHT:
Why You're Writing Medieval (and Medieval-Coded) Women Wrong: A RANT
(Or, For the Love of God, People, Stop Pretending Victorian Style Gender Roles Applied to All of History)
This is a problem I see alllll over the place - I'll be reading a medieval-coded book and the women will be told they aren't allowed to fight or learn or work, that they are only supposed to get married, keep house and have babies, &c &c.
If I point this out ppl will be like "yes but there was misogyny back then! women were treated terribly!" and OK. Stop right there.
By & large, what we as a culture think of as misogyny & patriarchy is the expression prevalent in Victorian times - not medieval. (And NO, this is not me blaming Victorians for their theme park version of "medieval history". This is me blaming 21st century people for being ignorant & refusing to do their homework).
Yes, there was misogyny in medieval times, but 1) in many ways it was actually markedly less severe than Victorian misogyny, tyvm - and 2) it was of a quite different type. (Disclaimer: I am speaking specifically of Frankish, Western European medieval women rather than those in other parts of the world. This applies to a lesser extent in Byzantium and I am still learning about women in the medieval Islamic world.)
So, here are the 2 vital things to remember about women when writing medieval or medieval-coded societies
FIRST. Where in Victorian times the primary axes of prejudice were gender and race - so that a male labourer had more rights than a female of the higher classes, and a middle class white man would be treated with more respect than an African or Indian dignitary - In medieval times, the primary axis of prejudice was, overwhelmingly, class. Thus, Frankish crusader knights arguably felt more solidarity with their Muslim opponents of knightly status, than they did their own peasants. Faith and age were also medieval axes of prejudice - children and young people were exploited ruthlessly, sent into war or marriage at 15 (boys) or 12 (girls). Gender was less important.
What this meant was that a medieval woman could expect - indeed demand - to be treated more or less the same way the men of her class were. Where no ancient legal obstacle existed, such as Salic law, a king's daughter could and did expect to rule, even after marriage.
Women of the knightly class could & did arm & fight - something that required a MASSIVE outlay of money, which was obviously at their discretion & disposal. See: Sichelgaita, Isabel de Conches, the unnamed women fighting in armour as knights during the Third Crusade, as recorded by Muslim chroniclers.
Tolkien's Eowyn is a great example of this medieval attitude to class trumping race: complaining that she's being told not to fight, she stresses her class: "I am of the house of Eorl & not a serving woman". She claims her rights, not as a woman, but as a member of the warrior class and the ruling family. Similarly in Renaissance Venice a doge protested the practice which saw 80% of noble women locked into convents for life: if these had been men they would have been "born to command & govern the world". Their class ought to have exempted them from discrimination on the basis of sex.
So, tip #1 for writing medieval women: remember that their class always outweighed their gender. They might be subordinate to the men within their own class, but not to those below.
SECOND. Whereas Victorians saw women's highest calling as marriage & children - the "angel in the house" ennobling & improving their men on a spiritual but rarely practical level - Medievals by contrast prized virginity/celibacy above marriage, seeing it as a way for women to transcend their sex. Often as nuns, saints, mystics; sometimes as warriors, queens, & ladies; always as businesswomen & merchants, women could & did forge their own paths in life
When Elizabeth I claimed to have "the heart & stomach of a king" & adopted the persona of the virgin queen, this was the norm she appealed to. Women could do things; they just had to prove they were Not Like Other Girls. By Elizabeth's time things were already changing: it was the Reformation that switched the ideal to marriage, & the Enlightenment that divorced femininity from reason, aggression & public life.
For more on this topic, read Katherine Hager's article "Endowed With Manly Courage: Medieval Perceptions of Women in Combat" on women who transcended gender to occupy a liminal space as warrior/virgin/saint.
So, tip #2: remember that for medieval women, wife and mother wasn't the ideal, virgin saint was the ideal. By proving yourself "not like other girls" you could gain significant autonomy & freedom.
Finally a bonus tip: if writing about medieval women, be sure to read writing on women's issues from the time so as to understand the terms in which these women spoke about & defended their ambitions. Start with Christine de Pisan.
I learned all this doing the reading for WATCHERS OF OUTREMER, my series of historical fantasy novels set in the medieval crusader states, which were dominated by strong medieval women! Book 5, THE HOUSE OF MOURNING (forthcoming 2023) will focus, to a greater extent than any other novel I've ever yet read or written, on the experience of women during the crusades - as warriors, captives, and political leaders. I can't wait to share it with you all!
#watchers of outremer#medieval history#the lady of kingdoms#the house of mourning#writing#writing fantasy#female characters#medieval women#eowyn#the lord of the rings#lotr#history#historical fiction#fantasy#writing tip#writing advice
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THE GREAT WAR
PART I †SECRET PREGNANCY AU
A/N: After seven months, it's finally here. Part I of Giyuu's Bundle of Joy. This fic involved a ton of research and tears. I hope you all enjoy. Special shout-out to @squishybabei @kentohours @homo-homini-lupus-est-1701 @ghost-1-y and @xxsabitoxx for letting me bombard your DMs with endless snippets from this fic for feedback. Note that this is a multi-part fic, and it will be a non-linear story.
CW: explicit sexual content ⌠MDNI ⌠loss of virginity ⌠unprotected sex ⌠protective/possessive Giyuu ⌠canon-typical violence
LISTEN TO THE PLAYLIST HERE
January, 1915
The moonâs rays filtered through the sparse canopy of the trees from above, bathing that small portion of the forest in its silvery glow. There, about twenty paces ahead, Giyuu locked eyes on his target.
A demon; one heâd been pursuing through the dense forest separating his Manor from the base of a great mountain for the last several miles
The demon had yet to notice him, for it was focused entirely on its own prey â a human woman, who was frantically zigzagging as she ran in a desperate effort to evade its clutches.Â
She was succeeding rather well in her endeavor, managing to dart out of the beastâs reach right as it snapped its sharp, deadly claws at her back. But the girl then miscalculated her movements and stumbled over something â whether it was a tree root or her own feet, he could not say â and she went airborne. For one, sickening moment, Giyuu feared he would not be fast enough to save her from falling victim to the demon he was readying to kill.
The girl squealed as she fell, just narrowly managing to avoid the swipe of the beastâs claws as they cut uselessly at the air where her back had been only seconds before. Something long and wooden flew from her hand as she sprawled across the forest floor â a broom.
Odd.Â
Steps quick and even, Giyuuâs thumb flicked his sword free from its scabbard. Within seconds of him drawing his weapon, the Slayerâs blade sliced seamlessly through the demonâs neck, its head thudding pathetically to the forest floor before the beast could comprehend the threat.
He landed swiftly on the balls of his feet, the Water Pillar quickly shaking his blade free of the demonâs blackened, rotted blood before sheathing it at his hip. A quick job â that was how he liked it; free of fuss.Â
Behind him, he heard the leaves coating the frozen ground of the forest shift and crack as the human girl heâd rescued rose to her feet. He grimaced; while helping rid the world of the blight inflicted upon it by demons was his lifeâs sole and true purpose, and one he fulfilled without hesitation, he was little more than a fish out of water when it came to talking to those he helped.Â
The girl had yet to flee; Giyuu suspected she might be in shock, if not a bit simple, and he sought to prod her along. After all, the sooner she left the forest, the less likely sheâd end up a demonâs meal and waste his efforts in preserving her life.Â
âYou should be fine now. Please return to your ho-,â The dark-haired Slayerâs words were cut off with a sputter as the head of the womanâs broom whacked him sharply up the side of his skull.Â
Giyuu stood there for a moment, dazed and slightly confused as he turned towards the woman whose life heâd just preserved.Â
The Water Pillar had not paid her much mind upon discovering her seconds away from becoming the slain horned demonâs newest meal, his attention having been entirely focused on eliminating his target. But now, without the distracting threat of a man-eating beast, he could see she was clad in the traditional attire worn by Shinto priestesses, though she looked far too young to have achieved such a status. Instead, she appeared to be much closer to himself in age. The front of her red hakama pants were streaked in mud and dirt from her fall, and several strands of hair had fallen loose from where theyâd been gathered in a ribbon just below her shoulders.Â
And she was glaring at him.Â
âWhat are you?â She demanded, and the Water Pillar noted the faint tremor in her voice that she worked to conceal behind her defensive stance, her broom braced in front of her like a blade.Â
A slow blink. âI am Tomioka.âÂ
It baffled him that he let his name slide so freely when heâd never been one particularly keen on sharing it. Yet, heâd thought that perhaps the exchange of names would get the wild woman before him to calm, and perhaps lower the sweeping tool â-
âWhat the hell is a Tomioka?âÂ
Giyuu wondered whether the â Miko, that was what young priestesses in training were called â had hit her head in the fall. âMy name.âÂ
A faint dusting of red spread across the Mikoâs cheeks as she realized the absurdity of her mistake, though she still did not lower her weapon. Rather, she jutted it towards him in what Giyuu thought may have been an attempt to be threatening.Â
âAnd what was that thing just now, Tomioka? And what are you?â Quickly, her eyes swept behind him, scanning. âAre there more?â
Idly, Giyuu wondered why he was bothering to indulge in such a silly conversation to begin with, chalking it up to the mere fact that they were still in a dark forest, with dawn still several hours away.Â
The foolish girl would end up a snack for another demon if she did not turn around and go home.Â
âIt was a demon. Iâd been tracking it for several miles when it stumbled across you. You can count yourself lucky â do not hit me again.â He cut off with a warning, eyes narrowing as the Miko drew the broom back up over her head.Â
There was a tense moment as the two regarded one another, Giyuuâs eyes locked on the Mikoâs trembling arm as she stared distrustfully back at him.Â
The girlâs hands twitched as the broom cleaved through the air once more, but Giyuu knocked it easily away, sending the cleaning tool flying uselessly to the side where it rolled under a bush.Â
âAre you finished?â Giyuu asked, irritation creeping into his tone as he stared coolly at the flustered Miko.Â
âYouâve stripped me of my only weapon, so I suppose I have no choice,â the young woman sniffed, her tone as frosty as his glare.Â
Giyuu grimaced. âYou would not have lost the privilege had you simply done as I asked.âÂ
The Miko folded her arms stubbornly across her chest and glowered at him. âYou would truly leave a woman defenseless in the woods? With nothing to protect herself?â
Giyuu scoffed. âYou are not a woman; you are a menace.âÂ
The young womanâs mouth opened and closed several times as her face flushed several shades deeper. âY-you!âÂ
A crack! somewhere in the woods made the sputtering Miko fall silent with a small squeak, and Giyuu was bemused to find that the womanâs hands shot to him for safety, when only moments before sheâd tried to clobber him away from her.Â
âYou said thatâŠthat thing earlier was a demon, yes?â She whispered and Giyuu nodded, tense as his eyes swept through the shadowy line of the trees, searching.Â
âDo you think there are more?â
âSo long as we continue sitting here like a pair of lame ducks, more are bound to come sniffing.â The wary Pillar replied. âWhich is why I suggest you return home â without bludgeoning me further.â
The young Priestess continued to cling to his arm, her eyes wide and anxious. Giyuu cleared this throat, and when the womanâs attention snapped back to him, he pointedly glanced down at her white-knuckled grip on the sleeve of his haori.Â
âApologies,â the Miko blushed, and her hands quickly relinquished their hold on his sleeve. She wrung her hands nervously before her. âMight you escort me back to my Shrine? Itâs not far from here â less than two kilometers.âÂ
Still within his territory â albeit at the opposite end of the forest where is own Manor stood. He grimaced, but nodded stiffly. His efforts to save the womanâs life would be in vain if she walked away from him and straight into the waiting, eager claws of another beast that lurked in the shadows.
The Miko smiled brightly at him and offered her name. Giyuu elected not to reply, and the girl settled into step at his side, a small frown pulling at her lips.
âIâm sorry for earlier â for hitting you with my broom.â The girl â Y/N â said a short while later, the faintest trace of shyness in her tone.Â
Giyuu did not think the apology warranted a response, and so he gave none, but the chatty little devil prodded him once more.Â
âDid I injure you?â She gestured to the side of his head where her broom had caught him.Â
Giyuu snorted, raising an eyebrow at her. âThe day I am hurt by a mere broom is the day I retire from the Demon Slayer Corps.âÂ
Y/N hummed in contemplation. âAnd what exactly is the great and mysterious Demon Slayer Corps?âÂ
The Water Pillarâs eyes remained forward. âI should think the name is self-explanatory. There are demons who eat humans. We slay them.âÂ
Inwardly, Giyuu cringed at the harshness of his words. It did not happen often, but there were times when he wished he was better with them, when he wished he did not come off quite as aloof and callous âÂ
âYou do not know how to talk to people very well, do you Tomioka-sama?â Y/Nâs tone was not judgmental; it rather had a mild curiosity to it, as though she were merely commenting on the weather or the quality of a cup of tea.Â
But the Water Pillar did not know how to answer her. Kocho once told him that others disliked him, but Giyuu wasnât sure that was entirely true; after all, no one had ever said so much to his face.Â
Then again, if the young shrine maidenâs words were anything to go by, then perhaps the Insect Pillarâs scathing assessment hadnât been too far off the mark.Â
âWhat even brought you into the forest so late at night?â Giyuu did not know why the question needled at him, but he found the pressing silence of the trees more disconcerting than the Mikoâs voice, and so he was desperate for the distraction. âAnd why a broom?â
Y/N herself seemed surprised at his sudden interest. âNight-blooming herbs,â she said plainly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. âThey are critical for certain rites and medications. And I cannot collect them any other time. The broom was for protection, obviously.âÂ
âI wasnât aware shrines still performed rituals,â Giyuu pushed an errant tree branch out of their way, and ahead, faint lights began to swim into view. The Shrine. âAre you not a mere relic of a time long since-passed?âÂ
âIâll have you know that we still perform basic cleansing rites for those in the village,â Y/N bristled. âAnd we provide medical aid, since there is no hospital nearby.â
She shot him a cold look. âModern medicine would not have developed but for ancient practices such as ours.â
Giyuu frowned. He hadnât meant to insult the woman. âBe that as it may,â he said flatly. âDemons prowl at night. You wandering into the forest none the wiser is akin to you waltzing into their territory with a giant sign that says âEat me.ââ
Y/N grimaced. âThen what would you have me do? Neglect my duties?âÂ
He could sympathize with that. âNo, Iâm not saying you should forsake your obligations,â he furrowed his eyebrows at the thought. âPerhaps it is simply a risk you must take. But you should at least be aware of your surroundings.â
Y/N looked upon him with a miserable expression. âYouâre of little help, you know that?âÂ
Giyuu only frowned, perplexed as to why she couldnât understand the import of his words.
An awkward silence ensued, punctured only by the faint hoot of an owl. For that, the established swordsman was grateful; noise meant the absence of predators, which meant they were safe â for now.Â
âYou mentioned tracking the demon earlier â how long had you been doing so?âÂ
âA while.âÂ
The girl was relentless. âAnd you just so happened to track it here? Where it was conveniently chasing me?âÂ
âI patrol this region. Your rescue was nothing more than coincidence and luck on your part.âÂ
âMy gratitude is endless,â the shrine maiden said drily. âForgive me for not falling to the ground in prostration.â
At that, Giyuu fell silent and refused to engage in any further conversation. The shrine maiden, for her part, seemed to take his cue that he had no interest in her or exchanging meaningless pleasantries, and so she too, went quiet.Â
The forest floor eventually began to slope gradually up, and before long, Giyuu found himself walking along a carved rock path that curved through the trees until it widened at a great set of stone stairs. At the very top of the steep incline, he could spot a great Torii gate.
Y/N turned to him with a beaming smile. âAllow me to introduce you to the Shrine." Tomioka opened his mouth to protest, but she quickly added, âYou should at least know who it is you have dedicated your life to protecting.âÂ
âIâd rather not.â
But she was already leading him up the stairs, his wrist pinched delicately between two of her fingers. Realistically, Giyuu knew it would take him no effort to shake the womanâs hold and disappear into the night. But to his own bemusement, he allowed her to tote him behind her as though he were little more than a useless pet.Â
The pair passed under the Torrii and into a sprawling courtyard. Though night sky was a deep, inky black, the perimeter of the courtyard was dotted with several stone lanterns -- toro -- each of which had been lit with a generous flame. Giyuu's quick perusal of the Shrine, however, was cut short as the Miko led him into the Shrine's main structure -- the honden -- and tugged him down a narrow hallway. Based on his rough appraisal of the building, Giyuu surmised she was taking him to the center of the honden, likely where the girl's master was.
His theory was proven correct when Y/N drew up to a great slat of shoji panneling. The Miko knocked softly on one of the wooden beams before she slid the door aside, revealing a great, open room that was littered with scrolls, half-dried pots of ink, and burned incense sticks. There, in the center of the room, knelt the head Priestess of the Shrine. She was an old, shriveled, wrinkled thing. The white hair that sheâd gathered into a knot at her neck was as wispy as the thinnest clouds, and a quick glance over her hands revealed swollen joints covered by skin spotted with age.
But the Priestess did not appear to be a gentle elder by any means; her thin mouth was curled down into a sneer that was directed at the Miko at his side, and her eyes were hard and cold. Â
"Head Priestess," Y/N bowed to her elder. "This man is called Tomioka, and he helped save me tonight in the forest."
Giyuu resisted the urge to snort. Helped, indeed.
The old woman's eyes shone bright with an emotion he could not name as the Miko continued. "A creature attacked me as I was returning home. Tomioka says he is a swordsman whose occupation --"
âI know what he is, girl,â the Priestess snapped at her student before she turned those beady eyes to him. âA member of the Demon Slayer Corps will always be welcome at this Shrine â particularly one as esteemed as yourself.âÂ
The Water Pillar straightened at the old womanâs casual mention of the Corps. âI was not aware that of any Shrines so affiliated with the Corps.âÂ
âThere was a time when the Demon Slayer Corps would partner with shrines such as this to carry out its mission,â the Priestess replied evenly. From his periphery, Giyuu spotted Y/Nâs head snap toward her mentor, her jaw slack. âOnce, priestesses were akin to shamans who offered a variety of rituals for cleansing and protection. You slayers relied on our connection with our communities to operate more effectively, and we in turn, counted on your protection to fight what we could not.â
Despite the distinct scent of sake that clung to the elderly shrine keeper like a cloud, her eyes remained sharp and fixed upon him, and her wrinkled mouth pulled into a rueful smile. âNow, it seems, our wise and benevolent government has forced us both to retreat to the shadows to operate in secret.â
She bowed her head. âYou have nothing but my respect, Lord Hashira. You are always welcome here.âÂ
Giyuu did not respond, but he inclined his head toward the Priestess in polite acknowledgement.Â
Y/N gaped at her Master. "Lord --?"
The old woman poured another generous serving of sake and brought the choko to her lips. âThough we are honored by your visit, young Lord, Iâm afraid your presence is nothing more than a calculated effort by this one,â she nodded pointedly at the young shrine maiden at his side, whose cheeks pinkened. âTo keep herself out of trouble. My apprentice was not permitted to leave the grounds, you see.âÂ
âOh hush you old drunk,â Giyuuâs eyes snapped to the irate Miko in surprise. âI told you earlier I was going to the village market ââÂ
âTelling me while I am in the middle of lessons with the younger girls and sprinting off before I can respond is hardly me giving you permission,â the Priestessâs mouth curled into a sneer. âYouâve defied me for the last time, girl.âÂ
The old Priestess turned away from her apprentice, dismissive. âYou will take the rice bundles and hang them in the drying shed â every last one, for the next three days.âÂ
âYou hag!â Y/N fumed, her face pinched in outrage. âI was on rice duty all last week without an ounce of assistance ââÂ
âAnd you apparently have yet to learn your lesson,â the old woman retorted bitterly, shooting the seething Shrine Maiden a withering glare. âConsidering you still think it seemly to mouth off at any and every opportunity ââÂ
The Miko spat a curse at the elder Priestess so filthy and colorful that even Giyuu could not mask his surprise, raising his eyebrow. But if Y/Nâs outburst shocked the Shrineâs head, the old woman gave no sign. Instead, she only glowered at the young woman as the latter turned and shoved the shoji door harshly to the side. Giyuu, ever the unwilling observer, was left to be pulled by his wrist back into the hall behind the young Miko before she whipped around to face her senior once more.Â
Giyuu had thought himself stunned by the crassness of the Shrine Miadenâs language before, but nothing prepared him for the sight of the obscene gesture she made at the old woman before she slammed the door firmly shut.Â
A telling crash on the other side of the wall signaled the Elder Priestess had hurled her empty sake dish at the door with all her might. âAnd work on your aim!â Y/N snapped before turning sharply on her heel to stomp out of the honden, tugging the Water Pillar helplessly behind her.Â
âShe seems unstable.â said Giyuu once they were a safe distance away from the main Honden.Â
Y/N brushed aside his concern with a flippant waive of her hand. âGranny is harmless. As her charge, I suppose I instigate her nearly as much as she torments me.âÂ
Granny. It made sense, then, the curious affection the girl held for the rancorous head Priestess, even if he could not bring himself to fully understand it.Â
âYou are more than welcome to stay the night,â the Mikoâs mood lightened considerably the more she put distance between herself and the drunken head Priestess. âWe serve breakfast at sunrise, but of course, youâre not obligated to attend.âÂ
The ravenetteâs mouth quirked down in a faint grimace, the only sign of his discomfort. âI should return to my own home.âÂ
âItâs quite late,â Y/N glanced up at the night sky, now awash with stars that surrounded the fat, glowing moon like thousands of glittering jewels. She turned back to him with a radiant grin. âAt least allow me to show you around.â
â
If anyone had asked him, Giyuu Tomioka would not have been able to explain the series of events that had led him here.Â
He distinctly remembered telling the vexatious young Shrine Maiden no, that he could not stay the night, yet somehow heâd found himself in the Shrineâs old, musty guest house, already prepared for his stay, a lantern flickering merrily in the corner.Â
He glanced warily at the fresh sleeping kimono folded beside his futon. The possibility of him actually sleeping in such an unfamiliar place was nil and while the Water Pillar certainly had no issue in appearing impolite to others, he thought that perhaps the Shrine was affiliated with the connection of Wisteria Houses dotted throughout the land, and he didnât want to risk offending the head Priestess and cause her to shut her gates to other slayers in need of lodging.Â
So, Giyuu paced the floor of the small guest house, restless. Though his eyes remained carefully trained on the window of his room, waiting for the slightest hint of movement that would give him an excuse to leave without offending his hosts, no sign of either his crow or any demonic threat manifested. Though, he supposed with a frown, it shouldnât surprise him that heâd not heard from Kanzaburo; the ancient bird was likely flitting about the forest, lost.
He continued to pace until finally, the sky in the East began to lighten signaling that dawn was fast approaching. Stealthily, he slipped out of the small hut that had served as his temporary accommodations and made his way toward the Torii under which he and that Miko â Y/N â had passed upon their arrival.
Heâd almost cleared the gate when he saw the elder Priestess standing beside the Torii, apparently waiting for him. Giyuu nodded his head at her, the only expression of courtesy he was willing to give, but he was halted as the old woman flung out a single arm in front of him, her hand flat and palm turned up, waiting.
And that was how Giyuu learned the Shrine was not, in fact, a Wisteria House; not as he was forced to fork over a considerable sum of his earnings into the Priestessâs expectant hand.Â
Wisteria Houses meant Corps Members stayed free of charge; the price the Shrineâs keeper demanded in exchange for his brief stay bordered extortion.
At least heâd had the money; if heâd been of any lower rank, the old woman would have cleaned him out. Â
He scowled as he departed but his irritation quickly fell away as he finally laid eyes on Kanzaburo, who nearly collided with his Masterâs head as he struggled to pant out his orders.Â
And so, as the Water Pillar trekked through the forest and toward his new assignment, the view of the Shrine faded behind the dense canopy of the mountain forest, and so too, did any final, sparing thoughts of it, or its inhabitants.
âââ-
Nearly a month passed since Giyuu stumbled across the strange shrine maiden in the forest separating his Estate from the old Shrine, and the Miko had nearly faded from his memory. Not that such a feat was difficult; the raven-haired Pillarâs mind was far more occupied with tasks like patrol and chasing down leads that could potentially lead the Corps to an Upper Rank demon to focus on much else.Â
Heâd intended only to find a decent meal and then depart the village before nightfall to investigate rumors of women disappearing in a small town to the south. Night was rapidly approaching, however, and heâd yet to find any vendor that sold anything he liked, much to his chagrin. He was about to cut his losses and continue on, when he spied a familiar blur of white and red idly perusing one of the stalls, apparently oblivious to the impending sunset.Â
Without thought, his feet carried him toward her, his annoyance sparking to life.Â
âWhat do you think youâre doing?âÂ
The Mikoâs â Y/Nâs â head turned back and her eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the Pillar standing behind her.Â
âTomioka-sama,â she greeted with a polite bow. âI did not expect to see you so soon.âÂ
He ignored her greeting, choosing instead to take a step closer. âI asked what you were doing.âÂ
If she was taken aback by his terseness, she didnât show it. âI am returning to my shrine after an afternoon of errands,â she replied smoothly. âAs is usual for me.âÂ
âIt is nearly dark.âÂ
âAn astute observation,â and to his annoyance, he saw an amused twinkle in her eye. âDo you also know that tonight is also a full moon?âÂ
Said moon had already made an appearance above them, growing brighter and brighter as the sky faded from twilight to night.Â
Giyuu had never been one for rolling his eyes, but the young womanâs knowing smirk grated at something inside him, made him feel as he often did whenever Kocho would make a sly comment with that smile of hers, that for some reason made him feel like he was the butt of some joke only she knew.Â
He grimaced. Teasing; thatâs what the shrine maiden was doing. She was teasing him.Â
âIt is nearly dark,â he repeated. âAnd I did not think youâd be naive enough to risk traveling after sunset.âÂ
âI believe it was you who insisted I did not have to ignore my duties, so long as I paid attention to my surroundings.â She replied coolly. âSo that is exactly what I am doing.â
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Fine. If the stubborn girl wanted to be bait for whatever awaited her in the forest once the sun finally set, then that was her choice. Heâd saved her once, and heâd given her sufficient warning; what she did from then on did not concern him.Â
He was about to bade her farewell when a slurred, boisterous voice boomed her name from across the market. Several heads turned toward the source, including Giyuu's, until he found a round faced, piggish man stumbling away from a sake stand, his cheeks flushed a bright red.
The man repeated the Miko's name in that grating, sing-song voice of his. "Whe're you goin' all by yourself so late?"
He didn't know what possessed him to ask, but Tomioka turned to the shrine maiden. "A friend?"
âHis name is Susumo,â she said airily, though she could not conceal her scowl as the man drew closer. âHeâs merely the village drunk who forgets to keep his hands to himself.â
The shrine maidenâs eyes narrowed accusingly at the villager, and the Miko remarked, in a raised voice, âAnd he is not welcome at the Shrine, though he pretends to forget otherwise.â
Susumo only held his hands up, as though in surrender. âYou canât blame a man for wanting to know what lies under all those layers,â and as if the implication of his lechery wasnât clear enough, he gave the Miko a leering once-over. âCanât say I was disappointed.âÂ
âBut your friend is right,â he slurred, a smirk forming on his lips. âThe dark is too dangerous for a pretty thing like you to risk walking back alone ââ
âI shall escort her,â Tomioka said abruptly and she whipped back to him, her mouth falling open. âAfter all, Iâm welcome at the Shrine.âÂ
Susumo, too, gaped at the Swordsman. The Miko recovered quickly however, unwilling to allow the opportunity to pass or for the Slayer to suddenly come to his senses and realize heâd rather leave her to fend for herself in the forest.Â
âYou have my gratitude, Tomioka-sama,â and she gave him a small bow of her head. Relieved, she flipped her braid over her shoulder and smiled warmly up at her raven-haired companion. âShall we?â
She did not wait for Tomioka to answer, nor did she give any further acknowledgment to Susumo, who only continued to stare at the Hashira, his face bright red. With a feigned indifference, she breezed past him, but a sudden yelp from behind caused her to snap back in alarm.Â
The first thing she noticed was the proximity of the back of a dual-patterned haori as it stood between her and the village drunkard. The Water Pillarâs shroud nearly brushed the tip of her nose, forcing her to step back. Cautiously, she peered around Tomiokaâs rigid form, and her eyes widened at the sight before her.Â
Susumo, it appeared, had tried to grab her, only to be cut off by the Water Pillar himself, who snatched him by his wrist. Though it did not appear that Tomioka was using a great deal of effort to restrain him, it was clear Susumo was struggling â greatly so â against the ferocity of the Slayerâs hold, given how a vein bulged in his forehead, his face, rapidly turning purple.Â
Her gaze flicked to the Swordsmanâs hand, and she felt herself blanch at the odd angle of Susumoâs wrist.Â
She was no doctor, but she knew wrists werenât meant to twist as his did in Tomiokaâs crushing grip.Â
âLeave.â the Water Pillar ordered coldly, and there was a darkness in his eyes that matched the brutality of his hold. âYour presence is unnecessary and unwanted.â
âY-you! Susumo sputtered.
But Tomiokaâs grip only tightened. âNow.â
And then he released him, Susumo half-stumbling back from the Swordsman. His eyes were wide with both fear and loathing, and he muttered incoherently under his breath as he massaged his rapidly-swelling wrist.
The Water Pillar, however, did not pay any more attention to the red-faced villager. He turned only to the shrine maiden, who remained frozen in place, her eyes wide. "Shall we?"
Numbly, Y/N nodded and the two set off down the path that led back to the Shrine. Dimly, the Miko noted that the Slayer kept noticeably close to her as they walked, as though he was unwilling to let her wander too far away. The air between them as they traveled was thick and tense. She was on edge enough thanks to Susumo and his oily words, and she was desperate to do anything to distract herself from the buzzing mounting under her skin.Â
She cast a sly, sidelong glance at the Swordsman walking at her side. Heâd not been receptive to her small-talk the last time heâd escorted her back to her Shrine, but saying something â anything â would be better than this stifling quiet threatening to choke her.
âHow old are you?â Before the Swordsman could decide whether to answer, she continued on. âIf I had to guess, I would suspect youâre around my age, and I just passed my nineteenth birthday.â
She hummed aloud. âYou seem quite young, yet youâve achieved some level of status as a swordsman, according to Granny.â Her eyes fell to the blade secured at his hip before she lifted them back to his profile. âYet youâre as withdrawn and taciturn as an old man.âÂ
Her words, thankfully, seemed to irritate him into responding. âAre you always so forthright?â Â
The Miko grinned. âPerhaps I am like you, Lord â what was it? Hashiba?â
âHashira.âÂ
âYes, that. Perhaps I am like you, Lord Hashira â utterly lacking in social ability.â There was a mischievous twinkle in her eye as she brushed her shoulder against his bicep. âBut at least I make up for it by talking.âÂ
âTalking is a distraction,â Tomioka monotoned, his eyes fixed resolutely on the hidden path of the forest before them. âIt only serves as an interference to oneâs duties.â He looked pointedly at the Mikoâs profile, but inexplicably found himself unable to look away. âOr an excuse to ignore them.âÂ
But she was unflappable. âAnd yet you are the one who decided to escort me all the way back to my Shrine â so who is the one ignoring their duties, Tomioka-sama?âÂ
âI think you enjoy diverting my attention,â the Water Pillar retorted, though Y/N could see the rising annoyance in his eyes.Â
She felt his gaze bear into her as she flipped her loose hair behind her shoulder. âItâs not possible to distract someone unless they find the diversion in question captivating, Tomioka-sama.âÂ
The Water Pillar almost looked amused. âAnd you are certainly that, Y/N.âÂ
The Miko ducked her head to avoid that piercing gaze, so that the ravenette would not see the faint rosy blush creeping across her cheeks. âI did not think you had the constitution for teasing, Lord Hashira.âÂ
Tomioka looked at her fully then, a frown tugging at the corner of his mouth. âI do not jest.â He hesitated for a moment, eyebrows furrowed as he scrutinized her. âNor do I lie.âÂ
Y/Nâs lips parted. There was something about the way the Swordsman beheld her that made her stomach flutter. In her last encounter with the enigmatic Slayer, sheâd been so rattled by her close encounter with the demon, that she hadnât truly noticed much about the man whoâd saved her life, apart from his bland detachment and rather unfortunate social skills.Â
But now, the Miko was struck by how handsome the raven-haired Hashira was; she was mesmerized by the deep azure of his eyes, as vast and deep as the sea. His skin was a delicate alabaster, and, contrasted with the flesh of his hands which were calloused and scarred, his face had not a blemish in sight.
She blinked, clearing away some of the fog that had crept into her mind, put there by the vexatious Slayer. âI must return to my duties,â she said softly.
They spent the remainder of their journey back to the Shrine in silence. She was quick to break away from him the moment they passed under the Torii, though not before she muttered that he was welcome to stay, should he so choose.
She busied herself with her duties, but even the neediest obligations could not fully distract her from feeling the burning heat of his stare as the Water Pillarâs watched her fiercely from across the courtyard. And nothing, nothing at all could have prepared her for how he eventually joined her in carrying out her duties,Â
The Water Pillar stayed the night once more, departing sharply at daybreak. Later, as Y/N swept the courtyard free of loose brush and clutter long after his departure, she noticed a crow sitting high in a tree, its black eyes watching her every movement. Though its gaze was sharp, the presence of the great, sleek bird did not disturb her, though not as much of a feather twitched from its perch upon the branch as the Miko continued through her day.Â
As sheâd readied for bed later that night, she realized sheâd felt oddly comforted by the crow. She imagined it a silent protector, a new guardian of the Shrine, no different than the statues of the gods which dotted its grounds.Â
She settled into her futon with a great yawn, the image of a certain dark-haired Swordsman flickering in the back of her conscience until she was swept into sleepâs sweet embrace.
Just outside the Shrineâs sleeping quarters, the bird remained, eyes carefully tracking every shift in the shadows, waiting.Â
And then the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, and the threat of night receded once more.
But the crow remained.Â
âââ
Spring, 1915
The crow became a permanent fixture at the Shrine, though it always seemed to keep strictly to a single tree at the edge of the property, one that gave it a full view of the courtyard and structures surrounding the main honden.
Despite the bird's constant presence, more than a month passed before the Water Pillar returned, though he'd seemed even more sullen and withdrawn than he'd been during their previous two encounters. Y/N did not consider herself a friend to Tomioka by any means, but she was the only one brave enough to approach him as he'd lingered by the Torii, apparently unsure whether he should seek out their hospitality or return to the forest.
"You are welcome to come and sit for a hot meal," she called cordially, though she maintained a tentative distance. She frowned when he did not respond. Instead, the Water Pillar continued to stare unseeingly at the cracked stone path leading to the Shrine's courtyard.
"Tomioka-sama?" She pressed gently and the Swordsman's attention finally snapped to her, as though he'd just become aware of her presence.
