#on the bright side - I finally figured out how to make mirrors! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

satoruhour · 11 months ago

Note

Just thought of something FREAKY in class… Single father Satoru looking for a babysitter and you’re looking for a side income during semester break and the tension goes crazy!!!! “We should’t be doing this my son will wake up” I’M GONNA SCREAMMMM

BLISS, PURE BLISS

a/n: happy new year LMFAOOO. thank you for all the asks btw i promise ill answer them asap 🥹 / @shotorus @osaemu @shidouryusm @mysugu @hyomagiri ♱

wc: 6.4k

warnings: ‘onee-san’ used but more of just addressing reader as an older figure because saying babysitter is kinda weird lol (kind of like how chinese people use 姐姐 even if they are not related), fem!reader, dilf!gojo, age gap (gojo in his late 30s, reader in mid-20s), angst if u squint, bit of slow burn n tension, making out, use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, praise, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, p -> v sex, multiple rounds, consensual filming, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

“no fucking way . .” you mumble mostly to yourself, standing in front of the largest house of the gated community in roppongi, and while you knew the people here were excessively and obnoxiously rich, you’re never quite prepared until you’re getting a key card specifically mailed to your name just so you could enter.

you’re not even shameful when you take a video to send to your best friends, locking your screen almost immediately because you knew you’d never get to the job on time if you replied to them. with calculated steps, you’re walking up the house that’s designed with a modern structure, yet still retaining characteristics of a traditional japanese home. it’s less prominent at the front of the house, though.

“(y/n)-san, was it?” a voice startles you out of your ogling sessions. if the garden was already this nice, what would be in store for you when you went in? you’ll be finding out soon when your employer himself opens the door to you, a man with striking white hair and equally striking blue eyes that seem to look right into you. he’s dressed in a suit, probably no doubt ready to get to work while you’re out here taking your time. you cringe, immediately walking up to the door.

“y-yes! yes, i’m sorry sir, i was just uhm—”

he holds that intimidating stare just for a moment but then he breaks into a smile that mirrors the bright sun that shines down on the porch.

“it’s alright . . it’s not everyday you’re working at some rich guy’s house, right?” he jokes but that strikes a little ick into you — he’s already ticking the boxes of obnoxious and excessively rich, but you hate the effect he’s having on you.

“yeah . . no, i guess,” he hums in reply before sticking a hand out.

“gojo satoru,” he introduces himself, “call me anything but that sir shit, alright, doll?”

you nod obediently, trying not to let the little pet name get to your head because he probably does this to any babysitter who comes through the house, but either way, he’s welcoming you in and it’s like you step into a world unreal. it’s spotless, the floors shining under the sunlight, a large television in the living room, a spacious open concept dining-kitchen area, and this is just the first floor.

gojo takes his time to show you the house — where his kid’s toys were, where the food was, where the bathrooms and bedrooms were, it was never-ending. every step you took made you feel like you were walking the length of the nile, each turn only revealing more rooms and corridors.

and then, finally, his baby boy.

“he’s a cheeky one, takes after his dad,” even with all the cockiness he’s shown to you, you can tell he has a soft spot for his kid. the boy stirs from his father’s voice, gleaming in happiness as he puts out his smaller hands to be picked up. as he settles into his arms, it’s just sinking in how tall your employer is. he makes a toddler look like a baby with how small his son looks wrapped snugly.

“satoshi, hi,” he whispers, bouncing the kid in his arms, “want to say hi to your onee-san?”

you manage a small wave but all he does is turn to hide in his father’s arms, definitely scared from a random stranger suddenly talking to him.

“she’s going to be taking care of you for the next month or so, you know?” he mumbles, brushing a hand through the matching white hair, “be nice to the babysitter, okay?”

all satoshi does is hum into his dad’s neck before he’s giving you a sheepish smile. “he’s like that, don’t worry about him.” and you return the smile, thinking that he wasn’t that obnoxious that you thought and that maybe he’s really a dad trying his hardest for his one kid. you realise he’s taking too much time, though, and so you sought out to remind him.

“oh, uh sir— gojo-san, don’t you have to go to work?”

although he’s mentioned satoshi to be taking after him, the boy goes right back to sleeping when he’s put back into his bed so you follow gojo as he adjusts his cuffs and smoothes out his collar just outside the room and you make the mistake of glancing upon the mirror on the far end of the corridor — it was undeniable that you looked like a high-end couple who’s newly married and raising a kid. you try to shake off the thoughts of adjusting his tie for him.

“it’s not being late if you’re on top.” he smirks and you resist the urge to roll your eyes; at least you weren’t alone in purging the delusional thoughts from your head, he was basically helping you at this point and you struggle between characterising him as conceited and admirable. “but, yeah, i should get going.”

but he stands at the door with backpack slung onto one shoulder while he continues to explain satoshi’s routines to you, his habits and also had to sneak in a few cute photos of the kid while squealing repeatedly and you’re left wondering how this guy could be the CEO of a company.

it’s been like that for as long as you can remember — bidding goodbye to your parents as you tell them that you’re off to your part-time job over the winter break. they’re happy you’re even leaving the house, shoving your lunch into your hands with big smiles that you’re at least doing anything other than sitting in your room. the train ride to the gated residential was nice, too, apart from the very crowded subways for people going to work in roppongi.

gojo greets you every morning when you arrive, reminding you of satoshi’s feeding times and his favourite shows and everything a father should know but don’t have the luxury to experience with aforementioned kid. it’s a little bittersweet, every time you see him kiss satoshi goodbye that turns into remaining in his room, to holding your hand and saying goodbye to daddy from the second floor, to getting carried by you at the front door.

it’s slow but sure progress day after day, from watching his cartoons, feeding him at the kitchen island, playing with his toys, that satoshi feels more and more comfortable with you, learning that while he was a well-behaved boy, he definitely had hints of your employer in him. mannerisms, words, voice, you wonder whether he even got any part of his mother in his genes.

you’d never ask, though, but it was told. unexpectedly.

“i’m home—” the last parts of his word die down into a whisper when he opens the door to see satoshi cuddled up to you, the last bits of home alone playing softly. by now you already know what happens in the movie so you’re texting your friends and laughing softly to yourself, jumping when your boss steps past the doorway. gojo winces when he checks his watch (“fuck. it’s already ten.”), toeing his shoes off and apologising simultaneously.

“oh— man, i’m so sorry, i had a late meeting with the CEO of our neighbouring franchise, i totally forgot about the time—” gojo’s quick to make his way down to the small pit of the house (he likes to call it the conversation pit), settling down on the side where satoshi had his head in your lap as his eyes linger on the movie. instinctively, his hands reach to pat his leg.

“oh, it’s okay, gojo-san, it’s the holidays anyway.”

“yeah?” he turns to you, one arm propped on the back of the sofa, “and why don’t a pretty girl like you have any plans?”

that catches you off-guard, among the many other times he’s called you pretty or sweets like no care in the world. you’re never quite used to it, too, seeking to fluster you. “you shouldn’t say stuff like that to me, gojo-san . .”

“why not?” he’s turned back to the television, now, and you take his place, staring at his side profile as the scenes of the movie move along his face. “i’m a single dad, aren’t i?”

“yeah but . . you could have anyone.”

“what if,” he turns and you chicken out, head snapping back to the front while he watches you and the both of you cannot deny the tiring dance you perform around each other all the time. the clench in his heart when he sees you carry his baby boy at the porch and the small smile he gives you every morning before he leaves for his job. he doesn’t want to go through with it and sighs.

it’s become hard to breathe around you. it’s become hard to hold himself back around you.

“i worked too much.” he suddenly says, facing the TV again. “i was too engrossed and . .”

confusion seeps in at first. yeah, it was no secret he worked his ass off despite being at the very top. your gaze falls to satoshi, curling more into your side like he’s cold and you adjust the blanket. you nod in recognition.

“we fought a lot. i tried— i tried to alter my schedule as much as i could, driving to and fro whenever she needed me, bringing satoshi to work as a baby when we couldn’t come to a compromise, but it was a lot. for her, for satoshi. he could sense whenever we were about to fight, on edge voices, items clattering to the floor . .”

by now, he’s leaned back, back of his hand resting on his forehead, “and he’d cry like he was interrupting us. cheeky, i told you,” and his eyes close, “we hardly reached middle ground. it was either this or that, hire a nanny or we take care of him, my endless job or the joy of life. i’m ashamed that i’ve prioritised my job more, and still do it now.”

“if you didn’t, i wouldn’t be here, would i?”

that draws a chuckle out of him, “correct.”

“she couldn’t take it, not when she was a businesswoman on top of that. she was out doing herself at every aspect in her job, going to greater heights, and while she accused me of putting work first, she isn’t entirely innocent, either. but that’s . .”

“you don’t have to say anything, gojo-san,” you mumble as you watch the reunion of the characters in the movie before the screen cuts the black, no doubt affecting him in some way at the warmth displayed by the movie that contrasts heavily with his situation, “the fact that you even told me is . .”

the heavy atmosphere is disrupted by satoshi gasping, “papa! you’re home.”

you exchange awkward smiles as you watch the boy fight his way out of the blanket to hug gojo, the latter huffing when the boy drops his body weight on him and you take it as a sign to give them a bit of privacy, standing up to clean up the popcorn and cups. laughter and your employer’s voice resonate throughout the place even as they go up the stairs, a rare occasion where gojo is able to get his son ready for bed.

it’s only maybe an hour later when the house falls into silence. mouth burning from the mouthwash, the heater in satoshi’s room turned to a high setting, one bedtime story was read (which, he fell asleep halfway), the boy was out like a light. you felt it inappropriate to leave without at least saying goodbye, but you also didn’t want to cut into their time together; at least, that’s what you told yourself.

so you waited with your things on the kitchen island, getting a risky text just as gojo comes down, still in his suit from work.

[11:02pm, nobara -> you] BITCH GET THAT DICKKKKK!!!!!!!

and you yelp softly, slamming your phone down onto his marble counter. thankfully, he doesn’t notice, eyes close to shutting from fatigue.

“oh, shit, you’re still here?”

“i thought it would be, weird, if i didn’t say goodbye,” you get ready to leave, slinging your tote bag on, “but i also didn’t want to intrude on your time with satoshi, limited as it is.” well, you did also wish something would happen, but you had too much pride to admit it to yourself.

“you got a ride home?” he yawns and you feel guilty for extending your stay already. you didn’t even need to worry about the front door, he lived in a gated community for christ’s sake!

“um, not really, but i can always book an uber home.”

“i’ll drive you home, it’s unsafe,” is all he says like he’s trying to convince himself, “let me just get changed and we can go.”

gojo doesn’t leave you any room to protest before he’s up the stairs again and you’re left with a pounding heart and dizzy head, not sure what might ensue. you know him to be honourable; you’ve seen him with his child, you’ve seen him interact with his neighbours, but a late ride with your boss sounds sketchy as it is.

but it doesn’t feel like it when you feel the tokyo wind blowing through your hair, a slight gap in the window bringing you the chills of the night as he silently drives you back home. sitting in your employer’s car most of all felt weird, but even more so when he’s reaching your home faster than the gps system had predicted. his knuckles are white.

“you—”

your head snaps to him, “yes?”

his car headlights are the brightest in the parking lot where every car is silent, quiet, much like his clammy hands and red cheeks. gojo satoru turns to you, feeling that familiar tug in his heart and lump in his throat for the first time in a while, and he can’t speak.

but you lean forward like your life depends on it and you leap inwardly when you see that he does the same. eyes trained forward, your stares boring into the other, waiting to see who’d close their eyes first. you just stop short of an inch, met with the hypnotising swirls of raging oceans in gojo’s eyes and you swallow when his eyes flit down to your lips and back up like he wouldn’t get caught.

with shaking hands, your fingers trace over his lips and you sigh when you feel just how soft they are, just like his skin, just like his eyes when they look at satoshi. your heart skips a beat when he just lightly kisses the pads of your fingers, and that encourages you to cradle his cheek, up his jaw, up his undercut.

“let’s just kiss, yeah?” he was afraid that if he spoke too loud, he’d shatter the glass, snap the string of tension, voice cracking until you swallow it, you stomach his nervousness with a lively, strong kiss from your lips to his, and he just melts.

gojo hums into the kiss, leaning forward over the stick shift and into the passenger seat before you counter it with your own movements: hand on his shoulders and pushing until you’re on his space of the driver’s seat and playing the game of tug that’s been going on for the past few weeks. you win.

“god, you’re so . .” gojo whines out when you climb onto him, whispering into your mouth while you get comfortable in your straddling position, cutting him off with a second, rougher kiss and you both moan softly, passion taking over in the evident way your arms scramble to wrap around him while he pulls you flush against his front.

the car is filled with sounds of your kissing, something that definitely shouldn’t be done in his home and yet you risk it all in your home’s parking lot. you break the kiss and hide in his neck, already starting the makings of a hickey there while your pelvis selfishly grinds into his front and he kneads your ass. in the mingling of breaths and moans, he’s left to stop the two of you when there’s a muffled ringtone coming from your bag and you swallow at the insanity of the situation.

“i’ll see you, monday, right?” gojo breathlessly says later, bulge still showing through his sweats while you hang outside the driver’s side, not wanting to leave. he takes your hand, planting a peck on it and then brings you in for another harmless kiss.

“yeah, gojo-san . . monday.”

you lose count of how many times you’ve swallowed throughout the night, but he says something to lift the mood just a bit.

“we just made out and you’re still calling me by my last name?”

you laugh lightly, “monday, satoru. i’ll be there, same time, on monday.”

gojo leaves a farewell kiss to the inside of your wrist, “attagirl.”

but if you’re not careful, it might just happen in satoru’s house.

the remainder of your employment at his house is tiring. it’s so hard not to kiss him before he leaves for work, so difficult not to long for him while you take care of satoshi, so entirely harrowing not to claim him as yours as you watch him play after his work. at this point, you’re hoping school will just start soon and the rush of assignments and readings will take your mind off of it, but you cannot deny the excitement every time you leave your house.

“you’ll bring food and cook every monday, wednesday, friday, and i’ll order food for the both of you every tuesday and thursday, how’s that?” gojo thinks it’s time to introduce him to larger pieces of food, but it’s gone past that by now and to your meal arrangements.

“i’m okay with cooking, though!” you assure him, and plus, you loved your parents’ home cooked bentos that they give you everyday, “do we gotta?”

“sorting out meals is tiring, (y/n),” gojo takes the place beside you, leaning against the counter just like you before drinking out of his cup, “i want to at least help at little.”

“you already are.” you smile, “i can see you making the effort.”

“it’s not enough, though, i could be doing better.”

gojo hates how this scene sets up — like two parents just figuring out the best for their kid — it’s a callback to the memory in the same exact kitchen. at least all you do is kiss and make out, because he wouldn’t know what to do if you moan out his name in that same intimate way that threatens his walls to come down again. he loved sex, he loved the bedroom, but he’s riding a thin line the way he’s doing with you.

“you are,” is everything that you say, and you leap forward to kiss him. you do it so hard that he has to put down the glass to fully embrace you, walking you backwards to the conversation pit and he carries you so effortlessly because he doesn’t want you walking backwards down some stairs.

he hates how you bring him into your lips, he hates how gently he lays you down, and he hates how you accept the kisses down your neck and body. you, on the other hand, aren’t doing so well, either — it’s either a hit or miss with a broken man like gojo satoru, and you’re stepping on glass shards hoping you don’t say anything wrong with him because he’s trying his best but he just can’t see it.

“are you okay with this?” he asks halfway down your torso and he gets lightheaded from how well his hands cover your waist. “tell me to stop, and i’ll stop.”

“n-no . . keep going, satoru.”

he exhales shakily at that, fingers tugging your top up and his hands are so cold you resist shivering, but you do anyway from the sheer fucking craziness that gojo drives you into. one pop of your button, and you’re already lifting your hips off the couch for him to remove your pants but movement on the stairs make you halt.

“papa?” satoshi calls out sleepily, rubbing his eyes and pouting. you can see it, almost, with how much time you’ve spent with the kid, and you hope he can’t see you. “i . . i had a nightmare and i just— i wanna sleep with you.”

he’s started sniffling and you feel your heart break that he knows his papa well enough to know he would never sleep in his room. his job always has him sleeping out in the living room.

go. you mouth, kissing your fingers and pressing it to his lips before he puts on a show — yawning, stretching his arms, already making satoshi feel at ease with his theatrics before he’s stopping at the foot of the stairs to look back at you. you already know gojo satoru has redeemed himself a hundred times over. i’ll see you tomorrow.

funnily, satoshi somehow does have some intervention powers, because each time the both of you attempt to go down on each other, he’s either saying he threw up, or he needs to use the toilet, or that he’s hungry. while you both love him to death, it’s also becoming difficult to hold back each time you see each other. his car in your parking lot is all he has and you dare not to go to his workplace where rumours would spark.

so after a tiring night of getting a hyper satoshi to sleep, you’d at least try. at this point, you know not to expect too much out of it, starting always with some talking. it was easy to talk to your boss, and when you phrase it like that, it did come off a little strange, but it was far from that when your boss in his late 30s looked just like he did ten years ago and that he had crazy blue eyes and insane white hair and was hot.