The haunted look in his eyes sent a chill up her spine. The Miko cast one, cautious glance up at the sky, and her eyes narrowed at the wall of black clouds steadily rolling in from the east. A shift in the wind brought forth the distinct, metallic scent of rain, and if she listened hard enough, she swore she could hear the distant rumbles of thunder. âYou know, there will be a storm tonight â please consider waiting it out here, where itâs safe.â
Tomioka only stared at her for a moment before he nodded. His hand twitched into a vague gesture inviting her to lead the way, and Y/N escorted him to the Shrine's elder, in search of her permission.
Granny Priestess agreed to let him stay, but on the condition he paid for his imposition. The Water Pillar had silently agreed, producing one small money bag from his pocket and placing it squarely in the Priestessâs outstretched, waiting hand.Â
The heft of the bag had made Y/N frown; it seemed a great sum in comparison to their meager lodging offerings, but the Swordsman did not object, so she held her tongue. To comment would only serve to irritate her Master, and the old hag was scornful enough to assign her to duties that would isolate her from the raven-haired Slayer.
Only after the old Priestess sauntered off, leaving behind nothing but the lingering, bitter stench of sake, did the Miko speak again.Â
âIâm glad to see you in good health, Tomioka-sama,â she bowed, though she thought she spied the corner of his mouth twitch down at her formal greeting. âI trust your patrol went smoothly?âÂ
The Water Pillarâs expression was tight; dark. âIt did not. The demon I was tracking managed to get away.â His jaw clenched tight. âBut not before it slaughtered an entire family in the mountains.âÂ
All at once, the world around her seemed to slow. It had been easy to assume the dark-haired Swordsman before her always managed to find his target just in time, before it could slaughter its victim. Now, as she beheld the lethal coldness that had settled over his features, Y/N knew her assumptions had been wrong.Â
Perhaps, she noted with a shudder, her rescue had been the exception and not the rule.Â
Beneath the icy stoicism limning the Water Pillarâs eyes, the shrine maiden noted a distinct heaviness that weighed down his shoulders; made them curl slightly forward, defeated.
She resisted the urge to reach out to him, in comfort. âI wonât offer you empty platitudes,â she murmured. âBut I can invite you to offer your prayers for those who were lost.âÂ
He looked at her, brows drawn, and she knew his instinct was to decline, so she added, âI will do it regardless of whether you join me.â
All at once, any protest he had was snuffed out within him. Instead, he was left with a curious softness as he regarded the shrine maiden, so assured and earnest in her invitation.Â
He didnât know why heâd sought out the Shrine.
Heâs been angry; angry at himself for not being faster, for allowing innocent people to die on his account of his failure.
He still felt angry. Yet, as he followed Y/N into the Shrineâs haiden to light incense, he also felt a solemn gratitude for the Miko, whoâd not let him indulge in his self-loathing but instead requested he act, and act with her.Â
So he had; and somehow, the weight on his chest, the one that threatened to suffocate him, lightened bit by bit until Giyuu felt like he could breathe once more.Â
Later that night, Giyuu spotted the shrine maiden from his window as she darted around the courtyard to light the tĆrĆ to illuminate the Shrine grounds. A deep rumble of thunder, however, signaled the spring storm had finally arrived. Y/N, however, only continued with her task, huddling over herself to strike the matches needed to finish lighting the lanterns as rain began to dampen the landscape around her.
He was about to go outside and demand she return to the warm, dry haven that was the girlsâ sleeping quarters lest she catch a cold, but then the last of the lanterns were lit and the shrine maiden straightened.
And then she tilted her face up toward the sky, allowing the rain to wash over her.Â
And she grinned. And Giyuu was mesmerized; so much so, that he had not stopped staring at where sheâd stood, laughing in the rain, even long after the Miko retired to bed.
-
Y/N awoke well before sunrise the following morning and spent hours laboring over the hot stoves in the kitchen. By the time the sky finally lightened, she'd only just finished her task and was in the process of boxing up her creation when she spotted one of her fellow shrine maidens passing by the entryway.
The Miko called out her name. "Has Lord Tomioka awoken yet?"
Her sister trainee lingered in the doorway. "Oh yes, he's been up for a while," and the girl looked back over her shoulder. âBut he is already on his way out ââ
The Miko swore viciously under her breath as she slammed a lid atop the small bento and hastily wrapped it in the small cloth sheâd swiped from the laundry.Â
âMove,â she barked at a small group of trainees that had gathered in the hallway outside the kitchen. The girls flattened themselves against the wall as Y/N sped by. She hurtled up the stairs, nearly tripping in her haste. Just as she burst into the courtyard from the honden, panting and winded, she spotted him.
âTomioka-sama!â Y/N called, hurrying after the retreating form of the Water Pillar before he could pass through the shrine gates. âI have something for you!âÂ
The raven-haired slayer turned back to her, his face neutral, though Y/N could tell, by the slightest raise of his brow, that sheâd piqued his interest.Â
âThank goodness you hadnât left yet,â the Miko said brightly, holding out a small bundle wrapped in furoshiki cloth. âI was worried this wouldnât be ready before you did.â
Tomiokaâs eyes dropped to the parcel in her hands. âWhat is it?âÂ
Y/N motioned for him to take it, and to her slight surprise he did, holding it slightly in front of him as though it were liable to burst open. âA meal for the road. Granny and I prepared it this morning â as thanks, for everything youâve done.âÂ
But the Water Pillar was already shaking his head, trying to press the package back into the shrine maidenâs hands. âI need no thanks; I do my job, and your shrine happens to be part of it.âÂ
If his words disappointed her, Y/N did not show it. âAnd yet we are grateful all the same,â she said firmly, arms crossing in front of her chest to avoid taking the small bento back. âBesides, itâs salmon; it will only go bad if you donât eat it.âÂ
Had she not been watching him, Y/N would have missed the slight widening of his eyes, or the way his hand twitched back towards himself, bringing the packed lunch closer to him.Â
Cerulean eyes watched her for a long moment, before dropping as Tomioka tucked the bento into his pocket.Â
âThank you,â was all he said before he turned away and continued through the gates of the shrine, setting off on the path which would lead him through the forest.Â
If she hadnât known better, she wouldâve sworn the Water Pillar looked happy as he departed.Â
âââ
The Slayer returned exactly one week after sheâd given him the home-cooked salmon â but he did not return empty-handed. For there, wrapped in the same furoshiki cloth, was a strange, oblong object, sitting in the palm of his hand though if he thought it heavy, Tomioka gave no indication.Â
âWhatâs this?â Y/N leaned curiously over the Pillarâs outstretched hand and squinted, trying to discern what the cloth could have been concealing.Â
Tomioka pushed his hand toward her, beseeching her to take the parcel from him. âA knife.âÂ
The Shrine Maiden looked up at him in alarm, pulling away from the Water Pillar. âWhy on earth would I need a knife?âÂ
He rolled his eyes. âProtection.âÂ
âFrom what?â The Miko wrinkled her nose down at his offering, though there was a mischievous twinkle in her eye. âAs I recall, I walloped you just fine with my broom.â
Tomioka shot her a dull look. âBe that as it may, cleaning tools are useless against demons. Without the sun, the only thing that works against them is decapitation with this â its metal is unique.âÂ
He parted the folds of the cloth to reveal a simple blade, though Y/N found it daunting all the same. The hilt was basic, an unembellished metal handle wrapped in plain black leather. The blade itself was an unassuming silver, slightly longer than her hand.Â
The Slayer motioned for her to take it, though she only shrunk away. âYou know how to use one, yes?âÂ
The Mikoâs eyes met his, wide and anxious. âFor domestic uses, of course, but not ââÂ
Tomiokaâs fingers closed around her wrist and lifted, guiding her hand toward the dagger. His hand moved to cover hers, wrapping them both around the hilt of the blade before squeezing. âGrip it like this,â he held their joined hands up for her to inspect. âKeep your hand in a fist; do not lift your fingers away from the grip â thatâs the best way to injure yourself instead of your target.âÂ
But the shrine maiden could hardly focus on the Pillarâs instructions. Her attention was directed entirely at the way her hand was swallowed by his, his skin warm and his grasp firm. She studied how his calluses â thick and forged from years of brutal sword training â pressed against hers; how, despite the roughness of his fingers and palms, and his solid hold still remained gentle.Â
â-- and thrust like this,â he remained oblivious to her distraction as moved her arm in a sharp jab, a second and then a third time, before dropping her hand. âNow do it yourself.âÂ
His command startled her out of her trance, a heat creeping up her neck from beneath the collar of her kosode. She held out the blade awkwardly before her as scrambled to recall the Water Pillarâs words. To her dismay, all she was able to conjure was the memory of his touch, and how cold she suddenly felt without it.Â
Lamely, she mimed jutting the knife at an invisible enemy, the blade gracelessly wobbling through the air. Though she was by no means a swordsman, even she knew something was off, her movements disjointed and clumsy.
She glanced shyly back to the raven-haired Demon Slayer and deflated as she was met only with bemused resignation.
Tomioka shook his head in disdain. âPerhaps you would fare better with a broom.âÂ
The Miko bristled. âI am not a swordsman ââ
âYouâve made that abundantly apparent.âÂ
ââ and I do not have the basics you seem to take for granted.â She finished, glaring indignantly at her raven-haired companion. âSo teach me.â
The Water Pillar considered her for a moment before he gave her the slightest, almost imperceptible nod of his head.Â
âWatch me.â He turned his body toward the Miko and mimed getting into a defensive stance â feet ajar, his weight evenly distributed on each leg, and bent.Â
He looked back to the Shrine Maiden expectantly, and she parroted his movements, crouching into what she imagined was the perfect mirror of his position.
It wasnât.
âNo â you need toââ Tomioka straightened and huffed, impatient. He moved quickly behind her, and without thinking, his hands shot to grip her hips to guide them into the proper stance, until her weight was evenly distributed on both feet.Â
âLike that â now bend your knees.â The ravenette pushed down on her hips until her legs bent, apparently oblivious to the way the Miko flushed crimson.
He was close; far, far too close. Sheâd never been touched the way the Water Pillar touched her. Tomiokaâs hands were twin brands, burning her skin even through the layers of her shrine attire, and it sent every nerve beneath her skin buzzing.
She was aware of every inch of him pressed against her; of his arms, caging her in, his hands twin brands against her hips as he turned and pulled her into the proper stance. She was aware of how warm he was, of how formidable his presence felt, even though to her, he posed no threat. Every movement of his was precise and fluid, like the water heâd claimed to style his techniques after.
And if his touch wasnât distracting enough, his scent threatened to overwhelm every last bit of sense sheâd clung onto. Y/N didnât know how she hadnât noticed how good he smelled â like mahogany and citrus â so rich and so warm; a stark contrast to his otherwise cold and aloof nature mask.
The swordsman, however, appeared to remain oblivious. âThere,â he finally said, having satisfied that sheâd achieved proper form. For moment, the two of them lingered there, with Tomiokaâs chest against the shrine maidenâs back, his hands remaining steady in place on her hips. It was as though theyâd frozen: Y/N, out of a mixture of shock and red-cheeked embarrassment, and Tomioka out of utter cluelessness.
Another beat passed before the Water Pillar finally realized the compromising nature of their position. His hands dropped quickly from her hips, and there was a rush of air at Y/Nâs back as he swiftly stepped away, putting distance between them once more.Â
The raven-haired Slayer gruffly cleared his throat. âYou should also keep wisteria on you.â And Y/N gulped down her embarrassment to turn back toward him.Â
Tomioka kept his face neutral and cool, but the tips of his ears had turned pink. âCheck your perfumes for it or ask one of the other shrine girls if you can borrow theirs â oil would be better. More concentratedâ
Any residual awkwardness that may have lingered fell quickly away. The Miko only stared blankly at him, her head tilted slightly to the side as her eyebrows pinched together. âPerfume?â
Tomioka blinked. âYes. As all women have.âÂ
It was an effort to fight off the smile twitching at the corners of her lips. âExactly how many women do you know, Tomioka-sama? Such that you would know their perfumery habits, that is.âÂ
His mouth thinned into a firm line. âEnough.âÂ
And though Y/N supposed heâd meant to sound self-assured and confident, the Slayer was betrayed by the slight doubt in his voice, as though heâd been questioning his own answer.Â
The shrine maiden only continued to look at him, her eyebrow slightly raised, amused. The longer the silence stretched between them,the more awkward the ravenette grew, his discomfort plain from the way he shifted under her stare.Â
âYou seem like someone who would use it.â He finally offered, after another moment of quiet.
It was her turn to blink, taken aback. Her smirk quickly slid from her face and with a grimace, she felt her right eye twitch, ever so slightly. âApologies, then, for disappointing you.âÂ
Tomioka frowned and he made like he was going to respond, but the Miko squared her shoulders and stalked briskly past him.Â
âI must return to my duties, and Iâm sure you need to do the same,â she paused in the doorway of the garden hut and cast one, sidelong glance back to where he stood, clueless. âUntil next time, Tomioka-sama. Thank you for the blade.â
With that, the Miko paced briskly away from the garden hut, her spine stiff. The Water Pillar remained in place for a moment, stupefied, before he collected himself once more, before setting off back toward the forest; to his Manor.
And as Giyuu retreated through the rusting Torii gate, he could not quite shake the distinct impression heâd done something wrong, though he knew not what.Â
â
The Water Pillar returned the following week, though to a decidedly cooler greeting than that which heâd steadily grown accustomed to receiving.Â
That wasnât entirely true â the majority of the Shrineâs residents had welcomed him warmly, their kindness always far more than he thought he deserved. Only one hadnât greeted him as enthusiastically as the others, and to his annoyance, that one was the only person whose opinion of him mattered, even if he couldnât quite articulate why.
She hardly stopped to acknowledge his arrival, only gracing him with a brisk nod, though sheâd refused to meet his eyes. Bemused, Giyuu followed her across the courtyard as she made her way to the Shrineâs small storeroom. He leaned against the doorway and watched as the Miko began pulling jars of dried herbs from the rickety shelves lining the walls and stacked them on a sizeable work counter that cut halfway across the room. All the while, she continued pointedly ignoring him, humming lightly under her breath as though she could not see or hear him as he shifted against the doorframe, waiting.
Her obstinate silence grated at him. âMay I assist you?â
âNo, no, I am perfectly fine, thank you.â She turned away to browse the shelves once more, before finding what she needed: a stone mortar and pestle.
The grinder settled against the wooden counter with a heavy thud and the shrine maiden snatched up one of the jars sheâd stacked and dumped its contents into the bowl, followed by another bottle of herbs. Pestle in hand, she set to work grinding the leaves together, mixing in a vial of fragrant oil sheâd kept in her pocket to create a thick paste.
Giyuu watched her quietly as she worked. âYouâreâŠâ he frowned. âYouâre behaving strangely.â
Y/N glanced up at him. âIn what way?âÂ
âYouâre trying to avoid me.âÂ
âAm I?â She straightened, rolling her shoulders. âOnly because Iâve not yet bathed today. I didnât want to risk offending you with my stench.âÂ
Giyuu paused. âWhy would that matter?âÂ
âYou made sure to point out you thought I needed perfume during your last visit.âÂ
He pushed off the doorframe, eyebrows knit together. âFor protection.âÂ
The shrine maiden rolled her eyes. âYes, and apparently, because you believe I am the type to need it.â When Giyuu only continued to stare at her with that same, mildly lost expression, Y/N groaned, exasperated. âYou implied I stink.âÂ
The Water Pillarâs jaw slackened as he gaped at her. âThat is not ââÂ
âIt is what you implied,â she repeated, turning away from him to focus on her task of grinding herbs, though the force with which she ground the pestle was perhaps greater than necessary.
Giyuu rounded the small countertop of the Shrineâs storeroom to face her head-on. âI like how you smell.â He insisted. âItâs nice.âÂ
The Mikoâs irritated churning of the stone paused and her eyes finally lifted to his. For a long moment, she watched him, head slightly cocked.Â
âYou are very odd, Tomioka-sama.âÂ
But she said it with a small smile that he almost wanted to return.Â
Before long, things between them returned to normal once more, with the Miko directing him to collect her gathering basket from where sheâd left it in the Shrineâs infirmary and bring it to her. Once he returned, he helped her grind charcoal to make incense sticks as she chatted happily away.Â
Surprisingly, Giyuu found himself not only engaged in her musings about daily life at the Shrine, but offering her small personal anecdotes of his own, though he was not nearly as proficient as she when it came to story-telling. Â
Once the sun began setting once more, and he received no new orders from Headquarters, he simply sought out the Shrineâs head Priestess and silently passed her a small money bag.Â
And then Giyuu retired to the guestâs quarters for the night.Â
â--
As spring warmed into summer, the Water Pillar began making bi-weekly visits to the Shrine that quickly melted into habit; expectation. Once a fortnight, a thrill would settle over the young maidens in anticipation of the arrival of the stoic yet handsome Slayer, with girls of all ages eagerly looking toward the Shrine gates in hopes of spying him the moment he crossed beneath the Torii. The elder employees of the Shrine had learned to time Tomiokaâs arrival by listening for their excited gasps, exhaled as a collective as brooms and rices sacks were dropped where their handlers stood, the girls far too interested in rushing to greet the exalted Slayer than they were in completing their tasks.Â
âI do not see the reason for such excitement,â she sniffed, though even she wasnât stupid enough to think her fellow trainees bought her bluff. âHe is only a swordsman.âÂ
âA handsome one,â a wispy trainee named Miyoko sighed dreamily. âAnd no doubt strong and capable.â
The group of maidens dissolved into another fit of giggles, concealing their blushes behind their hands.
âHis face is attractive, but his hair is odd,â another commented. âIt looks like heâs hacked at it with his own blade.âÂ
âOh, who cares about his hair? Iâm far more interested in whatâs beneath that uniform ââ
âEnough,â Y/N snapped. While her friendship with the Water Pillar was tenuous at best, the suggestive way her sisters-in-training spoke of him left her feeling decidedly discomforted.
Though, if she were honest with herself, sheâd admit that she, too, wondered whether Tomiokaâs strength was the product of a finely-hewn tuned physique. But she wasnât, so she bottled that thought up and tucked it tightly away, where it belonged.Â
Slowly, her cohorts all turned to look at her.
âYou seem to spend a great deal of time with him, Sister,â Miyoko directed at Y/N, who felt her cheeks heat. âIs there anything youâd like to share?â
âTomioka-sama always asks where Sister Y/N is, the moment he arrives!â A tiny voice chimed, and Y/Nâs eyes slid shut in an effort to fight off a wince. âSometimes they even do chores by themselves!â
Komatsu. At only ten, she was the Shrineâs youngest trainee, and followed Y/N around like a shadow. Not that the shrine maiden minded all that much; she tended to spoil the girl a bit, when she could. But as pure as the girlâs intentions surely were, sheâd yet to lose that childlike earnestness that made her prone to revealing information that Y/N rather remained a secret.Â
âAlone with a man?â Miyoko repeated, her eyes shining with malicious glee. âHow scandalous â even for someone without a family to embarass, dear Y/N.â
âCareful, Miyoko,â she warned softly. âDonât go speaking on matters of which you know nothing.âÂ
âOr what? What would you do?âÂ
As fond as Y/N was of her sisters-in-training, one did not make it through the Shrineâs rigorous education and training without learning how to trade in the kind of currency young women valued most.
Information; specifically, gossip.Â
So the shrine maiden only leveled Miyokoâs own smug smirk with one of her own. âOr I shall tell Granny how you spend your afternoons kissing the boys from the village, rather than tending to your lessons.âÂ
The other girls gasped, their stares turning back to the gossiping shrine maiden. She savored how quickly the girlâs prideful grin slipped from her face as the weight of the threat settled.Â
While Y/N, parentless and thus without anyone to truly care about her propriety, was being primed to take over Granny Priestessâs position overseeing the shrine, her position was unique. She was parentless and thus, without anyone to truly care about her propriety or whatever other ridiculous expectations of modesty that were often attached to other young women her age. In being no one, Y/N was relatively free to do as she pleased, and that freedom almost made up for her lack of belonging.
But the other girls residing at the Shrine were different. Families across the region sent their daughters to the Shrine for training, not only in their cultural practices and arts, but also for education; to become well-rounded women who would then serve to be valuable marriage prospects once they returned home.Â
Scandal would not affect her; but it would affect someone like Miyoko.
âHow do you think your parents would feel, to know their heir was behaving so brazenly in public? Risking her reputation on the marriage market before sheâs even entered it?â
Truthfully, she liked Miyoko; had gotten along well with her, in fact. But she would not risk those sacred few moments she spent with the Water Pillar in an effort to keep the peace with another trainee. Not when those few instances she spent in his company were the only times sheâd felt connection â true, human connection and belonging.Â
Her sister-in-training ruefully fell silent, and Y/N savored her victory. Later, when she was left with nothing but the company of her own thoughts, however, the exchange played back in her mind.
In all her posturing, sheâd managed to avoid having to answer for Miyokoâs lofty observation.Â
You seem to spend a great deal of time with him, Sister.Â
She did; and, to her slight horror, she realized that she had no interest in stopping.Â
She only wanted more.
â
It was past dawn when Giyuu trudged under the great Torii gate of the Shrine, exhausted and aching.Â
It had been a long while since a demon was last capable of wounding him, but heâd been blown backward by a delayed attack that hit after heâd beheaded the damn thing. As a result, heâd been sent flying back, slamming through a dilapidated wall of the abandoned hut heâd tracked the creature to, resulting in a sizeable gash to his shoulder.Â
He grit his teeth in mild annoyance. He would need some treatment of his wounds â not that they were deep by any means, but they were substantial enough that he knew infection could spell trouble for him, should it spread.Â
Some small, irate voice in his head snidely reminded him he could have just as easily gone to the Butterfly Mansion for treatment â that, in fact, the Insect Pillarâs estate had been much closer to the location of his mission than the Shrine had been. Heâd rationed that, as much as he admired and respected Kocho, he was still a bit raw from her mocking about how unliked he truly was among his comrades.Â
Besides, he groused. Kocho was not the one he really wanted to see, anyway.Â
He found Y/N in the Shrineâs storeroom, seated upon the floor with a detailed ledger spread out before her as she took inventory of various scrolls and texts.
Giyuu did not bother to announce himself. âYou have medical training, do you not?â Â
The Miko startled, the charcoal stick sheâd been using to tally the ledger clattering to the floor. She blinked up at him in surprise. âTomioka-sama â welcome, itâs been a few weeks â forgive me, I did not see you come in.â She quickly rose to her feet, shutting the store ledger and tucking it under her arm.Â
Her eyes found the blood-stained shoulder of his hair and widened. âI have some; I can stitch and dress wounds ââ
He nodded. âThen I require your assistance.âÂ
â-
Y/N led him to a small office inside the honden that served as the Shrineâs unofficial infirmary. âTake a seat,â she nodded at a small stool that sat under the roomâs solitary window, right by a modest working table. âLet me see what we have.âÂ
Tomioka sat upon the stool with his back to her as she busied herself sifting through cupboards in search of supplies. âWhat sort of wound is it?â
She turned back and nearly dropped a tin of medicinal salve sheâd located as she beheld the Water Pillar strip himself of his clothing from the waist up.Â
There, across his right shoulder blade, she saw it â saw his blood. Quickly, she located thread and a needle and she grabbed a roll of cloth that could double as wrappings and she crossed back across the room. Â
She spread her bounty out across the table, right beside the neatly folded pile of his clothing. Silently, she set to work cleaning the gash, and she breathed a quiet sigh of relief when she saw that it was little more than a shallow flesh wound.
âLucky you, this wonât need stitching,â she said lightly as she wiped away the last of the dried blood from the Water Pillarâs skin. âBut I shall need to wrap it so it wonât become infected.â
Tomioka only gave her a curt nod. She stepped back to work open her tin of medical salve, and as she warmed the substance in her hands, she let herself fully examine the Swordsman sitting before her. Her eyes trailed over the sculpted planes of his back. It surprised her how muscular he was, given his leanness. Yet, without the layers of his uniform shirt and haori, she could see he was well-built, each muscle defined.Â
She didnât know why it surprised her that there was a man beneath the mask of the Slayer, but what a man he was. Her mouth went dry at the thought. It was an effort not to allow her eyes to wander lower; to ponder what he might look like under his uniform pants, stripped and fully bare before her âÂ
âWhat is that scent?â Tomiokaâs sudden question startled her away from her increasingly treacherous thoughts.Â
Sheâd never been more grateful to be facing away from him. That way, he could not see the blush coloring her cheeks as she hastily slathered the salve across his wound. âAnti-septic; I know itâs rather stringent, but â â
The Water Pillar shook his head. âI know what antiseptic smells like. I mean you. The scent you wear.âÂ
She pursed her lips for a moment before she recalled the distinctly floral scent of her cleansing oils. âSakaki blooms, I suppose.â
âWhat properties does it have â what are its effects on others?â He pressed. She was surprised at how insistent he seemed, and there was almost an urgency in his tone that unsettled her.Â
âNone, to my knowledge â why do you ask?â
The tips of Tomiokaâs ears turned pink and he turned away from her, lips pressed into a firm line. âForget I said anything.â he muttered after a moment, his shoulders and spine stiff.
Neither one of them spoke again as Y/N finished treating the Water Pillarâs injury and wrapped it.Â
âYou're done,â she said after a moment, tapping him lightly on his other shoulder.Â
âYou have my thanks,â Tomioka quickly refastened the buttons of his uniform shirt as the Miko stepped aside, pointedly wiping her hands clean with a small cloth. She only looked at him once he lifted his haori from where heâd carefully laid it atop the small examination table, but her eyes narrowed as he rose from the stool, shrugging the material back over his shoulders. âI am happy to pay you for the resources you used ââÂ
Y/N did not appear to be listening, not as she leaned forward and pinched the sleeve of his haori between her thumb and index finger.Â
âYou have a tear,â she frowned, rubbing the fabric between her fingers. âRight here, see?âÂ
There, on the side bearing his sisterâs half of his haori, right where his sleeve met his shoulder, was indeed a small hole, the threads around it broken and shifting slightly in the wind.Â
The Mikoâs hand fell away, and she squared her shoulders, mouth set in a firm but determined line. âIf youâll give me a moment, I assure you I can have it repaired in no time ââÂ
âNot necessary,â the Swordsman said abruptly, twisting back from her. âI can figure it out on my own.â He would not part with it, would not so much as let another put their hands on it and risk ruining his most cherished possession.Â
Y/N only stepped toward him, ignoring his attempt at distance. âThereâs no need to be prideful,â she huffed impatiently. âTruly, it would take no effort at all ââ
âNo.â
âWhy are you being so difficult?â She snapped, but her hands continued reaching for him, for his sleeve âÂ
Tomioka snatched her wrist mid-air and held it there, halting her. âNo one touches this. Understand?âÂ
Y/Nâs lips parted in faint surprise at the Water Pillarâs severity. Her eyes darted to where his fingers were locked tight â uncomfortably tight â around her wrist. When she glanced back at the stone-faced Slayer, she felt a chill lick down her spine. Sheâd known he could be intimidating against threats, even without saying a word. It was his eyes â his eyes would harden, with the lapiz hue of his irises darkening to something more akin to indigo, as he stared down an opponent. Sheâd witnessed it the very first night sheâd met him.Â
She just hadnât thought she would ever be on the receiving end of such a cold glare.Â
âI understand,â she said softly, and she began flexing her wrist against his grip in an effort to work herself free from his hold. âPlease forgive my indiscretion, Tomioka-sama. I overstepped.âÂ
The raven-haired Slayer blinked and quickly let her go, her wrist falling limply back to her side. Just outside the infirmaryâs small window, he heard the familiar, urgent cry of a crow.
Heâd never been more grateful for a distraction. âI must be on my way.â His tone was stiff; clipped.Â
âBut â youâve only just arrived ââÂ
âFarewell, Y/N.â Giyuu gave her a curt nod.
Helplessly, the Miko watched as the Water Pillar stalked out of the small office, his hands curled into fists at his sides. He did not so much as spare a glance back, leaving Y/N to wonder whether she would see that odd patterned haori again.
The thought she might not made something cold and heavy sink into her gut.
â-
(One week later)
It wasnât often that Giyuu Tomioka found himself annoyed, much less angry. He much preferred channeling his existing emotions into slaying demons, allowing them to taste a fraction of the rage and hatred he felt deep within, a vicious fire he so rarely let bubble up to his service.
Until that evening. After the fiasco that was Mount Natagumo and the subsequent chaos at the Masterâs mansion as a result of the Kamado boy and his demon sister, Giyuu had finally noticed that the previous dayâs trials had resulted in the tear along the shoulder of his haori that he knew could no longer be ignored.Â
He grit his teeth; the battle against the Lower Moon spider demon had hardly required him to exert any energy â yet the demonâs last ditch attempt to preserve its life had managed to enlarge the small hole in his most prized possession, and the Water Pillar was utterly without the skill to repair it.Â
So, heâd been forced to sit through the meeting with the Master, the hole in his haori feeling more like a gaping wound that only festered with every passing moment, until finally, finally theyâd been dismissed.Â
Giyuu hadnât wasted any time departing swiftly from his Masterâs estate, though that hadnât stopped him from catching the tail end of Shinazugawaâs biting remark of how fuckinâ typical it was for him to leave without so much as a farewell to his comrades. He tried not to let the Wind Pillarâs words get to him; but he was unworthy of their company regardless, so he supposed it really didnât matter what they thought of him. It shouldnât.Â
And so, that was how Giyuu found himself padding silently along the cracked, stone pathway which led to the Shrine at the edge of his designated territory, ready to eat crow and ask for assistance from a particular Miko whom he felt certain would not hesitate to remind him of how heâd coolly rejected her help only days earlier.Â
Hence, his irritation.Â
So, his movements stiff and his mouth twisted into a firm grimace, Giyuu stalked under the Torii and into the main courtyard of the old Shrine. It was coming upon midday, though there was a thick cover of clouds overhead that threatened that open up at any moment and shower rain across the region. He ignored the respectful bows of the Shrineâs various inhabitants and staff, eyes sweeping over faces in search of her.Â
He located her near the storehouse, chatting with one of her fellow trainees as the pair worked to clean vegetables. Giyuu trudged over to her, eyes locked unwaveringly on her serene, easy smile, as he tried to ignore the way it made something in his gut clench and churn.Â
He drew to a stop right before her and her Shrine-sister, the latter looking up at him with wide eyes, her hands stilling over her work as she looked up to the Slayer in awe.Â
Giyuu cleared his throat but Y/N only continued wiping the dirt from carrots with her cloth.Â
The ravenette tried again. âI am in need of your assistance.âÂ
Y/Nâs comrade nudged her with her elbow, but the Miko only continued to clean, pointedly ignoring them both.Â
Giyuu pursed his lips. âWith my haori. The tear has grown larger ââ
âI am busy.â Y/Nâs tone was clipped. âPerhaps there are others who might assist you.â
âPlease.âÂ
The Shrine Maidenâs hands finally stilled and she lifted her chin to face him. The moment she beheld the pleading sincerity in his eyes, coupled with the hard set of his jaw that betrayed just how desperate he was, her gaze softened.
She sighed. âVery well then,â she rose, brushing her hands free of any residual dirt. She held her chin high and squared her shoulders, determined not to show him how heâd bruised her ego; how heâd frightened her. âFollow me.â
â
The Shrine sat at the base of a great mountain. But, nearly half a kilometer up the winding, twisting path leading up the mountain and carved into its side, was a grassy hilltop that then plateaued into a small overlook that boasted a phenomenal aerial view of the Shrine below.Â
The summer grass had turned a vibrant shade of emerald, broken up only by dots of tiny white and blue wildflowers that had gathered in small clusters sprinkled throughout the overlook. At the back of the clearing stood an ancient willow tree, its trunk gnarled and knotted with age, its wisps swaying lazily in the wind.  Â
It was her favorite spot; a little ways away from the hustle and bustle of the Shrine, which meant they would have some privacy as she worked. Y/N settled down against the grass and pulled a needle and a spool of thread from her pocket. She turned her face up toward the Water Pillar where he stood over her. âIâll take that haori, now, if youâll please.âÂ
Wordlessly, Tomioka carefully slid the garment from his shoulders and handed it to her, though he hesitated in letting go as she took it gingerly into her hands.Â
It was clearly very important to the Slayer, and perhaps that was why she felt the need to reassure him. âI promise to take care of it.â
He nodded stiffly and let go of the fabric and the Miko quickly set to work repairing its torn shoulder. The Water Pillar lingered awkwardly beside her for a moment longer before he too, sat in the grass next to her, though his back remained straight, his posture rigid.
She glanced at him as her needle wove the haoriâs fabric back together. âI suppose this happened because of your occupation?âÂ
It was faint, but the shrine maiden swore she saw his mouth twitch into something reminiscent of a grimace. âYes.â
âYou should be lucky it wasnât your flesh.â
At that, Tomioka scoffed. âI would not allow such a weakling to get close enough to try.â
âMy, Iâd not pegged you as the boastful sort, Tomioka-sama.â
âItâs not boasting; I speak only the truth.â He retorted evenly.Â
The shrine maiden only hummed as she worked. âAnd what of your family? Do they support your path as a Slayer?â
The Water Pillar turned his head away, his form stiff. For a moment, the Miko feared she would be left to repair his haori in silence, with nothing but the faint whistling of birds to keep her company.Â
âI have none,â Tomiokaâs voice was soft, nearly swallowed by the wind. âThere is no one left to object, even if they wanted to.â
Y/Nâs hands paused their work as she thought. âYou are alone?â
It would be nice, she supposed, to find another who, like her, belonged to no one; a kindred spirit of sorts.
âI suppose,â Tomioka spoke up after a moment, his eyes squinted in thought. âI have a mentor. But it was he who trained me to join the Corps.âÂ
âI should hope heâs more sober than mine,â Y/N drawled. âAnd less irritating.âÂ
The Mikoâs attention was so fixed on her careful stitching along the hole in his haori, that she didnât see his faint smile at her words.Â
ââ
The Slayer and the shrine maiden continued talking long after sheâd finished repairing the tear in his haori. It was only when Tomioka had realized nightfall was a mere hour away that the two reluctantly descended the hillside to return to the Shrine.
âI almost forgot.â The Water Pillar said, halting in front of the honden as Y/N escorted him back to the Shrineâs entrance. He dug into his pockets and pulled something free. âHere. For you.âÂ
The Miko gaped down at the fat red fruit that sat heavily in his palm. âThis is -â she said breathlessly, âA pomegranate!âÂ
He nodded, arm still outstretched towards her as he waited to drop the ruby fruit into her hand.Â
She shook her head. âNo, Tomioka-san, I cannot accept something so expensive-â
âI insist.â The Water Pillar withdrew a small knife and split the fruit in half, staining his hands crimson with the juice that spilled over its soft flesh.