“thank you for taking care of him for the past month and a half,” gojo thanked you, leaning over to give you a peck to the temple, “it means a lot.”

“he’s a sweet boy, plus, i do need the money,” you giggle, nudging him, “and it did let me get to know you . .”

“certainly,” he mumbles. drunk off your scent, he leans in again, kissing you fully on the lips now. you hum softly, going on your tippy toes and wrapping your arms around his shoulder. swiftly, he props you on the kitchen counter and you yelp in surprise, unable to help the throb of your pussy when he slots himself in between your legs.

jokingly, he puts his hand to his ear. “no satoshi interruption tonight?”

you smack his shoulder, “don’t jinx it.”

he laughs, a proper laugh before he sighs shakily, fingers thumbing your sides gently. “you know . . we shouldn’t be doing this,” you feel your heart sink a little, but he quells it with hovering lips over yours, “he could hear and wake up.”

“then why have you been accepting all my kisses, gojo satoru?” your eyes challenge him, but you know one touch from him would have you submitting to him. his breath fans over your lips, and you can feel his pulse speed up when your fingers go over his neck, to his nape, to his undercut. you run your fingertips through it.

“you have too much power over me, simple.” that sentence has your eyes fluttering close. it’s too much for you and yet you welcome it with open arms, “it’s become so bad that you’re all i think about.”

“is that so?” you pull lightly on his hair.

he nods, foreheads touching now and he’s trying to hold himself back, but, “i’ve been holding back, entirely too much, baby, and i don’t think i can, anymore.”

“yeah?” you whisper, bringing him in with your legs, “show me, then.”

gojo satoru decides that maybe taking the leap isn’t so bad, so he fully gives himself to you, tugging your lips to his in a clashing kiss that has you groaning in pain just a bit. he giggles and apologises and tries again, and this time, it’s got your hips moving against him, whimpering into his mouth. gojo’s hard just from kissing, something that he’s desperate to relieve himself off so — he’s whispering for you to hang on while he slots his hands under your ass and lifts you.

satoru knows his house well, walking up with you in tow and lips still on yours, right into his room. you giggle when he plops you down and he’s already looking forward to ravishing you, but —

“let me check on satoshi for a sec.”

you laugh silently, “of course, satoru, go.”

and once your boss’ made sure his son is out cold in slumber, he’s all over you again and definitely showing you how much he’s been holding himself back. you’re the pure focus of the night, making you chase for more when he pulls away and kissing down your body. he worships it, tongue circling a nipple while his hand plays with the other, eyes staring holes into yours from how intense the blue was.

“s-satoru . .”

“yes, sweets, what is it?”

“feels good—” you whine, back arching into his hold once he leaves your tits and continues down your body. each kiss is like hellfire against your cold skin, and he pops a button and listens out again, both of you sighing in relief and giggling to each other when you don’t hear a knock on the door.

“does it? good.” it’s tantalisingly slow, the pace at which gojo peels your clothes off, but when your pants are finally off, he marvels at your beauty as he brings your legs apart. you’re shy, hiding yourself behind your arms and resisting his hands.

“aht, no, c’mon, show yourself, baby.” he only moans when he sees the dark patch at the centre of your underwear, pressing a finger into your clit and you’re ashamed at how intensely you react to it. gojo continues his torture, thumbing your bud just to watch your face contort into pleasure, “so, so pretty.”

you preen at the praise, even more so when he pulls your panties to the side and sucks slowly on your clit. it’s slow, again, and you’re clutching the sheets so tight when he lays his tongue flat against your pussy. satoru takes his time, savouring each bit of your cunt to make up for lost time, filling the room with the lewdest noises of your sopping cunt on his tongue.

“taste so fuckin’ sweet, pussy’s s’good,” he practically moans into your core, arms wrapping around your thighs to bring you closer while you try to keep your noises down to a minimum. little pants and mewls leave your lips, eyes never leaving the head of hair.

but he’s unpredictable, as gojo always is, so when he’s hovering over you just to give you a little innocent kiss, you think nothing of it, until he’s back in front of your pussy and starts eating you out like a starved man. you let out a loud moan, dragging it out until you’re gulping down your next sounds. it doesn’t help much, though, cause gojo’s slurping at your pussy like it’s the end of the world.

“s-satoru—! too much—” you moan but your hips grind into his mouth, your hands now finding purchase in his hair, “t-too loud.”

“mmf— don’t care,” he mumbles into your cunt, making sure he gets every drop of your arousal on his tongue while he abuses your clit, alternating between flicking his tongue and sucking hard and you think it’s the best head you’ve ever gotten.

“not when your cunt’s so perfect,” you only press his head deeper into you like it would stop his muffled sentences, but that only spurs him to suck harder before he just shifts down a little to plunge his tongue into your hole. you choke out a moan as his nose nudges your clit, clenching around his muscle.

“relax— mmhh, you gotta relax, baby,” he’s massaging your thighs but if anything it does the exact opposite, closing your thighs around his head in sensitivity.

“it’s— h-hard to,” you moan out, already feeling the coil in your tummy that’s approaching oh, so quickly when gojo eats you out like this. he shifts his attention back to your puffy clit, eyes flicking up to make contact with yours and you shrivel under his intense stare, “w-when you’re making me feel s’good—!”

you feel him smile into your cunt but he says nothing, taking note of the drop of your jaw, the scrunch of your eyes, the contractions of your stomach. your legs like to straighten out and shake when you’re close, he memorises. when you start to tighten your grip on his hair, he ingrains it in his mind.

“cumming— i’m c-close,” but it’s like satoru doesn’t even need it when his eyes digest the way he sends you over the edge with just his tongue.

“g— god! satoru!” your mouth falls into a silent scream after, head dipping so much into the pillow while you grind your cunt into his face, gushing all over his face with a renewed spirit and regret for all those times that men have rubbed your left lip thinking it was your clit.

“let it go, yeess . . that’s it,” satoru doesn’t hesitate to get sloppy, sucking up all your cum, gasping for air once he’s done with his meal, “pretty girl just came all over my face.”

you struggle to your elbows despite the words he utters, propped up just to catch a glimpse of him and the soaked bottom of his face that stretches into a smile.

“was that better than all the uni boys who’ve never felt the touch of a woman?” you laugh at that, making quick work of grabbing his chin and bringing him back to your lips.

“much, much better.” and you take the opportunity to flip the tables, trembling, shaking legs trying their best to wrap around his torso to straddle him — but once you’re over, you’re not quite sure what to do apart from letting your hands roam all over the expanse of his shoulders and chest.

“and can she do it again all over my cock?” the obscene words sound almost taboo falling from his mouth that your mouth drops open in initial shock, but it subsides into anticipation soon enough.

wordlessly, you take matters into your own hands, fingers making quick work of his trousers while he removes his top impatiently. the scowl on your face is prominent when you struggle to work his belt out and he chuckles with helping hands, the burn on your face deepening.

“there,” gojo giggles and he pulls you in with a peck-filled apology, “don’t worry, we have all the time in the world.”

you hum, “not when your son could knock any time soon.”

that prompts a giggle that fades off into a loud moan once your warm hand wraps around him, something that he’d never tell you how many times he’s fantasised about. slowly, you stroke his cock, excruciatingly slow just like how he’s done to your cunt earlier.

you’re hovering over him, now, dragging his tip along your pussy and whining softly at the pre-cum that mixes together with your juices. you need him into you as soon as possible, and apart from your soon burning thighs, you’ve been wanting this for as long as you’ve stepped foot into his house from the very first day.

inch by inch, you sink down onto gojo’s weeping cock, getting the luxury of feeling his sensitive twitches with the plunge into your cunt. you’re glad at least he had offered to stretch you out just a tad bit earlier, the intrusion of his fingers already having you panting for his dick; and now, when you have the real thing, it drives your mind insane.

“’t-toru— haah . .” your body curls up from the painful stretch, lips muttering the nickname unknowingly as you grasp onto his shoulders for support, and while he helps you on, he never stops saying the most filthy things, grinning each time you clench around him.

“never thought i’d be here, fuckin’ the babysitter, but here we are,” your oh my god is whispered only for the other to hear, body burning up from the words before he grinds his pelvis into yours and you slump forward in pleasure. your words are a bunch of nothingness, a string of incoherence, “and her pussy’s just so fucking— tight!”

giving you one or two breaths of rest, satoru coos in your face, cradling it and littering kisses all over it before he’s moving his hips and you’re breaking the kiss to whine out, moving your hips to meet his as well. you move sooner or later, bouncing on his cock once you’re more used to him in you and the position only hits all your spots just right.

“f-fuck— you’re so big—!” you roll your hips into him, eyes stuck on how there’s just a small bump in your tummy each time you bottom out. your boss from across you is equally ruined, eyes struggling to keep open with wet hair stuck to his forehead. “feel so so g-good . .”

“yeah?” he breathlessly mumbles, hand squeezing and kneading your ass and trying to help you, but the warmth of your cunt around his length just feels too good. “bounce on that dick, baby.”

and you do, planting your feet into the bed and fingers creating bruises along his shoulders as you impale yourself on his fat cock, switching to relaxing in his embrace and letting your hips do the work when your legs start hurting. there, you indulge in gojo’s lips as you hump him, the delicious friction of your clit against his pubes sending you reeling.

“you’re going to be soaking my sheets from how much you’re leaking,” gojo jests, letting your moans take over his mind while his lips trace down your neck, eyes just peeking over to see your ass ripple from the force. “not that i mind. how’s she doin’?”

“she’s getting,” a choked whine interrupts you, “a little tired.”

and that draws a laugh out of gojo who does nothing but tease you, something he likes to do even in makeout sessions, and he doesn’t hesitate to reach over to his bedsie table to grab his phone, leaning back to bask in your glory. here, your body just looks heavenly as you try your best to move on his lap.

“hang on a little more for me, princess,” with one hand, his larger hand leave chills all over your body and the other points his phone at you, not before making sure you were okay with it, “and smile for the camera.”

you try your best even when his hand make his way to your mouth, pulling it open with his fingers to slot it in. you’re sure you look like a whore right now, but the camera pointed your way only turn you on more, like it’s beckoning you to put on a show. and you loved the attention, so you close your lips around his fingers and start sucking, grinding even harsher on his cock that has gojo stuttering.

“y—yeah, attagirl . .” he grins at the video he takes, “show the camera how much of a cockslut you are.”

you whine, bringing the hand to your clit while you shove two hands onto his torso to really work your thighs out, feeling that familiar curl in your stomach once he starts rubbing his saliva-filed fingers along you bundle of nerves.

“r-right there, satoru—!” you swear under your breath, giving hooded eyes to the camera while you chase your high drunkenly, all sort of coherent thought banished from your head. “love your cock, love it, love it—!”

satoru swears he wants to cum from just watching you use him, and even holding himself back is proving difficult when you clamp and tighten around him until his fingers press particularly deep into your clit and you’re cumming with a loud cry of his name, body convulsing all over the video.

“tha’s a good girl . . cream my cock, yeeaaahh . .” gojo watches, hypnotised, as you lose control over your body, but the pleasure-filled whimper that you merge his name with is just too good, that he spills unexpectedly in you. the video is far from stable, so he only slaps the phone down to relish in his orgasm. gojo pushes his hips up and you gasp at the feeling, back arching when you feel his cum seep into you.

you’ve never even given much thought to pregnancy, but the feeling of his cum dribbling into you fogs your mind that you only want more after a mental note to buy the morning after pill tomorrow.

“n-need more,” you beg, fondling at his cheeks and undercut, “w-want more cum in me, satoru . .”

and it’s like a flip switches in him, because he’s flipping you over right after — he has to see his cum leave your pussy first though, taking the still ongoing video and putting it right up to your pussy, using his tip to smear your mixed juices all around.

“who knew i’d hired such a dirty girl?” he addresses the camera more than you, but he catches your flustered glance with a wink and after poorly setting up the camera on his bedside table (he just was too intoxicated on your cunt), he’s pushing back into you with a loud groan, not even caring for the consequences any more. his cum is just so much, too, spilling out the sides.

“only f’r you,” you mumble, grabbing at his forearms needily. your eyes flutter close as he bottoms out, your legs pushed right up to your chest as he folds you whichever way he wants to. at this point, if he wanted to own you, you wouldn’t object one bit, not when gojo satoru’s cock stretches your pretty pussy so nicely. “a cumslut only for you.”

“yeah?” he starts moving his hips and your arch into his hold, “i wonder how i got so — fuck — lucky.” everything is sloppy and wet and disgusting and you love every moment of it, even after he’s cummed in you the second, third, fourth time, you’re happy to be pumped full of his cum, giving him a tired, glistening grin that he returns.

“think i should be transferring over my life savings for a cunt this sweet,” you giggle at the compliment, but don’t protest when he’s pulling up the app to gift you with a hefty amount; both your salary and bonus, all from making gojo satoru fall helplessly just from your touch — something to brag about indeed.

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entitled-fangirl · 10 months ago

Text

Breakfast is ready.

Felix Catton x reader

Summary: The reader feels sick, but Felix is going to make sure she eats breakfast.

Words: 968

Warnings: sickness, cursing

Author's note: This is kind of from an ask but I made it just about breakfast!

Masterlist

................................................................

She woke up to the blinds being opened by the maid, "Breakfast is ready."

She let out a soft groan, sitting up and stretching her arms out. Her hair was a mess, her clothes frumpeld. She looked over to see that Felix's side of the bed was empty and quite cold. He had been out for a while, and she couldn't possibly guess why he would leave her.

She pushed herself to the edge of the bed, standing onto her feet. Her head hurt, perhaps her body becoming ill, but there was no skipping breakfast. Her legs shivered, her now realizing she is only in Felix's shirt and her underwear.

Running to the dresser, she pulls a pair of slacks. Pulling them on quickly, she throws a jumper over Felix's shirt. She tames her hair just enough to look presentable. But she takes an extra minute in the mirror, looking at the bags under her eyes. How late had they stayed up?

Throwing on a pair of socks to keep her feet warm, she quickly goes downstairs to breakfast.

Entering the dining room, she's greeted with quiet, "Morning"s. Her eyes immediately scan the table, seeing Felix look up at her too. A bright smile comes across his face at the sight of her sleepy form.

She quickly moves to sit next to him. As she sits down, she feels Felix's hand rest on her back, "You alright, angel?" He asks in a low tone.

"I… yeah. I just don't know why you didn't wake me up this morning." Her hand reaches up to her head as the headache comes back.

He lets out a soft laugh, whispering in her ear, "Well, I figured you deserve as much beauty sleep as I could give you. Seemed to work. I mean, look at you this morning. Taking my fuckin breathe away."

A smile graced her face as her cheek turned a shade of pink.

Duncan entered, "Goodmorning. How would you like your eggs?"

She grimaced, her voice coming out still quiet and hoarse from her sleep, "I'm fine, Duncan. I'm not that hung-"

"-She'll have them over easy. Thanks."

Duncan leaves with a nod.

She turned to Felix, "Why did you do that?"

He shrugs, his arm going over the back of her chair, "You need to eat."

She gives a slight pout, "I can't… my head hurts too bad."

His eyebrows furrow, "Did you sleep alright?"

She nods, "I slept fine, Lex."

He doesn't take that for an answer.

"Listen, angel. You think you're getting sick?"

"No. No. I'm alright."

He nods, deciding not to fight about it at the table. A silence ensues for a while before he decides to break it again. "Oh, angel. We were talking about the Shelley biography."

Venetia jumped in, "yeah. Do you know the story about Shelley's doppelgänger?"

She shook her head, stopping once she remembered the headache.

Felix got up from the table, going to the side table.

Venetia continued, "Shelley's housekeeper was cleaning one of the rooms when Shelley walked past the window and waved at her. So, she waved back before she realized that Shelley was in Italy…"

Felix had returned to the table, gently setting the now made plate in front of his angel for her to eat. She looked at him with a slightly disagreeing look, but knew not to fight about it at the table.

"…And she was on the top floor of the house…"

Felix grimaced at Venetia's story, his hands moving over his girl's ears to keep her from hearing it. If it would freak him out, he knew she shouldn't hear it, "Oh, Vee. Stop, stop, stop. I won't sleep."

But she continued, "…a few hours later, he drowned."

Elspeth gasped, "oh. Oh, that's just given me goosebumps."

Felix took his hands back, considering it safe for his girl to listen again.