Hesitantly, the young Miko accepted the half he offered her, and thumbed some of the fat, glistening jewels loose. The moment she brought them to her lips, Y/N sighed, contentedly, and for some reason, Giyuu found his cheeks heating as he watched her savor the sweet fruit.Â
She lazily opened her eyes after swallowing her first mouthful, but she was startled to see the Hashira staring at her, unwaveringly, and she realized heâd moved closer towards her than he had been only seconds earlier.Â
Tomiokaâs azure eyes were fixed hard on her lips, as he leaned in close to her, Y/N flushing as he drew nearer.Â
Is he going to kiss me? Her traitorous heart thundered at the idea, and it caused her no short amount of grief to know she was uncertain whether she wanted him to do so. As her emotions warred with her logic, the Water Pillarâs gentle fingers cupped under her chin, and his thumb brushed delicately across her lower lip.Â
âPomegranate juice,â he said, but Y/N could still feel the warmth of his breath still as his hand lingered under her chin. His eyes were wide as though he, too, could not believe what heâd just done.Â
âYes,â she breathed, before she felt her cheeks heat. âI â I mean, thank you.â
The Water Pillarâs gaze dropped to her lips and her stomach twisted violently. All at once, awareness seemed to come crashing down upon him, and he then stepped back, his hand falling from its hold on her face and back to his side.
The shrine maiden remained frozen in place for a heartbeat longer. âAre you certain youâre unable to be our guest tonight?â Her voice was little more than a pitiful squeak.
Her eyes lifted to his and she knew the answer before he spoke it. âI cannot,â and to her surprise, he almost looked as disappointed as she felt, but he added hastily, âBut I will be back. Soon.â
âSoon,â she echoed, feeling rather dazed. âYes. Of course. I â we â look forward to it.â
She was thankful that Tomioka had already turned away from her as he made his way down the long, winding steps that led to the main route out of the forest; that way, he could not see the way her cheeks burned crimson, or how she buried her face in her hands as she cursed her own embarrassment.
â
Giyuu was grateful his back was to the young Miko as he retreated through the Shrineâs gates and back to the path which would lead him home. It meant she could not see as he stared at his thumb â the thumb heâd used to clear away the small bead of pomegranate juice from her lips â or how his eyebrows pinched together. It meant she could not hear his heart as it beat wildly in his chest at the memory of how soft and full her lip had been beneath the pad of his thumb, soft enough that some treacherous part of his brain had urged him to lean in, to see if her lips would feel as good against his âÂ
He shook his head, trying desperately to dispel his wild intrusive thoughts. It was ludicrous; he did not think of the young shrine maiden in that way. Not when she frequently sought to needle him, not when she frustrated him to no end.Â
His collar suddenly felt tight; his skin, far too hot. His gaze dropped back down to the hand that had touched her, and it clenched.Â
A pomegranate. It was only a pomegranate; nothing more.Â
âIt was a thank you gift,â Giyuu declared, as though speaking the words out loud gave them more force. âIt is nothing more than an expression of gratitude.â
And even his crow, ancient and dull as he was, scoffed at the obviousness of the lie.
ââ
Late Summer, 1915
Summer blazed hot and humid. But neither the sweltering heat of the sun nor the most arduous missions he took exhausted Giyuu more than the complicated, tangled mess of feelings that had taken root within him. Because with every day that passed, the Miko of the Shrine at the edge of the forest occupied more and more of his mind. And Giyuu did not know what it meant or what he should do about it.Â
Sheâd not just repaired his haori or made him salmon; sheâd somehow wormed her way into his every waking thought, and to his great confusion, he found himself almost unwilling to think of anything but her.Â
Admittedly, Giyuu Tomioka did not have the requisite tools in his social arsenal to successfully navigate human interaction. He hadnât quite known the extent of his ineptitude however, until the Insect Pillar had so cheerfully pointed out that none of his comrades, in fact, liked him. That revelation had made him doubt every interaction heâd had since, made him wonder whether even the lower ranked Slayers viewed him with the same apathy, if not the same outright hostility toward him shared by Shinazugawa and Iguro.
Heâd come to doubt them all â except her.
Y/N was different; at the end of each visit to the Shrine, the Water Pillar did not find himself feeling drained or unwanted.  He felt lighter; rejuvenated, even. She was a breath of fresh air that Giyuu found more difficult to go without with each passing day.Â
She still picked at him, but she did so without the malice heâd normally come to expect, even from those he considered friends, like the Kocho. The young Miko had a way of teasing him that did not leave him feeling decidedly othered. Rather, her japes only spurred him to respond with his own, though admittedly, they tended to fall flat.
Heâd known, from the moment sheâd attempted to bludgeon him with her broom, that there was more to the Miko than met the eye; but he hadnât imagined heâd find himself as drawn to her as he was, unable to tolerate going more than a handful of weeks without paying her a visit.
And, given the way sheâd blushed after heâd thanked her for repairing his haori, perhaps she was drawn to him, too. Perhaps he hoped she was.
But he would have to wait to find out, for his obligations to the Corps had taken him to a village a considerable distance away from his designated territory. Heâd been tasked with investigating a series of disappearances of young women in the region, but his orders had come abruptly enough that heâd not been able to spare a visit to the Shrine before he departed.
He was anxious â eager â to return, though not before he took care of the demon likely behind the mystery plaguing the village he now patrolled.
Nightfall was still a little ways off, and so Giyuu found himself wandering the streets to pass the time. He made his way to a sizeable outdoor market, still packed with shoppers oohing and ahhing over vibrant displays of silk, crafted jewelry, and sugary confectioneries.
Idly, he too, joined other patrons in browsing the small vending stands that lined the bustling village streets, though his perusal was disinterested, if not bored. But his eyes snagged on one small bauble displayed on the merchantâs small stand upon a swath of silk. It was small; unassuming. But the carefully crafted decoration was painted in a startling shade of crimson that he found hard to ignore.Â
The image of a certain Miko flashed through his mind. He couldnât leave without it. he wouldnât; not when its paint so perfectly matched the color of Y/Nâs hakama trousers.
I spend the year longing for autumn. That was what sheâd told him, that day on the hillside after sheâd repaired his haori.Â
He almost smiled to himself. This would be a way for her to enjoy her favorite season even in the scorching heat of summer or the biting cold of winter.Â
He waited for the merchant to notice his presence, his fingers twisting around the small money sack he kept tucked in his pocket. His eyes flickered back to the small trinket. Idly, Giyuu wondered when heâd begun associating the color red with the shrine maiden and not with the blood heâd always imagined stained his hands.Â
He continued to stare the merchant down until he finally managed to catch the vendorâs eye, who flinched at the intensity of his unblinking stare.  Â
Giyuu jutted his chin toward the small token. âHow much?âÂ
â-
He found the Miko a few mornings later, relaxing on the hillside overlooking the Shrine. She laid amongst the late summer wildflowers that had bloomed, her form framed against the grass with petals of soft blue and bright marigold.Â
Giyuu wordlessly settled beside her, and he tried to ignore the thunderous beat of his heart against his sternum as she rolled her head toward him to greet him with a sleepy smile. They exchanged pleasantries and settled into a comfortable silence, both content to watch the sun rise higher over the horizon.
Easy; it was so easy for him to sit beside her, like it was the most natural thing in the world.Â
âSo, you are to take over the Shrine, one day?â
Y/Nâs head turned to the Water Pillar in surprise; though heâd grown steadily more talkative over the months since sheâd met him, it wasnât often that he initiated conversation.Â
She settled back against the cool grass of the hilltop overlooking the Shrine, enjoying the precious few moments of quiet in the early morning before the chaos of the day called her away. âYes,â though there was a slight uncertainty in her voice. âIâm sure itâs the expectation, after all. I have to repay Granny for her kindness.â
Giyuu frowned. âBut is that what you want?â
âWhat I want is irrelevant,â the Miko folded her arms behind her head and tilted her face up toward the sky. Her eyes tracked the great, fluffy clouds that drifted lazily by, though the Water Pillar suspected she was attempting to avoid having to meet his eye.Â
âItâs not irrelevant,â he countered. âIf nothing else, you should be allowed to consider other possibilities.â
She did not answer him, and the silence between them stretched enough that he thought to drop the subject, not wanting to press her any further.Â
âI think,â she said in that faraway voice that Giyuu had come to learn meant she was trying to conceal some deeply felt emotion. âI think should like to belong somewhere.â Her eyes shone. âNo, thatâs not it â I want someone to belong to me, and I to them.Â
âA husband.â He said flatly.Â
The Miko shook her head. âI have never belonged to anywhere or to anyone. Iâve no family to call my own - only an old woman who took pity on me as an infant and raised me. I wonder â what must it be like?â She laid back on the grass and closed her eyes. âThat is the one thing I would change. I belong nowhere because Iâm no one â nobodyâs.âÂ
Giyuu frowned. âI donât think thatâs trueââ
âIt is true,â she insisted, though she said it with such ease and conviction, like it was the most obvious and natural thing in the world. âI am here for a moment and then I will be gone, and no one will ever know or remember that there once was a shrine maiden named Y/N here. Iâve made peace with that.â
I would, Giyuu wanted to tell her. I would remember and I would tell them all.Â
âI am nobody as well,â Giyuu admitted quietly after a moment. âAnd I have no one left to belong to.âÂ
The image of her face, so kind and sad and full of understanding at his words, had stayed with him for the rest of the morning and even as he settled in for a few hours of sleep in the Shrineâs guest wing. Â
And in his dreams, her face remained a constant.
â
The sky had turned a vivid shade of orange by the time the Water Pillar emerged from his guest lodgings, ready to depart and resume his duties. Y/N had been helping another shrine maiden tote firewood across the courtyard when she heard a quiet call of her name.
She turned and saw the raven-haired Swordsman standing near the great Torii gate.Â
She looked back to her fellow trainee, who waved her off with a knowing smile, and Y/N brushed her hands clean against her hakama pants before she approached him.Â
âLeaving so soon?â And she tried to mask her disappointment at the shortness of his visit.Â
Giyuu nodded. âWeâve been stretched thin, in light of a fewâŠchanges to our ranks.â
The Miko nodded grimly. Heâd told her that a fellow Hashira had been slain a few months prior, and another had retired following a rather violent battle that had destroyed part of a far off city.
âBut I wanted to give you this.â
She glanced down to his outstretched hand, where a small parcel was wrapped in plain furoshiki cloth. Stunned, she took the package from him, her eyes flicking between it and the Water Pillar watching her intently.
Gingerly, she unfolded the bundle and unveiled a long, but fragile metal and wood reed.
A hairpin, she realized with a soft gasp. Y/N could scarcely bring her fingers to run over the exquisitely crafted ridges of the leaves that adorned the top portion of the pin, afraid that even the slightest pressure from her touch would cause the Water Pillarâs precious gift to her to crumble.Â
I spend the year longing for autumn, sheâd told him. She hadnât thought heâd been particularly interested in listening to her talk; but as Y/N cradled the delicate ornament between her palms, she felt a blush begin to creep across her cheeks.Â
As her fingers traced across the delicate ridges of a cluster of maple leaves, lacquered in a thick coat of scarlet paint â a perfect match to the hue of her traditional Miko hakama pants â Y/N realized that perhaps Tomioka had been paying more attention to her than sheâd realized.Â
For the Water Pillar had given her a piece of autumn to hold onto year-round.Â
âTomioka-san, you do not-âÂ
âGiyuu.â The ravenette interrupted her. âPlease, call me by my name; itâs Giyuu.âÂ
Y/Nâs mouth closed, but she smiled softly, considering. âAlright. Giyuu â please, you do not need to feel obligated to bring gifts for us â it was only salmon.âÂ
But Giyuu only shook his head. âI donât bring gifts for everyone; just you.âÂ
Y/N turned scarlet.Â
âPlease, just-â Giyuu frowned, and Y/N could have sworn she saw the faintest glow of pink coloring the Hashiraâs cheeks. âJust take it.âÂ
âOkay,â her voice resembled a mouseâs squeak as she cradled the pin delicately between her hands. âThank you. Itâs beautiful.âÂ
âAnd it wasnât just salmon.âÂ
Y/N looked to him in surprise, her head cocked in curiosity. âPardon?âÂ
Giyuu exhaled harshly through his nose before stepping closer to her. âThis is not only because you made salmon.â Her eyes tracked his hand as it rose to grip the front fold of his haori in his fist. âThis â this is all I have left of my family.âÂ
âMy sister,â he gestured to the red half of his haori. âShe died protecting me.â His hand drifted to the green and orange patterned half of the garment. âAnd this belonged to a dear friend. He also perished protecting me â and others.â
The Mikoâs lips parted, understanding and sorrow flooding her eyes. âTomioka-san â Giyuu â I had no idea ââ
âThey both died because of demons â because I could not help them. And now this is all I have left to remember them by.â And then he did the unthinkable; he grabbed her hand and pressed it against the checkered portion of his haori, right over his heart. His hand was warm and firm. Gentle, though she could feel his callouses against her knuckles as he held it in place. âSo it wasnât just salmon.â He repeated, and there was a heat in his eyes Y/N had not seen before, one that stoked a fire in her belly. âAnd you are not just anyone.âÂ
A soft exhale blew past her lips at the sincerity of his words. For the first time in all her nineteen years, she wondered if this was what it meant to mean something to someone.
âThank you,â she breathed, eyes wide and sparkling with unshed emotion. âI will treasure it.â
She swore she saw a faint blush creep across the Water Pillarâs cheeks, but she brushed it aside as nothing more than the shadows of the sky as twilight darkened the horizon.Â
Tomioka nodded. âI must get going now; I will see you soon.â
She did not want him to go.
But the shrine maiden concealed the pang she felt in her chest with a breezy smile. âFarewell, Tomio-â
âGiyuu.âÂ
She blushed. âYes â Giyuu. Until next time.â
â
âI cannot believe he lets the old woman charge him an arm and a leg to stay a single night,â Miyoko said in awe as the pair watched the retreating form of the Water Pillar through the shrine house gates.Â
The hairpin clutched tightly in her hands suddenly felt like a stone weight. âIâm sure he stays here only for convenienceâs sake,â Y/N replied airily, turning sharply away from the egress to the shrine to hide her warming cheeks. Â
Miyoko snorted. âHardly. The Demon Slayer Corps has tons of safehouses throughout the country. Corps members get medical treatment, hot meals, and lodging free of charge.â Y/Nâs sister-in-training grunted as she heaved a hefty bag of rice flour from the storeroom to the girlsâ side, no doubt hauling it out to prepare the evening meal.Â
âIâve heard of at least four such houses in this region alone. As a Hashira, Tomioka-sama could go to any one of them and be treated far more kindly than he is here.âÂ
Y/N frowned. âI wonder why, then, he continues to return here so often? Surely our shrine is some distance from his home, given that he stays the night each time.âÂ
Miyoko shot the young shrine maiden a knowing glance. âPerhaps he tolerates the Grannyâs abuse because he is fond of the company.âÂ
Y/N only felt her face grow hotter as she ducked down, though she felt Miyokoâs amused stare burn through her back.Â
â-
The Water Pillar had returned from his intel assignment and promptly journeyed to the Shrine, its inhabitants abuzz as they prepared for the arrival of autumn and the colder months, now only mere weeks away.Â
He found the shrine maiden of his interest inside the main wing of the manor, back in the kitchen as she prepared herbs to be incorporated into various salves and medications. Y/N smiled brightly at him as heâd sidled up beside her, taking a handful of dried greenery from the bunch next to her and deftly pulling the leaves from the stem and handing them to her.Â
âIs it your day off?â The Miko gratefully accepted the leaves heâd stripped and dumped them into the rocky mortar to join the others.Â
Giyuu felt his stomach clench as his fingers brushed against hers. âI have completed my duties for the time being, yes.â
"You're welcome to help me, as long as you do not mind a bit of busy work."
He didn't; of course he didn't. In fact, as he accepted the heavy stone pestle from the Miko and set to work mashing the leaves she handed them into the mortar, Giyuu rather supposed he would do just about anything to remain in the shrine maiden's company, even if that meant assisting her in a task as banal as grinding medicinal herbs. And though the Slayer and the Miko fell into their well-practiced habit of quietly tending to Y/N's duties side by side, there was a notable absence of the bright chatter he'd grown accustomed to hearing during his visits.
The Water Pillar frowned. âYouâre quiet.â It was not a question. âThere is something on your mind.âÂ
âIs there?â Y/N hummed loftily, her hands continuing to strip leaves from their stems. âPerhaps I am simply focused.âÂ
Giyuu found his eyes wandering to the side to study the Mikoâs face more often than usual. Though she maintained a pleasant smile as they worked, he could see that it did not fully reach her eyes. And even her sage expression could not conceal the way the troubled look in her eyes, hands pausing their work as she stared at something behind the walls of the small shrine kitchen.Â
âSomething is bothering you.â Giyuu took the bundle of herbs clutched in her hands and replaced them with his pestle, allowing her to work her frustrations over the paste forming at the bottom of the stone bowl.Â
She blushed and refocused her gaze, grinding the pestle hard. âNothing is wrong!â She chirped.Â
âYou are a dreadful liar.â
The Miko replied with an airy laugh that made his throat tighten. âSo Iâve been told â often, in fact.âÂ
âThere isâŠtrouble in the village,â Y/N said carefully, though she kept her hands busy as she continued to grind herbs into a thick paste. âIt is nothing we canât handle, but it has put many of us on edge. Particularly Granny.âÂ
Giyuu frowned as he handed the shrine maiden another bunch of leaves from her basket. âWhat sort of trouble?âÂ
She hesitated. âIt is petty village drama, nothing more.â
âYou wonât give any further details?âÂ
The Water Pillar could not explain it, but he found himself troubled by the way the Shrine Maiden forced a smile and a far too casual shrug of her shoulders. âThere are none worth re-hashing.âÂ
He frowned, but he did not press her further, resolving instead to poke around later. Perhaps he would see whether the Shrineâs head Priestessâs tongue was as loose with information as it was with vulgarity once sheâd properly indulged in her sake; heâd make certain she was well-stocked in advance.Â
Giyuu furtively glanced back at the shrine maidenâs profile, in part to see whether he could deduce anything from her expressions, but he found himself instead studying her, puzzling over a change in her appearance he hadnât noticed before.
Sensing his stare, the Miko turned to him with a light smile that then faltered. âWhat â?â
âYou changed your hair.â It took everything within him not to reach out, to see if her hair would feel as silky in his fingers as it looked shifting softly in the wind. âIâve never seen it down.âÂ
âOh!â Her smile turned bashful, a pretty pink dusting spreading across her cheeks. âI wanted to wear my hairpin â see?âÂ
She turned her head, the long curtain of her hair rippling smoothly with the movement. With her back to him, Giyuu could see the pin heâd given her neatly tucked into the long strands of her hair, pinning half of it back. The red of the pinâs maple leaves posed a lovely contrast with the hue of her hair.Â
Y/N was already quite beautiful, but with her hair partially down, he thought she looked softer; younger. She peeked over her shoulder at him, fingers nervously combing through her tresses. âItâs not practical for every day, of course, but I thought since youâd likely be arriving soon ââÂ
His eyes widened and Giyuu became acutely aware that his heart now thumped wildly in his throat as Y/N choked off with a squeak, apparently realizing what sheâd revealed. Though she hurriedly turned back around, Giyuu could see how the tips of her ears burned bright red.Â
Despite her efforts, her admission hung like a cloud in the air between them. Sheâd worn it â the hairpin â for him.Â
Giyuu swallowed thickly. âI like it.â He cleared his throat and turned, allowing his own unruly hair to obscure his face. âOn you, that is.âÂ
For once, the Miko had neither a quick remark nor barb to lob back at him. Instead, she only turned back to her task of grinding her herbs, a thick curtain of her hair concealing her face from his sight.
Once she'd finished bottling up her new medicinal salves, Giyuu helped her carry the tins to the Shrine's storage house, directly across the courtyard from its main wing. The shrine maiden remained curiously quiet, even in spite of his own lame attempts to converse with her. He'd finally given up after his dry comment about the weather went ignored. But every so often, he let his eyes wander to her as they returned to the honden, and that nagging feeling returned as he watched her gnaw incessantly at her bottom lip, a faraway look in her eyes.Â
Giyuu was not a nosy man, but the Miko's clear distraction unsettled him. He was about to pull her aside, to demand she tell him exactly what it was that had chased away the smile he so longed to see when they were approached by Y/N's haughty Master.
âLord Tomioka,â the head Priestess nodded curtly at him in greeting. âI am glad to have run into you â I am in need of your assistance.â
The old Priestess turned to her young protĂ©gĂ©e. âGo assist the younger ones; they need to give their offerings before dinner.âÂ
Y/Nâs mouth opened to protest but the head Priestess cut her off. âNow.â
To his surprise, the shrine maiden did not argue with her Master, only turning to him to give him a helpless shrug before she began to make her way toward the Shrineâs honden.Â
The Water Pillar grimaced. He tried to convince himself the pit in his stomach was only because her odd behavior gnawed at him; that he was only curious to learn what it was that troubled her. But as the Miko cast one last, reluctant look over her shoulder at him, Giyuu found that he was as unwilling to watch her go as she was to leave.Â
If the Shrineâs head priestess noticed his inner anguish, she paid it no mind. âYou will accompany me in the kitchen.â
â-
The first thing he noticed was the conspicuous absence of the scent of sake, which heâd grown accustomed to following the Priestess around like a pungent cloud of perfume. He resisted the urge to scowl; he would have to find another way to get the old woman to talk.
Giyuu followed the woman into the small structure that stood adjacent to the honden that served as the Shrineâs kitchen. He watched silently as she pulled a cleaver, large and deadly sharp, free from where it was stored in a cabinet and laid it atop a butcherâs block. The elder stepped outside of the kitchen and returned a moment later, a recently de-feathered and skinned chicken in hand.
âThings around here seemâŠtense,â Giyuu observed carefully as the old woman slapped the chicken on the counter for preparation.Â
âTense is one word for it, I reckon,â she bit, taking up her cleaver. âThe world we live in is dark. I should think you would know that better than most.â
The corner of his mouth dipped down. âBut even your girls seem unusually subdued; distracted.âÂ
Her eyes flashed to his, piercing and sharp. âYou mean Y/N.â
It wasnât a question.Â
âShe is always restless this time of year,â the old woman sighed. âThough she loves autumn, she despises winter â or, rather, she despises how it reminds her of what she does not have. And winter is well on its way.âÂ
He nodded, recalling what the shrine maiden had revealed to him that day, on the hillside.
âBut your observation is correct â that is not all of the reason she is so distracted,â the old Priestess said darkly, and Giyuu was surprised to see how alert and focused the normally soused elder seemed. âA man from the village â Susumo â has been following her. Demanding her.âÂ
Giyyu straightened. âWhat do you mean by âdemand?ââÂ
The haggard woman cursed below her breath as she broke down the chickenâs body. âI mean in the way that men often feel entitled to women â especially angry drunks like him.âÂ
Every hair on Giyuuâs body stood straight as the weight of the Priestessâ warning settled.Â
âI have forbidden her from venturing out in the dark alone,â the Granny continued, harshly wrenching a joint on the fowl.Â
âShe is a Priestess in training; surely that status affords her some protection?â Giyuuâs knuckles turned white where his fists clenched at his sides.Â
âIâm not sure the shrine is enough to keep him out for much longer. Heâs been lingering â and threatening consequences, if I do not agree to hand her over to him for marriage.â The old Priestess grimaced. âHer status does her no good if he burns this place to the ground.âÂ
The old woman set her cleaver next to her with a heavy thud, her frustration palpable. âThe girl is of age, and I am not her blood family; there is no one here who can claim authority over her, not like a parent or an elder sibling.â When her eyes lifted to his, Giyuu could see a hint of fear underlying the hard anger in her gaze. âThese days, I half-expect to awaken and find that sheâs been stolen in the night.âÂ
The Water Pillar felt his jaw clench. It was rare that he felt the burning flush of anger and it was not directed at a demon, but the idea that Y/N was being harassed and threatened by some village drunkard who felt entitled to her, lit something hot in his stomach. For as vexatious and confounding as he found the young Miko to be, no one deserved to be stalked like prey.Â
Especially her.Â
âIâve had a crow stationed here to alert me of any demon attacks for months,â Giyuu began, and the old woman looked to him in surprise. âBut I will assign more to keep watch during the day. If there is anything strange afoot, they will tell you.â He paused a moment before adding, âAnd they will alert me, too.â
The head Priestess laid down her cleaver to look at him, long and hard. âThen she may have a fighting chance yet, Lord Hashira.â
ââââ-
By the time he found Y/N once more, dinner was over and the moon had risen high in the night sky, casting the shrine grounds in its pale, silvery glow.
Heâd told her, rather tersely, that he was unable to stay the night, and he tried to ignore how his chest tightened at the crestfallen look that flashed across her face. Despite her tangible disappointment, she insisted on escorting him out of the Shrine, desperate to cling to every second that might be spared to them.
âYou are rather quiet tonight,â the Miko observed, walking him to the grand Torii. âMore so than usual.â It was an understatement; the Water Pillar had been downright sullen and withdrawn from the moment heâd returned from whatever takes Granny had insisted she help him with.Â
Rather than give her any explanation, Giyuu halted his step and reached for her wrist, stilling her. âYou did not tell me you were being harassed.âÂ
She looked up to the Water Pillar in surprise. âHow did you â?âÂ
He released her from his grip in favor of drawing closer to her. âWhy didnât you tell me?âÂ
Y/N opened and closed her mouth, struggling to find her words. âI suppose,â she began, but her mouth quirked down in a frown. âI did not think you needed to be burdened by something so insignificant.âÂ
Giyuu stared at her as he mouthed the word insignificant, the look he shot her giving the distinct impression he thought her an idiot. âI do not think your safety is insignificant,â Giyuuâs hand drifted to the hilt of his sword, clenching it tight. âNor do I think you are insignificant.âÂ
âCompared to your other obligations? I should think Iâm very unimportant.â Y/N turned away from him, fiddling with a gathering basket she carried on her hip to avoid having to look him in the eyes.
But the raven-haired Pillar caught her wrist and turned her back to face him, not willing to be ignored. âIf you call for me, I will come to you.âÂ
Y/Nâs heart lurched at the Water Pillarâs words, spoken with such conviction and sincerity that it made her falter in her step. âTomioka-san,â she said breathlessly, her eyes wide as she turned to him. âYou have far more important duties to see to than to concern yourself with than mere village drama ââ
But the raven-haired Hashira only shook his head as he took another step towards her, his expression severe; calculating. âYou have the knife I gave you, yes?â His eyes dropped to her pocket, and Y/N felt compelled to show him that the small blade was indeed tucked safely within the folds of her hakama pants.Â
âGiyuu,â she pled, and she noted the way that he twitched towards her at the sound of his name falling from her lips. âPlease, donât worry ââ
âI do not make promises I cannot keep,â the Water Pillar cut her off, closing the distance between them until the tips of his zori nearly grazed hers, his head bent down towards her as the heat of his stare threatened to consume her. âSo I repeat: if you call for me, I will come to you.âÂ
Any thought of arguing faded from her mind as Y/N became keenly aware of the lack of space between their bodies, of the way her hands, clasped in front of her chest brushed against the folds of his haori as it shifted softly with the wind.Â
âI understand,â she breathed. Y/N held his gaze for a long moment, though it was in part due to the battle waging within her not to allow her eyes to drop to his lips.
She would not let herself acknowledge how close they were; how soft they looked, or how warm they might feel against hers; her skin.Â
Giyuu lingered as well; after a pregnant pause, he finally stepped back, blinking as though coming out of a trance. âGood,â he nodded, and he glanced furtively over her shoulder. His eyes narrowed and he nodded as though satisfied before he turned crisply on his heel to begin his trek towards his duties and away from her. âDo not forget.â He called one last time over his shoulder, before the shadows of the woods swallowed him whole.Â
As Y/N dazedly made her way back towards the shrine, a crow following closely behind her, she almost laughed at the suggestion she could.Â
ââ-
Autumn, 1915
The weeks passed by without much fuss, and soon, the palpable tension that had settled over the Shrine as a result of Susumoâs lingering threats subsided. Soon, life at the Shrine returned to normal, and Y/N often found her mind wandering to thoughts of raven hair and endless blue eyes.Â
Until that night.
It had been a normal evening at the Shrine; autumn, blissful autumn had arrived, heralding forth crisp winds and golden skies. Though the days were steadily growing shorter, Y/N found herself rejuvenated by the new chill, especially as she watched the leaves of the trees shift from green to gold to ruby.Â
The leaves on her hairpin indeed had been a perfect match to those which were steadily drifting from the tall maples dotting the Shrine. Though she couldnât wear her hair down the way she had the last time the Water Pillar paid the Shrine a visit, Y/N had found new ways to incorporate his gift into her daily life, weaving it through her plait or tucking it behind her ear.Â
That night had been one like any other; after dinner, the girls of the Shrine had scattered to tend to their evening duties. The shrine maiden had been walking alongside her Master, planning for the upcoming festival in the nearby village, during which the Shrine would seek new patrons to keep it operational. The women mulled over which families might be more inclined to assist them, and settled on a prominent merchant known to frequent other shrines on his travels through the country.
That was when theyâd spotted the smoke.
âFire!â A shrill voice cried, and both the old Priestess and Y/N blanched. âThe honden is on fire!â
All at once, chaos broke out across the Shrine grounds as girls darted to and fro, frantic. Granny began barking at her charges, ordering the younger ones to gather in the courtyard while instructing the older girls to assist in putting out the flames.
"The granary!" Someone else cried. "The granary has gone up in flames!"
The elder Priestess snatched Y/N's wrist in her weathered hand. âThe scrolls!â Granny's expression of horror was a sure match to her own. âTheyâre in the storeroom near the granary!âÂ
The scrolls in question had been in the Shrineâs custody for over five hundred years, carrying sacred inscriptions of the gods and prayers essential to its operation and legitimacy.
They were priceless; irreplaceable.Â
âIâll go!â And before her Master could protest, the Miko had already turned away and began sprinting toward the fire that was rapidly engulfing the granary near the back of the property. Â
Thankfully, the storeroom had yet to catch fire, but if the one steadily consuming the granary was not dealt with soon, it wouldnât be long before it spread to consume the small wooden hut.Â
And Y/N knew it wouldnât take much to reduce the storeroom to ash.Â
Coughing, she pressed her arm to her nose and mouth, using the large bell sleeve of her kosode to block some of the smoke that burned her eyes and nose. She pulled her other sleeve over her hand to protect it as she pushed the storehouseâs door aside.Â
Inside was dark; quiet. Though the nighttime made it difficult for her to see the scrolls and prints carefully rolled and tucked away into tiny cubbies lining the hutâs walls, Y/N wasnât stupid enough to waste time searching for a candle to light. So, with only the flames eating away at the granary at her back to light her way, she began pulling handfuls of scrolls free from their storage, tucking them under her arm.Â
She turned to take her first armload of priceless Shrine artifacts from the storeroom and nearly tripped over a collection of heated coal pans that had been stacked in the corner to keep the scrolls sealed within the room at a stable temperature. She managed to hold onto her scrolls, however, and she quickly moved them away from the hut, placing them safely on a nearby rock that was still far enough away from the storeroom should it catch fire. She returned to the hut to survey what else she needed to salvage, but a familiar, tiny yelp and the flurry of movement in her periphery made the Mikoâs stomach twist.
âKomatsu!â Y/N turned and saw the anxious younger girl lingering at the storage hutâs door, her tiny hands trembling. âGet away from here! Itâs not safe!âÂ
âB-but Sister,â the girl cried, hopping anxiously from foot to foot. âThis is too much to do on your own ââ
âYou need to go find Granny,â the shrine maiden ordered. âI will join you in a moment.â
The girlâs lower lip wobbled. âBut â,â
âNow!â
With a great sniff, the girl turned away, leaving Y/N alone once more. The Miko sighed and resumed her hasty perusal of the hutâs shelves, searching for anything else that could not be replaced.Â
There was a rustling near the doorway and Y/N bit her lip in an effort not to swear in front of her younger peer. âKomatsu, what did I say ââÂ
She turned to admonish the girl, but her reprimand dried instantly on her tongue. For there, in the entryway to the storeroom, was Komatsu, her eyes wide and her face bone-white with a terror that matched Y/Nâs own.
Because the girl was not alone.
Wrapped around her bicep was a hand, as large as a small boulder, and tipped with long, wicked claws that threatened to pierce Komatsuâs bicep. The hand was attached to a forearm, inhumanly thick and muscled. Slowly, Y/Nâs eyes dragged up the length of the monstrous arm to behold the sinister face that grinned at her.Â
It was Susumo â only it wasnât Susumo. Y/N recognized the vague features of the face that had once belonged to the village drunk and her personal tormentor. His hair was the same as was the general shape of his face, and the cruelty of his smirk, but that was where the resemblance to the Susumo sheâd once known ended.
Now, he boasted a row of sharp fangs that distended nearly to his lower lip. And his eyes â no longer were they a cold, soulless black; now they were crimson red, and his pupils were cut into catlike slits.
Demon. A voice whispered in her mind. Demon.
âEnjoy my fires, Priestess?â Even Susumoâs voice had changed, forming a growl that matched his monstrous appearance. âI set them for you â I knew you would not be able to resist seeing such a spectacle.â
âKomatsu,â Y/N ignored him in favor of addressing the young girl, though her voice was unusually high though she fought to keep it as steady as possible. âPlease go find Granny and help her with the honden.âÂ
The young trainee trembled but Susumoâs clawed hand only tightened around her arm. âIâm afraid I canât allow that, sweet Priestess,â the demon crooned. âYou have something I want, you see.â
The slick, oily look in his eyes made his desire clear.
Y/Nâs eyes darted quickly around the hut, finally falling on a series of coal pans stacked to the side of the room, only a few feet from where she stood, paralyzed. Her quick, cursory glance at the pans revealed iron that was slightly red, and she swore she could see the air around them distorted by the heat.
Hot; they were still hot.
The Miko looked back to where the demon continued to leer at her, ravenous. âFine,â she said coolly. âI will go with you, Susumo.â
Komatsu looked between her and the demon in horror, but Y/N only kept her eyes locked with the demonâs. She edged closer to where the coal pans were still burning hot, eyes not daring to drop his as she drew closer to the demon and the younger trainee. He grinned, revealing cruelly sharp and bloodstained teeth, and his yellow eyes shone with a triumphant smugness, believing the Miko was surrendering to him at last.Â
As she brushed past the pans, Y/N furtively reached out a hand and closed her fingers around one of the handles. âKomatsu,â the Miko kept her eyes carefully trained on the demon. âRun.â
Her hand seized around the coal pan and with every ounce of her strength, she swung it toward the demon. The hot iron of the pan slammed into the side of his head, forcing him to drop his hold on the younger girl. There was a struggle between the older shrine maiden and the demon, who fought to wrench the pan free from her fierce grip, but Y/N would not relent.Â
âRun!â She shrieked at the girl again, and Komatsu darted away. Y/Nâs fingers stretched to close around the tiny lever on the handle of the coal pan, and with a snarl of fury, she managed to latch around it, squeezing it with all her might. The lid of the pan opened and red-hot coals spilled forth over the demonâs head. Susumo howled in fury, and Y/N dropped the pan, letting it crack against his head as she shot past him, desperate to escape the tiny storeroom.
The faster she got into open air, the better chance she had of living.Â
But a claw, sharp and deadly sunk into her bicep, and yanked her back. She could not help the small scream that tore from her throat as she felt his talons rip at her skin and the sleeve of her kosode was shredded into ribbons beneath his nails.
âSister Y/N!â Komatsuâs tiny, terrified voice cried out from several feet ahead.Â
The shrine maiden swallowed her building panic. âGo!â
The little girl hesitated again and Y/N knew she could not follow after her, not without risking her safety once again. With a defiant scream of rage, the shrine maiden tore her arm free of the demonâs razor-like claws, fighting back the bile that rose in her throat as she felt blood run down her arm, hot and thick.Â
The demon grasped wildly at her but found only air. Thinking only of the safety of Komatsu and her fellow trainees, Y/N turned on her heel and ran for the trees, away from the chaos unfolding at the Shrine.Â
And the demon, still snarling and panting and undoubtedly enraged, followed her into the forest.
Shit, shit, shit!
Y/N hurtled over a snarled root as she ran, her life dependent upon every stride as she fled the newly-demented Susumo.
In the back of her mind, the Miko knew her efforts were in vain; because for every inch she managed to gain, the angry demon at her heels seemed to gain a foot.
âYouâve denied me for far too long!â The monsterâs voice growled behind her, far too close for comfort. âI will have you!â
Y/N palmed the small nichirin knife tucked safely within the deep pockets of her hakama pants, and wildly she wondered whether it was possible to decapitate a demon with such a small blade. Perhaps the Water Pillar should have left her a sword. After all, a sword could not really be that different from a broom, and sheâd walloped her fair share of handsy drunkards and would-be thieves with the cleaning tool.
If she lived through the night, she would tell him as much the next time she saw him.
Y/Nâs musings did nothing to help her avoid the root of an old tree that jutted out from the earth, snarling around her ankle and sending her flailing to the forest floor. Angry tears of frustration clouded her eyes. Although she knew these paths like the back of her hand, that knowledge did her little good in the dark, as she fled for her life.
Scrambling up to her feet, Y/N caught sight of a pair of eyes watching her from the brambles, dark and inky.
A crow. The image of a certain Hashira flashed before her eyes, as Y/N recalled the way that the members of the Demon Slayer Corps used crows to communicate.
Perhaps this crow was so affiliated, and she was desperate enough to try. âPlease!â Y/N begged, sobbing as the crow stared down at her with those black eyes. âGiyuu!â
âââ
The night had been unusually peaceful for the Water Pillar.
His ambling patrol around his territoryâs perimeter hadnât revealed so much as a whisper of demonic activity. But the absence of any conspicuous threat did not mean his guard was down; his eyes remained sharp, his ear finely tuned, listening for any shift in the wind, any sign that something was amiss and required investigation â
A sudden rustle of leaves sounded from his right, and Giyuuâs hand moved reflexively for his blade, bracing against its hilt in preparation. A small shadow burst from the canopy above him, its wings flapping wildly. He recognized it instantly as the crow heâd assigned to watch over the Shrine â to watch over her.
âDemon attack at the Mountain Shrine!â The crow squawked, circling above him frantically. âDemon attack! Go now â quickly!âÂ
He hadnât hesitated to turn sharply on his heel, furiously making his way toward the Shrine. He broke through the line of trees at its edge in record time, and even heâd been taken aback by the chaos that had broken out.
âThe honden is on fire!â the old woman cried out to the Pillar as he swiftly landed among the chaos unfolding across the shrine grounds. âThe girls were still doing their evening duties â but then another fire was started near the granary!âÂ
âMy crows said a demon had made an appearance,â Giyuuâs eyes carefully scanned the terrified, frantic faces of the Shrineâs residents, his hands braced against the hilt of his sword. âHas anyone been hurt?âÂ
The head Priestess stared at the Water Pillar in muted horror. âI have not seen â but I havenât taken any headcount of the girls to know ââÂ
A piercing cry from near the south gate of the Shrine cut the old woman off, and both Priestess and Slayer whipped toward the sound. A girl, no more than nine, was half-running, half-stumbling toward them, frightened tears streaking down her face.Â
âKomatsu!â the old Priestess blanched as she caught sight of the small apprenticeâs busted, bloodied lip. With a sob, the young girl flung herself into her elderâs arms and clung tightly to her. âWhat on earth â?âÂ
âSister Y/N!â the girl called Komatsu wailed, and Giyuu felt himself go cold. âGranny â th-that man â heâs a monster!â
The head Priestess paled in recognition. âSusumo?â Giyuuâs gut clenched at the name. The old woman knelt before the girl, her hands clutching wildly at her slim shoulders as she shook her lightly to recenter her. âKomatsu, was Susumo the monster?âÂ
The young girl nodded. âHe was so â hiccup â fast! I didnât even see him!â She only cried harder. âAnd t-then Sister Y/N â she grabbed the coal pan and dumped it on him until he let go.â Komatsu trembled as she lifted a shaking hand to wipe at her cheeks. âA-and then she t-told me to r-run ââÂ
THe old Priestess caught the girlâs quivering chin in her hand and forced her to meet her eyes. âWhere is Y/N, Komatsu?âÂ
Komatusâs eyes were wide with fear. âShe ran,â she whispered. âInto the woods â b-but Granny â she was bleeding ââÂ
The Shrineâs Priestess turned to the Slayer, ready to beg him to follow after the demon and her apprentice, but the Water Pillar was gone. For a brief moment, she feared all hope was lost; that theyâd been abandoned and non one would be able to save the young Miko â her heir â from whatever horrid fate awaited her at the ends of Susumoâs crazed, brutal claws.
She caught a flurry of movement right against the dark line of trees that snagged her attention; a flap of the edge of a mismatched haori, and the glint of a blade being drawn, its wielder already furiously making his way into the shadowy depths of the forest.Â
The Priestess exhaled and clutched her trembling young trainee to her chest. As she soothed the shaken young girl, the old woman prayed the Water Pillar would not be too late.
â
She was fucked; well and truly fucked.
Y/N had no idea how long sheâd spent sprinting furiously through the forest, but she knew she was quickly running out of stamina. Worse, it seemed the demon on her heels knew she was slowing, and was now playing with her. But even his patience seemed to be at its witâs end; for a sudden sharp blow to her back sent the Miko flying several feet forward until she slammed against the uneven, rough terrain of the forest floor.
Y/N gasped for air that would not come as she tried to push herself up. Crawl! Her mind begged her body. Crawl, damn you!
A dark chuckle from behind sent every hair on her body standing straight on end. A hand locked around her ankle and flipped her over until she was nearly nose to nose with the demon crouched over her. âGot you,â he sang, and the moonlight glinted off the sharp edge of his fangs as he grinned.Â
Her fingers found the handle of the knife the Water Pillar had gifted her in her pocket. With a determined grunt, she pulled it free and plunged it deep into the meat of his shoulder, praying furiously to any god who would listen that she might have hit an artery so that he would bleed out.Â
The demon loosed an enraged scream and fell away from her, hands blindly fumbling for the blade. Â
No longer pinned beneath him, Y/N scrambled back. Her hands scraped against the broken brush and pebbles below her in her desperate attempt to put distance between herself and the demon rising to his feet ahead of her, snarling. As he began advancing toward her, Susumo gripped the knife sheâd buried in his shoulder and with a grunt, he wrenched it free and tossed it carelessly to the side, right along with the last shred of any hope sheâd had of making it out of the woods alive.
The demonâs mouth curled into a cruel, savage grin, the moonlight glinting off his long, wicked fangs. âIâm going to enjoy this,â he growled, saliva dripping down his chin as his nostrils widened to scent her blood and her fear.Â
This was it; there was nowhere for her to run, no weapon she could try and protect herself with. There was nothing she could do; she was going to die, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Just as Susumo drew upon her, close enough that she could smell the rancid, pungent odor of rotted meat on his breath, he stumbled back, startled.Â
One moment the demon was standing mere inches from her, ready to devour her whole; the next, he was sent sailing back, his body smashing into the trunk of a nearby tree with a sickening thump!Â
A blur of dark matter soared over the Mikoâs head toward the monster. Susumo barely had time to stand before the shadow converged on him once more. There was a flash of light â the moon reflecting off metal â followed by a dull thud. The shrine maidenâs heart lodged in her throat as she watched the head of the former village drunkard roll across the forest floor before distingrating, his body following soon after.Â
She was nearly hyperventilating as the shadow turned to face her, but the pall of the moon finally illuminated the face of her savior â her Water Pillar.
âG-Giyuu,â she stuttered, her eyes stinging with unshed tears of relief that washed over her all at once.
But Giyuu did not respond, his lapis eyes narrowing in on the dark stain spreading across the white of her kosode. Y/N cowered at the cold, unbridled rage that contorted the ordinarily stoic Hashiraâs face as he began to shake at the sight of her blood. In a flash, Giyuu had closed the distance between them and knelt down by her side, gripping her wounded arm in his hand as he tried to pull her tattered sleeve down and inspect her wound.
âTomioka â Giyuu,â she pled, trying to wrench her arm from his iron-like grip. âPlease, itâs not that bad ââ
âDid it get you anywhere else?â Giyuu demanded harshly, and the authority underlying his tone made Y/N fall silent for the first time since sheâd known him. âDid it -â the Water Pillar hesitated. âDid it touch you anywhere else?â
Y/N was trembling, and the Hashiraâs hand around her arm tightened. âAh!â She winced. âNo, I promise, Giyuu, itâs just a flesh wound, Iâm fine-,â
âYou are bleeding. You are not fine.â Giyuu snapped back. âYou couldâve been killed, or turned, or -,â the Water Pillar began to hyperventilate, and it shook the young Miko to her core. The Water Hashira was normally so unflappable, so stoic, that his panicked anger frightened her.
â-So do not tell me youâre fine,â Giyuuâs rant continued. âNot when you couldâve â not when I mightâve failed â not again --â
She was at a loss for what to do as she watched the raven-haired man struggle to form words. Vaguely, she recalled the way the Granny-Priestess had once explained to her that when someone panicked, they needed to regulate their breathing, and there were many ways someone could help force another to breathe properlyâŠ
Stomach fluttering, Y/Nâs free hand came up to grip the fold of the Water Pillarâs haori. Giyuuâs incessant rambling only ended when her lips urgently pressed against his own, his eyes going wide. A heartbeat or two passed and then the Miko pulled away, her eyes serious as she stared at the stunned Water Hashira.
âYou need to give me a sword.â She told him, earnestly, her face blazing.
âââ
Giyuu helped her back to the Shrine, though the Miko found herself needing to bat off the Water Pillar with a stern reminder that sheâd only sustained a small arm wound as heâd tried to scoop her up into his arms.
The Swordsman had been rather subdued the entire journey out of the forest, his eyes curiously wide and dazed right until the pair breached the tree line at the edge of the Shrineâs property. The moment they stepped into open ground, they were swarmed by the tearful, relieved faces of the Shrineâs inhabitants. Words of gratitude to him were woven through worries over the Mikoâs arm wound as they made their way across toward the small infirmary which, thankfully, had not been touched by Susumoâs fire.
The honden itself was still standing; though the flames had finally been subdued, smoke still curled up toward the sky, blocking any view of the moon or the stars.Â
The head Priestess waited for them outside the infirmary. Though her face was grave, Giyuu could spy the relief shining in her eyes. He stood numbly by as the Miko and her master regarded each other warily for a moment, before the elder Priestess reached forward and yanked her charge forward into a fierce embrace.
âReckless girl,â she chastised gently against the side of Y/Nâs head. âThank every one of the gods that youâre safe.â The old Priestessâs eyes found those of the Water Pillar. âAnd thank you, Lord Tomioka.â
Y/N was promptly escorted inside to have her wound examined and stitched. Despite the old shrine keeperâs gratitude for his aid in saving the young shrine maiden, that thankfulness apparently did not extend to permitting him inside the infirmary with them, and for good reason. For under the Elderâs withering glare, the Water Pillar realized that Y/Nâs treatment would require her to be stripped of her kosode, leaving her exposed and bare.Â
As unwilling as heâd been to part from her, the thought of witnessing the Miko undressed and vulnerable had been enough to temper his urge to look after her, if nothing else because the mental image of her in such a state flustered him to no end.
Though, he supposed his bewilderment also had something to do with what had transpired between them in the forest.
Kissed him; the shrine maiden had kissed him.Â
His fingers drifted to his lips. They still felt warm where theyâd been graced by hers, and he swore he could still feel the softness of her mouth from where it had brushed against his.Â
He needed to talk to her; he needed to know what the hell sheâd been thinking, kissing him like that.Â
But as shocking as the Mikoâs kiss had been, there was something else, something far heavier, that weighed on his mind.Â
Sheâd nearly been killed. By a demon. On his watch.Â
He shouldâve apologized; he shouldâve begged for her forgiveness for letting her come that close with death. For letting her get wounded because he hadnât been fast enough.
I was concerned for you, he wanted to tell her. I thought I would be too late.
No; concern didnât cover it; did not do near enough justice to his true emotions upon learning the Miko had fled into the dark forest with a hungry, loathsome demon hot on her trail.
Heâd been scared; terrified; almost beside himself at the possibility that heâd be too late and find that sheâd already been reduced to the beastâs meal,Â
Heâd been scared heâd never again see her smile or hear her laugh, and that had terrified him more than anything. For it was the memory of both that soothed his anxious nerves each time he startled awake from visions of his dead loved ones, demanding to know why they had died in his stead.  Â
Heâd feared that he would have to add her face to those he saw when he slept â the faces of those heâd failed to protect, whoâd died for his sake. Heâd been terrified of seeing her image in painstaking clarity, just as he saw the faces of his sister and Sabito every morning.Â
He did not know what to do with them, these confusing feelings, so abundant and intense that theyâd welled up within him and threatened to spill over. He couldnât name them, let alone begin to untangle the knot theyâd formed within his heart. All he knew was that every one of them were inextricably tied to her.Â
His shrine maiden.Â
His.
â
Y/Nâs arm ached, but it had been properly sewn and bandaged, and there was work to do before she could settle in for the night; and so, she found herself helping her peers with cleaning up the courtyard from the debris of the nightâs events.Â
Truthfully, she'd been grateful for the distraction. Occupying herself with cleanup meant she did not have to think about what sheâd done in the forest. But then Granny Priestess saw her trying to heave away broken wood with her freshly stitched arm and Y/N found herself forced to abandon her fellow trainees as the old bat smacked her upside the head and squawked about how she was going to break her stitching and complicate the healing process. Â
The Miko tried not to pout as she retreated, opting instead to grumble over the old womanâs dramatics as her arm stung and her ego throbbed. When she finally returned to her sleeping quarters, exhaustion slammed into her, making her limbs heavy and leaden. Unable to quite rally the energy to crawl into her futon, she slumped against the doorway of the room, her head and her heart a tangled mess of emotions she couldnât quite name.
What sheâd felt the moment the Water Pillar had stepped into the moonlight had been more than mere relief that heâd managed to save her life for the second time. Sheâd felt safe, so unbelievably safe that the forest itself could have been on fire and she wouldnât have been afraid; not as long as he was there with her.
Something between them had shifted; that much was clear. In truth, things likely had begun to change the moment she repaired his haori, and sheâd admitted to him her deep-seated loneliness and lack of belonging.
She only hoped he felt the change, too.
â
Much to Y/Nâs chagrin, autumn was quickly giving way to blasted winter.
Though, the Miko hadnât been able to fully resent the rapid shift in the seasons; repairs at the Shrine had consumed nearly all of her attention, and as Grannyâs heir, she was expected to contribute to its reconstruction more than any other trainee.
That expectation meant Granny left the task of figuring out how to finance the necessary repairs entirely to her young protege. Y/N had spent all of two days agonizing over ways to raise the necessary funds when she awoke to find a mysterious sack of money that had been left on the doorstep of the honden. Inside had been an amount more than generous to cover the cost of repairs from the fire, with a hefty remainder that could be put toward other necessary improvements to spruce the Shrine up, and perhaps restore it to its former glory.Â
No note had been left with the money to indicate the identity of the Shrineâs benefactor. But amid all the excitement of her peers at the thought of being able to afford materials and laborers to assist with the more difficult aspects of the Shrineâs refurbishment, Y/N had spotted a familiar crow perched high in a nearby tree.
That position had afforded the bird with a perfect view of the money sack, allowing it to silently ensure it fell into the proper hands. But repairs had finally slowed, and Y/N now found her days returning to normal. Almost.Â
What was not normal was how agitated she'd become in waiting for his return.
Another week passed without any communication from the Water Pillar, and the Miko had grown desperate for any sort of distraction. She found herself one late, autumn morning passing the time in the Shrineâs garden hut. She was pretending to be searching for tools that would help her prune the wilting Shrine garden when something grazed against the small of her back. Startled, she turned and was greeted by familiar, unruly raven hair and a pair of deep azure eyes.Â
âGiyuu,â his name slid easily off her tongue, and suddenly she could not remember why sheâd called him anything else.Â
A ghost of a smile graced his lips. âHello, Y/N.â
A poignant silence followed, and her cheeks grew hot. "Don't mind me," she said quickly, turning her head away from him as she pretended to organize stray gardening supplies. "I am only just now finishing my tasks for the day."
Though he remained silent, she became acutely aware of the way Giyuuâs eyes followed her as she tried desperately to keep herself busy, to avoid having to meet that piercing, discerning stare.Â
âI did not get a chance to properly thank you after the turmoil of that night,â she said casually. Nervously, she hoped that his heightened senses did not alert him to the way her heart fluttered in her chest, or how her stomach flipped in her gut. Her nails dug into her palms as she lifted her head to meet that unnerving, fathomless stare.
But the Water Pillar had already closed most of the distance between them, having moved so silently sheâd not heard him, despite even the creaky, uneven slatted floor of the garden hut. âHow is your wound?â He asked softly, his hand skirting up the outside of the arm Susumo had wounded. âHas it healed?âÂ
It took a great amount of effort for Y/N to remember how to keep her breathing steady. But she forced her lips into an easy smile as she rucked up the flared sleeve of her kosode to reveal her bicep. âIt will likely scar,â she admitted, her fingers lightly tracing over the three, angry red marks that remained imprinted on her skin, though theyâd fully scabbed over. âI consider myself quite lucky, all things considered.âÂ
âWhy did you do it?âÂ
The Miko ducked her head, willing the sheet of her hair to fall and conceal her mounting blush. She did not need to ask him to clarify; she knew after what he was asking.
But she feigned ignorance all the same. âI donât know what you mean, Tomioka-sama ââÂ
âDonât call me that,â and even though she refused to meet his eyes, she could sense his irritation at her avoidance. âWeâre well past such formalities, Y/N.â Giyuu stepped closer to her, his cerulean eyes melting into something more akin to the midnight blue of the evening sky. âYou kissed me. That night.â The Water Pillarâs hand glided up the arm that Susumo had injured, caressing softly over the healed skin beneath the sleeve of her kosode.
âI-I did no such thing!â Y/N sputtered, though her reddening cheeks betrayed her. âI was only attempting to help you calm down â you were panicking, and inconsolable.âÂ
Giyuuâs responding smirk only served to irritate her more. âShould I thank you then, Y/N?â His hand slid from her shoulder to below her chin, his delicate fingers curling to tilt her head up towards his, as he closed the distance between their bodies. âShould I show you how grateful I am that you were able to assuage my worry?âÂ
Y/N tried to focus on anything but the feeling of Giyuuâs breath â warm and enticing â against her face as he leaned in close. âYou had no reason to worry; I was completely fine before you showed up.âÂ
âFine,â the ravenette scoffed, his grip on her chin tightening slightly. âSo fine that you were bleeding and about to become that beastâs snack â or worse.âÂ
âBut you saved me, did you not?â Y/N whispered, unable to stop her eyes from dropping to the Water Pillarâs sensual, soft-looking mouth before rising once more to meet his punishing gaze. âAnd then I helped you.âÂ
Giyuuâs second hand brushed against her waist and the shrine maiden thought she might leap out of her skin. âYou did,â he conceded, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a small, half-smile. âThough I apologize that you needed to do so â I suppose I become a little over-zealous when things that are precious to me are threatened.âÂ
Even if she could have thought of some witty remark to throw back at him, those words surely would have been blocked by her heart as it lodged in her throat.Â
Things that were precious to him. She was precious to him.
âSo Iâll ask again, Y/N,â Giyuu whispered, and his nose brushed delicately against hers. âShould I thank you for your assistance?â The fingers beneath her chin stroked her jaw. âShould I kiss you?âÂ
She fought to suppress the excited shudder that licked up her spine. âYes, Lord Hashira,â she breathed, and her stomach turned cartwheels as Giyuuâs gaze dropped to her mouth. âPerhaps you should.âÂ
âWho am I to deny the request of a priestess?â Giyuu murmured, and then his lips were moving against hers, warm and soft. Y/Nâs fingers flew to clutch the Water Pillarâs rocky biceps beneath the soft cloth of his haori, anchoring him against her. The hand that had gripped below her chin slid to the side of her face, tilting her head so that the Water Pillar could have better access to her as he pressed his lips harder against hers.Â
Y/N moaned into his kiss, wanting him closer, impossibly closer to her than he currently was.Â
Giyuu broke away from her once, though he kept a hand on the back of her neck to keep her in place. âWhat are your duties today?âÂ
Y/Nâs fingers curled around the front of the Water Pillarâs haori, her forehead resting against his. âNone of import.â She gave him a sly smile. âNo one will miss me if I am gone for a few hours.âÂ
Giyuu returned her smile with a tiny smirk of his own. âIn that case,â he tugged her hand and he began to lead her towards the grassy overlook where theyâd spent a great deal of time talking and learning one another. âI could use your assistance.â
â
Y/N hadnât greeted the sunrise with the intent to neglect her shrine duties, but she couldnât say she regretted how she ended up spending the day.
They spent the day resting on the hillside overlooking the shrine grounds, rolling back and forth upon the browning grass as they kissed each other again and again.Â
âYou werenât wrong, that day â right after we met,â Giyuu gasped against her lips as they broke apart, the blush on Y/Nâs cheeks a sure match to his own. âI do not find you captivating.â
Y/Nâs eyebrows furrowed. Her mouth parted, a protest on her tongue when Giyuu surged forward, his lips brushing against her neck. The Mikoâs words choked off with a squeak as the Water Pillar danced his lips to the hollow of her throat, his tongue flicking out once right where her heart pulsed wildly.Â
âI think you are utterly transfixing; enchanting,â he breathed against her skin. âYou have cast a spell over me that I do not want broken.â
âI find it hard to believe anyone could wield that sort of power over a Hashira,â Y/Nâs voice was high pitched as Giyuuâs lips made their way back to hers.
In the back of her mind, Y/N wondered if his words were motivated purely by his physical desire for her. It would not have surprised her if he was only so taken with her because he longed to be touched; held. Like him, sheâd gone much of her life without intimacy from anyone. She could not blame him for seeking it from someone so willing to give as she.Â
âBut you are not just anyone, not to me.â was all he replied, his lips moving softly against hers once more. âYou areâŠeverything.â
Y/Nâs breath caught in her throat. The Water Pillars words, dripping like honey from his lips, were only sweetened by the fervent sincerity of his eyes as he pulled back to gaze into hers, so deeply, she felt as though he could see every thought in her head.
She wondered if he lowered that piercing, discerning stare, whether heâd be able to see straight to her heart, too; see how it bore his name.Â
Even though her breath guttered in her throat at his words, her heart clenched painfully in her chest. The idea that sheâd attached more meaning to their relationship than he, that perhaps sheâd overestimated her value to him made her tense, made her want to push him away and â
âYouâre distracted,â Giyuu murmured against her lips, brushing his nose against hers. âYour thoughts are loud.âÂ
Her fingers caught the front fold of his haori, fiddling idly with it. âThere is nothing for you to repay, you know. You do not owe me your time or your attention. I know the Shrine is simply a part of your designated patrol. I understand if its convenience is the only reason ââÂ
A single finger pressed itself against her lips, quieting her. âYou think and talk too much.â The ravenette chastised. Her mouth parted, a protest forming on her lips, when he cut her off again. âAh ah,â Giyuu silenced her with his lips, his tongue flicking out to skim along her bottom lip. Above her, he shifted and allowed his weight to fall against her, pinning her beneath him. Reluctantly, his mouth broke away from hers. âIt is my turn to speak.âÂ
âI do not come to the Shrine because it is easy,â Giyuuâs lips brushed hesitantly against her jaw. âNor do I come here out of any preconceived obligation to repay your kindness.âÂ
He pulled back to study her, panting and flushed beneath him. As his eyes slowly combed over her, Y/N felt a strange knot pull and twist in the depths of her stomach. âThere is only one thing that brings me back here, no matter how exhausted I am after weeks of endless missions; no matter how often certain junior Corps members pester me to train them.â His eyes narrowed at the hollow of the Mikoâs throat, exposed by the way her kosode had shifted as the pair of them rolled around the grass. Curious, Giyuu leaned down and pressed his lips firmly against it.Â
And then he did the unthinkable;Â the Water Pillar moaned, ever so softly, against the fluttering of Y/Nâs frantic pulse. The sound, so rich and full of need â of want â washed over her and drowned out all other thoughts, all other higher reasoning from her mind. INstead, the Miko was left with nothing but the sharp urge to press her thighs together, an unknown heat beginning to pool in her most sacred area.Â
âDo you know what that thing is, Y/N?â He whispered against the soft dip in her throat, his breath hot as it fanned across her skin. âCan you guess what it is I cannot stay away from â could not, even if I desired otherwise?âÂ
His fingers dropped to the collar of her kosode, tracing lightly over its crisp, white fold. âWhen I close my eyes in the mornings, it is your face I see,â he murmured. âIt is your laugh I hear in my dreams; your scent I find myself longing for when I awaken.â
The Miko shivered as his index finger traced from her collar up her throat, over her chin until it came to rest on her bottom lip, gently stroking over its curve. âIt is you I seek to turn to remind myself that there is still good in this world â good still worth protecting. Why is that, Y/N?â His eyebrows furrowed and he seemed almost earnest in his question. âWhy is it that my mind refuses to be occupied by anything but you?âÂ
âBecause I vex you,â she said softly, eyes wide and locked with his. âBecause, try as you might, youâve never been able to fully fit me into a box as you have with others.âÂ
Giyuu shook his head. âVex me?â He tsked at her. âPerhaps once that was true. But now? I desire you in ways I can hardly understand, and it drives me mad.â
Her breath hitched in her throat. âWhat are you saying?âÂ
âI think Iâve been rather clear,â and instinctively, Giyuu rolled his hips against hers, desperate to relieve some of the friction mounting in his groin. âAnd itâs that I want ââÂ
But the Miko did not get to hear what Giyuu wanted; not as he was drowned out by the screeching cry of a bird from high above. Only, this bird was not the dull, graying crow sheâd come to associate with her Swordsman.
âI thought your crow was older?â
The Water Pillar frowned as he turned to look up, his eyebrows drawn together. âThatâs not Kanzaburo â thatâs one of the Masterâs ââ
âCAW,â the bird circled above their heads in narrow, rapid turns. âLord Tomioka! Return to headquarters immediately!â
Giyuuâs jaw clenched. âCan it not wait?âÂ
Y/N, however, only gaped up at the bird flying above them. âIt talks â?âÂ
But the crow only cried again, âEmergency meeting at headquarters!!
With a short, frustrated exhale, Giyuu rolled to the side of the Miko and rose, but not before he extended a hand and helped lift her to her feet.
He gingerly brushed some loose grass from her hair. âIâm sorry.âÂ
She only shook her head as she reached to adjust his haori, righting it in his shoulders. âItâs your duty, Giyuu. I understand that.â
He scowled back up at the bird still circling above them, bleating a refrain of âEmergency! Go now!â
âIâm not finished with this conversation,â Giyuu said plainly, a frustrated hand working through his hair. Though his annoyance was plain as day, it fell away as he looked back to the Miko at his side, his gaze softening. âNor am I finished with you.âÂ
A single finger reached under Y/Nâs chin and lifted her head toward him so he could brush another kiss against her lips. âI will come see you â soon.âÂ
With a shy boldness, the Miko rose on her toes and gave him one final kiss, and Giyuuâs hand tightened where it rested against her waist. âIâll wait for you, Lord Hashira.â
âââ
December, 1915
Y/N cursed at the ancient priestess who insisted on using only gas-powered lanterns rather than the newer, much safer, electric powered lights that other shrines had begun using.Â
âWe are an esteemed shrine dating back hundreds of years,â the old crone had simpered, âTradition has kept us going this far!âÂ
Y/N hadnât helped her cause by asking whether tradition or spite was what kept the hag from dying off and finally leaving her in peace.
And that was how the young Priestess-to-be found herself stomping through the snowy grounds of the Shrine, forced to light each and every lantern by hand using a match and oil, utterly by herself.
She knew better than to levy such an obvious taunt at the old woman, but admittedly, Y/N hadnât been in the best of moods as of late.Â
Giyuu had not returned since that day on the hillside, when heâd kissed her silly and told her he could not stop thinking of her. It was as though he no longer existed; even the crows at the Shrine were no more, having all disappeared one morning before sheâd awoken.
As the weeks passed, the weight of his absence had grown heavier, threatening to beat her into the ground below.Â
But Y/N had done her best to hold her tongue over the last weeks as her anxiety mounted, and Granny shouldâve known that â so really, it was her own fault if sheâd taken offense to the Mikoâs barb.
She grumbled and cursed under her breath as she trudged toward the small garden hut standing at the furthest edge of the Shrineâs grounds â her last stop of the night. She shoved past the old, rickety door and braced her merrily flickering, hand-held lantern out before her, bathing the small hut in a warm, orange glow.
All was silent and quiet within the small storeroom. The air was cold, though the slatted walls of the hut offered some protection from the howling, snow-dotted winds outside. Determined to complete her task and return to the comfort of her warm futon, the Miko fumbled around one of the store shelves for a small can of oil.Â
âItâs you,â a quiet voice startled her from behind, and Y/N nearly dropped the lantern clutched in her hands.
But she did not feel afraid as she recognized the calm, soothing cadence of the voice, that voice that belonged to the one person capable of making her blush.Â
The one person who held her heart.
âItâs been a while, Giyuu. I was wondering when Iâd see you again.â She turned and saw the raven-haired man standing in the doorway of the garden hut, his face characteristically neutral, though he seemed tense, even more so than usual.
Instantly, she moved toward him. âWhatâs wrong?â
His eyes tightened, and the darkness which swam within them betrayed his aloof facade. âThings have changed quickly in my world,â he began, and she saw his fists clench at his sides. âWe believe the demons are preparing for war â and so we have been as well.Â
âWar?â She repeated softly, her step faltering. âI hadnât realized the demons were soâŠorganized.â
Giyuu nodded. âOne creature is responsible for all demons. He is the orchestrator; he is the one we must kill, and we believe the opportunity to do so is drawing nearer.â
The monotonous cadence of his voice fell away as he quietly added, âThat is why I havenât been able to return â weâve been training. This battle â it may start at any moment.â
He made like he wanted to say more, but he stopped himself, pressing his lips into a tight line.Â
âAnd?â She prompted gently, taking a solitary step toward him.
âHe hesitated, and she spied how his throat worked to swallow. âAnd I do not know when I will be able to see you again. After tonight.â
Y/N watched him for a moment, her eyes searching his. âWhen you say you donât know âwhenâ we will see each other again,â she began, cautiously. âDo you mean âif?ââ
Giyuuâs answering silence said more than any words could.Â
For a moment, the Miko could not remember how to speak, not as she felt the organ in her chest splinter into a thousand, mismatched pieces.
âI just wanted to see you,â the Water Pillar struggled to swallow around the growing lump in his throat. âOne last time.âÂ
She could scarcely breathe.Â
He was leaving and he might never return.Â
Leaving to go try and put an end to the scourge of demons that plagued their world. It was a noble thing to do; sacrifice in its purest form.Â
But she hated it.Â
She was filled with such a deep melancholy that it nearly brought her to her knees. As the Water Pillar turned to leave, Y/N couldnât stop herself as she reached for him, her arms encircling him as her hands locked over his front, stilling him.
âGiyuu,â she said thickly, her face pressed into the back of his haori as she willed the tears in her eyes not to fall. âGiyuu.âÂ
He turned in her grasp and looked down at her in awe, a finger rising to brush the errant tear that had escaped down her cheek as he held her gaze.Â
The flame within her lantern flickered as Giyuu softly grazed his lips against her own, Y/Nâs arms weaving around his neck to hold him close to her.Â
His hands were gentle, if not a little uncertain as they found her waist, but once they came to a rest against her, he pulled her close, arms winding around her middle and holding her securely against him as he deepened the kiss. She moaned softly into his mouth, her hands tangling in his hair as she opened up for him, his tongue gliding alongside her own until she was left breathless and wanting.Â
Vaguely, the Miko was aware that he was walking them deeper into the garden hut, allowing the old door to thud shut behind him, and the thought of not returning to her plush futon suddenly did not seem like such a loss.Â
Giyuuâs hands returned to her face, thumbs stroking softly along her cheeks as he broke their kiss to brush his lips against her eyes, her nose, and forehead. Y/Nâs hands parted the Water Hashiraâs haori from his shoulders as Giyuuâs fingers dropped to her collar bone, sliding beneath her kosode, and grazing her bare shoulder.Â
âYou have been my most treasured encounter,â he whispered, and she felt her heart seize in her throat, tears threatening to spill anew from her eyes.
A yearâs worth of interactions had all led to this moment, but it was not the satisfying payoff of the tension and longing that had been steadily building between them.
This was a goodbye.Â
Because it was likely that the Water Pillar would not survive the impending battle; but neither did he want to leave this end untied.Â
She had known, deep in her heart, that this affair had been doomed before it had ever begun, but that hadnât stopped her from falling for the kind, brave, selfless man now kissing her like she was his entire world anyways.Â
She would not get to have him in the morning, so she resolved to give herself to him for the night.Â
Giyuuâs hands eased her kosode from her shoulders, exposing her to the cool air within the garden hut. His warm hands, however, worked to chase away any chill that spread across her skin as he ran his palms over the curve of her shoulders before sliding down to rest on her bare waist, his long fingers grazing just below the curve of her breasts.