Farleigh stared at the paper in front of him, his voice strong and uncaring, "I heard he fucked his sister."

Sir James finally spoke up, "Oh, for God's sake!"

Felix turned, "Jesus, Farleigh…"

Oliver quipped up, "I think that was Byron."

The table went quiet, as if everyone had forgotten that Oliver was there. That quickly turned to small chatter between the adults.

Farleigh looked disgusted but Felix held an amused smile on his face, turning to her to see she had a matching one. He then pointed at her plate, as if telling her to eat it. About that time, Duncan brought out her eggs, setting it next to her other full plate. She let out a sigh, staring at the food.

Elspeth was brought out of her talk hearing the girl's sigh. "Oh, darling. Is everything alright?"

Her eyes snapped up, her mouth opening to answer, but Felix beat her to it, "she's not feeling well, that's all."

The mother nodded, "Oh, I see. Nasty sickness going around this time of year. Take your time today, darling."

She nodded gratefully, turning back to her plate. The chattering continued and she continued to stare at the plate. Eventually, Felix brushed her arm lightly with his, his voice soft again, "Is something wrong, angel? You really must eat."

She simply stared at the eggs, feeling herself get sick just staring at them. Felix noticed it, immediately moving the plate away, "Duncan. Could I actually get some eggs just… scrambled?"

"Felix, stop."

"No. I want you to be able to eat what's in front of you. Duncan?"

Duncan nodded, taking the plate away quickly.

She turns to see everyone staring at them. She mutters a quiet, "I'm sorry."

Felix sighs, "Don't be, angel." He kissed the top of her head as she stared at the table in embarrassment.

Breakfast continued, Felix's arm around the back of her chair the entire time.

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#fanfiction #felix catton #felix catton imagine #felix catton x reader #felix catton x you #jacob elordi imagine #jacob elordi x reader #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn 2023 #saltburn #saltburn movie #felix catton fanfic #felix

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sematarygirls · 25 days ago

Note

can you do rafe and reader matching Halloween costumes?

🎃 ⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ ─── you make rafe do a couple's costume !

"This is the stupidest fuckin' idea you've ever had," Rafe grumbled begrudgingly as he stood in the bathroom, looking at his reflection in the mirror to aid him in tying his tie.

"We look so cute!" you beamed, ignoring your grumpy boyfriend's dramatics. You had the bright idea that since it was your first Halloween together, it would be so cute to do a couple's costume. Of course, Rafe vehemently protested this idea because he thought he was too cool for Halloween and that dressing up was stupid and childish. The only part he liked of the season was the copious parties with scantily clad women in their sexy-fied costumes and free booze.

It took a great deal of begging and pleading (and a promise of lots of sex to make up for his trouble and lost street cred) for him to finally agree to dress up with you, but when he did, you were over the moon.

You had tons of different ideas. Rafe insisted on the whole cop and prisoner costume, but you shut him down, knowing he had ulterior motives. He just wanted an excuse to put you in handcuffs and have you at his side the entire night. You also considered Ghostface and Sidney Prescott, but you pocketed that idea for another time when finally, you thought of Morticia and Gomez Addams.

You knew Rafe would be more inclined since the costume mainly just consisted of a suit, which meant he wouldn't be dressing up as much as the other costumes demanded. Plus, you knew he'd never pass up the chance to see you in a black dress that hugged you in all the right places—he was a man after all.

His gaze flickered over to your reflection in the mirror, roaming your figure appreciatively. That dress was working for you, and the makeup you'd done to complete the look just made you look all the more sexy. "Why don't we just stay home, yeah?" He proposed. As good as the costume looked on you, he knew it would look better on his bedroom floor.

You rolled your eyes at his entirely predictable suggestion. "I did not get all dressed up just to stay inside all night," you told him, pulling at his arm to turn him toward you, so you could fix his tie. "Besides," you glanced up at him, a smile tugging at your lipstick coated lips. "I want to show all your friends how whipped I've got you."

"I'll take this shit off right now," he threatened, but you knew he wouldn't dare, not when he was betting on you putting out tonight.

"Oh, cmon, don't be like that," you grinned, leaning up to give him a quick kiss on the lips. He tried to pull you closer and deepen the kiss, but you pulled away. "Ah ah ah," you scolded, using your thumb to swipe away some lipstick that had transferred onto his lips. "You're gonna mess up my makeup."

"You just wait till tonight. I'm gonna mess up your makeup alright," he smirked, his eyes glinting with promise as his hands went to your hips, tugging you closer.

"Mhm," you giggled, planting your hand on his chest and pushing him away. "Keep it in your pants, pretty boy," you told him, turning back to the mirror to fix your smudged lipstick. He crossed his arms watching you intently, thinking of all the things he was going to do to you when you two got back from the Halloween party.

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jjunieworld · 11 months ago

Text

ot5 txt x gn!reader ⇢ their s/o having another member’s photocard in their phonecase — requested by anon, enjoy! ♡

genre: fluff, no warnings!┊masterlist

yeonjun would start pouting his pretty lips as soon as he saw it. he come up to you and wrap his arms tightly around your waist, burying his head in the crook of your neck. “baby, do you not love me? why am i not in your phonecase?” yeonjun would then sulk, making sure to follow you around like a lost puppy until you finally sighed and gave in to changing it. his bright and beautiful smile immediately appearing on his face. he would then practically drag you to your photocard binder—most of which are him—and the two of you would pick out a photocard of his together. each time you suggested a cute one of him he would immediately start shaking his head, snatching the binder from you. yeonjun would then pick out all of his less cutesy photocards and lay them out for you to choose from. then he’d turn to you, beaming, waiting for you to pick. once you finally put it in your phonecase he’d make you take all kinds of mirror selfies showing it off.

soobin wouldn’t mind all that much, but he would be a little disappointed and displeased that it wasn’t a photocard of him. he would sigh loudly, glancing over to you and sighing again until you heard him. “y/n, do you think my photocards are good?” you’d smile warmly at him, telling him of course they are, they’re some of the best! i mean, it took you forever to get the blue hour photocard of him. soobin would then glance pointedly to your phone, shrugging. then he would sigh dramatically again, looking away to hide his smile. you would follow his gaze to the photocard of one of his members in your phonecase. “soobin… you literally have a photocard of taehyun in your wallet. you don’t see me pouting, do you?” you’d tell him. he would smile widely, dimples popping out, as the two of you laughed.

beomgyu would gasp loudly, snatching your phone from you and staring at the back of it with wide eyes. “you literally have an idol boyfriend, why is my photocard not in the back of your phone?! of all the people it’s one of my members??” you try to tell him that his member is your bias but he isn’t having any of it, arms crossed and lips in a pout. if fact, you saying that only makes it worse. beomgyu gives you the most dramatic look of betrayal you have ever seen on his pretty face. you giggle and try to kiss him, telling him that it isn’t a big deal but he just turns his head away from you. the next day you notice that the photocard has been changed to one of him instead. beomgyu acts as if the other photocard never happened, taking your phone and saying how pretty your phone case is.

taehyun would stare at you with wide eyes for a couple moments. you had just come up to him, wanting to show him a funny video you just watched, when he caught the back of your phonecase. “why is a photocard of one of my members in the back of your phone?” he would ask, genuinely curious. not even paying attention to the video you were showing him. taehyun would think it was some mistake. maybe you grabbed the wrong one? when you told him that he was your bias taehyun would stare at you again, a shocked grin forming on his face. he’d ask you if you were joking. you would say that you were and how it was just a prank, giggling at his reaction. taehyun would let out his cute laugh, side eying you a bit, but laughing nonetheless.

hueningkai would bring up the idea of the two of you decorating your phonecases together. you both would pull out all of the stickers and anything you wanted in your phone case and spread them out on the floor. you and hueningkai would spend near an hour discussing and figuring out how you’d want your cases to look. trying different layouts and such. when you jumped up to get your photocard binder, having the perfect idea of which photocard you wanted to use, hueningkai wouldn’t be able to help the grin that crossed his face. when he saw that it wasn’t one of him—“you know which photocard would look soo good with your phonecase…?”— the grin would drop. he wouldn’t even say anything about your choice, just giving you the side eye until you noticed how frequently he kept mentioning his photocards. you would laugh, changing the photocard out for one of him and seeing his pretty smile light up his face.

taglist: @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka

masterlist┊request rules ૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა

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hyugos9blue6small9hairs · 4 months ago

Text

Sol x reader

Wearing costumes associated with each other to the halloween party

You're head is down on your desk, infront of you is Crowe "I just don't know what I'm going to do about the party" you grown as you punch the desk that's under you, Crowe softy smiles at you, you pause as you look up at him, his gaze soft and welcoming "why don't I help you figure it out" he tilts his head to the side with a smile on his face as he spoke "I mean it's only in two more days, and Sol's coming, right?" He asks, you nod in response.

Now you're here at some halloween themed store (Totally not spirt halloween) you're following behind Crowe browsing the Iles

"what are you being?" You ask him, Crowe cracks a smile in response to your question

"I'm going as a plague doctor" he beams his bright, welcoming, gentle smile, he turns away awkwardly scratching the back of his head "though...I did consider going as a crow" you smile in response placing your hands behind your back and standing up straight

"Considered picking something that fit the name?" She teased leaning in towards him

"Yeah" he whispers happily.

Something finally managed to catch your eye.

Crowe's voice from behind you made you flinch "you're going to be a vampire?" He asks

you quickly turn around to face him "no" you say firmly standing up straight with your head up high "that's unoriginal, I'm going to be!" You slam your foot down on a sensor triggering a monster to pop out at Crowe, he moves back in response in an attempt to continue looking at you.

"I'm going to be a vampire's victim" you overdramaticly place the back of your hand on your forehead.

Crowe chuckles slightly "a Vampire's victim?" You nod enthusiastically

Crowe stares at you "wouldn't you just be wearing normal clothing?"

You fold your arms staring back at him "I'll manage" you smile.

You're at home lying on your couch on your phone, your phone vibrates, phone already in hand you look to see who texted you

Hyugo

He texted you

"I heard you're going to some halloween party, what are you going as?"

You: "a vampire's victim, how did you know I was going?"

"Sol said you invited him"

You:"I did 😅 he still going?"

"With him right now, he's being grumpy cuz I dragged him to this detective movie 🙄"

"This dude has to figure out why all these kids have been going missing, turns out this one girl had this stalker-"

Hyugo continued ranting to you about the movie, all you could do was smile down at your phone.

Day of the party

You're at the front door Crowe is greeting you and you head inside while texting Sol that you are inside, you quickly run and check a close by mirror to make sure you're makeup is okay, you have a very detailed bite mark on your neck with blood running down it all the way to the top of your chest. Your phone vibrates

"Here"

You quickly move to the door opening it and Sol walks inside, the two of you make it to a corner out of people's way, Sol turns to look down on you.

You finally see the details in his costume "you're a Vampire" you mumble with surprise.

I wasn't sure how to continue this, so if you want a part 2 please give me some ideas T.T

#solivan brugmansia #crowe #the guy at the back #the kid at the back #yandere game #visual novel #tkatb vn #tkatb sol #the kid at the back vn #the kid in the back #tkatb hyugo #tkatb crowe #the kid at the back Crowe #the kid in the back Crowe #the kid at the back sol #the kid in the back sol #the kid at the back hyugo #the kid in the back hyugo

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aspergerasparagus · 7 days ago

Note

I just found this blog and I love your writing so much!! I was wondering if you take suggestions? If so, possibly a little thing about Lucky’s consciousness getting transferred to an animatronic from that one ask, I found it a really interesting idea!! No worries if not you can just ignore the suggestion!

Thank you and angst hours angst hours angst hours!

Pain. Searing red hot pain piercing through his chest. The agony almost indescribable, each breath more tortuous than the last as the blood filled his lungs and his throat, choking him. The rabbit merely offering him fake comfort and empty words as they cradled his broken body, the ecstasy in their voice impossible to hide as they lived out their fantasy. Then darkness. Those were the last things Lucky remembered. It should have been the last things, it should have been his death. But he wasn't deserving of such a luxury. He had so much more to offer.

Gasping, Lucky’s eyes shot open. He was alive. How the fuck was he alive? His mind raced as his eyes darted around, desperately trying to see if Frankie was still around, trying to figure out where he was. Was he in heaven? Hell? Finally his eyes focused as he realised he was laying on some sort of metal bench, harsh fluorescent lights hung over him. The only sound in the room their dull hum and the sound of his own frantic breathing. A painful flash of his last moment’s shot through his head, making him whimper as he clutched his temple. What was happening? What the hell was going on?! Opening his eyes again he felt his blood run cold as he saw his hand.

A bright red cartoony glove met his eyes. Oh fuck no. No. no no no NO NONONONONO! This couldn’t be real! This just had to be a nightmare, a horrible nightmare that he’d awaken from. Hands shaking he dared to look down at his body, expecting hoping to see his broken human body. Please God, please don’t let this be real.

A choked sob was all he could manage as he was met with a grey, cold, metal suit. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream, claw at this fake body, tear it shreds and reveal his soft human body underneath. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t shed a tear. He couldn’t scream. This body didn’t accommodate such comforts. Fear, disgust, anger, resentment soon overwhelmed him as Lucky tried desperately to get to his feet. He had to get away. He had to-

Lucky cried out as he crashed to the ground in a pile of slinky limbs, his body refusing to obey him due to its strange new anatomy. Staring down at the jumbled mess that was once his legs, he couldn’t figure out how to make them work. They just twitched erratically, unable to process their master's orders. Gagging, he ripped his eyes away, unable to stomach the sight any longer. Pushing down the urge to just curl up and resign himself, Lucky forced his arms to move. Awkwardly he dragged himself across the floor, his arms twitching and spasming with each exertion. He was nearing the door to the room when he made the terrible decision to glance to his side.

What little composure he was maintaining vanished in an instant as he locked eyes with an oversized rabbit that stared right back at him. Their eyes unblinking even with the heavy lids upon them. Their cartoonish grin a cruel mockery to the man in front of them. Trembling Lucky raised a hand, the rabbit in the mirror mirroring him. Touching his face, the rabbit did the same and that was it. Lucky snapped.

A gut wrenching scream forced its way from his throat, the voice foreign and distorted, crackling like it was being projected over a speaker. It was all too much. This couldn’t be real. This had to be a dream. He continued to scream, unable to stop himself now. Swinging his arms widely in anguish, lashing out at anything and everything he felt an arm connect with the table he’d awoken on, sending it flying into the wall. The sound of metal crunching was unable to reach him as he continued to let his pain out. In a fit of desperation he tore at his face, begging for the mask to come off like it once had. Please take it off! I don’t want it on anymore! But he couldn’t find the seam anymore. There had to be one! He felt his fingers dig into the metal as he tried with everything to rip the damn thing off, only to have his hand suddenly yanked away.

“Shhh, no more of that my little rabbit. We can’t have you damaging yourself so soon.” Lucky felt his stomach drop as he slowly turned to look up at the source of the voice.

“F-F-Frankie…” The other rabbit just purred, hearing his little contestant say his name. He must have missed hearing that. A sudden wave of fresh horror caused Lucky to lurch away. No, not him. Anyone but him. Crying out he hopelessly tried to crawl away, his metal arms uselessly gasping at the floor, his legs dragging behind him, dead weights now. He heard the other rabbit chuckle before they snatched at his ears, yanking him back with a force he hadn’t seen before. Lucky could only screech in pain as he trashed about like a rabbit in a snare, but it was useless, he was caught and there was no escape. Not ever again.

“Shh Lucky. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” Frankie’s voice was so soft and gentle as he released his hold and scooped up the man rabbit into his arms, burying his face against theirs. “I’ve missed you so much, but I did promise to not let you rot with all the others. I have much greater things in mind for you, my lucky contestant.” The dangerous growl at the end only made Lucky choke on another sob. Why couldn’t he have just let him die? Let him finally be free of this place. Be free of him.

He tried to let out a fresh set of screams but Frankie just hushed him.

“No more of that okay. You’ve already damaged your voice module from all that noise before, so no more yelling. It’ll be okay Lucky, I’ll help you get through all this. Get you used to this new body of yours and tell you what you’ll be doing from now on.” Lucky could only look at him numbly, Frankie’s hand coming to cup their cheek, wiping the oil that had been leaking from their eyes before he leaned in, pushing their mouth together in a sick mockery of a kiss.

“But for now, that can wait. We’ll have plenty of time to catch up but for now, why don’t you have a little rest my cute new little rabbit.” With that Lucky felt his vision go black as he fell into a void of unconsciousness. The last thought replaying over and over in his mind:

Please. Please just let me die.

#my writing #finding frankie #real frankie #rabbitroyale

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gatorbites-imagines · 11 months ago

Note

Could you do a Ken (Ryan Gosling) X Male Reader X Ken (Simu Liu) SMUT? Their Rivalry turning Raunchy when it comes to the MR: Whose kisses are better, who is the better makeout partner, who can give better blowjobs(Resulting in MR getting a Double BJ from both), whose penis, balls, and cum are better and tastier, and finally whose Ass tastes and feels best! ;) ALSO if neither Ken's have genitalia, just smoothness, do they love it when MR rubs and licks them their, turning into moaning messes? ;)

Stereotypical Ken x Male Reader x Pompadour Ken

Headcanons

I’ve learned the only way I can get in the mood to write about Ken is to listen to Bimbo Doll on repeat.

It’s gonna be so confusing saying stereotypical Ken and Pompadour Ken over and over, but I have no idea how else to refer to them 😭

How you ended up with not one but two kens following you around, you had no idea. Maybe it was the fact that you stole two of your sisters ken dolls as a kid, and used to play with them when you played with your ninja turtle toys and monster trucks.

Or maybe it was the fact that you worked at Mattel for like, a few months, and specifically had worked on outfits for Ken and only Ken. It meant you had some kind of connection to them, in some way.

Maybe it was also because you got dragged along with everything that happened with the Kens taking over barbieland, and you had to go save it with the rest.

Stereotypical Ken had been absolutely glowing when you said he looked pretty cute in his Kenough hoodie, and Pompadour Ken immediately seemed to hook onto that, for some reason. Being rivals just seemed to be in their blood, bodies? Plastic?

Now that stereotypical Ken knew how to get from Barbieland into the real world, you get used to him just showing up at your apartment sometimes. He would never tell Pompadour Ken how to get there, because he doesn’t want his rival to have that advantage, but they both figure it out at some point.

Any weaker man would have buckled or probably passed out from the blood rushing upwards and downwards at having two very attractive, not very bright but enthusiastic men, rubbing against you from both sides.

But you were not a weak man, for the most part. In the beginning their competitions were on the normal side. From whom could do the best backflip, to who could cook the best brownies, you never really questioned it, and somehow always made sure to keep their “score” equal.

Both Kens must have stumbled across more adult content, or the overexposure of being in the real world started giving them ideas, because you almost had a heart attack coming home from work one day and they both almost knocked you over, their lips immediately all pressing against your neck and chin.

You end up having to sit them down and scold them, but from then on it seems like a switch has been flipped inside stereotypical Ken and pompadour Ken.

Their competitions start becoming steamier, from kissing, to make outs, to full body massages. You aren’t complaining of course. It’s horrible for your ego, having two hot guys rubbing you all over and competing to see who can make the best hickey on your chest.

You almost get a nosebleed when you come home from work one day to see them both on speedos, comparing their bodies in front of a full body mirror you didn’t even know you owned.

You get lightheaded from how much blood is rushing downwards as they grope and squeeze each other, grumbling half compliments-half insults at each other. It ends up with you just leaning against the doorway and watching for a bit, because how can you not.

They both also seem so taken with you, especially when you come home from work, especially if you do a blue-collar job. It seems to tickle some kinda manliness nerve inside them, as they both seem so obsessed with your uniform or how rough your hands are.

Its kinda nice honestly, coming home to two attractive guys who are so excited to see you and please you in one way or another. It did catch you off guard the first time they scrambled into your lap, one on each thigh, Pompadour Ken stating you needed them to help figure out who the best kisser was.

Of course, you never ended up giving them a solid answer, which they quickly forgot, as both Kens seemed to become almost mindless and weak in the knees from just kissing alone.

When they first gain genitals, you bet your ass they’re comparing size, girth, hairs, anything. They would want your opinion too. You, being a bit of a tease, would go down on them and leave them both whining and whimpering as you suck them off.

The experience feels like some kind of awakening for them both, and you swear they’re gonna start throwing hands on who gets to go down on your first. You’ll have to remind them they can both go first, maybe by wording it like a competition.

It ends up extremely sloppy and with little finesse or skill, but by God are they enthusiastic. Two mouths on you at once, both looking up at you with those begging eyes of their, trying their damnest to make you cum.

After making you cum, both stereotypical Ken and pompadour Ken seem even more energized. You can expect to get head at least once a day from then on, some days even twice, as they don’t wanna share every time. I pray for you.

They become fiends are they get a hang of the internet, saying all kinds of dirty things to you and wanting to try so many different things. Stereotypical Ken would definitely want to ride you, and I can see pompadour Ken wanting you to eat him out till he’s crying into the pillow and shaking.

Its like having two dogs in heat running around sometimes, they’re gonna have to learn how to help each other, because you can in no way keep up, especially when their rivalry kicks up a notch like it does sometimes.

To have mercy on yourself and your body, you end up able to convince them that you can sit back and watch, and then pick a winner from there. They would still want you involved sometimes, or most times for that matter, since they are sure you can judge it better that way.

At some point you have to be careful when you have visitors over, as both Kens just take to walking around in the nude, because why cover up when they wanna show off to you?

They are both so beautiful in very way that you don’t mind most days, but you don’t wanna have someone over and then see the two of them making out on the couch, trying to settle who the best kisser is for the fourth time this week.

You still love them, even though they leave you feeling like a juice box with all the air sucked out, or more dehydrated than after a full day working in the sun. They’re your messy competitive boys, and you’d probably allow them to get away with anything if they looked at you with those pretty eyes of theirs and pouted.

They never end up being able to settle any of their competition with you after all, but at this point the competitions just seem like a cover or habit to get in the mood or get each other riled up.

Both Kens are pretty submissive by nature, which is why they pull out their rivalry most times when they wanna do something but both feel so shy to ask you to do it with them, and you might enable them a bit too much sometimes, but you all enjoy it too much to stop.

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m4rv3l-girl · 3 days ago

Note

Could you do a request based off this song

https://youtu.be/8ofCZObsnOo?si=yGD6SMOL25REbasf

Like it's bucky pov about finding the reader hiding a serious injury after a mission and passing out in the bathroom with the door locked

I need major angst then super fluffy Ending🙏

Hold On

Bucky x Y/N

Warnings: Angst. Injury. Mentions of violence. Blood. Super fluffy ending. 😉

The quinjet’s hum was steady, almost comforting, as Bucky slumped into the seat across from Y/N. His eyes were drawn to her like a magnet. She sat stiffly, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, staring blankly at the wall as if lost in thought. Normally, she’d be cracking jokes with Sam or recounting some detail of the mission. Tonight, though, she was silent.

Bucky frowned.

“You okay, Doll?” he asked softly, keeping his voice low enough that only she could hear.

Y/N blinked, startled by his voice. For a second, her expression softened, the corners of her lips tugging upward in a weak smile. “Yeah, just tired.”

It wasn’t a lie, exactly, but it wasn’t the truth either.

Bucky’s frown deepened. He studied her face—the way her skin seemed paler than usual, the tightness around her eyes. His gaze dropped to her hands, noticing how her fingers twitched slightly, almost like she was fighting to keep them steady.

“You sure?” he pressed. “You don’t look—”

“I said I’m fine, Bucky.” Her tone wasn’t sharp, but it was firm enough to make him pause.

Bucky leaned back, his jaw tightening as he nodded. “Alright. If you say so.”

The rest of the ride passed in tense silence.

By the time the quinjet touched down, Y/N was the first to unbuckle and make a beeline for the exit. Bucky followed, watching her retreating figure with growing unease.

She was limping—subtle, but there. His enhanced senses caught the slight drag of her right foot, the tension in her posture as though she was bracing against pain.

Still, she didn’t say a word.

“Y/N, wait up,” he called, his long strides easily catching up with her.

She stopped but didn’t turn to face him. “I just need a shower and some sleep, Buck. I’ll see you in the morning.”

The words felt final, a wall thrown up between them. Before he could argue, she slipped inside her room and closed the door softly behind her.

Bucky stood there for a moment, staring at the closed door. A knot of worry twisted in his chest, but he forced himself to respect her space. If she wanted to talk, she’d come to him—right?

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

Inside her room, Y/N leaned heavily against the door, her breaths shallow and uneven. The adrenaline that had kept her upright on the mission was gone now, leaving behind searing pain radiating from her side.

When she reached the mirror, she caught sight of herself—pale, gaunt, and shaking. Her hand trembled as she gripped the hem of her shirt, pulling it up just enough to expose the wound.

The gash was deep, running diagonally across her right side. The edges of the cut were jagged, torn by shrapnel rather than a clean blade, and blood oozed steadily from the open flesh. A makeshift bandage she'd tied during the mission was soaked through, crimson seeping into the fabric and dripping sluggishly down her side to pool on the tiled floor.

“Shit,” she hissed through clenched teeth, her head spinning. The room seemed to tilt and blur as she fumbled for the first aid kit.

She tore open a packet of antiseptic wipes, her fingers clumsy and slick with blood. When she pressed the wipe to the wound, a whimper escaped her lips, the searing pain like fire licking at her nerves.

“I can do this,” she muttered, grabbing the first aid kit from the cabinet.

Blood continued to flow, the bright red mingling with the darker, dried streaks on her skin. The sight made her stomach churn, but she bit down on her lip, determined to clean and close the wound herself.

But her body had other plans. As she reached for the bandages, her vision tunneled, black spots dancing before her eyes. The world spun violently, and her knees buckled, sending her crashing to the floor.

Her head struck the cold tiles, and for a brief moment, everything went still. Blood seeped from the wound in a slow, relentless trickle, pooling around her as her body lay limp and unmoving.

She knew she should have told Bucky, or at least let the medics on the jet take a look. But the thought of admitting she couldn’t handle it, of being a burden, made her stomach churn.

She didn’t want him to hear.

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

Bucky couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

He paced his own room, running a hand through his hair as his mind replayed every moment of the mission. Y/N had been reckless—throwing herself into the thick of the fight, taking risks she normally wouldn’t.

And now, the way she’d brushed him off...

He stopped, listening carefully. His enhanced hearing picked up faint sounds coming from her room—a muffled groan, the clatter of something hitting the floor.

His stomach dropped.

“Y/N?” He was at her door in seconds, knocking firmly. “Y/N, you okay in there?”

No response.

“Doll, open the door.” His voice was sharper now, edged with fear.

Still nothing.

The sound of something heavy hitting the floor was the last straw. Bucky’s heart pounded as he threw his weight against the door, the lock giving way under his strength.

What he saw made his blood run cold.

Y/N was crumpled on the bathroom floor, her shirt stained red with blood. The first aid kit lay scattered around her, its contents unused. Blood was everywhere—on her shirt, smeared across her fingers, and pooling around her side where the wound continued to bleed. It wasn’t a slow trickle anymore but a steady, terrifying flow that made his heart stop beating.

“Y/N!”

Bucky dropped to his knees beside her, his metal hand gently brushing her hair away from her face. She was pale, her breathing shallow, her lips tinged blue.

“No, no, no. Come on, Doll, keep your eyes open for me.” His voice cracked as he pressed his Vibranium hand against the wound, trying to stem the bleeding.

Her eyelids fluttered, a weak groan escaping her lips.

“Buck... don’t...,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

“Don’t what? Save you?” His laugh was bitter, panicked. “You’re bleeding out, and you want me to not help? What the hell were you thinking?”

Tears blurred his vision as he worked, his hands trembling. He couldn’t lose her.

“Hold on for me, okay? Just hold on.”

He grabbed his phone with his free hand, calling Sam.

“I need help. Now,” he barked into the phone, rattling off their location.

The minutes stretched into an eternity as Bucky carried Y/N from her room to the medical wing. His steps were quick but measured, careful not to jostle her more than necessary. Her head lolled against his shoulder, and her breathing was so faint it was barely perceptible.

“Stay with me, Doll,” he muttered under his breath, his voice thick with fear. “You don’t get to do this to me. You hear me?”

He reached the med bay just as Sam burst through the door, his expression shifting from confusion to horror in an instant.

“What happened?” Sam demanded, rushing to help as Bucky laid Y/N gently on the exam table.

“She hid it,” Bucky growled, his jaw clenched. “She got hurt on the mission and didn’t say a damn thing.”

Sam swore under his breath, grabbing gloves and supplies. “Alright, let’s stop the bleeding first. Get me that gauze!”

Bucky moved without thinking, his hands steady even though his mind was a storm of panic. He handed Sam what he needed, stepping back only when absolutely necessary.

As Sam worked, Bucky’s eyes never left Y/N’s face. Her lips moved weakly, forming words he couldn’t quite hear.

“Doll?” He leaned closer, his metal hand brushing against hers. “I’m right here.”

Her eyelids fluttered open just a fraction, and she looked at him through the haze of pain. “Bucky... I’m sorry.”

His chest tightened painfully. “No, don’t you dare apologize. Just focus on staying awake, okay? You can yell at me later if you want, but you’re not leaving me. Not like this.”

Hours passed before Sam finally turned to him with a relieved sigh. “She’ll be okay,” he said, clapping a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “She lost a lot of blood, but we got it under control. She just needs rest.”

Bucky nodded, the tension in his body easing only slightly. He sank into the chair beside Y/N’s bed, his elbows resting on his knees as he dropped his head into his hands.

Guilt gnawed at him like a living thing. How hadn’t he noticed sooner? He’d seen the way she limped, the way she avoided his gaze. He should have pushed harder, should have made her tell him the truth.

“Bucky.”

Her voice was hoarse, but it snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked up to see her eyes open, glassy but focused on him.

“You’re awake,” he breathed, his relief palpable. He reached for her hand, holding it gently between his own.

She smiled weakly. “You look terrible.”

A choked laugh escaped him, half amusement, half tears. “You’re one to talk, Doll. Scared the hell out of me.”

Her smile faded as her gaze dropped to their intertwined hands. “I didn’t want to worry you. Or the team.”

“Worry me?” His voice rose, but he quickly softened it when she flinched. “Y/N, you almost died. Do you have any idea what that would’ve done to me?”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she turned her head away. “I didn’t want to be a burden.”

Bucky’s heart broke at the words. He cupped her face gently, turning her to look at him.

“You could never be a burden,” he said firmly. “You’re my world, Doll. I need you to promise me something—no more hiding. No matter how bad it is, you tell me. Okay?”

Her tears spilled over as she nodded. “Okay.”

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

The following days were a blur of soft words and quiet moments. Bucky barely left Y/N’s side, fussing over her despite her protests.

“Bucky, I’m fine,” she insisted as he hovered, adjusting the pillows around her for the third time that day.

“Humor me,” he said with a small smile, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead.

Y/N sighed, but the soft smile tugging at her lips betrayed her protests. “You’re hovering, you know that?” she teased, though her voice was still a little raspy.

“Damn right I’m hovering,” he shot back, brushing a stray strand of hair from her forehead. “I almost lost you, Doll. I’m entitled to a little hovering.”

She tilted her head, her eyes softening as she studied him. The crease between his brows hadn’t quite smoothed out, and there was still a flicker of worry in his blue eyes. “You look more stressed than I do,” she murmured.

“Well, you gave me a few new gray hairs,” he quipped, though his smile widened.

Y/N reached up, resting her hand against his cheek. “I’m okay, Buck. You don’t have to keep treating me like I’m made of glass.”

His gaze softened, and he leaned into her touch. “You’re not made of glass, but you’re my Doll. And I don’t care how strong you are—I’m always gonna take care of you.”

The words hung between them, warm and reassuring. Y/N chuckled, her voice light but affectionate. “Guess I can’t argue with that.”

“That’s right,” he said, his tone mock-stern. “Now, lay back and let me spoil you a little. I’ll even make you soup later—though I make no promises it’ll taste like Sam’s.”

She laughed, a sound that made his chest ache in the best way. “If it’s terrible, I’ll let you know,” she teased.

Bucky’s lips twitched into a grin as he leaned down to kiss her forehead again, lingering just a moment longer this time. “You’d better,” he murmured. “Wouldn’t want you hiding anything from me ever again.”

Y/N nodded, her smile softening. “No more hiding. I promise.”

“Good,” he said, pulling the blanket up around her shoulders. “Now, get some rest, Kitten. You’ve got a whole lot of recovery ahead, and I’m not letting you skip a single step.”

Her eyes fluttered closed, a contented sigh escaping her lips. For the first time in days, the weight of guilt and worry lifted, replaced by a warm, comforting certainty. With Bucky beside her, she knew she’d be

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

As she recovered, the weight of what happened began to lift, replaced by something lighter, something hopeful.

One evening, as they sat curled up on the couch, Y/N rested her head on Bucky’s shoulder.

“I don’t deserve you,” she murmured, her voice tinged with emotion.

Bucky wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer. “You deserve the world, Doll. And I’m gonna spend all of my life proving it to you.”