Her own fingers trembled as she fumbled with the buttons on his uniform shirt but in time, sheâd worked them open and Giyuu broke their kiss long enough to let his shirt drop to the floor beneath them.Â
The two stood there for a moment, chests rising and falling rapidly, as they looked at one another, half-nude and vulnerable. The shrine maiden and the slayer knew that they had come upon a precipice, and if they stepped off that ledge, there would be nothing to break their fall.Â
Y/N made the first move, taking a tentative step towards the Water Pillar as she trailed her fingers lightly up the beautiful, sculpted ridges of his abdomen, relishing how warm he was beneath her touch.Â
Giyuu shivered beneath her fingertips as the mikoâs hand came to a rest against his sternum, marveling the way his heart thundered beneath her hand. âAre you certain?â He breathed, his face was impassive, but his own uncertainty was betrayed by the slight tremor in his voice. His hand rose to gently cup the side of her face, his thumb ghosting over her bottom lip.Â
She reached to grab the Pillarâs free hand and brought it up to rest against her sternum, mirroring her own hold on him so that he could feel the steady drum of her own heart â and how it thrummed for him. âYes,â she whispered. âIâm yours, Giyuu.âÂ
Once, she had believed the Hashira incapable of expressing anything other than cold aloofness. sheâd not been able to comprehend the subtle ways with which his eyes could signal his mood; how they darkened when angry, or how the outer corners turned up, almost imperceptibly, when he was content.Â
But she had long since learned to read him, and so, her stomach fluttered at the way the raven haired manâs gaze heated with both adoration and desire â for her.Â
Giyu brushed his nose against hers affectionately before bringing their lips together once more, his kiss growing fervent as her hands slid up to tangle in his ebony hair. Y/N gasped into his mouth as she felt Giyu bend down, his hands gripping firmly under her thighs as he lifted her up, forcing her to lock her legs around his waist. Her lips parted, and Giyuuâs tongue slid seamlessly into her mouth.
Her lover locked one steely arm firmly around her lower back to support her as Y/N felt him lower them to the floor to lay her down, the Water Pillarâs free hand coming to brace against the back of her skull, to protect her head from thudding back against the wooden slats of the hut floor. The Miko steadied herself, prepared for the cold bite of the dirty hut floor to nip at the bare skin of her back, but she was only settled against something warm and soft; something that smelled distinctively of the Slayer panting above her.Â
Her fingers dropped to her side and grazed against the familiar fabric of Giyuuâs haori; his most prized and cherished possession, spread out beneath her to protect her from the cold ground, a makeshift bed against which she would let him take her and make her his.
He withdrew his lips from hers to sit back, his cerulean eyes tracing over every inch of her, from the way her dark hair spread out in a soft halo around her, to the blush staining her cheeks. His eyes darkened as they lowered to her bare chest, at the way it rose and fell jerkily as Y/N struggled to control her breathing.Â
Giyuuâs long, slim fingers reached out to trace along the top of her scarlet hakama pants, his finger tips just grazing along her ribs and the underside of her breasts.Â
âIâd never known such -,â He covered his struggle for words by pressing a sweet kiss against the hollow of her throat, a soft gasp escaping the Miko at the unfamiliar sensation. âSuch beauty,â Giyuuâs lips trailed down to skirt across the ridge of her collar bone. âNot until I met you.âÂ
His face was against her sternum, pressing kisses as he trailed his lips down her skin. âI am sorry I could not give you more time.â His voice was soft, softer than even she had ever known. Before she could respond, Giyuuâs mouth hesitantly brushed against the stiffened peak of her breast, and Y/Nâs mouth fell open with a soft cry.Â
Azure eyes flashed up to meet hers. âIs this â is this okay?âÂ
The Miko's eyes fluttered shut as she nodded, unable to trust that she could hold her voice steady if she spoke. Her fingers weaved their way through the Pillarâs thick, raven locks, and she grazed her nails against his scalp in encouragement.Â
Giyuu grunted softly at her touch, and he leaned forward to suck more of her soft mound into his hot mouth, teeth grazing lightly against her nipple as he explored her.Â
âOh,â she moaned, her thighs inadvertently pressing together as Giyuuâs tongue and lips worshipped her bared flesh, licking and sucking and nipping at her in his devotion.Â
âBeautiful,â he murmured against the soft, sensitive skin of her breast. âSo very beautiful.âÂ
He repeated the movement again and again before he traced his mouth across her sternum and began lavishing her other breast with the same fervor. Her hands fisted in his hair as she mewled for him, enamored with the feeling of his hot mouth latched around her. He gave her more and yet it was not enough; every pass of his tongue over her stiffened peak only amplified the ache between her legs, only made the emptiness she felt more pronounced.
A breathy, whining and needy moan blew past her lips in time with a reflexive buck of her hips against his. Â
The ravenette pulled off her breast with a start, his eyes bright and his cheeks flushed as he gazed down at her in awe. âDo that again.â
âW-what â?â She pushed herself up on her elbows to look down at him, her chest heaving.
âTell me what to do,â Giyuuâs breath was ragged though his fingers continued trailing down her sides, seeking out the ties securing her bottoms around her waist. âTell me how I might help you make that sound again.âÂ
âI ââ Y/N squirmed beneath the intensity of his gaze, her thighs rubbing together to stifle some of the electricity she felt between her legs. âI want you to â I need you closer.âÂ
Her eyes drifted to the bulge that had formed between the Hashiraâs thighs, and she felt her heart skip in her chest.
Giyuu pressed his groin against hers and ground. She gasped at the spark of pleasured friction the movement stoked between her thighs, and her eyes flew to meet his, only to see they were as wide as hers.Â
And just as hungry.Â
Her hand gently cupped his face. âCloser. Please.âÂ
He pressed his cheek into her palm and with a soft groan, his fingers quickly loosened the fastenings of her bottoms and then he was pushing them down her hips and over her legs, discarding them carelessly to the side. Giyuu sat back on his knees and let his eyes roam her, now fully bare and laid out beneath him.Â
When his appraisal of her finally reached the thatch of curls between her thighs, the Water Pillar loosed a shaky breath. She had half a mind to cross her legs, to conceal the most intimate part of her body from the raging fire of his gaze as he studied her, but she forced herself to remain relaxed; open.
One, broad and calloused hand stretched tentatively out to run along the outside of her hip and down her leg, before smoothing back up in the inside of her thigh. His eyes flicked once to hers, and then he leaned forward and brushed delicate kisses down her abdomen, over her hip and along her thigh. He continued his descent as he slowly pushed himself back from her, and once he imparted one last, sweet press of his lips against her ankle, he rose.Â
The flickering light of the lantern cast shadows along the alabaster of his skin, further accentuating how the muscles of his torso and abdomen flexed and shifted as he worked to free himself of the remainder of his clothes. His eyes did not leave hers, not even as his hands found the buckle of his belt and tugged it loose, and Y/N found herself free falling into their depths.
The ravenette dropped his belt to the floor, and then his fingers were at the waistband of his trousers, pulling and fiddling with their fastening. At last, Giyuu freed his lower half from the confines of his uniform pants and stepped out from the puddle they made at his feet.Â
Y/Nâs breath hitched in her throat as her eyes raked over his beautiful form, so lean yet solid and muscular. Her cheeks burned with a renewed blush as her gaze followed the small, dark trail of hair beginning just below his navel, and down between his hips, where the evidence of his desire stood proud.Â
Her throat went dry. He was large â the flared head of his tip nearly grazed his navel, and his width was a little more than two of her fingers. Her thighs clamped together nervously, as she pondered how on earth sheâd be able to accommodate him.
Giyuu noticed her hesitation, and a faint dusting of pink spread across his cheeks. âI have never -â
The shrine maiden shook her head. âNor I,â she whispered, though the knowledge that this was as new to him as it was to her helped ease the clench in her stomach. For all her nervousness, the Miko could not ignore the heat and longing which burned within her as she lifted her eyes back to his. She found her muscles softening as she saw the same fire within those cyan pools sheâd come to love. Y/N laid back against the floor â against the comforting soft of his haori, and let body relax, her legs falling open to him.Â
She held her hand out to him, beckoning, âCome back to me, Giyuu.âÂ
The ravenette did not hesitate as he returned to her, covering her body with his own as he pulled her in for a heated kiss, the weight of his hardened length resting heavily against her hip as he settled between the cradle of her thighs.
Y/N moaned into his mouth, instinctively rolling her hips against him, desperate to feel closer to the man who had claimed her heart before sheâd realized anyone was capable of holding it. Â
Giyuu groaned, softly, against her as she repeated the movement, breaking their kiss to look down at the flushed Miko threatening to drive him wild with her silken touch. As much as he was desperate to feel her â every part of her â he knew what they were about to do would not be nearly as pleasurable for her as it would be for him.Â
âI donât want to hurt you,â the Water Pillarâs eyes were stormy, a tempest of competing desire and pain at the idea of causing her even the slightest discomfort raging within him.Â
Y/N brushed her lips against his once before trailing along his jaw, pausing only to suck softly as the soft spot beneath his ear. âI am only ever undone by you; never hurt.âÂ
He moaned softly, lowering his head back down to reclaim her mouth firmly with his own, his lips beseeching her to let him consume her.Â
She was only too happy to do so, parting her mouth so that his tongue could slide in and dance languidly with hers, as he reached between them, gripping hold of his aching length and positioning himself at her entrance.Â
The first brush of his hot, velvety tip against her folds broke their kiss, both gasping at the new yet intoxicating feel of the otherâs most intimate area.Â
Giyuu braced his free arm by her head, his fingers stretching to run comfortingly through her hair, as he pressed his forehead against hers. âIf it becomes too much, just tell me, and we can stop.â His voice shook ever so slightly as he waited for her signal, the ache in his groin becoming nearly painful.Â
The Miko grazed her lips against his throat. âDonât stop.â She murmured. She hitched her legs higher up on his hips, angling herself so the trembling man above her would have better access to her.Â
Slowly, so very slowly, the tip of Giyuuâs length began to push into her, and Y/N felt herself temporarily forget how to breathe. Above her, Giyuuâs eyes squeezed shut in a concerted effort not to sheathe himself within her in one stroke.Â
âY/N,â Giyuu panted, unable to stop the shaky moan that fell from his lips as he sunk into her warm heat that wrapped tight, so impossibly tight around him.
The shrine maiden winced at the unfamiliar and slightly uncomfortable sensation of being slowly stretched and filled by the Pillar. She felt as though she was a wave, crashing and breaking and parting around a rocky shore with every inch gained by the press of his hips against hers.Â
Giyuu hardly had a quarter of himself seated within her when he felt his head brush against a thin barrier. His eyes opened to look down at the Miko, panting beneath him, her eyebrows pinched in slight discomfort. When she noticed heâd stopped, she peered up at him through her thick eyelashes, her cheeks flushed.Â
The hand Giyuu had held at his base to help guide himself within her lifted to grip her hip, her legs relaxing as his fingers massaging soothing circles into her flesh. Giyuu removed his forehead from its resting place against hers and he buried his face into the side of her neck as he pressed his body flush against hers. The hand heâd used to brace himself found hers, and he lifted to rest above her head, his fingers twining tightly with her own.Â
âIâm okay,â she whispered, pressing a sweet kiss against the shell of his ear. Giyuu nearly shuddered at her words, and he pressed his hips forward, his cock finally breaching that thin, inner barrier to the rest of her welcoming heat.Â
Y/N cried out at the bright spark of pain that flared through her as Giyuu claimed her as his own, but the Pillar held her steady, pressing open-mouthed kisses against her neck.Â
A hitched gasp blew past Giyuuâs lips as he became fully seated within her heat, her core gripping him like a vice. He panted against the sweat-dampened skin of her neck as they both adjusted to the sensation, her nails digging harshly into the skin of his back as she waited for the discomfort to subside.Â
Giyuu pulled his face back to look down at her, the hand heâd had on her hip rising to cup her face as he brushed his lips across her cheeks and eyes.Â
âMy beloved, are you all right?â His breath came hard and fast as he panted, the growing friction between where they were connected becoming hotter, more demanding the longer he remained still.Â
Y/Nâs eyes slowly opened to meet his, he felt her relax as he kissed her, slow and gentle.Â
Her lips broke from his and she nodded, shakily. âYou can move â just hold me. Please.âÂ
Giyuu let his full weight fall against her as he wound an arm tightly around her waist, his other hand tilting her face up so he could kiss her fiercely, eager to show her what she meant to him when his words otherwise failed to do so. As she opened up to him, tongue flicking out shyly along his lip, Giyuu rolled his hips experimentally against hers.Â
Both the shrine maiden and the Pillar cried out in unison as Giyuuâs movement stoked an intense pleasure where they were joined.
It was like a spark of flame had ignited between her legs before shooting up to her belly, making her insides clench and pulse.Â
It was addicting, and, judging by the way the raven haired swordsman above her hissed, heâd felt that jolt of electrifying pleasure, too.
âOh,â Giyuu moaned as he began to move atop her, his cock sliding in and out of her heat as he worked to set a pace. âYou feel â this is ââ his stutters broke off into ragged pants that melted into broken moans with every movement as he found his rhythm.
The grip he had on her hand tightened as he pulled back from her neck in favor of watching her body jolt and bounce with each of his thrusts.Â
His head dropped down to study how his length, now coated in something shiny, appeared with every long draw of his hips out before disappearing back into her warmth.Â
He threw his head back. âHeaven,â the Water Pillar groaned out, a tendon throbbing in his neck as another cracked moan slipped free from his throat. âYou are heaven.âÂ
Shallow thrusts turned deeper, more purposeful, as the Water Pillar settled into his tempo. Each push of his hips opened her up more, bit by bit, until Y/Nâs limbs liquified and she was left moaning and whimpering in time with his movements.
One particular thrust made her cry out, caused her legs to reflexively tighten around Giyuuâs hips as something hot flared deep within her stomach.Â
âM-more,â she managed, her voice tapering off with a squeak. She needed to feel that spark again, wanted to feel that jolt of electricity that made her stomach clench. âP-please â ah!â Giyuu ââÂ
With something between a moan and a growl, Giyuu angled himself to thrust deeper, his weight pushing her hips back from the floor. Her legs were forced to hike higher up his waist, her ankles locking instead against the dip in his spine rather than his backside.Â
The new angle meant that Giyuu was able to hit at a spot that sent a bolt of lightening between her legs, and she could feel herself tighten around him.Â
The combination of her walls fluttering and pulsing around him and the strange fullness she felt was both overwhelming and exhilarating. She did not think she could stand to feel empty again; to not feel him consuming every inch of her.
Gradually, the small garden hut was filled by the sounds of their pants and moans, weaving together to form the melody of a song meant only for them.
Giyuu began thrusting harder, and soon, a dull clap of skin began to reverberate off the hutâs slatted wood walls, adding a steady beat to the rhythm of their pleasure. Though the air inside the hut had been nearly as frigid as what lay beyond its door, both the Miko and the Slayer found themselves coated in a thin sheen of sweat that made their skin glisten in the faint, orange glow of her lantern.
Above her, the Water Pillar was as lost in his pleasure as she. Guided purely by instinct, Y/N arched her lower back away from the floor until her breasts were flush against his sternum, desperate to feel that jolting spark between her legs.Â
She felt the walls her of her core clench tighter around Giyuuâs length with her movement, and he answered her with a deep growl as his arm cinched tighter around her waist.
Deep; he was so deep within her, that she wondered whether he might reach her soul before they had to part.
Giyuuâs thrusts quickened, the base of his groin grinding against that sensitive spot between her thighs that had her wanting more as she moaned, her thighs squeezing the Hashiraâs hips.
His head was thrown back, his eyes tightly shut as the most beautiful sounds of pleasure Y/N had ever heard poured from Giyuuâs mouth.
âI â fuck.â He growled as one arm tightened around her waist to the point of pain, the other grabbing her hand to bring it to his lips in a futile attempt to stifle the sounds lilting from him like song.Â
His name fell from her lips like a hallowed oath and Y/Nâs legs fell to the side, allowing Giyuu to chase the crescent of his release, as hips pistoned into her with wild abandon.Â
âY-Y/N,â her black-haired beauty of a lover grit through clenched teeth, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. âMy treasure, I-Iâm gonna-âÂ
The Water Pillar buried his face into the side of her neck, cradling his groans into her throat, and Y/N could feel his length twitch within her.
As Giyuuâs hips slammed into her one final time, so to did the realization that she loved this; she wanted always to be this close to him, wanted always to be unable to tell where she ended and he began.
She loved him.Â
But the bitter truth was that sheâd never again get to hold Giyuu the way she was right then, legs wrapped tightly around his waist as she felt something warm gush through her, a pleasured groan, so beautiful and husky tumbling from the Hashiraâs lips as he pressed a sweet kiss against her collarbone.Â
She would not get to love him past this most sacred rite.Â
If she were honest, sheâd likely never again experience this intimacy with anyone, for as long as she lived â for how could anyone else ever possibly compare?Â
She supposed sheâd been doomed to never hold onto the people who were meant to love her since the day she was born. She shouldâve known better.
But as the roll of Giyuuâs hips into her heat slowed, and his labored breaths eased, Y/N could not find it within herself to regret it; to regret him.Â
Because, fool though she was, she loved him.Â
Giyuu collapsed against her, his face nuzzling into the crook of her neck as he came down from his high, still buried inside her as the two panted.Â
Her hands moved of their own accord to card through his raven hair, fingertips massaging his scalp as his breathing slowed, his breath adding further moisture to the already sweat-dampened skin of her neck.Â
She wished they could remain like that always; that the dawn creeping over the horizon would not herald forth the sun, and they could stay on the floor of the garden hut forever, wrapped in one anotherâs embrace. She desperately wanted to memorize the tempo of his heart as it beat steadily against his chest, the vibrations of which she felt against her ribs. Such a beautiful melody, it was, and yet it filled her with such despair to know she might never again hear its sweet song; that it might cease playing forever, the moment Giyuu resumed being the Water Pillar once more, and walked through the shrine gates for the last time.Â
But Y/N had never had anyone she could call her own, and as much as she loved the man nuzzling her neck as he whispered sweet nothings against her skin, heâd never been hers to keep.Â
âMy beautiful, beautiful Y/N,â Giyuu murmured, kissing his way up her throat to her lips. âAre you alright?âÂ
She held his lips for a moment before breaking away, letting her eyes roam his face, and she nodded. âAre you?âÂ
To her utter surprise, the Water Pillar chuckled softly, his laugh breathy and his smile heartbreakingly beautiful. âYes, my treasure. I am more than alright.âÂ
He brushed a kiss against the tip of her nose. âAfter all, I am with you.â
âââ-
Heâd brought her against his chest and theyâd laid there together, simply staring at one another, trading soft kisses as Giyuu traced a finger over every feature of her face at least twice.Â
If he was to die, he knew his last thoughts would be of her, and he wanted to be sure heâd committed every last detail of her face to memory.
Soon, far too soon, the deep indigo of the night sky was broken by the first, watery rays of morning light, and both the Miko and the Slayer knew their time was up.
The lovers dressed quickly, their backs to one another as both steeled themselves for the goodbye they could no longer avoid.Â
And now, that time had come. Though it was Giyuu who walked to his likely doom, Y/N felt as if she was embarking on her own death march as the pair drew near the towering Shrine gate. Perhaps she was; after all, he would be taking her heart with him, and she was unlikely to get it back.
Y/N did not know whether to lean in and kiss him, one last time, or whether such a display of affection would only scratch at the gaping, open wounds they now bore on their chests, where their hearts had been.Â
Giyuu, apparently, did not know what to do either, so the two only stood there beneath the Torii, eyes swimming with emotions neither could bear to voice.Â
There was a beat, and then the two moved toward one another, drawn together like magnets as they locked themselves in a tight embrace. Giyuuâs hand cupped the back of her skull as Y/N pressed her face hard into his shoulder. Her fingers dug into the fabric of his haori, desperate to keep him rooted to her â to life, safe and away from demons.Â
But he couldnât stay; she knew that. And so, with a deep inhale in a desperate attempt to memorize that mahogany and citrus scent of his she so adored, Y/N pulled away. She made to step back from him entirely, to put distance between them, but those warm fingers caught her under her chin, tilting her head up to face him before his hand slid to cup her cheek.Â
The emotion swimming in the azure depths of his irises threatened to chisel away at the lock she kept on her own. Tears burned in her eyes, but she would not let them fall; she would not make this harder for herself â for him â than it already was.Â
âIf you do not hear from me, leave the mountain. Go to the city, and do not go out at night. Keep your dagger and wisteria on you at all times, even when you sleep,â Giyuuâs eyes were serious, the hand on her face holding her in place. âLive, Y/N. Grow to be an old woman. Die only from age.â
The shrine maiden closed her eyes as she willed herself not to cry. âAnd if you win?âÂ
Giyuu hesitated for a moment and Y/N knew better than to ask him to make a promise he could not keep.Â
âSend a crow, if you can.â She whispered, feigning a small smile. âIt would be nice to not be afraid to go and gather night-blooming herbs.â
The Water Pillar nodded, his hand smoothing through her hair one last time as his lips pressed against her forehead. âThank you, Y/N.âÂ
She didnât need to ask what for.
She hoped sheâd never forget the way he said her name; the longing and the breathless passion that dripped from every syllable, and the way it sent shivers down her spine.Â
Giyuu broke away from her and set off towards the east. Y/N watched until he was nothing more than a speck on the horizon, before he disappeared entirely.Â
He did not look back.Â
ââââââââ
He hadnât trusted himself to look back at her, though every fiber of his being had screamed at him to turn around and behold her beauty one last time. But the Shrine Maiden had become his largest weakness, and Giyuu knew if heâd looked back, he would never make it back to his estate; to the Corps.Â
And if you win? Sheâd asked him, and he hadnât been able to form the words of the answer heâd so desperately wanted to give her.
Because while Giyuu Tomioka never made promises he couldnât keep, that did not mean he didnât hope. Right then, more than anything, his greatest desire was to win this war; win it, and come back and tell Y/N that she no longer needed to fear the night.Â
In any other life â if Giyuu had been any other man â there would be no question as to who heâd choose to spend the rest of his days with.Â
And so, Giyuu thought as he forced himself to march forward, his eyes burning, if he made it out of this war alive, he would go back to the Shrine and tell Y/N of their victory himself.
And perhaps sheâd then allow him to make her his wife.
Keep an eye out for Part II to see if Giyuu comes back and makes good on his promise!
COMMENTS, REBLOGS, AND LIKES ALWAYS APPRECIATED!
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happy birthday!! could i get vanilla birthday cake with crybaby!reader and âsheâs so pretty, she still looks like an angel while iâm doing the most depraved and ungodly things to herâ
- đ·ïž (if itâs available)
MEAN!RAFE + CRYBABY!READER â.Ë áĄŁđ© .đ„Ë
participate in my bday celebration!!!
âgood girl, right there, yeah?â
the drooling sounds of crybabyâs cunt swallowing the length of her boyfriend filled her frilly room. the baby blue decor seemed to judge her â being ruined in a space that was so precious. she could feel the beady eyes of her stuffed animals watching them. it shouldâve felt wrong, but nothing wrong could make her feel so good.
the sex was always great with rafe. she thought he was heaven sent, so good with that mouth and seemingly all knowing when it came to her body. he knew all the spots to drag out animalistic whines and pearly tears from her.
it was all nasty words and sobs that filled the space. rafeâs large hands guided her movements roughly, pushing her to ride him in a way he liked. the realization that she was being used for his pleasure made crybaby clench around him. he rewarded her with a buck of his hips.
she mewled at the feeling, the sensation of him nudging her cervix making the tears fall harder and faster. fingers scratched at his toned chest, searching for any kind of stability.
âdaddy, iâ i canâtââ
a sting to her tear-stained cheek caused a choked sob to fall from her kiss bitten lips. the slap wasnât even that hard â rafe tutted and gripped her chin, pulling her face down to his. body pliable and melting into him, her head all muddy from the contact of his palm to her cheek.
âyeah? you done, baby? tell me to stop.â he whispered, almost a threat. like he was daring her to back out.
but he knew her too well; silence broken by her little sniffles was all the response he got. those wet eyes stared at him pleadingly and pitifully. she wouldnât say it â even if she had a gun to her head. too cock drunk to even function.
a wicked smirk etched its way onto rafeâs handsome features, resuming dragging her back and forth on his cock with her jaw still tightly in his grasp. her lips parted in a silent whine, he kissed her open mouth hotly.
âsâwhat i thought. you need this shit, huh? donât fuckinâ tell me you canâtââ
she was a mess above him. hips canting when his tip kissed that perfect little spot, beginning to black out as stars dotted her vision. or maybe that was just the tears and mascara coating her lashes.
the sight had rafe pulsing inside of her, eyes flickering over her whole face and trying to commit her expression of pure ecstasy to memory. so beautiful.
his breath was ragged, a gravel texture to his voice that gave crybaby goosebumps, âlove you⊠like an angel while âm doing dirty shit tâyou. fuckinâ⊠depraved and ungodly shit.â
she was hiccuping and writhing, almost to the precipice of that little death. from the way his navel continuously bumped her puffy clit. the pressure just right, his gaze so intense, his hands so roughâ
crybaby came with a sob, babbling dumbly through âthank youâs and âi love youâs. her body was shivering and trying to squirm away from the blond boy. rafe caught her, working her through the sensations patiently. he pushed her onto her back and settled back into her warmth, pussy eagerly accepting his hard length with a squelch.
âget your lamb, there you go, atta girlââ
a soft white stuffed lamb was thrusted into her arms, limbs like jelly but clinging to the familiar source of comfort. her tears soaked into the plush of the animal and she bit the ear to muffle the choked cries that involuntarily left her mouth.
her pathetic little head lolled to the side into his forearm, nose nuzzling the warm skin. listening to the muffled sounds of his grunts and praises. she could feel him in her stomach â hazy eyes floating down to where theyâre connected. a creamy ring collecting around his base and creating even worse sounds.
but crybaby couldnât find it in herself to care anymore. their gazes connected and she felt the pleasure build once more. one objective on her mind:
it canât get more ungodly than letting him fill her to the brim.
#STARS BDAY CELEBRATION â.Ë áĄŁđ© .đ„Ë#đ·ïž anon#rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x reader#rafe outer banks#fanfic#outer banks#rafe cameron smut#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron x you#rafe obx#obx smut#obx x reader#obx fanfiction#obx imagine#obx cast#obx fic#obx
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âą|THINGS JJK MEN DO DURING SEX|âą
[âą~featuring: Satoru, Suguru, Toji, Sukuna~âą]
[âą~a/n: pt2?? and not proofread ~âą]
|| SATORU GOJO || âąwhimperingâą
you were on top of satoru, your plush thighs resting next to his legs as you milked him for everything he was worth. you had been abusing his poor cock for the past hour. slamming yourself up and down up and down rhythmically. you and satoru both lost count on how many times you two have came. all that was going to though satoru's mind right now was the right wetness coating his cock. hoarse whimpers leaving his lips, covering up your own sounds.
satorus whimpers were loud and hoarse. slightly whiney too. always echoing throughout the room. it was probably your favorite part about riding him. hearing all the sweet sounds leave his throat as you continuously crash on him. and satoru wasn't ashamed of it either. he wanted you to know how good you always made him feel.
|| SUGURU GETO || âąholding your hips downâą
suguru's tongue had you so dumb. it was like it was made just to eat you out. the way it lapped at your clit as he fingered your hole. the pleasure was heavenly. he would suck on your click every now and then, with a loud pop!. his tongue just rubbed on your clit in all the right places as his fingers curved, hitting your g-spot perfectly. making you feel waves of pleasure soon building up as you felt your own release approaching.
you felt your hips squirm and shake, as you felt pleasure building up. suguru looks up at you through your legs. he then brings his rough yet comforting hands on. your hips and hold them in place. holding you back from squirming around. still lapping at your pretty cunt. you feel the waves of pleasure cover your body , stars soon taking over your vision. it made your thighs shake and tremble, suguru only responded with restricting your hips even more. the rough grip he had on you was sure to leave a mark.
|| TOJI FUSHIGURO || âąhair pullingâą
toji had you on all fours, hands gripping on the sheets for dear life as he pounded into you with full force. your cries only fueled him ever more, occasionally slapping your plump ass to encourage you to be louder. yet you would get so cock drunk. completely ignoring all his requests no actually commands. his only thought was to pull your hair, and make you listen.
he yanks on your hair harshly, your head turning back to look the the black haired man in his cold eyes. oh he was so harsh with you. the ball of hair he had in his fist was definitely bound to leave intense knots. he would pull you up against his chest just by grabbing your hair, the stings of pain only making your cunt wetter. whispering dirty lewd commands in your ears. he loved watching how lost you would get, as he railed you savagely.
|| RYOMEN SUKUNA || âąholding your handâą
sukuna had you pinned on the bed, your back getting shoved in the mattress as he folded your legs to your chest. his cocks ramming in and out of your pussy, so aggressively. although the pleasure was great, it was overwhelming. feeling both of his cocks ram into you so quickly. your hands began to start inching closer to his waist, attempting to get sukuna to slow down.
sukuna simply chuckles coldy and grabs both of your wrists and pins them above your head in one swift motion. his large hand being able to hold both of yours. this always made sukuna even more tempted to fuck you so dumb and helpless. seeing how pathetic you were, not even being able to escape his grasp, the size difference between you two, it all just made him hornier by the second.
divider creds: @rookthornesartistry
#jjk x reader#smut#jjk#gojo x reader#jjk smut#gojou satoru x reader#jjk toji#toji x reader#toji smut#geto x reader#geto smut#jjk geto#sukuna ryomen smut#jjk sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x reader#gojo smut#satoru x reader#jjk men#jjk fic
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rub one outâ(for your viewing pleasure-verse)
pornstar!eddie x director!reader
a cheeky (pun intended) bit of filth based on part of my blurb series. I was trying to keep the snippets short, but this just kinda poured out of me over the past couple days.
cw: sex work, simulated adultery, oral (fem receiving)
18+, MDNIâ2.8k
Maybe this was a bad idea.
You couldnât escape the nagging thought as you stepped outside, tightening the belt on your fluffy white bathrobe, tugging at the terrycloth tail and twisting it in your fingers. Your eyes flitted to each member of your crew, all of them in position waiting to get this show on the road.
Why were you so nervous? Youâd certainly done this enough times before not to get stage fright. So why did your stomach feel more tangled than the box of electrical cords in Lennyâs truck?
Part of you almost wished it would rain, or the ground would open up and swallow you whole so you didnât have to go through with this. But the concrete remained solid under your feet, and the sky overhead showed no signs of altering its radiant blue color. Perfect.
Itâs gonna be fine, you thought in an attempt to soothe yourself. Itâs all gonna be fine.
And you almost believed it would be.
Sammy, who was barely a step up from an intern, had swiftly been promoted once the plan for you to replace your no-show leading lady was set in motion. You werenât worried about her, thoughâshe was smart and a quick study; she knew all the shots you needed, and she had a good eye.
If you couldnât be behind the camera yourself, she was pretty much the only one you trusted.
WellâŠmaybe not the only one.
Eddieâs eyes met yours as soon as you stepped out of the trailer. The sunlight hit his deep brown irises, making them glow the color of rich honey. But behind the liquid gold, you could see his own nerves and it made your stomach flip, wondering what he could possibly be nervous about.
âHey,â he said quietly as he came up next to you. âYou good?â
For a moment, you considered lying. Flashing him a thumbs up or shooting him finger guns like one of those tools you used to do this with. But you knew better by now when it came to Eddie.
âNope,â you chuckled. âIâm kinda shitting myself.â
âWell, thatâs just what the guy about to fuck you wants to hear,â he chuckled back.
A real smile breaks through your tense, fake one and a genuine laugh bubbles up out of your chest. Eddieâs eyes shine when he hears it and the sight makes your chest feel all warm inside.
âNo, youâre right,â you said. âIâm okay, I justâŠdonât know why Iâm so nervous.â
His plush pink lips pressed into a straight line, his tongue poking out as he licked them. He reached out a reassuring hand and placed it on your shoulder, rubbing it through your robe.
âYouâre gonna be great,â he assured, sounding a lot more certain than you felt.
Easy for him to say. Heâs a fucking natural.
Even on your best day doing this, you never felt like you were great at itâcompetent, sure. Maybe even above average. But not great. Not at all the way you felt since getting behind the camera.
You nodded tightly, your hesitation still written all over your face. His eyes scanned over you and he swallowed thickly, his throat bobbing. He then leaned in and placed his lips beside your ear.
âYou lookâŠreally beautiful,â he said.
His warm breath rushed across your neck, the heat coming off his skin making your ears buzz. An explosion of fluttering began in your stomach, like there were butterfly cocoons in your cereal that morning and now they were all hatching.
âWe should get moving,â you said, pulling back. âBurning daylight.â
Eddie straightened. He nodded and you nodded back, sliding past him to do final checks before you started rolling. Telling yourself he must have pumped or popped a Viagra to explain away that bulge in his pants that definitely wasnât there before he came over to talk to you.
The nerves didnât disappear once you started working, but your body and brain did snap into a kind of performance mode you remembered well.
You started with some still photography for the VHS box artâshots of you in progressing states of undress, your robe dropping off your shoulder, Eddie pulling it open to reveal your body, his hand running up your thigh in a slow caress.
He let it trail all the way up your stomach and chest until he curled his finger under your chin and tipped your face toward his, letting his lips hover just inches away from yours. Your eyes fluttered closed and your heart raced, thinking he might close the gap and actually kiss youâ
But after the shutter snapped, he simply let his hand drop and backed away.Â
The loss of his body heat sent a chill down your spine and you shivered despite the blazing sun overhead. Eddieâs eyes caught yours, the nearly imperceptible lift of his brow asking, âyou okay?â You nodded and another shiver skittered across your skin as you pulled your robe back up.
For the next shot, you climbed up on the massage table and he got into position behind you. His body pressed yours down, your back arching under him as he dipped his head low to take the lobe of your ear between his teeth, palming your exposed breast with his large, strong hand.Â
You let your mouth hang open, not even needing to fake the look of desperation on your face. And let yourself believe Eddieâs excitement you could feel digging into the fat of your ass was real too. The little grunts and whines he let out when you wriggled against him certainly didnât sound fake.
After the photos, there was nothing left to do but move on to the main event.Â
You and Eddie resetâhim standing in frame, you just outside of it. Sammy panned the camera around, establishing the setting, zooming in on the fountain feature in the pool and then coming around to film Eddie as he snapped a fresh towel and laid it out on the massage table.
From your spot off-camera, itâs impossible not to be mesmerized by the sight. Biceps rippling, tendons in his arms flexing as he smoothed the towel flat. His tattoos stood out even more than normal with him in white slacks and a white polo meant to give the impression of him being an employee of the resort. And the little twist your hair and make-up girl Jael did is something new that only further accentuates the thick column of his neck and his angular jaw.