——————————————————————————————————

Hi anonymous reader! I found this really interesting to write because I have a Bucky playlist (Yes, I’m that obsessed) and this song is on it! So, I hope you think this captured the vibe like I thought it did, and enjoy. 🫶

Requests Open!

#bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #marvel #bucky fluff #bucky angst

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itsscromp · 9 months ago

Text

5 months

A story inspired by this TikTok I hope you all enjoy 😊😊 word count:1.2k

Simon woke up to the all to familiar bright lights and beeping sounds of the hospital. He groaned in pain as he felt like he couldn't move. Thankfully he was spared as you were there to dim the lights after seeing him awake.

"Hey buddy... How are you feeling ??" You asked, To which he replied to a dry cough, water please.

You gently handed him the cup of water and placed the straw into his mouth, Taking a few sips. "What... Happened ??" He asked.

You looked down for a little bit and sighed. "The entire building was rigged with explosives, We began to run out before i found out you weren't behind me. Me and soap began to move the rubble that was in the explosives... and well" You looked over at his badly broken body. Both legs were broken, One arm was broken and 5 cracked ribs.

"The doctor said you won't be back on your feet for a least 3 months"

"Fucking hell..." He sighed.

Regardless, you were happy to keep him company and help him whenever you could. 3 months came by and he was finally free of those damned casts. He could be able to move freely.

But one night, upon closer inspection when he got out of the shower. He lost a lot of muscle, and seemed to gain a little bit of weight too... "This cannot get any worse" He started to tear up, He was already self conscious about his body as it is, this was just almost insult to injury.

He tried to shrug it off for the next week, trying to squeeze in any workouts as he could. But every time someone walks past him, he would always get some form of comment. "Nice tits lieutenant" "Need a training bra ??" "Give us one squeeze please ??" He had to fight every instinct to not throw a weight at there heads... But they were right.

He stood there in his room, looking at his worthless body, His abs weren't as defined anymore. His pecs could hardly be called pecs. His biceps seemed to almost have deflated. Not to mention the pudgy sides around his waist seem to top over. As he started to tear up again, He began to repeatedly smash the mirror in front of him. he hated seeing himself like this. He did with a fucking passion.

You heard the smashed glass and rushed toward his room, Trying your best to pull him away. "Easy easy !!"

"Get off of me !!" He cried out.

"Simon relax, relax... It's just me" You gently took his hands and squeezed them gently. Looking at him in the eyes.

You could see the anger, sadness and insecurity the had, He has already been through a lot and this... This just fucking hurt him.

"Come here, let me have a look" You gently took his hand and inspected it, Just grazes, not deep cuts. So you went and got the first aid kit.

As you treated his wound, he looked down at the floor, seeing the tears fall down. "I fucking hate myself..."

"Simon... Please don't say that" You finished wrapping has bandages and looked at him.

"I do, y/n... Look at me... I'm not what I am" He started to cry a tad bit heavier.

You gently wrapped your arms around him, you knew this was hurting him badly, you didn't want to see him hurt. So later that night, you began to figure out a workout routine. One that was while excruciating, you knew this would get him back to what he once was.

The following morning, you burst into his room, blowing a whistle, and making him jolt awake. "What are we still doing sleeping around lieutenant !! Gym gear on and meet me in the gym !!" You did your best coach voice and urged him out.

Simon was a tad bit shocked when he saw you, But regardless he got his gym clothes on and soon followed you. You had set everything up. Weights, cardio, courses, and protein shakes. "For our warm up I want you to do 30 push ups"

"Y/n..."

"Don't talk back, Don't give up come on let's go !!"

He knew you meant well as he did his 30 pushups. Today you were his best friend and now his coach, You had him do a lot of things. But when it came to rest period, you brought him over to the mirror.

"I want you to take your shirt off"

He froze as you said that, But you gave him reassuring eyes knowing that it was just you two, He trusted you... So slowly he took off his shirt, He looked away from the mirror once he saw his pudgy stomach. But you gently went up to him. "You know what I see Simon ??"

He kept his eyes away from the mirror but turned to look at you, Giving you a soft look. "I see... Someone who has worked really hard today. Someone who is the strongest being that I have come to know and love. Someone who I know will work hard to see himself again. It will take time, But I know you got this Simon. Just don't beat yourself up... I know this"

You struggled for a while on your body and how you looked as well, You didn't want to see Simon sad and angry at himself.

"Yeah... Ok"

After the gym session, he went back to his room and saw that the mirror had been replaced, he didn't think much to begin with, But he took your advice in hand and went over to it. Taking his shirt off again, this time looking at himself, while yes it will be hard... "I can do this, I can... It'll take time" He said as he gently rubbed his stomach and patted it.

The training sessions continued and got harder, But you helped push Simon to his limit and to the point where he didn't know he was capable of, Downing every protein bar or shake he could, and making sure he looked at himself in the mirror after every session, to learn to love the body that he is in.

5 months later.

Simon wiped his sweat as he placed down the weights, It was hard, excruciating, and sometimes even painful, But it was all worth it, he began to workout shirtless again like he used to. Walking to the mirror with the upmost confidence, looking at himself, and flexing his biceps, he saw the snake-like veins had come back. His manly pecs have sprung back to life, he smirked as he began to pop his pecs, his Terry crews vibes were you could say... "Popping off" and his 6-pack abs have been upgraded to an 8-pack. But the smallest difference is there was the tiniest amount of pudge on his sides. but he could let that slide, all he knew was that he was happy with the way he was.

You walked into the gym and saw him looking at himself, all happy. "I knew you could do it" You smiled up at him.

"No thanks to you sergeant" He smiled and ruffled your hair, he was super thankful for you, his best friend and coach. He wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tightly. "Ok muscles don't crush me" You chuckled as did he.

Simon worked his ass off for 5 months, and it paid off big time. All thanks to you.

Taglist: @callofdudes

#platonic #reader insert #simon ghost riley #call of duty #call of duty x reader #call of duty imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost imagine #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you

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slayagami · 2 years ago

Text

wedding day with izuku, katsuki, & shoto !

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° m.list ! ┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° mha m.list ! ┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° enjoy !

i. midoriya

ִֶ𓂃⊹ ִֶָ izuku 100% could not sleep the night before

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ would arrive to the venue with you extra early to help decorate and prepare

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ his groomsmen were bakugo, todoroki, shinsou, and iida

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ best man was def todoroki

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ he got ready with his groomsmen, ranting anxiously to ida and shinsou, hoping that the wedding today would go to plan and be everything you wished for

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ right before the ceremony, he stood tall and proud with his back towards you, hands fumbling as he waited for the reveal. you stood behind him, wedding dress shining under the natural sunlight and giving you an ethereal glow

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ you patted his shoulder, giving him the 'ok' to turn around. nervously, he spun his body and locked eyes with yours, green orbs tracing your face that wore natural makeup, down to the beautiful dress you picked months prior after your engagement

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ his eyes grew teary, hugging you tightly and crying into the crook of your neck. hands glided down your back, feeling the silky material, mumbling how gorgeous you looked and how lucky he was to be marrying you today

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ your eyes watered, hugging your soon-to-be husband back and a hand to trace his fluffy locks. you kissed the side of his head, pulling him to look at you. your hand caressed his face, smiling stupidly in love

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ izuku wore a dark green tuxedo. it was almost black in normal lighting, but once the sun engulfed his figure, the tuxedo shone in a marvelous dark green, almost emerald color that brought out his features. his broach on his chest was a pink carnation, and his pin to his tie was silver.

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ he looked so handsome to you, your heart growing warm and in awe. your sweet boy, was finally going to be (officially) the love of your life. through thick and thin, hell and back, in sickness and in health, life and death. your last name was now going to be midoriya

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ not far off, the groomsmen and bridesmaids watched from a distance, taking pictures and videos, bottom lips puckered out from the cute scene

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ you both read your vows in secret, saving you both the tears from your conjoined family and friends in the room. with the say from the marriage officiant, you both shared your kiss as people cheered and cried, clapping to celebrate

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ your first dance was to 'make you feel my love' by adele, you both singing to each other like you were the only ones in the room, crying softly in the lyrics

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ ‘i could hold you for a million years, to make you feel my love’

k. bakugo

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ katsuki is the type to keep a calm face but be so fucking anxious on the inside

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ constantly checks himself out in the mirror to make sure nothing is out of place, black suit hugging his broad shoulders and small waist nicely

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ his groomsmen consists of kirishima as his best man (obviously), kaminari, and sero. maybe midoriya, if it was later in the years and he actually came to terms with him, but i don’t think he would go out of his way and ask

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ he promised he wouldn’t cry, not wanting to be embarrassed in front of quite literally everyone.. but as soon as your song queued the moment you walked in, wedding dress enveloping you in a warm hug with a bright smile on your face, his eyes immediately glossed over

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ of course, he’d try to blink them away and use this time that all eyes were on you to be rid of his water works.

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ his voice was shaky saying the ‘i do’s, but nobody else could tell besides you. i mean, he is your husband (finally)

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ kissing in front of the venue was the least of his worries, he could kiss you all day if he wanted, no matter who was looking. definitely held your waist tightly and pulled you to him, a passionate yet loving kiss being shared between the two of you

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ your first dance was to ‘the only exception’ by paramore, one of the first intimate songs that played in the car at midnight after your date in high school, feeling a strong hold and connection to this song

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ he held you close, swaying to the song with his face in your shoulder, humming softly along the words with you. tears slowly streamed from your face, while a huge and dorky smile was on his. though, he used your shoulder to cover it from his friends ad family, leaving it only for you to see

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ you both had your fair share with love problems. you felt used by others and unappreciated, choosing that being alone was better than trying so hard at love when it never worked

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ and bakugo’s young childhood never gave him the correct sense of love, only deprivation of it. he swore he didnt need to be loved, that he was all he needed

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ until your second year at u.a. when you were paired for a class project, slowly falling into each other’s presence and being. until the trips to his house lasted long after the project, becoming familiar with his family

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ you allowed yourself to try and be loved again, knowing full well that this would be katsuki’s first time, and might not know how he’d react in the long run. but loving him was too easy not to try

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ he tried hard for you. never raising his voice, refusing to let you open any door, bringing you food when he cooked or leftovers he knew you loved. he’d walk you to school, and walk you home, 100% attentive.

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ sure, some acts took longer than others, but you never pushed him to do those things. they were all his choice, his timing, when he was ready and wanted to do so

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ your wedding cake was non-traditional, and you both opted for cake pop to pass around, putting one in each others mouth

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ ‘you are the only exception’

s. todoroki

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ another ‘calm face, malfunctioning brain’ type of guy

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ wore a plain white tuxedo, his undershirt a wine red. his flower combination on his chest being a red and white dahlia

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ his groomsmen were midoriya, kirishima, iida, bakugo, and kaminari

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ almost didn't invite his dad, though you persuaded him to let endeavor come anyways

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ as you walked into the venue, his eyes never left yours. walking down the aisle make him smile warmly, sporadic heart calming down. it felt to him like you two were the only ones on the planet

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ he held yours hands at the front, repeating back whatever the minister had said, thumbs running across your knuckles to calm your nerves

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ a little.. a LOT embarrassed to kiss you in front of everyone, moving to stand in front of you and block the view (except from the bridesmaids and groomsmen)

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ cheeks were flushed pink as you shared your vows in private, tears flowing down on your end. he held your ands lovingly and kissed your temple, reading his to you with a wobble in his voice

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ your first dance was to ‘merry-go-round of life’ from howl’s moving castle. a movie you both favorited. the same movie from your first date where you both laid in the same bed watching from your room

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ you two ball-room danced, smiling at each other like fools at the different music choice that held so much emotion and memories

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ he refused to leave your side the whole night, holding your hands wherever you went and telling you (whispering) how much he loved you

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ he reminded you how gorgeous you looked, eyes never leaving your figure in your dress. he was in complete awe, jokingly asking you to wear it everyday from now on

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ your wedding bands were luxury diamonds custom made, a pink diamonds heart in the center with his silver band matching and complimenting yours (the inside was engraved with your marriage date)

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ your wedding cake is a red velvet cake with white frosting, a cute mini-figure of the two of you at the top and faux flowers at the base

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ shoto dances with his mother in a mother-son dance

#my hero fanfic #my hero academia #todoroki x reader #shoto x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki #izuku midoriya #izuku x reader #Midoriya x reader #izuku fluff #bakugo fluff #todoroki fluff #x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia x reader #marriage au #tododekubaku

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kechiwrites · 1 year ago

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tepid

nanami kento x reader! kinktober countdown day 7 (b d s m)

synopsis: “I’m looking for someone to give me control.” He expects his statement to draw some sort of response out of you, but your face remains placid and cool, the only hint that he’s said anything, the gentle upcurve at the corner of your lips. Kento finds himself wanting to muss up your curated exterior, wants to crush that tepid facade under the rough surface of his fingers.

wc: 2.8k

cw: fem + afab!reader but no gendered language, bdsm + D/s dynamics, sex worker!reader, salary man!kento, angst, potentially unrequited love, mentions of unprotected sex, begging, oral sex (m!receiving), jealousy, bondage, brat-taming, toys, mdni.

author's note: FINALLY DONE. JESUS. writing/doing research for medic reader x ghost, then touched starved konig, really impressed on me how powerful saying a man’s name can be. they love that shit. thank you to kitten for proofing and to ketsl + kee for helping originate this story and giving me tiktoks as fuel.

The waitress places a teacup in front of you, plain white, with a matching saucer. The steam of which coils upwards and dissipates before it can graze your chin. Your posture is upright, but not rigid and Kento finds himself correcting his slouch to mirror you. Your ‘thank you’ to her is accompanied with a blindingly bright smile, visibly jarring the waitress, who must face the gruff, deep terseness of truckers all day. She smiles back, turning and retreating with a lighter step than when she came.

Your grin tapers down to a lukewarm smile when you face him again, and it makes Kento ache, though for what, he’s not quite sure. “I think we should start with what you’re looking for, Nanami.”

Your words from the week before ring in his mind;

He brought his champagne flute to yours, eyes twinkling under the ballroom’s low lighting. The blue of your dress is nearly black, and it wraps your figure perfectly, cresting over hip and thigh as though it was made for you. Hell, with the average tax bracket of the guests surrounding the two of you, it could’ve been.

“And what is it you do?” his question seems to startle you for a moment, and your eyes swing to the side of him, looking for your date, he presumes. Quickly, however, you school your features into a warm kind of indifference.

“There are people who need to cede their control, to relax. And people who want control ceded to them by someone. I’m that someone.” You bring your glass to your bottom lip, drinking deeply, to avoid further explanation, or to buy yourself time, Kento isn’t sure. Still, the realization of what you mean, what your career is, and potentially why you’re here, sends a tingle down his spine, curls warm and heavy in his stomach. Urges him to take your business card when it’s offered, and make the arrangements to meet with you a week later.

“I’m looking for someone to give me control.” He expects his statement to draw some sort of response out of you, but your face remains placid and cool, the only hint that he’s said anything, the gentle upcurve at the corner of your lips. Kento finds himself wanting to muss up your curated exterior, wants to crush that tepid facade under the rough surface of his fingers.

“I’m sure I can help you with that.”

He settles for tearing at the napkin under his coffee mug.

✧

When you meet again, it’s to discuss your terms. Time with you costs a pretty penny and if Kento was so dead set on what he had pitched in the diner, he was looking at a very extended payment plan.

He drags his spoon across the bottom of his coffee cup, stirring at the remaining sugar, unmelted at the bottom. He’d added it too late. He hates that.

“How long will you need me, Kento?” You ask. You keep saying his name, over and over.

“Do you frequent this place often, Kento?”

“Have you done this before, Kento?”

“Do you know what you want, Kento?”

It drives him crazy, gives him this frantic itch at the back of his knee so bad that it makes him jostle the limb, like he’s a dog, eager for a treat. For attention.

It’s that itch that keeps him from saying “forever”. From insisting on something he just knows you can’t give.

“Three months. I want three months. Not everyday, just-”

“Regularly.“ you cut him off. “I understand, Kento.” Your smile is so sweet. Unmelted crystals of sugar, smeared between your nose and chin.

“No one else.” He mutters, chin tucked to his chest, gaze snagged on the candy red linoleum, where he rereads the same scratched in message.

‘thee hotties were here.’

It forces an exhale out of his nose, and when he can finally bring himself to stare at you, he’s relieved to see the smile you gave the waitress. But this time, it’s for him.

“No one else.” You agree. And Kento feels like he’s breathing for the first time since he sat down.

✧

“So…” Kento tests one of the straps holding your limbs in place. It’s thick, dark, leather, the expensive kind you have to order from a specialty shop in Amsterdam.

“So…” you respond, and you’re on your knees, nearly naked, at the foot of the lush, grand hotel bed (neutral ground, you’d said) and Kento is above you, standing, not naked. But you have the power here, you’re the one with experience, with stories, with the do’s and the don’t’s, and the not ever’s, not even once.