Heâd left off his rings and bracelets, as was typical when he was filming, and you couldnât help but think about that day in the editing suite. When heâd touched your knee, and you felt the silver ridges press into your flesh. It had jarred you somewhat, how right it felt to have his hand there and how youâd nearly leaned in to meet his lips when you saw his face getting closer.
You hadnât kissed him that dayâpromptly removing yourself from temptation in an attempt to salvage some shred of your professionalism. And you (mostly) felt good about that decision. It would have been reckless and destructive and your entire working relationship might have been compromised. Youâd made the right call that day, you were sure of it. MostlyâŠ
But today was different. Today, it wasnât going to derail your career. If anything, your career was mandating you give in to those urges that had plagued you so relentlessly. And that was when it hit you all at onceâthe realization about as subtle as a train crashing through a wall.
You were going to fuck Eddie.
Youâre going to feel firsthand what itâs like to have his face and cock buried between your legs; what itâs like to suck on his fingers and soak them with your spit before he presses them to your clit; what he sounds like when he comes all over your stomach or tits (you canât quite recall what the script specifies, you just know itâs meant to be outside so he can dotingly clean you up after).Â
The barrage of thoughts that storm through your mind are so consuming, you nearly miss your cue to enter the scene. But once you do, youâre rather grateful for the distraction of the set-up dialogue:
âItâll just be me, today. My husband has a meeting he couldnât get out of.â
âNo, no, itâs not his fault. I got it as a surprise for our anniversaryâI should have known better than to book it without checking his schedule.â
âIâm afraid I never know how much to take off for a massageâŠwhat do you suggest?â
Eddie answered your last question with a smooth, âWhatever makes you most comfortable,â and a smile so warm it would melt the ice caps.
Giving him a smile of your own, you slowly pulled at the tie of your robe. It fell to the ground in a heap at your feet and Eddieâs dark eyes roved over you hungrily. Now revealed to be completely naked, you feigned some degree of shyness: ducking your head low, looking up at him from underneath your lashes, brushing your hand over your stomach as though to hide it while really drawing his eyes to its plush softness.
âIs this alright?â you asked him with a coy smirk. Eddie grinned, still drinking you in.
âAbsolutely,â he breathed. And the raptness in his eyes almost had you believing him.
You took your time getting up on the table, propping yourself up on all fours, letting him (and the camera) take a good, long look at the fullness of your hips before you settled in place. Arms at your side, you took a deep breath as you laid flat on your stomach, relieved there wouldnât be much dialogue needed for this next part.
Through the little donut headrest at the end of the table, you saw Sammyâs feet as she moved in closeâfilming tight on Eddieâs hands while he pumped massage oil onto them and warmed it by spreading it between his palms.
Your chest tightened, nerves coiling in your stomach as you anticipated his touch, forcing your body to keep still so you didnât pull focus.
He smoothed some oil over your skin, starting at the ankles and thoroughly coating your calves. The smell of clary sage filled the air, earthy and warm. And underneath it, a clean and woodsy scent you recognized as Eddieâs soap wafted up to your nose when he leaned in closer.
His fingertips began to knead your muscles, slipping and sliding easily over your skin that was slick with the oil. He made tiny circles with his thumbs, alternating back and forth as they moved in a steady pattern up your calf.
Oh, thatâs rightâŠ
In all the hubbub, youâd forgotten the whole concept for this shoot was borne on the fact that Eddie went to massage school for real. Heâd told you before, after he left his hometown (shit, what was it again? Hawk-somethingâŠ) that he started collecting different jobs like merit badges.
Just bounced from thing to thing, trying his hand (sometimes both) at whatever life presented. And that included porn. Heâd said he only auditioned for that first film he did because someone heâd slept with a handful of times knew a casting director and suggested heâd be good at it.
âHe certainly had the dick for itâ were her exact words, if you recalled. Strange to think in a way, you might owe that girl your career.
Through the pleasurable haze your mind dipped into having Eddieâs capable hands erasing every ounce of stress you carried in your muscles, you realized he was moving the scene right along while you just lay there humming and moaning with relief at his practiced touch.
Heâd lowered his voice to that deep, rumbly register he always used when he was building towards the next phase. His DM voice, as he so affectionately dubbed it. Rough and gravely, yet even and tempered, guiding both you and the audience along on the journey of this fuck.
âI hope you donât mind me sayingâŠbut your husbandâs a jackass for missings out on this.â
Your heartbeat picked up in your chest as he moved to your thighs. His fingertips dug into your flesh, kneading it like dough, letting his thumbs swerve dangerously close to your center.
âYou deserve someone who puts you firstâŠwho knows what he has and worships youâŠâ
One of his thumbs swiped briefly over your puffy lips, and you knew he felt how wet you were.
âYou know, Iâd never let you out of my sight if you were mineâŠâ
His words dripped slowly and intentionally past his lips, his hands creeping higher and higher up your legs. At last, they slid over the globes of your ass and he groaned as he squeezed one in each hand, spreading you apart to see your center, soaked with arousal that had been pooling there, truth be told, from the moment Eddie had told you how beautiful you looked.Â
You heard Eddieâs next line in your head before he said it, âIf you really want to relax, I can try a very special technique. I donât do it for just anyone. Itâs a little bitâŠunorthodoxâŠâ
And you were more than ready to take him up on his offer once he delivered the line.Â
But Eddie went off script.
Instead of hearing words, you felt the wet heat of his tongue glide through your folds as he buried his face between your spread ass cheeks. Your head popped out of the headrest, letting out a breathy moan of surprise and delight.
The shock on your face was evident as Sammy pushed in close to capture your expression, but so was your pure and utter elation. Youâd never felt anything so good in your lifeâŠ
And it seemed you werenât the only one.
Eddie groaned loudly as he lapped messily at your folds, his spit mixing with your slick that covered the bottom half of his face. And it was only after a few blissful seconds of eager licking that he even realize what heâd done.
âIâmâmmphâsorry, Iâm sorry, Iâm so sorryââ He panted out in between sinful swirls of his tongue, his he words muffled by your ass cheeks because he couldnât stand to pull away even a little, even long enough to speak. âI had to taste youâŠâ
âItâs okay,â you answered, voice already wrecked beyond belief. âItâs okay, just keep goingââ
The command is directed at him as much as it is the crew, who only panicked slightly. Eddie never did stuff like this and they just werenât ready.
They got back on track quickly enough, Sammy signaling the boom mic to get as close as he can without dipping into frame in order to pick up every lurid slurp and suck of Eddieâs mouth.
After no more than a few minutes, the fluffy towel under you was bunched in your fists and your hips squirmed as Eddie continued to eat you out like a mad man. His tight grip on your ass cheeks held fast, spreading you wider still so his tongue could probe deeper. The sounds he pulled out of you didnât even sound human to your ears, let alone recognizable as your own voice.Â
But you didnât care.
However you sounded, however you looked, it was superfluous to what Eddie was doing and the precipice he brought you to. Your orgasm hit harder than any drug, than any physical blow. It had you shaking uncontrollably, reaching back to grip the hair at the crown of his head as your hips pushed back to meet every thrust of his tongue while you rode out your exceptional high.
You felt its tingling sensation spread to every inconsequential inch of your body, like an ocean of fire that crashed over you in wave after wave of scorching pleasure. Drowning you in it.
When you finally found the strength in your limp limbs to roll over onto your back, Eddieâs eyes were waiting to meet yours. You could see on his face how sorry he was, how worried he was heâd fucked up. And you tried to communicate with him in that mind-melding, wordless sort of way you and he always did that it was fineâthat people were going to love it.
Cocking your brow at him, dipping into a more salacious tone to really sell the transformation from demure housewife to lusty adulterer, you threw in a little adlib of your own.
âThatâs some technique youâve got there,â you teased him, propping yourself up on your elbows. âMy husbandâs certainly never done that before.â
Eddieâs sly smile returned, his lips curling as he reached out to grip your waist. He hauled you closer with one jerk, bringing you to the edge of the table so your hips were flush with his. The bulge in his white pants was harder than ever when it pressed against your cunt, and he grinned wickedly when he felt just how ready you were for more. He yanked up the shirttail of his polo and whipped it off his body, tossing it behind him where it landed half in the pool.
âOh, sweetheart,â he tutted softly, âyou ainât seen nothing yet.â
Tysm for reading! đž comments and reblogs keep your skin clear and your crops watered đ«¶đ»
#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie stranger things#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson smut#stranger things au
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Pouge!Sweetheart!Reader and Rafe request! Rafe gets carried away in bed with dirty talk, saying degrading mean stuff about her being a pouge, because he is really horny and she gets a bit taken back because she doesnât know if he truly feels that way about her and he can tell she is a bit standoffish and down after and he doesn't know what he has done :(
warnings: unprotected sex, degradation, light fluff, a little bit of angst, rafe feels rlly bad :(
both you and rafe managed to surprise each other when you two proposed new ideas to spice up your sex life. choking, overstimulation, roleplay, degradation, to name a few. while rafe reassured you that he loved how vanilla you two were in bed, you wanted to be everything and more for him, your own mind a little curious to see where he takes things. the first time rafe decided to rough things up a bit, it brought new sides out of both of you, and you equally loved it. however, you didnât know how to feel about degradation this time around.
âoh, my- please donât stop rafe!â you cried out, the band in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment, your boyfriendâs hips pistoning in and out of you at an unforgiving speed. âso fucking needy, huh? always wanting more like the fucking pogue you are?â his words made you blink, unsure of what he meant by that. you still moaned, his length pressing that spot inside of you that made you tremble. rafe leaned down, taking your lips in a kiss. âyouâre so fucking sexy, who wouldaâ thought a pogue had it like this?â
there he goes again. this time when he kissed you, you didnât move your lips, your mind simply somewhere else. eventually rafe finished, his arms caging you in as he cursed against your skin. thankfully he didnât pay too much attention to your face, instead he pulled you against his chest and spooned you as he whispered sweet nothings in the curve of your neck. he intertwined your fingers, rubbing your back soothingly until you fell asleep.
the next day you woke up early, still feeling off from last night. while rafe was snoring softly, you managed to slip out of his arms, taking it upon yourself to get ready and go out to get breakfast. apart of you felt bad for going out without him, and quite literally leaving your camper without a word, but you needed some space to clear your head. soon enough, your cell was ringing off the hook with calls and voicemails from rafe. when you got back home, rafe was sitting on the little steps outside, his knee bouncing as he chewed on his thumb.
âwhere were you?!â rafe looked confused as you walked past him and inside. âi got breakfast.â you shrugged, your voice barely above a whisper. âbreakfast?â he watched you take a seat on your little couch, his hands on his hips as he stared down at you. rafe didnât know what to think, as far as he knew he thought everything was fine, great even, between you two. âwhatâs wrong?â he sat down, immediately picking up on the way you avoided his gaze. âhey, talk to me, tell me what i did, baby.â he grabbed your chin.
you looked up at him, concern written all over his face. âlast night,â you started, â..you said some things that bothered me.â you swallowed thickly. rafe shut his eyes momentarily. âi was a little thrown off when you mentioned the whole âpogueâ thing.â you watched as the realization dawned on him, a groan leaving his lips as he rested his head in his hands. âfuck,â he cursed, âiâm sorry. i didnât mean anything i said, y/n. i wasnât thinking straight.â he shook his head. you sighed, placing your arms around him.
âeven the part where you said i was sexy?â rafe paused, a laugh tumbling from his mouth as he turned his eyes on you. you were too sweet for your own good. âno, i definitely meant that.â he clarified, resting his forehead on yours. âiâm so sorry if i made you feel bad, that was never my intention.â he hugged you, pulling you onto his lap. you studied his face, knowing he was genuine. âi know you are. itâs okay.â you pecked his lips. âhow about this,â he took your hand, âinstead of us trying to make things ârougherâ why donât we try softer? praise instead of degradation?â
you smiled, nodding at him while he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. â..i canât believe you got breakfast without me.â
#â€ïžâ âč works#âËâč⥠pogue!sweetheart!reader#outer banks#outer banks smut#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks imagine#obx#obx smut#obx fanfiction#obx imagine#obx rafe#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron imagine#rafe fluff#rafe outer banks#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fic#drew starkey
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â Synopsis: After a series of graffiti attacks on your bakery, you find out Jihoon is the vandal behind it, frustrated because your shop's success has outshone his grandma's bakery. â WC: 13k â WARNINGS: enemies to lovers, angst, smut, fluff, physical violence (reader hits jihoon with a mop, vandalism), jealousy, emotional conflict, fingering, blowjob, hair pulling, semi-public sex, cock riding, overwhelming, body fluids (cum), no protection, fetish elementsâbeing painted with grafitty during sex, claiming, mention of an enormous cock on the bakery's wall.
Your arms are crossed in a tight clutch as you stare at the front door of the bakery, the black, fresh tags sprayed across the pastel walls like an ugly bruise. Itâs the same crap, just a new day. The pink and white of your shopâthe delicate aesthetic that drew people inâwas constantly being smeared by some low-life with a spray can. Months of this, and all the cameras ever caught was a faceless guy in a black hoodie. Useless.
With a frustrated sigh, you unlock the door, pushing it open with more force than necessary. The day needed to start, vandalism or not. You open the windows, letting the fresh morning air in. At least the floors were clean, thanks to the obsessive mopping youâd done last night. That had become a habit lately, one of the few things you could control.
You grab a bowl, dumping the ingredients for cake batter in with a bit too much force. Your arm flexes as you whip the fouet through the mix, your irritation guiding every furious stroke. Itâs therapeutic, in a wayâuntil Mingyu walks in.
âAre you... trying to murder the batter?â he asks, amusement clear in his voice as he sets his stuff in the locker. âYouâre about to crack the bowl in half.â
You glance up, still scowling, but the comment catches you off guard. âShuâup, Mingyu. You would be mixing like this too if someone graffitied your walls for the hundredth time.â
âYeah, but I wouldnât be so dramatic about it,â he teases, walking over to grab his apron. âItâs just a little paint. You act like the worldâs ending.â
âItâs not just paint! Itâs every day with this. And itâs not even good graffiti. Itâs just some bullshit tags that donât mean anything.â
Mingyu laughs, shaking his head. âI donât know, some people might say youâre overthinking it. Maybe the artist is just misunderstood. Maybe thereâs a deeper meaning.â
ââEat shitâ has no deeper meaning,â you deadpan, pushing the bowl to the side. âAnd Iâve got a cake due at 3 p.m. Can you please help me with the fondant? I need to leave on time for class.â
âGastronomy waits for no one,â he quips, moving to help you.
You sigh, rubbing your forehead with the back of your hand. âExactly. And if Iâm late, Iâm fucked. So let's get this done.â
Mingyu chuckles, but he gets to work, his hands already busy with rolling out the fondant. âYou ever think of just... catching the guy yourself? Stake out the place or something?â
âYeah, because thatâs a great use of my time,â you mutter. âIâve got school, work, and now this mystery asshole. Besides, what am I supposed to do? Sit outside all night and wait to get jumped?â
âHey, you might scare him off with your mixing technique alone.â
You snort. âAt this point, Iâd rather beat him over the head with the bowl.â
â // NEXT DAY // â
Youâre bent over the counter, carefully arranging the pies and cupcakes in the vitrine, when the bell above the door jingles. The sound makes you straighten up automatically, pasting on your best âwelcome to my bakeryâ smile.
âGood morning! What can I get you today?â you ask, looking up to see Mrs. Yang, one of your more... particular customers. She smiles politely, her bag clutched in one hand, and takes her time approaching the counter.
âGood morning, dear,â she says, her voice too sweet for whatever sheâs about to say next. âIâve been meaning to talk to you about... the situation outside.â
Here we go.
You nod, still smiling like your life depends on it. âYes, weâve been dealing with some, uh... graffiti issues lately.â
Her lips purse. âItâs quite the eyesore, donât you think? Having that sort of thing on the storefront isnât good for business, especially with such a nice bakery like yours. People might get the wrong impression. I wouldnât want to bring my friends here if it continues.â
You feel Mingyuâs eyes on you from the back, wide and alarmed like heâs bracing himself for whatever smartass remark is about to leave your mouth. You can almost hear him holding his breath.
But instead of snapping, you swallow it down. Barely.
âI understand, Mrs. Yang. Weâre working on getting it removed as soon as possible,â you say, your voice calm and professional, even though your brain is screaming, What the hell do you want me to do? Hand-paint the walls every night?
âOh, Iâm sure youâll handle it,â she replies with a thin smile, âYou always do such a lovely job here. Iâll have two of the lemon tarts, please.â
âOf course,â you say, grabbing the tarts and ringing her up, every muscle in your body tense as you try not to explode. âThatâll be $8.50.â
As she leaves, Mingyu sidles up behind you. âYou alright? That looked painful.â
You shoot him a glare. âShut up before I throw a tart at you.â
He just laughs. âHey, props for not biting her head off. Thatâs growth.â
Your day only goes downhill from there.
An order comes in last-minute, right when you're about to head out for a cake delivery, forcing you to juggle too many tasks at once. The fondant on the cake cracks just as youâre trying to finish it, and you nearly drop the entire thing when youâre loading it into the car. By the time you deliver it, you're ten minutes late, and the client is tapping her foot like you ruined her wedding or something.
As you drive away, you notice that some idiot in the parking lot nicked the side of your car with their door. The scrape is fresh, ugly, and just another thing you donât have time to deal with.
By the time you make it to the university, youâre on edge. Every little thing is pissing you offâthe late delivery, the car, Mrs. Yangâs passive-aggressive comments replaying in your head.
You stomp into the classroom, tossing your bag on the desk as you take your seat. Your friend, Jiyeon, looks up from her notes, immediately catching the âIâm about to lose itâ vibe radiating from you.
âWoah, woah... Donât talk to me,â you say, waving her off before she even opens her mouth.
She raises her hands in mock surrender, exasperated. âOkay, okay, damn. I wasnât even gonna say anything!â
From the corner of your eye, you catch the guy sitting next to you glancing over. Heâs half-smirking, like heâs amused by your bad mood. You roll your eyes as you pull your utensils from your bag.
âThe hell you lookinâ at?â you snap, not really in the mood for whatever attitude heâs giving you.
He just raises an eyebrow, unfazed. âNothing. Chill.â
You huff, biting your tongue. âWhatever, man.â
As class starts, you try to focus on the lecture, but it feels like everything is stacking up, one annoying thing after another. Youâre counting down the hours until you can get out of here and back to the bakery, where at least you can take your frustrations out on some dough.
[...]
The bakery is finally quiet. Youâve set the doughs to rest for tomorrow, turned off the colorful lights, and now itâs just you, the mop, and the hum of the radio. Thereâs something peaceful about the dark bakeryâlike itâs resting, too, after a long, chaotic day. The floorâs slick beneath the mop as you drag it in lazy strokes, the apron around your neck, always too tight, was finally off.
Itâs quiet out there too. Rush hourâs over, people are strolling by in pretty scarves, leaving their cubicles for the day. Not that youâd ever want that life. That could never be youâthis was your space, your bakery. Youâd rather be here, mopping your own floors than stuck in some windowless office.
Even if your apronâs been digging into your neck all damn day. You rub at the sore spot, sighing, whenâ
Wait.
What the fuck? You squint, eyes narrowing as some guy steps right up to your bakery window, a paint can in hand. You watch in disbelief as he starts spraying. Right on your wall. Again.
You donât even think. You just move. The front glass door slams open so hard the bell almost flies off, the aggressive clatter echoing behind you as you stomp out, mop still in hand.
âYA! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?â
The guy barely turns, but itâs too late. Youâre already swinging. The wooden handle of your mop cracks across his back with a satisfying thud, and he lets out this startled grunt, almost tripping over his own feet. You swing again, harder this time, and it echoes across the empty street. Even the homeless guy across the roadâthe one you always give leftover tarts toâjumps in his spot, startled.
âWhat the fuck, you asshole! You think this is funny?!â you yell, swinging the mop at him again as he ducks, letting out an âouchâ with each hit. âYou keep tagging my walls, and Iâm the one paying for this shit! Do you even know how much it costs to get this cleaned? Huh?!â
âOuch, fuck! Stop, STOP!â he stammers, arms up, trying to shield himself.
You donât stop. Youâre done with this day, done with this week, done with this punk-ass artist ruining your bakeryâs vibe. âYou piece of shit! Youâre dead! Iâm gonna shove this can so far up yourââ
âWhat the hell?!â the guy stumbles, trying to dodge your swings, but youâre relentless.
âYou think you can just waltz in and spray whatever dumb shit you want? Youâre gonna clean this up with your tongue, you littleââ
Before you can deliver another hit, the guy turns around, and his hood falls back. Your breath catches.
âJihoon?!â
The guy grimaces, rubbing his back where youâve practically beat the soul out of him, but itâs definitely him. The same Jihoon you snapped at in class today, the same Jihoon you barely tolerate during group projects. The fucker whoâs been defacing your bakery.
You blink, still holding the mop in a death grip. âSo it was you, you fucking idiot?! Youâve been doing this the whole time?!â
He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, still smirking like this is some kind of joke. âWell... I wouldnât say the whole time.â
âYouââ You jab the mop handle at him again, making him flinch. âYouâre going to clean this up. I donât care how. Hell, you can start with your tongue if youâre so attached to your damn art.â
âWoah, woah.â He holds his hands up in surrender, backing up a step. âI didnât think youâd take it so personally. I mean, itâs just paint.â
âJust paint?â you repeat, incredulous. âIâve had customers complain, the cityâs sent me notices, and youâre out here calling it just paint? Are you fucking insane?â
âCome on, the tags arenât that bad.â
âOh, no. Theyâre shit. Like, the worst shit Iâve ever seen,â you bite out.Â
You cross your arms, staring Jihoon down as he leans awkwardly against the wall.Â
âYou know what? I should call the police on you.â
His eyes go wide, his posture straightening instantly. âNo, no, no! Come on, donât do that!â
You slowly pull your phone from your back pocket, waving it in front of him as you point a finger at his chest. âI think itâs about time you get whatâs coming to you.â
Panic flashes across his face, and he lunges forward, trying to grab your phone, but you thrust the mop at his chest, pressing it against him to keep him at bay. âBack off!â
He stumbles back, frowning, his lips jutting out in a sulk. âI donât wanna go to jail! I donât wanna sleep in the cold!â His feet stomp on the ground like a child throwing a tantrum, the whole thing looking ridiculous enough that anyone watching might think this was an opening scene from The Office.
You ignore his whining and start dialing, but he wonât shut up. âPlease! You canât let me go to jail over some paint!â
âYou shouldâve thought about that before tagging my bakery again.â You cut him off, giving him a pointed look. âWhy the hell have you been doing this? And donât think I didnât notice the enormous dick spray-painted on the back of my shop either.â
Jihoon stays quiet for a moment, avoiding your eyes as he shifts on his feet. His hands fidget with the hem of his sweatshirt, and you narrow your eyes, sensing something off.
âWell? Spit it out,â you demand.
He mumbles something, so low you can barely hear.Â
You raise an eyebrow, stepping closer. âWhat?â
His face goes red, and he mutters again, âOnly if... you let me try one of your tarts.â
You blink, leaning in closer. âWhat was that? Speak up, punk.â
Jihoon sighs, cheeks practically glowing. âI said... I want to try one of your tarts, okay?!â
For a second, you just stare at him, completely dumbfounded. Then, you scoff, rolling your eyes. âAre you serious right now?â
He nods, keeping his head down, looking smaller and more pathetic than you ever imagined he could.
âYouâre telling me... you come here, paint my walls like a little delinquent, and now you want a fucking tart? Youââ
You breathe in, trying to summon every ounce of patience you have left. The tarts are your best sellersâthe buttery crust, fresh fruit, and creamy filling that made your bakery famous not just in the neighborhood but all over town. People raved about them, coming from across the city just to get their hands on one. Hell, students from your college made regular stops just to bring some back to class.
Your shoulders sag in exasperation, but you eventually gesture toward the door. âFine. Get inside.â
Jihoon looks up, surprised but not daring to push his luck. You flip the lights back on, the bakery coming to life once more. Heading to the back, you grab a fresh tart from the display, muttering curses under your breath as you shout, âWhich one do you want?â
âStrawberry!â he calls out.
You grab a pink plate and set the tart delicately in the center, placing it on the counter with one of your signature gold-colored forks and a neatly folded napkin. When you walk over to the table Jihoon picked, nestled in a corner, you notice him glancing around the bakery with a curious expression, taking in the space like heâs never seen it properly before.
He sits down, eyeing the tart suspiciously at first. You cross your arms and sit across from him, your foot bouncing impatiently under the table. You canât help but suppress an inner smileâevery customer had the same reaction to their first bite, and youâre secretly waiting for it.
Jihoon picks up the fork, hesitantly cutting into the tart. As soon as the buttery crust gives way, the scent of fresh strawberries and sweet cream fills the air. He takes a bite, and his eyes widen almost immediately. He chews slowly, like heâs processing the taste, his expression changing from sulky to... amazed.
âHoly shit,â he murmurs under his breath, glancing up at you, eyes wide. âThis is... really good.â
You lean back, crossing your arms tighter. âYeah. Thatâs what people keep saying.â
He takes another bite, and then another, clearly trying not to devour the whole thing in two seconds. His face softens, the usual smugness gone, replaced by genuine awe. He looks around the bakery again, understanding slowly sinking in. The care you put into every detailâthe soft lighting, the warmth, the way the scent of fresh-baked goods fills the air. Itâs no wonder other bakeries in the area couldnât compete.
No wonder people kept coming back.
Jihoon finally looks up, sheepish but impressed.Â
You shift in your seat, arms still crossed, and stare at Jihoon as he wipes his mouth with the napkin, setting it down with a quiet sigh. He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, his posture heavy with something unsaid.
âSo⊠you gonna tell me why youâve been punking my bakery?â you ask, your voice less biting than before, though the edge is still there.
Jihoon hesitates, glancing out the window for a moment like heâs trying to gather his thoughts. Finally, he sighs again. âWe had a bakery, me and my grandma. It was right across the street.â
You frown, your head tilting slightly as you turn to glance outside through the window. Yeah, you remembered that place. It had that old-school charm, the kind of bakery that felt like a cozy throwback to the 60s, with its wooden benches and rustic signage. It had been there before you moved into the neighborhood. You even remembered the old lady that used to work there, always with a smile, though her hands were slow and her voice even slower. The front of the bakery had been boarded up for months now, closed and forgotten by most.
Jihoon continues, his voice lower. âBefore you opened up, we did well. My grandmaâs tarts were, like, the thing around here. People came from all over to buy them.â He pauses, and you see his shoulders drop slightly. âBut after your tarts took off⊠we started losing customers. A lot of them.â
You donât say anything, but the tension in the air thickens. You swallow, suddenly feeling an uncomfortable weight in your chest. You remember seeing them sitting outside their shop, the once-busy bakery now quiet as yours boomed with success.
âWe tried to keep up,â Jihoon says, his voice a little shaky. âBut no one came in anymore. People stopped buying our stuff. My grandma and I used to just sit there on the bench, watching people line up outside your place while we were lucky to sell a couple tarts.â He laughs, but itâs hollow, like heâs mocking the memory. âSheâd pretend it didnât bother her, but I knew. I knew it killed her inside.â
You feel a knot form in your stomach, guilt creeping in even though you know it wasnât really your fault. Still, hearing it from him, the weight of their loss, makes you look down at the table, feeling suddenly small.
âWhat was I supposed to do?â you ask softly, the words barely escaping your mouth. âThis was my dream too.â
Jihoon nods, almost like he understands, though thereâs still bitterness in his tone. âI know. And itâs not like you did anything wrong. Your bakery is⊠well, people love it. They loved your tarts. And I guess, after a while, I just got so⊠mad.â
He looks down at his hands, twisting his fingers together. âWe had to close the bakery. We couldnât keep up. And I started working in the city, doing graffiti, whatever I could to make ends meet.â He shakes his head, laughing without humor again. âAnd when I saw people still lining up here, day after day, it just⊠pissed me off. So I started tagging your walls. Stupid, I know.â
You feel a lump in your throat, the weight of his words hitting you harder than you expected. You glance back out the window, seeing the boarded-up bakery in the distance, and it stirs something deep inside. His frustration, his anger⊠it all makes sense now.
âI didnât understand,â Jihoon says, his voice softer now, almost defeated. âI couldnât figure out how your tarts were better than my grandmaâs. It didnât make sense to me. Weâd been here for years. How could people just forget about us?â He pauses, rubbing the back of his neck, his expression sad. âBut now I get it. I guess⊠your tarts really are better.â
The way he says it, with that empty laugh, hits you right in the chest. Thereâs no joy in his voice, no real acceptance, just this sad realization that his familyâs legacy had been outdone by you.
You lower your gaze, feeling awful. âJihoonâŠâ You want to say something, anything, to ease the guilt gnawing at you, but what could you even say? You worked hard for this. It wasnât like you meant to destroy his bakery. But itâs clear now that, in a way, you did.
âI never meant for this to happen,â you mumble, your voice quieter than you intended. âItâs not like I wanted to take business away from you guys.â
He waves it off, but his eyes donât meet yours. âI know. Itâs just how it worked out. You did what you had to do. I just⊠I didnât know what else to do but get mad at you for it.â
The silence between you is thick, heavy with unsaid things. Jihoon keeps his gaze on the table, his fingers playing with the edges of the napkin, while you try to process the weight of everything he just said.
And as much as you want to feel justifiedâafter all, you didnât do anything wrongâthereâs a part of you that canât shake the sadness settling deep in your chest. You glance out the window again, at the closed shop across the street, and for the first time, you wonder what it mustâve been like for them, watching your bakery rise while theirs fell apart.
Jihoonâs voice pulls you out of your thoughts. âI donât know⊠itâs dumb. You didnât mean to screw us over. I just⊠I just miss the way things used to be.â
You breathe in deeply, trying to push down the growing lump in your throat.Â
The silence between you two lingers, stretching out like the stillness of the night outside. You can hear the faint hum of the refrigerator behind the counter, the quiet ticking of the clock on the wall. You breathe in, thinking of something to say, and for a moment, Jihoon glances up at you, expectant. But when you close your mouth again, he looks away, fingers fidgeting with the napkin.
Finally, you place your hand on the wooden table between you, the sound of your fingers brushing the grain breaking the silence. "What kind of tarts did your grandma sell?" you ask, voice steady but curious.
Jihoon frowns, clearly taken off guard by the question. "Savory ones," he says after a beat, as if testing the waters of the conversation.
Your brow lifts in surprise. Savory tarts werenât really your thingâyou specialized in the sweet stuff. "Savory?" you lean in a bit, curiosity piqued. "Like what?"
Jihoon seems to hesitate, unsure of where youâre going with this, but then he starts listing them off, voice soft at first but growing stronger. "Palm heart or olives, ham, and cheese, sometimes weâd do quiches with bacon and caramelized onions, even some seasonal ones with pumpkin or sweet potato⊠Stuff like that."
You sit back, letting the list of flavors settle in your mind, gears turning. Youâd never considered offering savory tarts beforeâyour bakery was known for its sweets. But maybe that was part of the problem. There was a whole side of the tart game you hadnât even touched.
"You think you could make some of those flavors and bring them tomorrow?" you ask, your tone casual as you rest your chin in your hand.
Jihoon frowns deeper, confused, his head tilting to the side. "Yeah, I think so. Why?"
You chew your lip for a second, glancing around your bakery, imagining it filled with the rich, hearty smells of savory tarts instead of the usual sugar and cream. "I was thinking maybe we could try something⊠an experiment," you say, eyes lighting up as you lean forward. "You bring the savory ones, Iâll sell them in the display, right alongside the sweet ones. See how people like them."
Jihoon blinks at you, processing your words, and for a moment, you see a flicker of disbelief in his eyes, like he canât quite wrap his head around what youâre suggesting. "You⊠you wanna sell my grandmaâs tarts here?"
You nod, the idea already snowballing in your mind. "Yeah, why not? People around here are crazy for the sweets, but maybe theyâve just never had the chance to try something savory. And you know I donât do that kind of thing, so⊠itâd be different." You pause, watching his face, which is slowly starting to shift from confusion to something brighter. "Weâll call it a collab or something. Give them a taste of what your bakery used to offer."
His eyes light up, sparkling with excitement as the idea sinks in. The hesitation that was there before vanishes, replaced with genuine enthusiasm. "Really?" He leans forward, hands gripping the edge of the table. "You think⊠people would like them?"
"If theyâre as good as you say they are," you grin, tapping your fingers on the table, "then yeah, I think they will."
Jihoonâs face softens, and for the first time tonight, a real smile spreads across his lips. Itâs small at first, but thereâs something genuine and almost childlike about it, like you just handed him a lifeline he wasnât expecting. "Theyâre really, really good," he says earnestly, nodding. "My grandma used to get people coming back for them all the time. They were, like, her specialty."
"Then bring enough for tomorrow," you say, feeling a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth despite yourself. "Weâll put them out, see what happens. Maybe itâll bring some of her old customers back."
He looks at you like youâve just flipped the entire script on him. The guy whoâd been tagging your bakery out of spite now suddenly has a shot at redemption, and itâs written all over his face. You can see the wheels turning in his head, his excitement barely contained.
"How many do you need?" he asks, voice filled with an eagerness you hadnât seen in him before.
You pause, thinking for a second. "Start smallâmaybe a couple dozen to test the waters. If they sell out, weâll know weâre onto something."
Jihoon nods rapidly, his excitement bubbling over. "I can do that. I can bring, like, the spinach and feta ones. Those were super popular. And maybe the mushroom ones too. People loved those." Heâs rambling now, his hands gesturing wildly as he talks. "You think theyâll like them? I mean, people around here are kinda obsessed with sweet stuff, but these⊠these are different."
You laugh softly, watching him get more and more animated. "I think if theyâre as good as you say, people are gonna be lining up for them. And who knows? Maybe savory tarts will be the next big thing."
Jihoon sits back, grinning like he canât believe this is real. "I canât believe youâre actually doing this." His eyes flicker over the bakery, taking in the pink and white dĂ©cor, the polished countertops, the faint smell of sugar still lingering in the air. "I thought youâd just tell me to fuck off, honestly."
You shrug, smiling slightly. "Well, I did wanna hit you with a mop earlier. But⊠I donât know. It seems like the least I can do after everything."
He stares at you, his grin softening into something more serious, more genuine. "Thanks," he says quietly, and you can tell that he means it. "I⊠I really judged you wrong."
You wave him off, but inside, thereâs a warmth spreading, something that feels almost like⊠relief? Like maybe this little experiment could be more than just businessâit could be a way to right some wrongs.
"Just bring your best game tomorrow," you say, standing up from the table. "If your grandmaâs tarts are half as good as you say, Iâm sure people will love them."
Jihoon stands too, still grinning like a kid on Christmas. "Oh, they will. Trust me." His eyes sparkle with that confidence again, and for the first time, it feels like youâre seeing the real him, not the guy whoâs been tagging your bakery out of anger.