It’s not quite what he envisioned, and it’s nothing like the porn he watched. But you with that wide belt around your waist? With matching cuffs attached, cuffs that he helped you put your ankles into, that he secured the buckles for? It’s better. Better than the wet dreams and the research and the tight fist around the base of his cock the day after you first spoke in the diner.

He crosses his arms and just stares, eating up the visual.

“What?” You ask, wetting your bottom lip with your tongue. “You don’t like attitude?”

And he doesn’t know what he likes. But he knows he wants to learn.

You start slow, taking him through the motions, explaining what exactly you have experience with, what both of your limits are, what his safe word should be, what he wants out of this.

And then, after all the discussion is said and done, he fucks your throat on and off for an hour.

After session one, you and Kento decide on twice a week.

✧

It turns out, Kento does not like “attitude”. But he does like reform. Likes for you to start sessions with a foul mouth, with rolling eyes and put upon sighs and ribs about him being an old man. Then he likes to fuck it out of you. Overwork your body until the only thing you can do is tremble underneath his palms. He likes to use his knee to press a wand to your clit until you soak the thigh of his dress pants, then he likes to up the setting from two to four and watch your chest cave in on itself.

He likes to guide your limbs into a spreader bar and slide his tongue from the cleft of your ass to your clit. Adores watching you count the strokes of his dick inside you when your bent in half so he can fuck you in a mating press.

Kento likes the way your skin looks against shiny black leather and pristine white bed sheets. He likes how you look in lacey lilac lingerie with his favourite tie stuffed in your mouth.

But above all, Kento loves how you look with his hands on you, on your throat, across your back, guiding your head down, or your hips up. His fingers inside you, his palm wrapped around your wrists, his forearms holding up your thighs.

You make the dwindling amount in his savings worth it.

You make his nights seem less lonely.

You give him something to look forward to.

✧

It’s nearly a month into your arrangement. Nine sessions, nine nights in the same hotel room, or one that looks exactly like it. Nine meetings in the lobby, nine instances of you looping your arm around Kento’s and walking together to the front desk, then to the elevators. Nine times Kento has peered over your shoulder and into the large leather purse you bring with you every time, eager to see what you’ve planned for him today. It’s always a surprise, unless he’s looked something up and texted it to you, or gotten something express shipped.

But this time, the tenth time, things are different. This time he meets you at the station by his apartment, at 6 PM on the dot. This time when you walk arm in arm, he gets eight glorious minutes of it. This time, he doesn’t have to check in with the front desk receptionist with the icy eyes and disingenuous smile who always seems to be working when Kento rents a room.

This time, you've both taken adequate measures, sharing clear bills of health and a firm set of boundaries, everything in place for Kento to forgo condoms for the first time. The hotel you regularly use for your sessions just didn’t seem concrete enough, felt hopelessly sterile, anonymous. And Kento likes to think you like him just a little bit more than your average hotel room client.

He has to think that way, or he’d never have the courage to see you again.

So at his behest, you’re in his space, in his drab beige and white apartment and he can hardly believe it. You drape your jacket over the back of one of his unremarkable dining chairs, and the sleek brown leather simultaneously blends in and stands out, he eyeballs it, while you look around, hears you comment on the amount of books he has everywhere, but he can’t respond, can’t part his gaze from the indelible foreignness of your things in his home. And when you catch him staring at the coat before he can casually look away, you fret aloud.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Kento. Should I have hung it up?” He watches you frown, your eyebrows coming together, separated by a miniscule wrinkle. He’s never seen that expression on you before.

He shakes his head, head already in a daze. You’re a worrier. You wring your hands.

He hadn’t known that.

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he gets closer, tears his eyes from your clothing and approaches. Instead of assuring you he doesn’t mind, could not care less, the salaryman puts his hands on you, watches you sink into familiar territory, watches your eyes darken and your lips part and Kento Nanami nearly preens when you shiver.

“I’ll feed you.” He speaks softly, and he kisses you. Then quickly amends; “After.”

And it might be too much. Too intimate, to share a meal after you let him smack you across the face, and wrap his hand around your throat, and press his thumb over your tongue and fuck you unprotected.

But he doesn’t care.

And neither, it seems, do you.

“After.” You repeat. “Sounds good.”

And you smile.

✧

Three days after his tenth session with you, he sees you, outside, in regular clothing, not a ball gown or lingerie or nothing at all, but in a black t-shirt and baggy, soft looking jeans, and you’re blinking and smiling and laughing with some man. You’re in a coffee shop across from his workplace, and he can see you from his office’s window. (They’re small time, only on the second floor of a mega-corporation building, and up until that very moment, he had liked being able to see other people from his cubicle).

The man gets up, and Kento hopes he stumbles into the street and gets hit by a car, not hard enough to kill him, but hard enough that he can’t leave the hospital for a few days.

He returns shortly, with a drink for you, in a large white to-go cup. You don’t ask him anything. Don’t check the cup for details, you just take a sip and smile, slow and satisfied.

Kento blows out a large breath, turns to his desk and fishes out a small, amber pill bottle boasting the illegible, worn-down name of a medication ending in -loft or -pril or -pene. He tips it directly into his mouth, crunching down on two pills before he chucks the bottle across the room.

Kento doesn’t know how you take your coffee. If you even drink it at all. You had tea at the diner, and he was so busy with his own drink, with his own neurosis, he doesn’t remember what you added.

He calls you. Watches you pick up the phone and excuse yourself to the street outside.

Now, you meet four times a week. He starts doing overtime again.

✧

“Say it.” All the lights are off in your bedroom, save a salt lamp glowing pink on your end table in the corner. It hadn’t stopped Kento from eating up every detail of how you lived with his eyes. He saw the few pieces of underwear you’d shoved under your bed. The one pot of soup? Pasta sauce? You’d left unwashed on your stovetop. The framed picture of you and your mother or aunt or older cousin on your overstuffed dresser.

It had to be one of those. The resemblance was undeniable.

“Please.” You gasp, and wrench up off your bed, trying in vain to fight against the thick leather restraints keeping you spread eagle before him. The rabbit vibrator inside is blush pink and vibrating at full speed so deep inside you, twisted so it won’t touch your clit.

“You’re better than that, you beg better than that. Don’t make me drag it out of you. Beg. Me.” Kento can hear himself, can hear just how untethered, frayed he sounds. Every downward strike of his hand against your inner thighs is accompanied by a flash of you sipping from that godforsaken off-white coffee cup and smiling like the man from the coffee shop understands you, warm, comfortable.

Does he know who the woman in the photo with you is?

“Ken, Sir. Please, please let me come. I’m sorry for being a brat. Please.”

“Who gives you what you need?” He crouches down, sliding a finger along the straining line of your throat. Your lips are slick with your own spit, he’d enjoyed the gag for a bit, but your voice desperately warbling his name would always be better than the visual stimulation. Tear tracks have dried at the corners of your eyes, remnants of the first orgasm he’d ruined for you.

You are so goddamn pretty.

“You do.” You hiss, body arched and shaking, as if you could move the vibrator yourself if you fidgeted enough. He could hear how wet you were, could see beads of sweat pearl on your heated skin,

“Always?”

“Always.”

✧

Meals after, sometimes before, become a regular occurrence. Usually Kento cooks for you. Sometimes you cook for him. Once, and never again, you got to his place before him, hefting a paper bag of groceries he insisted on compensating you for. When you called him, he had only a few minutes left at work, and the station was so close. So he told you where he kept his extra key. Told you to let yourself in. And you had.

And when Kento got home, bone tired and overworked and wanting nothing more than to press his mouth to yours for hours, you welcomed him home. Eyes bright, smile hot and melting and so sincere.

And you had made dinner. For the both of you.

✧

“It was a pleasure serving you Kento.” You’re huddled in a winter coat, and briefly, Kento thinks about how fast the weather turned, how you chatted and teased and charmed a man that wasn’t him in a t-shirt two months ago, and now your arrangement with him is ending and you needed a scarf, and gloves.

“Mm. I enjoyed our time together.” He feels like a liar, feels like the pills he took before this weren’t enough, He can hear his blood roar in his ears. Cold bites through his coat. His nose is probably red. He hates that, reminds him of being a child, small and out of control and sniffling with a fever, at home, missing school.

Unmelted sugar in cooling barley tea.

“I…” You peter off, and frown. You stick your hands in your pocket and shrug. “Do you want to hug? I think we should…” You don’t finish that sentence either, you just open your arms at him and approach. Wrap your arms around him and squeeze. And Kento doesn’t like PDA, finds it uncomfortable and embarrassing, but he thinks if the two of you stayed on the sidewalk, hugging forever, that would be fine too. He wonders if the people sidestepping around you on the sidewalk think you’re a couple. Think you’re married.

He presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

He can smell your hair.

When you finally pull back, you stare at him, eyes wide, mouth tense. So he kisses your lips, and it’s obviously not the first time, he can kiss you whenever he wants, tilt your head back and slide his tongue into your eager, panting mouth when he fucking feels like it. Because he pays for it.

But he didn’t pay for this one. He drinks from your mouth again, once, twice, three times. Sucks and bites at the surface of your bottom lip and he would chew and swallow every bit of expensive Dutch leather you own to do it for the rest of his life.

✧

“Three more months,” he says, when you answer the phone two weeks later, and he can hear his own heartbeat when you don’t immediately respond.

“I-if you’re sure.” You answer, and it’s the first time you’ve deferred to him outside of play. Gave him an out. No sugar crystal smile in tepid coffee.

He wishes he could see your face.

“I’m sure.”

so...how are we holding up? :) find the rest of the masterlist here.

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trancylovecraft · 7 months ago

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(KNY) YANDERE PLATONIC! KOKUSHIBO x SISTER READER: You, Shibou. I, Kokoro (CHAPTER EIGHTEEN)

Previous Chapter ☆♡☆ Masterlist ☆♡☆ Next Chapter

AO3 link

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: "Where you go, I'm going."

Daimyo are feudal lords or magnates from ancient Japan. They ruled the majority of Japan through their hereditary land ownings, Being only subordinate to the Shogun and the Emperor.

The moon was held high in the sky, The lunar signalling midnight amongst the dark sea it hung on.

It filtered through the estate, Cracks in the pristine wood and the miniscule gaps in the windows. It was soft and sublime, A kind of light that chilled the skin in such a comforting way, A way where you just had to take a moment to take it all in.

It danced across his skin, Michikatsu's eyes shut gently as he slept quietly within his futon. The sliding window above him let the light through, Shining down onto his face as he breathed in and out.

It was the only thing illuminating the darkness of his room, The luminescence rolling off the silhouettes of what grandiose furniture was in his chambers. Mirrors, Storage units, Plants regularly watered by the servants. All of it was shrouded within darkness yet illuminated by the light just enough to make out the shape.

His eyes strained, Eyelids clenching together, However it was not due to the light.

A strange rocking sensation stirred him in his sleep, A gentle pressure on his side as he groaned softly in his sleep. He tried to shake it off as his mind was still enraptured within the thrall of his sleep, His breath only hitched for a moment before going back to its rhythm.

"Michi-nii..! Michi-nii..!"

A sort of shaky, Familiar voice called out to him in a hushed whisper. Michikatsu murmured something unintelligible through his sleep, The dark hair sprawled across his pillow and face only muddled his eyesight just a bit as he took a groggy peek.

His vision blurry, But he could make out the figure of his little sister shifting uncomfortably through the muddled darkness. He lazily lifted his head from the comfort of his pillow, Slightly shaking the hair out of his eyes.

"[F/N]..?" Michikatsu asked as he looked up at her, His vision dazed as he saw her look down at him with skittish eyes. She shifted in her oversized kimono robe she had most definetly just thrown on, Grasping onto the hems of her sleeves as she spoke.

"Michi-nii..! I'm sorry- Uhm.." She babbled slightly, Stumbling over her whispered words as she strayed her gaze away from him.

Michikatsu groaned as he propped himself up with one hand, The other moving to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

"[F/N]..? What's wrong, You know father wouldn't like it if he knew you were out here at night.." Michikatsu warned softly as he watched her try to gather her words, Remembering how their father was rather.. Adverse to his offspring wandering at night.

"I-I.. Uhm.. I had a nightmare." [F/N] admitted as she finally looked down at him, Almost expecting a sort of negative reaction from him. Like how their father often did. "It was scary.. I don't wanna be alone right now.."

"A nightmare..? What do you mean?" Michikatsu asked, Still half-asleep.

"I was being chased by a monster!" [F/N] hush whispered to him, Meek eyes staring down at him. "It was so big, It had so many eyes- I was running through a town with bright lights- I could hear it running behind me! It chased me for hours before it caught me- It hurt me- It dragged me away!"

Michikatsu listened onto her rather paranoid voice, Watch as her eyes darted back and forth for any sign of the monster throughout the darkness. He could tell she was terrified, Especially as she nudged closer towards him, Gripping onto the hems of her kimono sleeves.

"..I wanna sleep in here tonight, I don't wanna be alone." [F/N] begged quietly, Almost pleading as he looked into her eyes.

Michikatsu's lips thinned as he looked at her. In any other scenario he would have no problem saying yes to her, It was difficult to say no to begin with. But recalling the time she had been caught running around the garden late at night.

Their father called it unlady-like, Especially once he found her rather fancy kimono dirtied with muck. If her future suitors knew about her unfavourable behaviour..

It didn't end good, That was the understatement. Michikatsu couldn't tell if it was bravery or audacity that she was still okay with asking him again now. But it didn't matter. Michikatsu shook his head, Pushing himself up to a sitting position.

"[F/N].. You remember what happened last time father caught you in the garden? Who knows what he'll do if he finds you here.." Michikatsu sighed as he shook his head, Giving her a rather apologetic look.

[F/N]'s eyes widened, Stepping forward towards him.

"Please.. I'm scared, What if the monster in my nightmare comes back again?" [F/N] blurted out, Stamping her little foot slightly on the floor. "I couldn't help it, I don't wanna. It's so dark and quiet- I don't like it!"

Michikatsu opened his mouth to speak once more, However [F/N] beat him to it.

"Please, Michi-nii! I don't wanna be alone.." She begged, Her voice as quiet as mouse.

Michikatsu watched as her eyes pleaded with his, Feeling like his heart was being squeezed within his chest. There it was, The difficulty to say no. Michikatsu watched her lip tremble, The shake almost extending to the rest of her body as she feared leaving the room.

He knew it was for the best if he said no..

But he sighed, Almost in defeat.

"..Alright, Come here." Michikatsu said as he beckoned her forward, Pushing the sheets off off of his body as he shimmied to the side.

[F/N] beamed, Wide and bright in contrast the the dark of his room.

"Yay! Thank you, Michi-nii!" [F/N] cheered quietly as she excitedly lowered and sat herself down next to him on the futon. Michikatsu sighed as he pulled her closer, Watching her kick off her sandals to the side of the room as she happily rested her head down on the pillow.

Michikatsu breathed out a discontented sigh, But the small smile creeping up on his face couldn't be concealed.

"But you gotta leave in the morning, Okay? Father will be coming to collect me for training and he can't find you here." Michikatsu said as he laid back down onto his futon, [F/N] by his side who eagerly cuddled up to him when Michikatsu wrapped his arms around her.

She nodded before resting her head on his shoulder.

"That's fine.. As long as the monster doesn't get me, I'll be okay." [F/N] mumbled as Michikatsu pulled over the covers to get at ease himself, Nesting herself into the blankets comfortably.

"The monster isn't real, Don't worry.. And if it is- I promise I'll protect you, Okay? That's my job as the next head of this clan.. And as your brother." He assured as he rested his head on top of hers, Shutting his eyes.

[F/N] smiled quietly as her eyes shut as well, Getting comfortable as he held her closer to him. The night terror that had haunted her before became only an afterthought as she already felt at ease under the covers, Knowing that his words would be true.

She breathed out, Nesting further under the covers.

"Okay."

☆♡☆

Obanai Iguro had no idea why he was here.

He strode through the passage of some hallway in an admittedly cosy Inn, One in the middle of absolutely nowhere he recognised. It was safe to say he was irked, The slight narrow of his mismatched eyes shown that fact rather clearly.

Kaburamaru slithered loosely around his neck, Sensing his discomfort as he flicked his lounge in and out. Obanai sighed out through the bandages making up his mask, A slight scowl still on his face as he folded his arms.

He had been called by the crow to the village of Hiyohara, A small yet beautiful little township located near Fukushima. The scroll kept within the talons of the bird had detailed little as to why he was here, Only outlining that it was important and sent by the Insect Hashira of all people.

Kaburamaru would be pleased at least.

Obanai rolled his eyes as he remembered the little crush his beloved snake had on her, Nodding to a local as they passed him by on the hallway. The number listed should've been at the end of the hallway, Where he absentmindedly strode to.

As he drew nearer and nearer to the end, He could see the final oaken door within the rather quaint hall. Though as he stepped forward once more on the floorboards, Obanai listened closer.

Noises could be heard behind it, Chatter from several different voices to be precise. Some were soft and delicate, Others were rough and steady. Male and female, Obanai furrowed his brow as he had recognised a majority of the voices.

He stopped, Pausing in front of the door. Kaburamaru coiled just a bit tighter as they stilled to listen on.

His stomach churned as he raised a fist to greet the door.

"Iguro-san!"

Obanai eyes widened as the door was swung open before his knuckles could knock against the wood, His arm swiftly lunged back to his side as his body grew rigid. Once his eyes focused, Obanai felt his heart skip a beat.

Mitsuri Kanroji stood there, Her candy coloured kimono loose-fitting and draped around her body. Beautifully vivid hair was done up in a bun decorated with jewelled pins, And she was looking at him with her signature smile.

Obanai found himself shy, Eyes darting away from her.

"I didn't know you would be here.. It's nice to see you again, Kanroji-san." He muttered.

Though he gasped once he felt her arms throw themselves around him, Pulling him closer until his head was resting upon Mitsuri's shoulder. Obanai hitched a breath, Mitsuri grinning ear to ear as she felt his warmth against hers.

"It's amazing to see you too, Iguro-san! You know, I thought you wouldn't show up! You came pretty late compared to everyone else and I assumed you might not make it!" Mitsuri squealed as she hugged him tighter, Her head resting on his shoulder and vice versa.

"Uhm.. There were a few detours I had to take to get here, I got rather lost- I apologise"

It had only taken him a day to get here, Detours taken because the directions provided were rather vague. Hiyohara was a town he hadn't visited, Fukushima being a city where he barely tread in the first place as he usually operated in the south.

"Kyah~! Don't worry about it, You're here now!" Mitsuri assured as she pulled away from him, Leaving a sort of warmth that Obanai tried to burn into his memory. "Come in, Come in! Shinobu-chan can fill you in."

Mitsuri beckoned him forward with a call of her hand, Stepping back to allow him into the neat little room they were situated in. Obanai took her invitation as he wandered inside, The view of the room finally made available to him.

It was warm, Warm enough to feel through the fabric of his slayer uniform and striped black haori. It was also a rather homely set up with a few simple futons set off to the side and minimal furniture decorating the place.

There were several people he recognised here, Shinobu and Gyomei who sat conversing off to the side who called out a greeting once he walked in. And for some reason, There was a blonde haired girl who had her hands bound to her feet with bandages, Looking rather terrified with another bandage covering her mouth.

Before he could question the bizarre sight however, His eyes caught onto something else entirely. Obanai scowled, His eyes landing on a single group in particular.

"What is he doing here." Obanai hissed as he threw out an accusing finger towards a specific spot of the room, An instant jeer taking him over as he glared hot at the group across him.

Sat at the little table in the middle of the room was Tanjiro Kamado and his sister, Followed by Shinobu Kocho's Tsuguko, Kanao and Gyomei Himejima's Tsuguko, Shizuko sitting next to some Boar-headed kid. They seemed to be drinking some blend of tea they must've acquired from the village merchants, Their cups still mildly warm.

"Oh, Hello Iguro-sama!" Tanjiro waved as he saw Obanai enter inside, Nezuko followed suit, Eagerly waving her own silent greeting as she hummed through her bamboo muzzle. Obanai only shot daggers at him, His hand itching for his blade at the sight of the girl.

"Aha.. How about we move on?" Mitsuri giggled awkwardly as she urged Obanai along, Who continued to glare at the boy and his demon sister. Guiding him past the group, They made their way towards the other two Hashira in the room.

"Iguro-san! It's great to see that you've finally arrived, I assume there was some trouble getting here?" Shinobu asked with a smile as they approached, Kaburamaru perking up at the sight of the woman, Slithering just a bit further around Obanai's neck.

Ignoring his beloved snake, His eyes narrowed on Shinobu.

"Yes.. " Obanai drawled as he eyed her up and down. "Your directions were quite vague. And you failed to mention the prescence of that boy and his demon sister. What exactly is the meaning of this?"

Shinobu hummed, A rather small and placid smile appearing on her face as he asked his question. Tilting her head to the side, She spoke.

"Aha.. I see you're still sour about a demon being in the corps, Iguro-sama." Shinobu observed as she saw his scowl. "The reason why your here on vague directions is for a mission, No need to worry!"

Obanai's face scrunched up for a second, Almost wanting to say something but instead rolled his eyes.

"..Whatever, And the girl over there? What is that about?" Obanai asked as he motioned towards the girl still tied up in the corner, Who this entire time had been making muffled pleas for help from behind the bandage covering her mouth.

"Maika Heihachiro.. One of our shrine maidens that somehow made her way here." Gyomei spoke up from beside Shinobu, Beads rattling in his hands. " An eavesdropper from what we can assume.. We caught this one listening outside the door."

"A shrine maiden, All the way out here?" Obanai 'hmphed' as he continued to look at her. Maika felt like a mouse once Kaburamaru took a rather distasteful interest in her, Hissing lowly under his breath.

Kaburamaru flaunted his fangs, Maika yelped once he near lunged towards her.

"Oh, How could I forget about you, Kaburamaru?" Shinobu giggled as her hand reached into the inside of her haori, Mitsuri and Obanai had to double take when she slipped out a little mouse from inside. Tail pinched carefully between her fingers.

"Do.. Do you keep them on you at all times?" Mitsuri gawked as she watched Kaburamaru's eyes light up, His attention drawn to the dead little mouse being lowered towards him eagerly.

"Oh, No! I just assumed my favourite serpent would want a snack after such a long journey, Doesn't he?" Shinobu cooed as she teased the mouse in front of Kaburamaru's jaw, Lowering so he could get a better grasp on the rodent.

Obanai groaned. His shoulders drooping once Kaburamaru excitedly latched onto the mouse, Shinobu letting go of the rodent to let him scarf it down almost ravenously.

"Can you stop feeding my snake, Kocho-san?" He groaned as Kaburamaru happily choked down the mouse, Shinobu not even turning to look at him as she focused her efforts on Kaburamaru.

"Aha.. Yes, I suppose we really should get down to business, Shouldn't we!" She giggled once Kaburamaru was done, Slithering back around Obanai's neck while affectionately looking at Shinobu.

She raised back up, Finally turning to look at Obanai.

"Now, Let's get to talking!"

☆♡☆

[F/N] breathed out, Feeling herself come into consciousness.

Her eyelids were heavy and she could feel the weight of her blanket cover her body. A pillow under her head, Another she hugged within her arms. [F/N] took a moment to gather herself, To bring herself back to reality.

Another sleep, Another vision.

This one was one of the unfamiliar ones, Not from her past. [F/N] could only assume that it would've been from her past life, No matter how ridiculous that sounded to anyone out of the loop.

[F/N] sighed.

Fuck, It still sounded ridiculous to her anyways.

It was still nothing, It was just another one out of the blue that meant nothing to her current situation. Apparently she had some nightmare as a child and had tried to find comfort in Kokushibo, Or perhaps it was more accurate to call him Michikatsu.

Michikatsu Tsugikuni, That was his name.

Tsugikuni, A neuron connecting in her brain.

Akeno Tsugikuni.

[F/N] had put down the journal once she had read that name yesterday. It was like a jolt to the heart once it came to her, Needing to fully put the diary down and gather her thoughts as to what she was reading.

Tsugikuni, That was the clan name that Kokushibo had provided on her very first day here. Proclaiming that Tsugikuni was her clan name too.

But who was Akeno?

Could she be a wife to another clansmen? Another sibling perhaps? A Mother maybe. [F/N] figured it was best that she'd find out during her next read, The read she was bound to get in once she finally pried herself out of bed.

[F/N] scrunched up her face. To be honest, She hadn't a clue about whatever family could've been in the Tsugikuni clan. She really didn't know anything about her so-called past life, And why Akeno's journal had suddenly appeared out of nowhere for her to read.

Currently it was lying amongst the cutlery on her bedside, [F/N] being too lazy to put it in with her rope and nails that Akaza had provided for her, Currently lying underneath her mattress. [F/N] deeming that it would be a good enough hiding place for her contraband to stay.

[F/N] stilled for a second.

She noticed something strange, Something weird in the room.

The frigid draft that usually flooded the room was so much more present than it was before, So much so that she could feel it even under the warmth of her covers. The ultramarine light that was usually outside seemed to enter in. Though she couldn't see, [F/N] could tell it was.. Much brighter than it was suppose to be.

CREAK!

Her breath hitched, Just for a moment.

Though it stilled just as fast, Returning back to a forced rhythm of pretend sleep. Up and down, She tried not to react to the depressing of the floorboards only a few feet away from her.

A sudden aura came to her, One that removed any remaining grogginess in her mind. It took everything in [F/N] to not reveal that she was awake, Not to gag or jolt at the mere presence.

Kokushibo.

He was here.

From what [F/N] could tell, He was only a few feet away from her at the other end of the room. She could already feel the burning pricks of his eyes look over her sleeping body, [F/N] trying not to shiver under that bloodcurdling gaze.

Calm yourself, [F/N].

She could feel his weight move forward, Another board creaked, A footstep placed in front of the previous.

How long had he been here? Had he just came in? [F/N] chided herself for being so caught up in her own head to ignore his presence entering the room. That foul aura, Toxic and rotten like spoiled milk and vulture chow.

It moved forward towards her, Even closer.

[F/N] listened as he began to draw near, Moving closer towards where she slept. She intently listened to every little creak of the floor, Felt that aura draw closer, Pungent and rotten.

All until that light was blocked out from what she could perceive through her eyelids.

Kokushibo standing right in front of her, Eclipsing the light.

The silence was so loud, So loud that it almost made [F/N] break the rhythm of her breath. [F/N] tried to keep up her sleeping façade, Pleading, Almost begging for him to do something to break that silence.

He was probably just here to drop off her breakfast- That was all- Everything would be-

[F/N] stilled.

What?

She almost needed to take a moment to process what was happening, Almost opened her eyes to confirm that what she was feeling.

A hand was touching her hair.

[F/N] felt Kokushibo cup his palm around her hair, His fingers somehow making their way into the strands of her hair to almost cradle the back of her head. [F/N] felt his icy cold grip like ice on her skin, So cold that the gelid ocean outside couldn't compete.

She heard him lower and a plate clatter settle down on her side table. His hand stroked her hair, Almost fondly, As if stroking the coat of a dog. She felt his clawed thumb rub circles into her skin, Gently and featherlight as if not to wake her.

She wanted to puke, Wanted to scream and shy away from his touch. [F/N] almost felt disgusted when she remembered she had to get closer to him.

Thankfully it was over in a minute, Feeling his hand leave the hair on her scalp and retract back to his side. He breathed out, Stepping back away from her only slightly as she continued to stare at her. Closer to him.

Kokushibo looked over her, Watching the sheets rise up and down in tandem with [F/N]'s breath. The platter of assorted Sashimi still laying within the cluster of bowls and plates piling up together.

He turned on his heel, Ready to exit the room like he had done everyday-

In a moment, A hand gripped onto arm.

A palm wrapping around his wrist made him still in place.

"Stay..!"

Kokushibo turned around, Eyes near bulging out of their sockets.

☆♡☆

"Master.. May I speak with you for a minute?"

Shizuko turned his head to look up at Gyomei, His master, Who overtime had made his way out of the group of other Hashira. Shinobu and Iguro seemed to be in rapt debate, Mitsuri scrambling with a nervous smile to try and calm the both of them down.

Gyomei had long abandoned trying to quell the situation, As it had proven fruitless. Obanai had grown rather understandably alarmed at the prospect of going behind Oyataka-sama's back, Decidingly getting mad about it.

Shinobu tried to calm him down along with Mitsuri, Their chatter going loud in the background as Shizuko and Gyomei stood off to the side. The other non-Hashira still conversing around the side table.

Gyomei rattled the beads snaked around his hand, Trying to shut out the differing conversations.

"I already am aware of what you wish to ask.. But please, Go ahead." Gyomei said as he heard Shizuko fold his arms next to him, Sensing his eyes narrow, A abased confusion dawning on him.

Shizuko sighed.

"Are we just not going to talk about a few days ago? You promised you would speak with me once we met again and here I am." He said, Gesturing to the whole of himself as he looked up at Gyomei. "So please, Master, Can you tell me what you know..?"

Gyomei's brows furrowed. Even though he already expected it, It was still a rather sour topic to him. When Shizuko came to him and had deduced that he, Gyomei, Had known something about the As much as he would like to tell him, It was not his story to say.

Gyomei sighed, Sad expression broadening further across his face. "No.. I cannot." He finalised as he turned towards his Tsuguko, His sorrowful expression sincere as he spoke.

Shizuko near scoffed, Almost in disbelief as he shook his head.

"Master-"

"Please.. Let me finish, Shizuko. I have my reasons for staying silent on this topic." Gyomei cut in with an assuring tone, A surprised expression flashing across Shizuko's face at his interruption.

"It is why I wished for you to be here instead of Genya, Or any other slayer.. I believe that going on this mission will do well for you"

"I still don't get it, Master." Shizuko exasperated, Shaking his head impatiently. "I've been wanting to know for years of my life who it was that held my hand, Why can't you just tell me..?"

Gyomei sighed as he listened to Shizuko's words, Knowing full well that this wasn't fair on him. Shizuko looked up at him and even though Gyomei was unable to see, He could feel the desperation within his eyes.

Gyomei's lips thinned, Brows knitting together as he tried to find the right words to say.

"Shizuko.. The reason I put our conversation off in the first place was because.. I am not the right person to have it with you." He explained slowly. "If I told you what I knew.. You would have much more questions than you would answers.. It would not be right."

"Then who is the right person?" Shizuko urged, Desperation in his voice as he stepped forward.

"Someone who will be able to explain it entirely to you." Gyomei, Unknowingly tuning into arguments only a bit away from the two of him. The higher pitched voice of Mitsuri Kanroji becoming much more prominent than it did before.

Gyomei sighed, Hearing as they continued to bicker.

Shizuko just stared at Gyomei, Desperation almost burning within his eyes. Without thought his hand trails up to his head, Fingers itching as they moved under his hair to graze over his scar, Almost begging to remember what he wanted to know.

His hand burned, The scar even more so.

"..I need to know." He whispered, More to himself now as his sight went unfocused. It was almost if he wasn't seeing what was in front of him now, Instead just a muddled memory kept locked inside his mind.

He was snapped out of it however. The wretched feeling of a hand rested on his shoulder, A horrid sensation yet more comforting than the others as he looked up.

Gyomei stared down at him, A small smile spread on his lips.

"I promise you, Shizuko.. You will know in time. Just please, Promise me you will be patient." He assured, His voice though mournful was warm enough to bring Shizuko back to reality if just for a moment.

Shizuko smiled back, Though it seemed awkward, Almost unfamiliar on his face.

"I promise. Thank you, Master." Shizuko replied, His body visibly relaxing as Gyomei's hand rested on his shoulder. Even though his touch repelled him just like the others, Shizuko could take comfort in the silence they shared, No more words needing to be spoken.

They shared a moment together, Simply like that. The sounds of argument in the background

"Mmph! Mmph!"

Both heads snapped down, Looking towards the blonde girl still restrained in the corner. It appeared that she had been here the entire time, A terrified expression still on her face as she pleaded with them to let her go through the bandage covering her mouth.

"Ah.. I had forgotten that she was there." Gyomei remarked as Maika struggled in the ropes, Trying but failing to get out.

Almost on cue, Inosuke kicked up at the other table. Yelling something with his voice sounding like pig-latin, Tanjiro and the others moving to pull him back into a more. Most definetly causing a disturbance throughout the entire inn.

Shizuko rolled his eyes.

"I should probably go deal with that.. Thank you anyways, Master." Shizuko shrugged as he pushed himself up from the wall, Smile dropping and returning to his signature Shooting Maika a glare that made a shiver run down her spine.

With that, He stalked off towards the table. Barking out a 'What are you idiots doing' as heads turned to look at him.

Gyomei shook his head as he watched Shizuko walk off, Forgetting his rather harsh tone when dealing with people.

"Hello, Gyomei-san!"

A voice called out from beside him, Happy and cheerful as he noticed it was Mitsuri. He realised that the bickering could no longer be heard in the background, With good reason hopefully, Mitsuri deciding to check-up on him afterwards.

He nodded, Turning towards her.

"Ah.. Kanroji-san. I hope Iguro-san has came around to the idea of infiltrating the cult.." Gyomei asked as she looked up at him with a rather relieved expression, Her smile widened, Just a little bit more awkwardly.