As you walk him to the door, you glance back at the kitchen, already imagining the savory tarts lining the shelves next to your usual sweets. This could be something big, something newâsomething that might even help mend the bridge between you two.
Jihoon pauses at the door, turning back to you with a grin. "Tomorrow, then. You wonât regret this."
The next morning, Jihoon arrives at your bakery with a box, the warmth of the tarts and quiches radiating from inside. You grin as you lift the lid, the smellof the buttery crust wafting out. Carefully, you place them in the display, arranging them neatly beside your sweets.
Jihoon moves towards the door without saying a word, but before he can leave, you raise your voice, âWhere are you going?â
He pauses and steps back in, bending down to pick up a bucket of paint remover and a brush from outside. âGonna get rid of the mess,â he says with a shrug, shaking the supplies in his hand.
You scoff, leaning against the counter. âLooks like hitting you with the mop actually worked.â You raise an eyebrow, arms crossed.
He freezes, his eyes widening a little, like he just remembered something. âHey! You!â he protests, gesturing to his back. âIâm my back its black and blue thanks to you! My back its ruined.â
You roll your eyes, a smirk tugging at your lips. âServes you right,â you shoot back, and Jihoon huffs, but thereâs a playful glint in his eyes as he heads outside to scrub off the tags.
As the morning rush starts, a couple of your regulars approach the counter, eyeing the new items. One of them, Mrs. Park, furrows her brow. "Whatâs all this?" she asks, nodding to the savory tarts.
You flash her a smile, "Weâre doing a little collab with Jihoonâs family bakery. They used to sell these savory tarts, and we thought we'd give them a try here. You should taste them, theyâre amazing."
Mrs. Park raises an eyebrow but picks up one of the tarts anyway. Within minutes, word spreads, and before you know it, the dozen savory tarts you put out are goneâpeople even leaving with extras for home. You lean against the counter, watching the buzz, satisfaction building in your chest.
As the rush dies down, you step outside where Jihoon is wiping down the wall, now tag-free. You smirk. "Sold everything," you say, watching his reaction.
His eyebrows shoot up, eyes wide. âReally?!â
You nod. âYeah, they went faster than I thought. Even Mingyu couldnât keep his hands off them,â you say, pointing through the window where Mingyu is, mid-bite, munching happily on a tart behind the counter.
Jihoon laughs, shaking his head as he looks at Mingyu, then back at you. "Iâve got more ready at my grandmaâs place. I can go grab them now."
"Do it," you say with a grin, waving him off. âBring a lot. I donât think theseâll last long.â
An hour later, Jihoon returns, but this time heâs not alone. His grandma, the sweet old lady you remember from the bakery across the street, is with him. You light up when you see her.
"Mrs. Lee!" you greet her warmly.Â
She smiles, her eyes crinkling as she gives you a gentle hug. "Youâve done so well with this place," she says, looking around the bakery.
As you help unload the box of fresh tarts, you see Mingyuâs eyes widen as he watches you set them out again, his mouth practically watering. He reaches for one, but you swat his hand away.
"Those are to sell," you scold playfully, but before you can follow up, Mrs. Lee reaches up and pats Mingyu on the head.
"Eat, eat, youâre a big boy. You need it," she says, and Mingyu, towering over her, grins sheepishly as he lowers his head.
"Yes, maâam," he says with a boyish smile, clearly charmed.
With the tarts restocked, the afternoon turns out to be just as busy as the morning. People are coming in and out, curious about the new savory options, and before you know it, theyâre sold out again.
After the rush dies down and the shift ends, you pull out the cash notes, counting how much youâve made for the day. You walk over to Jihoon, handing him a stack of money.
"Here, this is how much we sold, minus the cost of ingredients," you say, but Jihoon waves his hand, shaking his head.
"Nah, donât do that," he says, clearly uncomfortable. "Itâs your bakery. Iâm just helping out."
You raise an eyebrow, folding your arms. "You think Iâm not gonna pay you for your grandmaâs recipes? Donât be stupid."
He fidgets, glancing down. âI donât deserve it,â he mumbles, but you cut him off.
"Come on. You think of reopening your grandmaâs bakery again?"
He hesitates, then nods slowly. "Iâve been thinking about it. But thereâs a lot to clean up, fixâŠ"
You lean back, thinking for a moment. âWell, while you figure it out, how about you use my bakery to sell your savory stuff? We can split the profits and see how it goes. Maybe that way, youâll get enough to fix it.â
Jihoonâs eyes widen, gratitude spreading across his face. "You⊠youâd let me do that?"
You shrug. "Why not? People love your stuff, and Iâve got space. Plus, this way, we both win."
His lips part, disbelief still etched on his face, but then his shoulders relax, and a small smile forms. "I donât know what to say. Thank you."
"Donât thank me yet," you say, grinning. "We still gotta get through tomorrow."
He laughs, the tension that had been hanging between you since the whole graffiti incident finally easing. "I guess Iâll be back here early with more tarts, then."
"Bright and early," you reply, with a playful nod. "And donât forget to bring your grandma too. Mingyu might cry if she doesnât show up."
Jihoon chuckles, glancing at Mingyu whoâs in the back, still wiping tart crumbs from his face. "I think youâre right about that."
As Jihoon and his grandma leave, youâre left standing in your bakery, the warm glow of the lights reflecting off the now pristine windows.Â
The next morning, Jihoon shows up right on time, his grandmaâs small hand wrapped around his arm as they step into the bakery. Thereâs something heartwarming about the sightâthe way she leans on him, and how he effortlessly balances the heavy box of tarts in his other hand. You catch a glimpse of the pure affection between them, the kind only grandparents seem to have for their grandkids, and it makes you feel... softer.
Jihoon flashes you a quick, almost shy smile as he sets the box on the counter, the warmth of the freshly baked tarts instantly filling the room. You move to help him, opening the glass case of the vitrine. As you lean in to arrange the tarts, his arm brushes against yours, just barely. Itâs nothing, reallyâjust a quick touchâbut you bite back a smile anyway. The warmth of it, the quiet ease, feels nice. Comfortable.
Outside, the rain begins to pour, pattering against the windows. It's not the gloomy kind of rain, thoughâitâs the kind that makes people crave warm spaces, a place to settle into with a coffee in hand. Your bakery, with its soft yellow lighting and the sweet smell of tarts mingling in the air, feels like the perfect refuge. You can already see a few people huddling under umbrellas as they make their way inside, the little bell above the door chiming each time.
Jihoon steps back, his eyes following yours as you arrange the tarts in perfect rows. âLooks good,â he murmurs, glancing over at you.
âYeah,â you agree, trying to sound casual, though your voice is a bit quieter than usual. You clear your throat. âRainâs gonna bring people in. Theyâll want something warm.â
Almost as if on cue, the door swings open with a gust of wet air, and your best friend stumbles inside, panting, her umbrella flung into the holder by the door. She shakes the rain off her coat and makes a beeline for the counter, eyes wide.
âI heard youâre selling savory tarts now,â she exclaims, nearly breathless.
You shoot her a look, half-amused. âWord spreads fast around here, hm?â
She leans on the counter, eyes scanning the new additions in the vitrine like sheâs sizing them up. âYou know me. Iâve got my ear to the ground,â she says, grinning. Her gaze shifts to Jihoon, whoâs still standing behind you. âAnd you,â she says, her tone turning teasing, âfinally decided to be useful, huh?â
Jihoon just rolls his eyes, but you can see a flicker of amusement there. âIâm useful in ways you donât even know,â he mutters under his breath, barely loud enough for you to hear, but it makes you smirk.
Your friend raises an eyebrow. âOh, Iâm sure,â she quips, pulling out her wallet. âAlright, give me one of those tarts. Letâs see if theyâre worth the hype.â
You grab a tartâspinach and cheese, her favoriteâand hand it to her on a small plate. She takes one bite, her eyes widening dramatically. âOh my god,â she says, mouth half full. âOkay, this⊠this is dangerous. You canât sell these, Iâll be here every day.â
You laugh, watching her devour the tart. Jihoon leans against the counter next to you, arms crossed, a little smug. âTold you they were good,â he murmurs.
The steady rain outside only adds to the cozy vibe, making the bakery feel like a warm little haven. More customers trickle in, shaking off their umbrellas and ordering coffees to go with the new savory tarts. Some regulars ask about the new addition, and you tell them about the collaboration with Jihoon and his grandma. Itâs casual, like youâre letting them in on a little secret, and soon enough, people are lining up to try them.
As you work, you can feel Jihoonâs presence behind you, quietly helping out where he canârefilling the display, wiping down tables, clearing plates. Itâs kind of funny, actually. Not long ago, this same guy was spray-painting the walls of your bakery like a punk, and now here he is, setting tarts in your vitrine, his arm brushing against yours, acting like part of the team.
Your friend finishes her tart and slides the plate back toward you, wiping her mouth with a napkin. âOkay, I gotta go before I eat the whole case,â she says, shooting you a wink. She glances at Jihoon as she grabs her umbrella. âYou better keep bringing these, or weâll have problems.â
Jihoon smirks, giving her a mock salute. âIâll keep âem coming.â
As she leaves, you watch the bakery fill with warmth, laughter, and the soft hum of conversations. The rain taps against the windows, the outside world grey and wet, while the inside is alive with comfort. You lean against the counter, watching Jihoonâs grandma chatting with a customer. Itâs kind of perfect, in a wayâeverything just falling into place.
After the lunch rush, Jihoon catches your eye, his expression a little sheepish. "Theyâre really selling, huh?"
You smile, a little proud. "Yeah. Told you theyâd be a hit."
He chuckles, shaking his head. "Guess I underestimated this place."
âItâs kinda nice having you around... even if you are a pain in the ass.â
He snorts, rolling his eyes but not disagreeing. âYou just like bossing me around.â
âI do,â you admit with a grin. âAnd youâre getting pretty good at following orders.â
Jihoon laughs, shaking his head as he picks up a rag to wipe down the counter. "Yeah, yeah. Iâll bring more tomorrow."
The evening was quiet, just the hum of the fridge and the faint swoosh of the mop gliding across the floor. You were halfway through cleaning when your foot nudged something under the counter. Frowning, you crouched down and pulled out a boxâheavy, clinking insideâand when you opened it, there they were. Paint cans.
You tilted your head, staring at them, then shouted, "Jihoon! What the hell is this?"
He popped out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. âUh... well, I was thinking... maybe the bakery could use a littleâart,â he said hesitantly, his eyes darting from the cans to you.
"Art?" you raised an eyebrow, hands resting on your hips. "You're not gonna draw a dick on the front door, are you? 'Cause if that's your plan, Jihoon, I swearâ"
He scoffed, rolling his eyes. âNo! It wasnât me, alright? That was one of my friends.â
Your eyebrow shot up even higher. "So you had your friends tag my bakery too?"
He suppressed a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. âI yelled sorry, like, a million times already.â
You shook your head, though a small smile tugged at your lips. âUnbelievable.â
Jihoon stepped closer, eyes scanning your expression carefully. âLook, I promiseâno dicks. I was thinking... something different. Something that matches the vibe here. I could paint something... that looks like you.â His gaze lingered on you, analyzing your features like he was already sketching you out in his mind.
You sat back, considering it. The idea of graffiti on your pristine bakery wasnât exactly appealing, but there was something about Jihoonâs offer... the way he was looking at you, not like a cocky vandal but like someone who wanted to create something for you.
You frowned, arms crossed, skeptical. âYou? Graffiti something that looks like me? Youâre kidding.â
He shrugged, stepping back slightly. âLet me show you. Iâll do it on the back wall. Something pastel, something sweetâlike your bakery.â
You huffed, but curiosity got the better of you. âFine. But if it looks like shit, youâre cleaning it up, Jihoon.â
Outside, the air was crisp, and the dim lights of the street barely reached the back alley behind your bakery. Jihoon grabbed the cans, setting them down with a focused energy, his jaw tight. He was different when he worked on somethingâserious, quiet. You watched as he started to shake one of the cans, the metallic rattle filling the space.Â
He started to sweat after a few strokes of the spray, his arm flexing each time he pressed the nozzle. The light from the back door illuminated his face, and when he flicked his hair to the side, it reminded you of those boys from high school, the ones who all had that Justin Bieber haircut. You couldnât help but smirk at the thought.
He stepped back, turning toward you, his eyes searching your face. âSo... what do you think?â
You tilted your head, focusing on the paint. It was a pastel-colored slice of cake, detailed with delicate swirls and shadows that made it look almost real. âThe... strawberry looks a little weird,â you pointed out, walking closer.
Jihoon let out a soft laugh, stepping aside. âCome help me then. You fix it.â
You scoffed, shaking your head. "Me? I donât know how to spray paint, Jihoon. Itâs gonna look like a five-year-old did it."
He waved it off, walking toward you with the can in hand. âNah, you can do it. Câmere.â
Before you could protest, he was already pulling you out of the chair, placing the can in your hand. âJust like this,â he murmured, stepping behind you. His chest pressed lightly against your back, close enough that you could feel his breath on your ear. His hand moved to yours, guiding your fingers to press down on the nozzle, and the paint sprayed out in a clean line. "Here," he murmured, his voice low. "Press gently... just like that."
âSee?â he whispered, his voice right in your ear, and you could feel the concentration in his breath, how calm it was. âNot so hard, is it?â
You were too aware of everythingâhis breath, his hand on yours, the way his body pressed just slightly against yours, not enough to feel too much, but enough to make your pulse pick up.
His hand, now on your waist, gave you the faintest squeeze, right where your skin showed between your top and your jeans, right where your shirt had ridden up a little. It was an absent touch, almost like he didnât even realize he was doing it. But you did. His fingers were warm, the pressure light but there. Your breath caught in your throat for a second.
You bit your lip, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. His hand never moved, just stayed resting on your waist, a quiet but steady reminder of how close he was. The paint kept flowing, and you realized you were barely focused on the mural anymore. It was all Jihoon. The way his body moved with yours, the brush of his breath against your ear.
âJihoon,â you whispered, voice low, just to see what kind of reaction youâd get. "You sure you're not just getting handsy with me to avoid doing the work?"
He huffed a small laugh, right in your ear, his breath warm. âYou think this is me being handsy? Iâm just trying to teach you something.â
You raised an eyebrow, leaning back a little more, just enough to feel him tense up. His hips were snug against yours, and you could feel the smallest reaction in his body, the way his chest rose sharply as you pressed back into him.
"Uh-huh,â you said, feigning innocence. âSo thatâs why you sound like youâre having the best time of your life right now? Not exactly subtle, Jihoon.â
He scoffed, his mouth so close to your ear that you flinched a bit. "Says the one who's shivering under my arm like Iâm doing more than just helping you paint.â
You let out a soft chuckle, your head leaning back just a little, the movement making his face brush against your shoulder. You could feel his breath catch again as your body pressed back.
âJihoonâŠâ you said, voice dropping an octave. âIf I didnât know any better, Iâd say youâre trying real hard not to moan in my ear.â
His breath hitched, and this time, you felt it. His body tensed, the can in his hand wavering slightly as he pressed the nozzle. He was tryingâtrying so damn hard to stay focused on the paint, but your words were getting to him. His grip tightened on the can.
He lowered your arm, stopping the spray of paint, and you could feel the tension crackling between you both. His hand lingered on yours for a moment, and then he turned his head slightly, his lips brushing the edge of your jaw as he whispered, âYou keep teasing me like that, Iâll forget the painting and pin you to this wall.â
Your heart skipped a beat at the low rumble in his voice, letting your ass push against him again. You give him a slow, teasing smile, turning your head just enough to look at him out of the corner of your eye. âAnd if I told you I wouldnât mind?â
Jihoonâs eyes flicked down to your lips, then back to your eyes, in a blink, he turned you around, the paint can clattering to the floor as his hand slid to your waist, pulling you flush against him.
His lips hovered over yours for just a second, his breath mingling with yours, tension thick in the air. âYou're playing with fire, you know that?â he murmured, his voice low and rough.
You smirked, your hands resting on his chest, feeling the heat of him through his shirt. âThen burn me.â
His lips crashed against yours in a starved kiss, his hands gripped your waist tighter, pulling you closer, and you could feel the heat radiating off him, his body pressed so close it felt like there wasnât an inch between you.
Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him down harder into the kiss, feeling the tension melt away from his shoulders. His hands roamed over your back, slipping under your shirt, his touch burning your skin as he kissed you deeper, rougher, like he couldnât get enough.Â
His body pressed you against the wall, his hips fitting perfectly against yours, and you could feel his cock coming to life. The slight tremor in his hands as they roamed your sides, the way his breath hitched when you kissed him harderâit was all there, barely restrained.
His lips were warm, tasting faintly like the strawberries and honey from earlier, and every time you tried to pull back for air, he chased you, his lips crashing back against yours like he couldnât stand the space between you for even a second.Â
Finally, when you both pulled away for breath, your foreheads resting together, you smirked, your breath still uneven. âYou okay there, Jihoon? You look like youâre about to lose it.â
He chuckled, his hand still gripping your waist, but there was no humor in his eyes. âYou talk too much,â he muttered, pulling you back in for another kiss before you could even think of another comeback.
You could feel the wetness of his tongue against yours, slick with saliva that started to pool at the corners of your mouth as you sucked it in deeper. Jihoonâs hand was firm, gripping the curve of your ass, his other arm wrapped tight around your waist as if he couldnât let go even if he tried.
You stumbled backward in a tangle of steps, the two of you moving like you were magnetized to each other, lips fused together, completely unwilling to separate. His hand squeezed your ass hard, making you gasp into his mouth. That soundâthe desperate little moan you couldnât hold backâhad him groaning too, swallowing the noise like it fueled him, pressing you harder against the door to the back of the store.
Jihoon fumbled for the handle, blindly opening it while keeping his mouth glued to yours. You barely noticed when he shoved you through the threshold, into the bakeryâs quiet salon. He didnât break the kiss, not even for a second, not until your back hit the counter and he pressed himself against you again, trapping you between him and the cold wood.
You were breathless, desperate to kiss him harder, to get more of those sweet, low moans he made when your lips connected just right. It wasnât until you felt his hand slipping between you that you realized what he was doing. Somehow, in the heat of it all, he had already undone your jeans, his fingers deftly sliding the button free, his hand dipping lower, teasing the waistband of your panties.
"Fuck, Jihoon," you panted, head thrown back as his lips trailed along your jaw. You shivered when you felt his hand slipping under the lace, fingers ghosting over the sensitive skin. You felt your sink boiling, the warm air from the bakery making you sweat down your neck.Â
âFeels good, doesnât it?â he murmured, more like moaning.Â
The jeans you still had on were tight, too tight, and it made it impossible for you to spread your legs the way you wanted. The friction of his hand between you was good, but not nearly enough.
You shifted against him, trying to spread your legs wider, your breath coming out in frustrated little pants. "Jihoon," you managed, voice almost pleading, "jeans... get them off."
His lips curled into a smug grin against your skin, and you could feel him smirk before he pulled back slightly. "So bossy," he murmured, but he didnât hesitate. His hands went straight to your jeans, tugging them down with quick, rough movements, the denim catching awkwardly on your thighs before he yanked them free.
With your jeans finally gone, he spread your legs wide, his eyes dark and hungry as they trailed over you. His hands gripped your thighs, positioning you exactly how he wanted before slipping his fingers right back under the waistband of your panties, but this time, there was no hesitation.
He slid one finger through your slick folds, groaning low when he felt how wet you were for him. "God, you're soaked," he breathed, almost like he was in disbelief. His thumb found your clit, rubbing slow circles that had your hips bucking against his hand, desperate for more.
You couldnât help the whimper that escaped your lips. "Just... please, Jihoonâmore."
He slid a finger inside you, the sensation making you gasp, your legs instinctively spreading wider for him. You wanted more of him, needed it, and when he curled his finger just rightânot even forcing it, he felt the spongy spot, you couldnât stop the moan that tore from your throat.
"Like that?" he whispered, voice hoarse as he added another finger, filling you up and making your whole body arch into him. His other hand gripped your thigh, holding you steady as he worked his fingers inside you, each thrust deeper, more insistent.
"Fuck, yes," you gasped, barely able to form words as he sped up, his thumb still rubbing circles over your clit, making you see fireballs with closed eyes. "Just... just like that."
His hand moved faster, fingers curling and stroking deep inside you, the wet sounds of your arousal filling the quiet room. Your hips bucked against him, chasing the sensation, wanting him to take you higher, needing him to push you over the edge.
He leaned in, lips brushing your ear, his breath hot as he whispered, "I could do this all night... but I think you want me to make you come, donât you?"
You whimpered. "Please, Jihoon," you breathed, voice shaky. "I need it."
His fingers quickened their pace, thrusting deep, hitting that spot over and over until your whole body trembled. He could feel how close you were, could see it in the way your thighs quivered, the way your breath came in short, desperate gasps.
"Cum for me," he murmured, thumb pressing harder against your clit, feeling the nerve throb as his fingers worked inside you. "Cum all over my fingers."
You rest your elbow on the counter, arching your back in a way that makes the slick sound between your thighs almost obscene. Itâs impossible to ignore. You know exactly how wet you are, and palm, right there pressing down the mound of your pussyâgod, you can feel it, burning hot. Your breath hitches, and you throw a hazy glance in his direction, catching his smirk, that cocky look on his face. His lip is trapped between his teeth, eyes dark and full of heat, and thatâs all it takes before you come apart.
Your orgasm hits hard, ripping through you. Eyes squeezing shut, your body tenses, thighs trembling as your hips jerk involuntarily against his hand. You hear him coaxing you through it, his voice a low murmur, his fingers keeping steady pressure, coaxing every last wave of pleasure out of you.
âThere you go⊠good fuckin' girl. Just like that, keep cominâ for me⊠shit, so fuckinâ good,â he mutters, fingers slowing just enough to keep you riding the high.
Your chest heaves, your breaths coming in short, ragged bursts as you slowly open your eyes again. Heâs staring at youâtaking in every inch of you. The smirk on his face hasn't faltered, only deepened. Thereâs something dangerous about the way he looks at you, like he's already planning his next move.
âYou think you can turn around for me?â he asks.
You shake your head, still catching your breath, but a wicked grin spreads on your lips. âNah. Iâll fall to my knees and suck you off instead.â Your voice is steady despite the way your legs still tremble. His eyes widen just for a second before he sharpens a breath, a harsh inhale that lets you know youâve hit the right nerve.
You donât give him time to respond before youâre on your knees, fingers already undoing his belt, pulling his jeans down just enough to free him. You look up through your lashes, watching his jaw tighten as his cock springs free, already hard and leaking at the tip. His breathingâs heavy, uneven.
You run your tongue along his length slowly, collecting the sticky precum, teasing the underside before wrapping your lips around the head. He moans immediately, one hand gripping the edge of the counter so tight his knuckles turn white.
âFuck,â he hisses through his teeth, hips jerking forward as your lips slide further down his cock. The sound he makes is a whiny moan, almost of frustration as you take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks. You can feel the pulse of him on your tongue, the way his body reacts to every little move you make.
He grips your hair, tugging gently as you bob your head, setting a slow rhythm that has him panting. His hips start to move, barely restrained, thrusting shallowly into your mouth. âGoddamn⊠nghâfuck! From hittinâ me with a mop to this?â His voice cracks on a laugh, but itâs breathless, shaky. âDidnât think youâd⊠suck me off like thisâŠâ
You pull back just enough to swirl your tongue around the head, lips slick, before looking up at him, smirking. âBetter than the mop, right?â
His laugh turns into a groan, the sound vibrating through his chest as you take him deep again. âFuck yeah⊠way better than the fuckin' mop.â Heâs losing his composure now, hips moving a little more desperately, the hand in your hair tightening, guiding you as you work him harder, faster.
His moans grow louder, less restrained, and you can feel the tension building in his body, the way his muscles tighten as he gets closer. You hollow your cheeks one last time, sucking him in deeper, tongue working every inch of him until you hear him curse under his breath, his head falling back as his body shudders.
âShitââ His moan is drawn out, almost too much for him to handle, as he loses himself in your mouth, his hips bucking forward uncontrollably. You keep going, pushing him right to the edge, savoring every last sound he makes until he finally pulls you off, breathless and wrecked.
âFuck... youâre gonna kill me with that pretty mouth,â he pants, grinning down at you, still catching his breath.Â
You pull back for a second, lips slick with spit, catching your breath before you go back in, this time with a wicked grin. His cock twitches in your hand as you stroke him slowly, teasing, just enough to keep him on the edge.
âSoâŠâ you start, voice low, looking up at him with a dangerous gleam in your eyes. âHow are you gonna fuck me, huh? Gonna be good to me, orâŠâ You drag your tongue along the underside of his shaft, making him gasp before taking him back into your mouth, sucking harder, wanting to hear him stutter. â⊠or you gonna fuck me like you mean it?â
His breath hitches, and he swears under his breath. âIâfuck, Iââ His hips jerking toward your mouth, but heâs not quite there. The pressure is building, you can feel it, the way his muscles tense, the way his grip in your hair tightens.
But before you can push him too far, he suddenly pulls you off with a gasp, his cock red and leaking at the tip, his body shaking from the almost-orgasm. âStop, stop, fuckââ
You raise an eyebrow, lips swollen as you sit back on your heels, panting, teasing. âCouldâve just let me finish you off,â you murmur, licking your lips slowly as you watch him struggle to catch his breath.
He grins, though his expression is tight, like heâs holding onto control by a thread. âNot gonna let you win that easy,â he mutters. He helps you up, hands firm but delicate as he lifts you to your feet. Your knees wobble a little from the discomfort of kneeling on the hard wooden floor, and he notices, his thumb brushing gently across the soft skin.
âThey hurt?â he asks, glancing down at your knees, frowning just a little.
You shake your head, smirking. âIâll live. But you owe me a good fuck for that.â
âDonât worry. Iâm gonna make it up to you.â
You let him guide you back against the counter, his hands already sliding down to the waistband of your panties, hooking his fingers into the fabric and pulling them down tossing it on the floor. He pauses just for a second, eyes flicking between your bare pussy and your face, his breathing heavy.
He leans in close, lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, âGonna make you scream.â
You shiver, feeling his cock press against your thigh as his hands move to grip your waist. His fingers are rough, impatient. You can barely think straight when he turns you around, pushing your chest flat against the cold countertop. The contrast of the cool surface and his hot skin makes your breath hitch, your body already aching for him.
He groans softly, positioning himself at your entrance, teasing you with the tip of his cock, rubbing it along your slick folds as you grind back against him, impatient.
âFuckâplease, justââ You barely get the words out before he thrusts into you, filling you up completely in one swift movement. The stretch is intense, but itâs exactly what you needed, the delicious burn making you gasp as your fingers dig into the counter.
He groans, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he pulls back and thrusts again, setting a relentless pace. âThat good enough for you, hm?â
You can barely answer, the only sounds leaving your lips are desperate moans as he fucks into you, hard and fast, just like he promised. âF-fuck, Jihoon⊠yesâjust like that.â
He leans down, his chest pressing against your back as his lips brush your ear. âYou feel so fuckinâ good⊠so tight, fuck.âÂ
Your body trembles under his, the pleasure building so quickly that you can barely keep up. "Jihoonâ" His name leaves your lips in a broken moan as you start to lose control.
Your breath is ragged, chest heaving as you lick your fingers, letting them trail down your slick body. The moment your fingers find your clit, Jihoon freezes. His cock still buried deep inside you, but itâs like he's hypnotized by the way you touch yourself. You know heâs watching, eyes dark with hunger as you start to circle your clit, finding that perfect rhythm that makes your legs weak. Thereâs something so intoxicating about him just watching you, letting you take control of your own pleasure while he stays inside, keeping you full.
"Fuck, thatâs hot," he mutters, his voice husky and rough as he leans over you, his lips grazing your ear. "You look so fucking good like this."
You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, his words fueling the fire burning low in your belly. Your mind flashes back to everything between you two, from the first time he tagged your bakery walls, scowling like you were the enemy, graffiti cans in his bag, the way he barely looked at you when he spoke.Â
Now look at him, look at youâsweat-slicked bodies moving together, his fingers pulling your hair. The teasing exchanges that turned into thisâtangled limbs in the very place you swore you'd kill him if he ever touched. Now, all you can think about is how good he feels inside you, how much you crave more.
His hips start to move again, slow, smooth rolls that make your whole body tingle, but he keeps his hands steady on your hips, letting you keep that perfect rhythm on your clit. The sound of your wet fingers moving in time with his thrusts fills the room, and itâs obscene, but fuck, itâs so good.
âWhat do you want me to do?â he murmurs against your ear, his voice vibrating through you, sending shivers down your spine.
God. Hot. So fucking hot.
You could ask for anything. Him fucking you against every surface in the bakery, bending you over the counter, the tables, hell, maybe even hanging from the goddamn chandelier if it were possible. But right now, with the way his cock fills you and your fingers work your clit, you only want one thing.
âPull my hair.â
His hand slides up your back, fingers tangling in your hair, and he gives it a firm tug. The sharp pleasure shoots you, and your body arches against him, hips pressing back to meet his next thrust. The way body rollsl, smooth, matches the pace youâve set with your fingers. Itâs perfect, itâs so fucking good.
His hips snap against you harder now, and you can feel his restraint slipping. Heâs getting close, the way his moans get rougher, the way heâs tugging your hair a little more desperately. You know heâs just as on edge as you are.
âJihoonâŠâ
He moans sly. He knows exactly what he's doing to you.
You hum, breathless. Something so ridiculous comes to mind, and you canât believe youâre going to say it, but fuck it.Â
âCan you⊠paint me?â Youâre not sure where the words come from, but once theyâre out, you canât help but smirk.
He hesitates for a second, his hips stuttering before he recovers. âWhat?â
You bite your lip, half-laughing through your moans. âYou heard me. Paint me. Grafitti me. Whatever. Do it.â
Heâs still chuckling, his chest pressed against your back as he slows down, but you can feel the horniness in the way his cock twitches inside you. He is very into it. âYouâre fucking crazy, you know that?â
You laugh, but itâs breathless. âYouâve been tagging my bakery for weeks. Might as well make it official.â
He groans, biting his lip as he slides out of you for a moment, leaving you feeling suddenly empty, needy. You turn your head, watching as he reaches for one of the paint cans you knocked over earlier, shaking it a few times. The sound of the metal ball rattling inside echoes through the small space, making your heart race faster.
âYou sure about this?â he asks, but thereâs a grin on his face, his cock still hard and wet, glistening in the dim light.
You arch your back, pushing your ass out toward him, wiggling a little for good measure. âYou scared?â
He shakes his head, biting down on his lower lip. âNot even a little.â
Then, with one hand steady on your lower back, he leans in, the cold metal of the spray can grazing your skin. You hear the hiss of the paint as he presses down on the nozzle, feeling the cold spray hit your skin. Itâs not the same as the heat between your legs, but it sends a thrill through your body nonetheless.
âHold still,â he mutters, focused, but you can hear the grin in his voice. Heâs enjoying thisâmaybe a little too much.
You laugh, a shaky sound as the paint settles on your skin, the smell of it filling the room. âWhat are you even writing?â
âYouâll see,â he says, voice teasing. The spray continues, and then, after a moment, he steps back. âThere. Perfect.â
When heâs done, he pulls you back onto his cock all in once, making you gasp as the pleasure returns full force. âRed suits you,â he says, his voice whiny. You can feel his eyes on you, taking in the sight of you painted, fucked, completely his in this moment.
You look over your shoulder at him, breathless. âWhat did you write?â
He smirks, thrusting hard enough to make you cry out. âMy name,â he says simply. âRight across your ass.â
The sound that leaves your throat is half-laugh, half-moan. âCocky bastard,â you mutter, but you canât deny how fucking hot it is, the thought of his name on you, like a claim.
He watches the paint dry quickly, the faint sheen of it on your skin as you move against him. The thought of cleaning it off flickers in his mind, but fuck, the idea of you walking around with his name stamped across your ass, hidden inside your jeans as you go about your dayâa part of him wants it permanent, a tattoo maybe, to mark you in a way no one else could see but him. His. Completely.
His hand slides up your body, fingers sneaking under your shirt and bra until theyâre squeezing your tit, pinching your nipple hard enough to make you yelp and splatter your hand onto the counter for balance. Your legs are shaking as his thrusts get rougher, messier, the slick sound of him filling you echoing in the quiet bakery.
You moan out his name, âJihoonieâŠâ and he fucking loses it. Every time you call him that, it gets to him. The way you say it, needy and teasing, like it was meant to wreck him.
He grunts in response, pulling your hair again to tilt your head back against his chest. Your eyes roll, pleasure coursing through you like fire, and your pussy clenches tight around his cock, sucking him in deeper.
You try to hold yourself up, but your legs are jelly, barely able to stand. âIâm gonna⊠fuck, Jihoon,â you gasp, your body trembling. Youâre on the edge, the pleasure coiling tight in your belly, ready to snap at any second.
He pulls you back harder, his chest flush against your back, his mouth right at your ear as he growls, âCum for me, baby. Fuckinâ do it. I wanna feel you.â
His words, the rough sound of his voice, the way heâs completely owning youâit pushes you over the edge. You shatter around him, your body convulsing as your orgasm slams into you. Your pussy clenches tight, milking his cock, and you scream his name, your voice echoing through the empty bakery.
He groans deep in his chest, thrusting through your orgasm, chasing his own orgasm. The way you squeeze him, the way you moan and tremble in his arms, itâs too much. He pulls out at the last second, just barely, his hand jerking his cock as he cums, thick ropes spilling onto your ass, painting over his name in red.
Youâre a mess, both of youâpaint, cum, sweat sticking to your skinâbut you canât bring yourself to care.
His hand slides gently down your back, soothing the tremors that still ripple through your body. âFuck,â he mutters, voice still shaky. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your neck, completely different from how rough he was just moments ago.
You breathe out a laugh, still catching your breath. âThink weâre gonna need more than a mop to clean this up.â
Jihoon chuckles, pulling back slightly to admire the mess he made. âYeah,â he says, âBut I gotta say⊠seeing you with my name on your ass? Kinda want it permanent.â
You tilt your head back to look at him, a lazy smirk on your lips. âYouâd like that, wouldnât you?â
His smirk matches yours as he tugs you closer, his hands still resting on your hips. âMaybe,â he murmurs, brushing his lips against yours. âMaybe more than I should.â
Jihoon sulks, his face twisted in irritation as he presses the paper towel against your ass, muttering under his breath about how he ruined it. You can hear him grumbling, the cum smudging the once-clear letters of his graffiti like some kind of art project gone wrong. Heâs so focused on trying to clean it up, but all heâs doing is making a bigger mess, the red paint mixing with the white streaks, swirling into a chaotic, almost laughable design.
You, on the other hand, canât stop the grin that spreads across your face. The whole situation is just too ridiculousâthe great Woozi, all serious and brooding, now pouting like a kid who messed up his school project. You rest your arms on the counter, the cool surface grounding you after everything, and glance over your shoulder, still half-naked from the waist down, shaking your head.
âHey,â you snicker, pushing up onto the counter, bare skin still tingling from what just went down, âcome on, take a picture for me.â
He glances up, narrowing his eyes in that grumpy way of his, but heâs not about to argue. With a sigh, he reaches out to take your phone, swiping it from your hand like it was a burden. He shakes his head, but there's the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
You prop yourself up on your elbows, waiting as he squats a little to get the right angle. His breath is still slightly ragged, cheeks flushed pink, but heâs focused now, swiping a thumb across the screen before lifting the phone to snap a pic. You hear the click, followed by his low mutter. âFuckinâ smudged.â
âLet me see,â you laugh, reaching out for the phone. He hands it over with a huff, standing there, arms crossed, while you inspect the damage.
There it is. Bold, bright red, smeared all over your ass. âWoozi,â right there in the middle, smudged but still totally readable. The first âWâ is clear, but by the time you get to the âzi,â itâs a messy blur of paint and cum, like he tried to rush through it at the end. You burst out laughing, the sound bouncing off the walls of the empty bakery.
âWoozi?â you choke out between laughs, glancing up at him. âYou really went with that?â
Jihoon rolls his eyes, cheeks burning a bit now. âWhat? Itâs better than my actual name, isnât it?â
You squint at the screen again, biting your lip to stop the next wave of laughter from spilling out. The smudge really does make it funnier. It's like his little alter ego tried to make a grand appearance but ended up getting dragged through a mess of his own creation.
âWoozi,â you repeat, grinning as you shake your head. âSo now Iâm walking around with your vandal name on my ass?â
He shrugs, still pretending to sulk, though you can see heâs fighting back a smile too. âThought itâd be⊠symbolic or something. Besides, no oneâs gonna know what it says. Itâs all smudged now.â
âOh, theyâll know,â you tease, lifting the phone to show him the picture again. âItâs clear enough, trust me. Wooziâs gonna be famous for something else entirely after this.â
He lets out a breathy chuckle, scratching the back of his head. âYeah, great. Exactly what I need. My name on your ass, and you showing it off to the world.â
âNot showing it off to the world,â you smirk, leaning back on the counter. âJust, you know, keeping it for personal reasons.â You give him a cheeky look, watching as his eyebrows raise in mild curiosity.
Jihoon moves closer, sliding his hands over your hips again, thumbs brushing the sides of your thighs. âPersonal reasons, hm?âÂ
âYup,â you say, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from grinning too wide. âMight just stare at it whenever I need a good laugh. Or maybe when I need to remember how well you⊠fuck.â
He scoffs, rolling his eyes again, but thereâs a smirk pulling at his lips now. âYouâre real funny, you know that?â
You nod, still grinning like an idiot. âYeah, but you love it.â
âMm,â he hums, stepping even closer, so close that your legs naturally part to let him stand between them. âLove it, huh?â
You raise a brow, tilting your head. âYeah, love it. You, though?â You press your palms to his chest, fingers curling into his shirt just a bit. âYouâre sulking because you didnât get the masterpiece you wanted.â
His hands grip your waist, and he leans down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. âIâm not sulking,â he whispers, voice dripping with faux irritation. âI just didnât expect my art to get ruined byâŠâ He pauses, pulling back slightly to give you a teasing look. ââŠcircumstances.â
You snort. âCircumstances? Jihoon, you came on it.â
He tries to hold back a laugh, but it slips out anyway, his chest vibrating against your hands. âYeah, well, you didnât exactly help the situation. Youâre the one whoââ He cuts himself off, shaking his head as if heâs trying to erase the memory of what just happened.
You grin, tugging him even closer by his shirt. âSay it. Iâm the one who what?â
He chuckles. âYouâre the one who kept calling me âJihoonieâ like you were trying to kill me.â
âOh, thatâs on me?â you laugh, giving him a playful shove. âYou loved it, donât even lie.â
âI did baby girl, I did.â
You hold on to him, tired from working the whole day and from⊠fucking in the workplace too.
âBut donât think this makes us even. You still hit me with that damn mop.â
The next few days were nothing short of chaosâan exhilarating rush of sweet and savory tarts flying off the shelves, and new recipes you and Mrs. Lee concocted together, bringing fresh buzz to the bakery. The scent of freshly baked goods filled the air every morning, pulling in crowds, while the constant hum of the oven working overtime had become your new normal.
One morning, Jihoon arrives early, the sun barely peeking over the rooftops, casting a soft golden hue over the quiet streets. He strolls in, wiping the sleep from his eyes, hair a little mussed but looking determined to work.
As soon as he steps inside, he spots you standing near the counter with Mingyu. You're talking animatedly, your hands gesturing as Mingyu grins at something you said. His big frame blocks most of your view, so Jihoon immediately veers toward the vitrines to see how the tarts are doing. He doesnât want to interrupt whatever youâre saying to Mingyu, but he's definitely curious.
He gets to the counter and freezes. The vitrines⊠theyâre empty. Not a single tart left. Not even the little label card for the savory tarts, the one that proudly displayed the flavors heâd worked so hard to perfect.
His brows furrow, and he turns to you, half in disbelief. âHey, whereâs all the savory tarts?â he asks, trying not to sound like heâs panicking a little.
You and Mingyu exchange a quick glance before you turn to Jihoon, biting back a smirk. âOh, yeah... about that,â you say, crossing your arms and leaning against the counter. âWe had to stop selling them here.â
Jihoon blinks, caught off guard. âWhat?â He steps closer, eyebrows knitting together. âStop selling them? What are you talking about?â
You sigh dramatically, playing it up. âThey were just taking up too much space, you know? Not enough room for the sweets and everything else. Figured weâd move on to other things.â
Jihoon stares at you, his eyes flicking between your face and the empty case. You can see the gears turning in his head, confusion, then frustration. âBut⊠they were selling well. Why would youâ?â
Mingyu pipes up, poorly holding back a laugh. âYeah, dude, it was wild. People just stopped caring about them, I guess.â
Jihoonâs eyes widen. âNo way. They were doing so well just yesterdayââ He stops, eyes narrowing at Mingyu's grin. Then he looks back at you, finally sensing somethingâs up. âWait⊠whatâs going on?â
You canât help it. The corners of your lips twitch, and then you crack, bursting into laughter. âCome on, Jihoon. Just follow me.â
He follows you, still a little skeptical, his pace hurried as he tries to keep up with your sudden excitement. When you lead him out of the main bakery, his confusion only grows. You guide him around the corner to a neighboring shop space youâd kept quiet about.
Jihoon stops dead in his tracks the moment he sees the sign hanging above the door: Leeâs Tarts. His eyes go wide, scanning the large windows where people are already lined up outside, some chatting excitedly while others peek through the glass to get a look at the new place. And right inside, behind the counter, Mrs. Lee is standing tall, her hands expertly working as she serves up savory tarts to eager customers. The place is buzzing, the line practically spilling out onto the street.
âWhat the hell...â Jihoon mutters, blinking in disbelief.
You nudge his arm playfully. âSurprise.â
He turns to look at you, his expression still caught in shock. âYou opened a shop?â
âWell, technically, Mrs. Lee opened the shop,â you grin. âI just helped.â
Jihoon shakes his head, still processing. âThis⊠this is for her?â
âYeah, for both of you,â you say, folding your arms, satisfied with the look on his face. âYour tarts were way too good to just stay in one little display case. Now theyâve got their own home.â
Then, without warning, he turns to you, arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you into a tight hug.
âHoly shit,â he mutters into your hair, squeezing you so hard it almost knocks the wind out of you. âI canât believe you did this.â
He pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes sparkling warmly, something that you rarely see from him.Â
âYou deserve it, Jihoon. It was all you.â
His lips curl into that soft, genuine smile thatâs rare but so worth it when you see it. âGuess weâre gonna be pretty busy, huh?â
âGuess so,â you say, leaning your head on his shoulder. âBetter get used to it, Woozi.â
You and Mingyu handle the morning crowd in your bakery, but every now and then, you steal glances through the window at the new Leeâs Savory Tart shop next door. The line of people doesnât seem to stop; every time you look, itâs like there are more. Jihoonâs name is already making waves, and itâs only been a few hours since the doors opened.
Someone at the counter clears their throat, and you turn back, wiping your hands on your apron. A woman leans over the display case, eyes scanning the rows of sweets. âHey, donât you have those savory tarts? The ones with the spinach and cheese?â
You nod, smiling. âNot here anymore, actually. Weâve got something even better now.â You motion with your thumb toward the window. âJust next door. The savory tarts have their own shop now, Leeâs Tarts. Youâll find all the flavors thereâprobably even a few new ones.â
The womanâs eyes widen, eyebrows shooting up. âOh! I didnât know they moved! I was looking forward to trying them again.â
Mingyu, wiping down the counter behind you, pipes in with a grin, âYeah, youâre gonna want to head over there before the line gets longer. Trust me, itâs worth it.â
The woman glances outside, spots the line, and her face shifts to one of mild panic. âOh god, itâs already long.â
You chuckle. âBetter get in there while you can. Theyâre selling out fast.â
She nods quickly, a little flustered, and rushes out the door, making a beeline for the shop next door. As the door closes behind her, you share a look with Mingyu. Heâs smirking, arms crossed, leaning casually against the counter like he owns the place.
âYouâre really sending our customers away like that, huh?â he teases, shaking his head. âWhat are we gonna do when everyoneâs over there?â
You roll your eyes, nudging him with your elbow. âOh please, you know people will still come for the sweets. Besides, Jihoonâs shop is practically ours. Same team, right?â
Mingyu grins wider. âYeah, I guess. But damn, the guyâs getting popular fast. Never thought I'd see the day where Jihoon had groupies for tarts.â
You laugh, glancing out the window again, and sure enough, more people are queuing up outside the Leeâs Tarts storefront. âI know, right? Itâs kinda surreal.â
Another customer steps up to the counter, a man in a suit, adjusting his tie as he peers at the empty spot where the savory tarts used to sit. âExcuse me, do you still have those mushroom and leek tarts?â
You shake your head, smiling.Â
[...]
You lean against the counter, crossing your arms and watching through the glass again. Thereâs something deeply satisfying about seeing people excited for Jihoonâs tartsâalmost like watching a small victory unfold before your eyes. Itâs hard not to feel proud.
Mingyu glances at you, brow quirked. âYou think he knows how big this is yet?â
You shrug, still watching the customers flow in and out of the shop next door. âMaybe. Heâs probably too busy to even think about it right now.â
Mingyu snorts, pushing off the counter. âYeah, well, letâs just hope he doesnât get all cocky now that heâs got his own place.â
You smile softly, shaking your head. âNah. Thatâs not him. If anything, heâs probably stressing about making sure everythingâs perfect.â
As if on cue, the door to the bakery next door opens, and Jihoon steps out for a quick breath of air. Heâs in his apron, hair falling into his eyes, looking a little sweaty but in control.Â
He glances over to your shop and catches your eye through the window. For a second, his expression softens, and he gives you a small, appreciative nod.
You wave back, a knowing smile tugging at your lips. Then, before he can get too sentimental, heâs back inside, ready to tackle the next wave of customers.
As the day wears on, the steady flow of customers in both shops never really stops. You keep handling the orders, but every once in a while, someone comes in asking for the savory tarts, and you point them next door, grinning every time at how fast Jihoonâs new shop is becoming the talk of the town.
By the end of the day, when the last customer has left and the door finally swings closed, you take a deep breath, leaning against the counter, watching the lights flicker off in Leeâs Tarts through the window. Jihoon steps out again, this time wiping his hands on his apron as he locks up for the night.
He crosses the sidewalk and steps into your bakery, looking utterly exhausted but somehow content. âBusy day?â
You smile. âYou could say that. You?â
Jihoon lets out a low laugh, shaking his head. âNever thought tarts could be this stressful.â
You step forward, wrapping your arms around his waist in a brief hug. âWell, looks like youâre stuck with it now.â
He smiles down at you, that soft look back in his eyes as he pulls you in for a kissâquick and sweet this time, just a little stolen moment before the work starts all over again tomorrow.
From behind the counter, Mingyu makes a gagging sound, dramatically covering his eyes. âGod, you two are disgusting.â
As you roll your eyes, Jihoon leans in close, his lips brushing your ear with a low murmur. âMaybe we should celebrate... you know, properly. You, me, that freaky side you try to keep in checkâletâs see if I survive tonight.â
Your eyes flick up to meet his, a smirk pulling at the corner of your lips. âIs that a challenge, Jihoon?â
He chuckles, breath hot against your skin, his hand squeezing your hip suggestively. âOnly if youâre up for it. I might not walk straight after, but Iâm willing to take that risk.â
[...]
The next thing you know, you're in a motel room, Jihoon having insisted that the best way to celebrate was somewhere far away from work, where neither of you had to think about baking for once.
Youâre on top of him, straddling his hips, thighs caging him, riding him so hard itâs like youâve forgotten how to go slow. The bed creaks beneath you, the headboard knocking softly against the wall with every thrust, but all you can hear is Jihoonâs moansâloud and desperate.Â
His pale skin is already flushed pink, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
"Fuck... you're gonna break me," he gasps out, voice strained, eyes half-lidded and desperate. His head falls back against the pillow as you ride him harder, his lips parted in a silent moan. "I can't... shit, you're too good."
You lean down, your hair falling around your faces, your lips brushing his ear as you tease, âYouâre not tapping out already, are you?â
His chest heaves with each ragged breath, his hands slipping down to grip your ass, trying to hold you still for a moment, but you donât let him. You push back against him, harder, faster, and his groan rips through the small motel room. âFuck, Iâm serious... gonna fucking break...â
âYouâre the one who wanted to celebrate, remember?â You dig your nails into his shoulders, moving with an intentional grinding roll of your hips, making you two shiver at the same time. "Now take it."
He almost sobs at that, his hands tightening on your waist, his head falling back as his hips buck up into you. The noises spilling from himâthose choked-off moans and heavy breathsâmade your lower belly boil, making you even bolder. You grind down, angling just right, and Jihoon lets out a sound that's more a whimper than anything.
You bite your lip, holding back a laugh as you grind down harder, feeling his cock twitch inside you. âLook at you. Jihoonie, you're so fucked out. What was that about me breaking you?â
He groans loudly, squeezing his eyes shut as his hands grip your thighs tighter, knuckles white from the pressure. âShitââ
You lean down, your mouth brushing against his ear, your voice a sultry whisper. âMaybe youâll survive if youâre lucky.â
Thatâs all it takes for Jihoon to melt completely. His hands slide down your body, clenching desperately as his entire body tenses beneath you. His hips stutter, a long, ragged moan tearing from his throat as he finally cums, body trembling as he cums hard, buried deep inside you.
For a moment, you just let him ride it out, watching the way his chest heaves, eyes fluttering shut in pure bliss, his body still twitching from the orgasm. You slow your movements, giving him time to catch his breath.
When he finally opens his eyes again, theyâre hazy, half-lidded with exhaustion. He looks up at you like youâve completely destroyed him, which, to be fair, you kind of have.
âFuck,â he breathes out. âYou really are going to break me.â
You smile, leaning down to kiss him softly on the lips, your hips still gently rocking against his. âCanât break my Jihoonie.â
He covers his face, whimpering, cheeks flushing up as if they couldnt get more red.Â
âIf you call me that again, I'll paint your face.â
âAt least it's not my bakery.â
[...]
You leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching through the window as Jihoon crouched outside, focused, the spray can in his hand hissing with each stroke of paint. The tart he was working on looked almost surrealâlike it could pop right out of the wall, the pastry perfectly golden, the filling a burst of deep reds and oranges, with olives vibrantly on top. It was almost too pretty for a bakery wall, but it was Jihoon, and somehow, it worked.
"You're staring again," Mingyu's voice broke through your thoughts, and you barely turned your head as he leaned against the counter beside you, his stupid teasing grin stretching across his face.
âShut up, i'm not,â you muttered, but even you could hear the weakness in your voice. Your eyes stayed glued to Jihoon, his hands moving quickly, confidently, as he added more details to the tart. a few people stopped to admire it, heads turning as they passed by, and you could see them whispering to each other, clearly impressed. he really was talented.
âUh-huh," Mingyuâs voice showing that he was doubting everything you say, âYou know, if youâre gonna stand there drooling, you might as well just go out there and sit on his lap while he paints.â
You shot him a glare, cheeks heating up. âMingyu, fuck off.â
He laughed, shaking his head. âOh come on, just admit it. Youâve been staring at him all week. Itâs obvious. The way you look at him? Please.â
You bit your lip, eyes sliding back to Jihoon outside. He had stood up now, switching cans, his fingers stained with vibrant shades of pink and yellow. There was something about watching him work, about how focused he gotâHis brows furrowed, bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he leaned in close to get the details just right.
And, god, after yesterday when he finished the cake on the front of your shop⊠you were pretty much done for. You hadnât even realized how long you'd been staring until he'd caught your eye, giving you that little smirk that made your stomach flip. And yeah, the way he insisted on going around the whole damn city to find the perfect pastel colors to match your aesthetic? It was sweet. Way sweeter than you wanted to admit.
Mingyu raised an eyebrow, waiting, and you let out a long, frustrated sigh, finally caving. âFine. okay, Yes. I fucking like him. Happy now?â
His eyes widened in mock surprise, but he was clearly pleased with himself. âOh my god, really? Who wouldâve guessed?â
âOh, shut up,â you sulked, crossing your arms tighter across your chest and turning your gaze back to Jihoon, who was now adding some final touches to the tart's crust. The sunlight hit him just right, highlighting the sharp angle of his jaw, the veins in his forearms as he shook the can. âI donât even know how it happened. One second I was annoyed as hell with him, and then⊠Yeah. Here we are.â
Mingyu chuckled, clearly enjoying every second of this. âI think it was when he convinced you to let him spray that cake on your wall. You looked like you were about to strangle him, but then you didnât. You just stared at him like heâd hung the moon or some shit.â
You rolled your eyes but couldnât deny it. âYeah, well⊠I guess it was kinda cute. He really went all out with that cake. You know he circled the whole damn city for those colors?â
âYeah, he told me,â Mingyu said, smirking. âAnd now look at you, all whipped for him.â
You groaned, running a hand through your hair, trying to push down the feelings that were bubbling up again. âGod, why am I even telling you this? I donât need you making it worse.â
ou sighed, glancing out the window one more time, watching Jihoon wipe his hands on his jeans, the drawing complete. He took a step back, admiring his work, and for a second, he glanced your way, catching your eye. He raised his hand in a casual wave, a soft smile playing on his lips. Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly turned away, feeling like youâd been caught.
Mingyu raised an eyebrow at you. âYouâre blushing.â
âI am not.â You groaned, pushing past Mingyu to head back behind the counter. âWhatever. Youâre just jealous he didnât paint something for your store.â
Mingyuâs laughter followed you as you walked away, but as you leaned against the counter, arms still crossed, you found yourself glancing back out the window, one last time. There was no denying it anymore. You were definitely into himâhis art, his focus, the way he just fit into your world without even trying.
You let out a small sigh, content, but your peaceful moment was interrupted when the door swung open hard enough to make the bell jingle a little too loudly. A group of boys walked in, street-worn and loud, carrying backpacks that were half-open, revealing cans of spray paint inside. A couple of them had skates hanging off their shoulders, and their clothes were loose, baggy, clearly not from around hereâor at least, not part of the usual clientele.
You blinked, taking in the sight of them as they strolled in like they owned the place, heads bobbing to whatever beat they had going in their heads. One of them, tall with a beanie pulled low over his eyes, spotted you behind the counter and immediately grinned. âYo, is this the spot where Jihoonâs lil' girlfriend works?â
You froze, mid-wipe, blinking silently at the question. Girlfriend? Lilâ girlfriend? Your face flushed, and you could feel the heat crawling up your neck. You quickly tried to play it cool, clearing your throat. âUh... I donâtâwhat?â
The guy chuckled, his crew falling in behind him, all of them eyeing the bakery like it was some kind of alien planet. âNah, nah, donât play like that. We know. Jihoon said his girl runs this bakery. This is it, right?â
One of the other boys, wearing a hoodie that was about three sizes too big, pointed to the display case, leaning over the counter a bit. âDamn, yâall got those fancy-ass tarts here. Hey, you think we could get a discount? You know, 'cause we know your man and all.â
You blinked again, gulping, still processing the whole âgirlfriendâ thing. Flour clung to your apron and dusted your arms, and you suddenly felt a little out of place, standing there dirty from baking while these guysâwho clearly rolled with Jihoonâlooked way too comfortable.
âYou, uh, want some tarts?â you asked, trying to change the subject, wiping your hands on your apron.
The beanie guy grinned again, leaning an elbow on the counter. âYeah, yeah, weâll take some. Heard you got some sweet shit in here. Hook us up, Jihoonâs girl.â
You cringed at the nickname but forced a smile, grabbing a few plates and serving up some of the sweet tarts you had left. They all watched you work, curiosity in their eyes, and you couldnât shake the feeling of being watched watched.
As you handed them their plates, another one of the boys spoke up. âDamn, I thought bakers were like... supposed to be all old and shit. Youâre cute, though.â
You almost dropped the plate. âThanks,â you muttered, cheeks turning pink as you slid the tart towards them. âEnjoy.â
âYo, speak of the devil,â one of them interrupted, nodding toward the door as it swung open. You turned around, relieved, and there was Jihoonâsweaty, paint splattered across his arms and hands, still holding a spray can. He froze for a second, taking in the scene, his eyes narrowing at the sight of his crew huddled around the counter.
âThe fuck you guys doinâ here?â Jihoon grumbled, walking in with that same grumpy look he always wore when he was caught off guard.
You could see Jihoonâs jaw clench as he approached the counter, shaking his head. âSheâs notâwhy the fuck are you even here?â
Another one chimed in, chuckling. âWe just wanted to see the spot, man! Heard it was dope.â
Jihoon stepped up next to you, placing a hand on your lower back in a subtle, protective gesture. âGet outta here, you dumbasses. This isnât a playground.â
 âBro, why didnât you tell us she makes shit this good?â
Jihoon sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he walked up to the counter. âTheyâre not here to cause trouble, are they?â he asked, giving you a look that was half-apologetic, half-amused.
âTheyâre just hungry,â you said, shaking your head, trying not to laugh at how out of place they all looked in your pastel-colored bakery. âLet them eat. I think they like the tarts.â
âTheyâre pretty good, right?â you teased, handing Jihoon a tart too.
One of the guys pointed his finger between you and Jihoon, a sly grin spreading across his face. âMan, your kids are gonna be so well-fed. Tarts for breakfast, lunch, and dinner!â
Jihoon almost choked on his tart, coughing as he shot the guy a glare. âShut up,â he muttered, but there was no denying the redness creeping up his neck.
You burst out laughing, the absurdity of the situation too much to handle. âYou really bring these guys everywhere, huh?â
Jihoon shook his head, embarrassed but smiling too. âI didnât bring âem. They follow me like strays.â
One of the guys grinned, shoving another tart into his mouth. âHell yeah, we do. And we gonna keep cominâ back if these tarts are free.â
You gave Jihoon a look, shaking your head with a laugh. âLet âem eat. Theyâre harmless⊠mostly.â
âThat one,â Jihoon said, jabbing his thumb toward the high guy. âHeâs the asshole who drew the giant cock on your wall.â
Your eyes widened, immediately zeroing in on the guy who was now trying to pretend he wasnât the subject of conversation. He suddenly found the tarts very interesting, stuffing another one into his mouth to avoid your glare.
âNo way,â you deadpanned, your voice dripping with disbelief. âYou did that?â
The guy, mouth still full of tart, shrugged sheepishly. âUh, it was⊠kinda funny though, right?â
You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you leaned against the counter. âOh, hilarious,â you said, your voice thick with sarcasm. âDo you know how many old ladies came in here and gave me looks?â
He swallowed hard, looking around at his friends for backup, but they all just laughed, clearly enjoying the fact that he was getting called out. âI, uh⊠Iâll clean it up?â he offered, scratching the back of his head.
Jihoon snorted, shaking his head. âToo late for that, man. She already scrubbed it off.â
You shot Jihoon a look. âI scrubbed it off. With bleach. In the middle of a freakinâ heatwave.â
The guy looked genuinely guilty for a second, rubbing his neck awkwardly. âMy bad, yo. Didnât think itâd be that big of a dealâŠâ
Jihoon laughed under his breath, clearly amused by the whole situation. âYou owe her, dude.â
The guy shrugged again, looking at you with a half-apologetic, half-amused grin. âAight, aight. My bad, lilâ bakery girl. Iâll make it up to you.â
You rolled your eyes but couldnât help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips. âYeah, you better,â you teased.Â
âWeâre definitely talking about the âgirlfriendâ thing later.â Jihoon gave you a squeeze on your ass behind the counter, where nobody could see it.
You smirked, raising an eyebrow at him, not missing the way his eyes lingered on you just a second too long. âOh, are we?â
âYeah,â he whispered, his breath warm and teasing against your ear. âAfter I get these idiots outta here.â
#seventeen imagines#seventeen reactions#seventeen headcanons#seventeen x reader#seventeen scenarios#seventeen smut#seventeen#seventeen fluff#svt smut#svt imagines#seventeen fic#seventeen x you#seventeen x yn#seventeen x oc#seventeen x y/n#woozi smut#woozi#woozi x reader#svt woozi#seventeen woozi#woozi fluff#woozi angst#woozi imagines#woozi scenarios#woozi reactions#woozi drabbles#woozi headcanons#jihoon smut#lee jihoon#jihoon x reader
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GIANNA'S KINKTOBER '24 SEASON
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€âą ËËË Kinktober day fifteen.
Good Girl + Wearing His Clothes During Sex (2k words)
summary: The last thing you needed was your boyfriend distracting you from all the work you needed to get done, but he knew just the way to get your attention.
warnings: NSFW, +18, smut, MDNI, established relationship, oral (f receiving), praise, dom!lando, unprotected sex.
The big hotel room felt overwhelming as you sat on the desk with your laptop in front of you. This is what you had to put up with for travelling around the world to support your boyfriend. You wouldnât say it wasnât worth it, but it was the time difference that was really killing you.Â
You hoped to have enough time to enjoy Brazil and its beautiful activities, but sadly, this wasnât the case, since you now found yourself feeling stressed, with a million things to do, and wearing one of Landoâs shirts that rested just above your thigh to put up with the hot weather.
Lando was laying on the bed, staring at you as you typed away; he was growing a little desperate. You promised you would be done in time for lunch, or at least to spend some time together, but it wasnât looking like that would happen for who knows how long.
âHow is it going?â
âUh- not great,â he sighed as you said this. There were many reasons he brought you with him, and watching you work was not one of them. âIâll be over soon, I promise.â
âHow long?â
âBaby, Iâll be done in time for lunch, okay?â You said again, looking at him momentarily.
He looked at the time, assuming he wouldnât have to wait too much since it was almost lunchtime. He decided to stop bothering you and just let you do your thing, knowing that if he distracted you, youâd take longer, and he just needed you to himself as soon as possible.Â
An hour went by, and it didnât look like you would be done any time soon; he hated to admit it, but he was almost at his limit. He realised it wasnât fair to feel that way, but he honestly couldnât help it. He decided to give you 15 more minutes, mentally setting a timer to drag you away from your computer, and when the time was done, thatâs exactly what he did, or at least that was his intention.Â
âOkay, time for lunch. What do you feel like eating?â He said it in a tone that felt like he wasnât giving you an option to reject him.Â
âJust 30 more minutes, baby, I promise.â
âWhat? Thatâs what you said almost two hours ago.â
âI know, and Iâm sorry, but I just need to send this one thing and Iâm all yours.â You looked at him with a soft smile, hoping he would understand.
Instead, he grunted in annoyance. âBaby, please. Is that office falling apart without you?â
âIt is, by the looks of it.â
âCome on. Letâs have lunch and then you can come back to work. Iâm starving.â
âLando,â you stared at him more seriously now, feeling like a mother telling their kid away, going back to your laptop after a few seconds.
Were you being serious? He thought as he stood there, still looking at you and waiting for you to give him some attention. But you didnât, so he would have to come up with a better plan.Â
He stood behind the desk chair, wrapping his arms around you as he planted soft kisses on your jaw. This made you melt instantly, but that feeling quickly went away when a notification popped on your screen. With that, your attention went back to the screen.
But he wouldnât give up so easily. His mouth travelled further down, paying special attention to your neck.
âNot now, Lando. Iâm quite busy.â
He turned the chair around, so now you were facing him. âYou need to take a break, my love, you canât keep going like this.â
âIâm almost done-â
âThatâs what you have been saying, not only today but literally every day.â He was giving you his best puppy eyes, hoping that would make you break.Â
âI know⊠no, donât give me that look.â
âPlease, one hour is all Iâm asking for. Weâll order room service so we donât even have to leave the room. Is a win-win.â
He kneeled in front of you, his hands landing on your thighs as he started kissing your exposed skin. You were considering it; in one hand, stopping for an hour wouldnât hurt anybody, but then again, if you stopped, that means you would eventually have to come back and finish later.
That internal battle was soon forgotten when you felt one of his hands creeping up between your legs, quickly finding your clothed core. You let out an involuntary moan, closing your eyes as you enjoyed his touch.
âSee? You need to relax,â he whispered, his kisses becoming wetter the closer he got to the inside of your thighs. âLift your hips for me.â Lando hooked his fingers in the hem of your panties, sliding them down your body and throwing them somewhere behind him. With all the patience in the world, he used one of his fingers to play with your clit, circling it softly as he looked up at you, a smirk forming on his face when he saw how much you were enjoying it.
âWant me to keep going?â
âY-yes,â you breathed out, swallowing hard as your small hand fell on his hair.
He decided to cut out the teasing now that he could see how desperate you were getting, burying himself completely between your legs and planting a kiss directly on your clit. The moan you let out was glorious, and it only encouraged him to keep going. He then started to properly eat you out, licking and sucking just the way you liked it. He directed his tongue to your dripping hole, collecting all your arousal and then licking up your slit, bringing it to your sensitive clit.
âShit, so good,â you moaned, and you could feel him smiling at the effect he had on you.
God, his tongue was really doing wonders. Repeatedly, he was lapping at your clit and then gently sucking on it for a longer period of time, which he knew was what you enjoyed the most, teasing it with the tip of his tongue from time to time. A few minutes went by as he repeated this process, adding a finger inside you when he felt you clench around nothing.
The added pleasure made you arch your back and push his head closer to you, although that was impossible. You couldnât help it; you could feel your orgasm so close yet so far. It was probably the stress; Lando was right, you were overworking yourself day after day, and this was probably just what you needed.
Another thick finger was added as he picked up the pace, and you began to feel the familiar tightening of your orgasm approach.
âLando- fuck.â Your eyes were squeezed shut as your legs that rested on his shoulder began to shake, gasps and pants escaping your lips as you started to see stars, your orgasm hitting you shortly after.Â
You could hear him moan faintly, the vibrations prolonging your climax as your tiny clit pulsed against his tongue. Your entire body was combulsing so much that you were sure that if Lando wasnât holding you with one of his strong arms, the chair wouldnât be standing anymore.
When it became too much, you pushed his head away, breathing heavily as you came down from your high. But he was starting to get needy himself. He shifted on his feet and carried you in his arms, immediately kissing you, and you could taste yourself in his mouth.Â
He walked towards the bed and softly placed you down, stepping away for a moment to undress himself. You admired his muscles flexing as he pulled his shirt over his head, his eyes never leaving your body. His intense gaze made you feel exposed, reaching down and trying to shove the shirt over your bare bottom half while he stood over you.Â
God, he really had you in the palm of his hand, because the way he chucked had you pathetically leaking down your thighs and onto the bed.Â
âCanât get shy now, sweetheart, Iâve seen all of it,â he reminded you, making your cheeks go red as you recalled the events that took place in the chair across the room just minutes ago.Â
You timidly nodded, paying attention to how his hands moved to undo his belt and pull his pants down, along with his underwear. His smirk grew darker as you pressed your thighs together; the way he affected you never went unnoticed, and he always yearned to give you more.
Once he was finally done, he hovered over you, his lips immediately finding yours. You involuntarily moaned against him, wrapping your legs around him to bring him closer. In a swift movement, he rolled you over so you would be on top, dragging your hips lower to get you to sit on his desperate cock.Â
Your hips started slowly moving, relieving some of the neediness he was feeling; his moans joined yours, and as you got more into it, your hands reached for the hem of the shirt you were still wearing.
âNo, keep that on for me, yeah?â He stopped you, pulling it back down. You nodded and placed your hands on his chest instead, nails digging at his skin.
âMhm, need you,â you moaned, lifting your hips and guiding his cock to your entrance. That action sent a throb through his already aching abdomen, an incredibly deep moan coming from him as you sat back down.Â
âFuck, so perfect for me.â He whimpered, his hands finding your waist to guide your movements. This made his shirt roll up, uncovering your pussy and part of your tummy; he could practically see himself inside you as you bounced on his cock.
You had your lip trapped between your teeth as your hands were now placed on top of his, your eyes shut as you arched your back, allowing him to have a better view of how his huge cock disappeared inside you. He could watch you ride him forever; you were always so good for him.
âGood girl.â You let out a loud moan at his words and clenched his pulsing dick inside you, making you open your eyes and look down at him â a look somewhere between surprised and embarrassed meeting his eyes.
Lando didnât share your feelings of embarrassment at all; in fact, he was going insane at the reaction two simple words got out of you. Oh, he was going to use that to his advantage.
âLike it when I call you a good girl?â Fuck, another loud moan. âYeah, are you being a good girl for me?â
âAh, yes,â you breathed out, your pace picking up at every word he uttered.Â
âKeep going, baby, you are doing so good.â A broken moan vibrated from your chest, only making him more amused.
You did as he said, maintaining a rhythm that felt so good for both of you. However, after a few seconds, he felt like it wasn't fast enough, because the next thing you knew, he had planted his feet on the bed and thursted up into you, his grip on your waist tightening and breaking your rhythm, smirking at the broken moan you let out.Â
âI need- please,â you moaned desperately as you felt him hit your g-spot over and over again. He watched with darkened eyes as you threw your head back and screamed his name.Â
âCome on, wanna keep my cum inside your tummy?â As if he could drive you even crazier, one of his thumbs landed on your clit. His teeth flashed in a grin when you nodded, pressing harder. âCum with me, baby.â
As soon as he said those words, the coil in your stomach tightened before breaking completely, more broken moans and a few curses slipping past your lips. He cried out when his orgasm followed soon after, filling your pussy with his hot cum.Â
You fell forward onto his chest, his hands caressing your back under the sweaty shirt. âGood girl,â he muttered one more time as he pressed a sweet kiss to your head.
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