"Aha.. Took some convincing and some appealing to Kaburamaru, But he agreed to keep everything quiet eventually!" Mitsuri laughed as she scratched the back of her head, Recalling the efforts both her and Shinobu had to take to get Obanai on their side.

"And how are you doing?" Gyomei asked in return.

"Amazing now, Thanks! We finally got our business in order, So.. What's happening?" Mitsuri asked with a peppy smile as she looked up at the older man, An unknowing shine in her eyes as she looked up at him.

"Mmph! Mmph!"

Gyomei sighed as he heard Maika struggling once more.

Time to deal with this..

☆♡☆

[F/N] felt nervous.

She felt like a mouse in a trap, Caged within walls bigger than her with no way out. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that she felt like a mouse in a laboratory, Under dissection or observation from a scientist.

It would account for the staring, After all.

[F/N] sat upon her bed, Legs folded in a basket with a plate of sashimi nestled on her lap. Her eyes were focused entirely on the seafood, Smelling the saltwater still fresh on the fish and the soy sauce it was drenched in.

Within the darkness, Were three pairs of eyes staring dead at her.

[F/N] tried not to bring attention to it as she picked up another salmon slice from her platter, Bringing it up to her lips and half-heartedly nibbling on the salinic meat. The golden eyes like stars in the night burning into her skin.

She couldn't even see him from within the darkness, His body entirely consumed by the shadow. Only the spotlights of his eyes staring dead at her, Never leaving for a moment as he sat on his knees, Watching her eat the food he had prepared for her.

[F/N] placed the salmon slice into her mouth, Slowly chewing so the taste would ruminate on her tongue. Why she asked him to stay in the first place- She regretted even asking, Believing it to be a stupid move.

To get closer to him, That was her plan. The word 'Stay' just came out of her mouth without thought. It was almost as if second nature, Even though being around him was the last thing [F/N] wanted in the first place.

[F/N] wasn't quite sure where it came from, But didn't have any basis to find out either.

So she ate her meal, Quietly and without sound as Kokushibo sat knelt in the corner, Watching [F/N] like an insect on a dissecting table. All while she tried to come up with a game plan, To try and worm her way out of this situation.

That- Or try to make the most of it.

Get closer to him like she was suppose to, Take advantage of the situation and like she was suppose to.

Either way, This was a chance to try and get him to trust her more. Even though the words were caught in her throat, Even though she wanted to shrivel up into a corner and never come out- [F/N] needed to try.

Her lips thinned.

"..The journal, Did you put it on my nightstand?"

[F/N]'s voice rang out louder than it was spoken, Her eyes still focused on her food as she blurted out her words.

Kokushibo didn't stutter, Continuing to stare at her from within the shadows of the room. It was again silent, No word spoken. [F/N] swallowed, Almost expecting him to not answer at all.

"..Yes." Kokushibo rasped, His voice that same deep drone as it always was. [F/N] tried not to release a sigh from her lips, Instead keeping them thinned and pressed together as to not reveal her discomfort.

"I see.." She mumbled as she selected another slice of sashimi, A vibrant red tuna slice bound to make mouths water, That of which was proven once [F/N] placed it onto her tongue. "I was just wondering, That's all.."

Kokushibo hummed in acknowledgement as he watched her consume the meal he made. [F/N] didn't know why she felt the need to explain herself to him, Perhaps to confirm she was in his good graces?

She swallowed the tuna, The explanation more sour than her stomach right now.

"..No offense, Kokushibo-sama but.. Why?" [F/N] asked with a cautious tone. Eyes daring to take a peak at him before catching those angler eyes in her vision, Sight quickly moving back down to her food.

"A few months ago.. You had mentioned that your breathing style requires a calm mind.. I assumed that it might assist in that perspective. Reading and meditation were two activities you mentioned.." Kokushibo explained lowly.

[F/N] hummed as she bit into another tuna chunk.

"A diary is a strange choice for reading material.." She spoke through her chews, Poking at the rest of the fish.

Kokushibo didn't answer for a while after that, Letting the silence seep back in from the absense of conversation. [F/N] began to feel the cold of her sweat build up on her back once more, Breathing much more shallow.

Kokushibo's eyes narrowed on her, Watching as she shied her gaze away from him once more.

"..Instead of questioning me, How about you tell me why you asked me to be here..?" He asked slowly, Eyes focused much hotter on her before.

[F/N] froze slightly, Her movements paused just for a second.

There was the million dollar question, The one that she had dreaded coming out of his mouth. Even though she had been expecting it, It still made a pit form in her stomach like stones.

Though her mouth was dry, She began to speak.

"I.. I don't know, I guess I just wanted to have a conversation with someone. I haven't really been able to talk with anyone in months so.." [F/N] shrugged, Shaking her head as it was the best she could come up with.

"You have that boy, Kaigaku.. Despite his rather obvious shortcomings, He should provide enough social interaction for you.." Kokushibo countered, Recalling giving Kaigaku permission to speak with her, No matter how much he detested otherwise.

[F/N] could've almost laughed at how out of touch he was. Despite being a rather solidary person, Even she needed a bit of small talk from time to time and most definetly not with one person and one person alone.

It was almost funny how deluded he was.

Despite her cold humour in the situation, She kept her face still, Though she shook her head.

"I don't like Kaigaku.. It's nothing personal, He's just not good at holding a worthwhile conversation." [F/N] sighed, More in relief as it seems that Kaigaku didn't tell Kokushibo of what happened only yesterday.

Kokushibo's face sharpened at her words.

"And you assumed that I would want to speak with you instead..?" He asked with an apathetic yet brutal expression, Eyes digging into her skin. [F/N] felt herself supress a rather nasty scowl.

What the hell was his deal?

She was trying her best to be polite with him. Despite it all, How much she despised him to the very bone, How his presence even metres away made her want to puke. His aura was rotten, But she was trying her very best to endure it.

Even he, Kokushibo had specifically told her that he would be 'withholding affection' until she got out of her 'rebellious phase'. And she was doing just as he said, She wasn't throwing passive aggressive remarks. She even made the effort to talk to him like she was doing now, Even though it made bile rise in her throat.

So why the hell did he sound so unhappy to be here right now? In fact, [F/N] felt like he was acting much more opposed to her than he usually seemed to be. Could he be suspicious? Perhaps it was because it was still a very new change in her attitude, Maybe that was it..

But it didn't add up, Not at all.

"..You can just go, I don't mind being alone" [F/N] mumbled as she turned back towards her food, Gesturing towards the door with a shake of her head. "..Sorry for keeping you from whatever you do."

She was probably gonna go back to sleep again once he left anyways, At least until Akaza returned. She'd probably just have another vision. A nightmare, Perhaps. At least that would be able to take her mind off the one that she was currently living through.

Kokushibo breathed out, Once more.

Through the silence she could her the faint patter of his hand placing onto the ground. [F/N] listened as she heard the floorboards croak, Kokushibo pushing himself up to his full staggering height.

[F/N] sighed as she heard him stand up, Waiting for him to leave as she ate the remains of her sashimi. At least he wouldn't be bothering her anymore, Expecting the ultramarine shine of the light outside to hit her face any moment now.

[F/N] chewed on her salmon slice.

Her eyebrows furrowed.

She swallowed it, The taste lasting on her tongue.

She blinked, A few moments passing as she looked up to see what was wrong. That turquoise light didn't hit her face after the usual time it took to-

[F/N] felt her heart stop entirely.

He was standing right in front of her, Not even moving an inch as he imposed over her from where she sat. They were only a feet apart, His face steeled in that omnipresent scowl that looked [F/N] felt her sweat drop, Her heart stop entirely in her chest. His eyes narrowed.

"The diary.. Have you been reading it?" He asked in a gravelly pitch, Eyes not departing from hers as his hand reached over to pluck the book from her bedside. [F/N]'s throat felt dry, Feeling herself almost shrivel up inside.

She double-taked however, Shaking off her shock.

"Erm.. Yes." [F/N] breathed out as she watched him flick open the book, Flipping through the pages at a rapid rate until it reached the page where she dog-eared to mark her place. Eyes snapped over to the letters, Beginning to read.

She watched as he scanned the lines with a quick pace, Almost jumping out of her skin once his eyes snapped back over to her.

"You have gotten a fair bit into the journal.. A fast reader, I see.." What would sound like a compliment from any other lips sounded like an observation from him, The kind that would be noted down for a scientific thesis.

[F/N] nodded along, Not daring to speak.

"You are, However.. Only a fraction of the way through.." He continued as his eyes drew back to the book, Reading from where she had left off yesterday. [F/N] felt a question burn on the tip of her tongue. Her mouth opened.

"W-Who is Akeno..? The woman in the book?" [F/N] blurted out, Her eyes still shied away from his as he looked back at her. The words just flooded out of her mouth, Almost like a dam finally breaking down.

Kokushibo breathed out.

"Our mother." He spoke simply, Face not changing a single bit.

[F/N] took a moment to process before she nodded slowly. Strangely enough, Learning that the woman she had been reading about was her supposed mother was not something that brought out a reaction out of her.

Not a big one anyways. But [F/N] couldn't deny that she felt a bit.. Intrigued.

I mean, [F/N] didn't even like her actual mother. A bitter and foul woman. It was a celebration once she died, [F/N] might as well have played beer pong with the bucket that woman kicked.

So [F/N] felt curiosity build up in her.

Would Akeno be like that?

Kokushibo slammed the book shut with a single hand, Bringing [F/N] back to the current situation she was in as she jolted in surprise. His hand moved over, Setting the journal down on the bedside.

His eyes narrowed.

"You are.. Different." Kokushibo stated, Eyes running over her like she was nothing but a frog to be cut open. It was uncomfortable, Skin itching even as he seemed to examine every little blemish on her.

[F/N] averted her gaze back down to her tightly curled fists.

"What..?" She asked slowly, Puzzled by his words.

"It is strange, You do not act like you did before.. There is a rather stark difference, Much more.." Kokushibo trailed off, Eyes still trained intently on her as he paused in his speech. The room suddenly fell quiet once more-

Deathly so.

It felt like forever, As if time had decided to slow down just in this single moment. Her skin burned and blistered under his sight, And Kokushibo never strayed his vision away from her. [F/N] silently begged him to just finish what he wanted to say, To get it over with.

But his lips thinned, And [F/N] could feel the irritated tinge in his aura from miles away.

Kokushibo turned to leave, Not bothering to finish his sentence.

"Continue reading.. I will come back tomorrow to make sure you are.." He spoke as he began to leave, Slowly stalking off towards the door in the room. [F/N]'s lips thinned before they opened.

"Uhm.. What about training?" She asked, Gripping the platter between her hands just a little too tightly.

Kokushibo paused in his walk, But he didn't turn to look at her.

"Until you are confident you will be able to wield Soul Breathing.. You will spend your time focused on literature and other remedial activities.. " Kokushibo explained as [F/N] nodded slowly to his words.

"Kind of a lack of 'remedial activities' to do.. Maybe if the library was a bit more stocked up, I'd have at least something to occupy my time." She muttered more to herself than to him, Under her breath as her eyes wandered off somewhere else.

Kokushibo hummed, Acknowledging her remark before he turned on his heel once more and left. This time, [F/N] didn't stop him as he marched towards the door within the blinding darkness, Her eyes kept on his back at all times.

Pulling it open, He didn't look back at her as the light hit her face. Then it disappeared entirely, Along with Kokushibo's presence.

[F/N] gasped before she took the biggest breath of her entire life, The air finally ripening around her as his suffocating presence left her. That rotten aura like decaying cow carcasses in a field-

It was finally gone.

☆♡☆

"This is still a stupid plan, You should have told Oyataka-sama- You should've provided the information you got from your crow instead of going rogue and deciding to go on some death mission..!" Obanai hissed, Eyes hawked in on Shinobu with a rather menacing glare.

Shinobu didn't feel it a bit however, Not even bothering to shake it off as she smiled.

"No matter now, I suppose. You already agreed to go through with this 'stupid plan' and I don't take any second thoughts!" She hummed, Looking at them from the side as they stood off a bit away from the other groups.

"I'm only doing this because of her, You know my history associated with cults.." Obanai mumbled, His head tossed to the side with a rather sour expression on his face.

Shinobu smiled, Much more sly and knowing than it should've been as she looked Obanai up and down. There was a perfectly good reason why Shinobu had asked him here in particular, Her reasoning seemingly paying off as she watched Obanai almost ogle at Mitsuri who was currently chatting with Gyomei.

"Of course.. I didn't expect anything more." Shinobu remarked as she watched the two converse idly with each other, Both glancing down at the shrine maiden they had caught hours earlier, Still restrained. Shinobu sighed, Shaking her head.

"Ah.. I suppose we shouldn't keep everyone waiting any longer, Let's head off to the convent, Hm?" Shinobu proposed, Not waiting for his response as she stepped forward towards Gyomei and Mitsuri.

Obanai nodded, Following after her as they approached the other Hashira in conversation.

"The issue is.. I'm not quite sure what do to with her."

"Keeping her here sounds horrible though.. My heart hurts thinking about it!"

"Mmph!"

"Ah, I see that you're discussing what to do with the eavesdropper!" Shinobu chirped in as she peered in behind Gyomei's back, Glossy eyes resting upon the terrified shrine maiden who squeaked once Shinobu revealed herself.

"Ah.. Shinobu-san. We're not in agreement as what to do.." Gyomei states. "I suggest that we leave her here for the inns keeper to find while we leave.. Though on the other hand, Kanroji-san believes that would be inhumane.."

"Cause it is! Who knows how long she'd be here, What if the innkeeper doesn't even find her?" Mitsuri butted in as she gestured to Maika, A puzzled frown across her face.

Shinobu nodded.

"I see.. Well I was thinking of heading out soon, Since everyone's here now. So I would like it if you came to a decision soon enough!" She hummed with a smile as Obanai appeared from the other side of Gyomei.

He huffed.

"Though I dislike this plan altogether.. I would rather it go smoothly if I am meant to do it so.. I say we toss her in the near river with her hands and legs still tied."

"Iguro-san!"

"Mmph! Mmph!" Maika muffled out what sounded like hearty disagreement, Eyes bulging out of her sockets as she stared at Obanai like he was some kind of demon, Even more so when Kaburamaru began to hiss.

Shinobu sighed as she stepped forward, Kaburamaru snapping his jaw shut once he watched her approach Maika. Knees bending as she lowered before her.

With a smile, Shinobu ripped off the bandage covering Maika's mouth.

"Ah-!" Maika gasped for what seemed like the biggest breath she had ever taken. "P-Please don't kill me! I can explain why I was listening to you're conversation, I swear!"

"Then explain.." Gyomei said, Looking rather imposing to where the girl was sat on the floor.

"O-Okay.. Erm- Give me a second I.." Maika blinked, Trying to recompose herself. "I didn't come here to tell anyone about what you were doing.. I.. I actually came because I wanted to help."

"How can we tell that you're not lying to get out of a bad situation?" Obanai asked as his eyes narrowed on her.

Maika gulped.

"B-Because I wanna help [F/N]-sama. I overheard your conversation back at the butterfly mansion, About the plan to find out where she was. I.. I wanna help, [F/N]-sama was really kind to me and I feel bad.." She said, Her eyes shying away from the group and she stared to the floor, Still shaking.

She inhaled.

"I.. I feel like it's my fault that [F/N]-sama was kidnapped. She saw me during her fight with that demon and she held back so I wouldn't get hurt.. She made sure he wouldn't find me, Even after I was injured and I just don't think I could live with myself if she stayed missing.. "

"Even though I'm a shrine-maiden.. I'm also a licensed slayer.. S-So please! If it's not a bother.. Could I please go on this mission?" Maika asked just a little bit higher than before, Sweat rolling down her brow, The fear of being rejected burning through her body.

Her lip shook.

Ever since that day in the shrine, Ever since she had woken from that coma, Maika had felt horrible about herself. To think that it was she that got [F/N] in such a bad situation, The guilt Maika felt was indescribable.

No one spoke, Not for a good long while. Their eyes darted back, Trading looks speaking their own thoughts about the situation. Iguro and Shinobu seemed rather cautious and Gyomei seemed to wait for the opinions of the others before he weighed in his own.

It was Mitsuri whoever who decided to take action, Stepping forward towards Maika before kneeling down towards her. A smile brighter than the sun outside as she grasped onto her hands.

She squealed.

"Kyah~! Of course you can come along, Anyone who wants to help, Should help!" Mitsuri grinned as she held Maika's hands within her own, Grasping them warmly as the girl looked up at the woman with a rather shocked blush burning on her face.

"K-Kanroji-sama!" She stammered.

Gyomei stepped forward.

"Are you sure about this, Kanroji-san..?" He asked as he heard their interaction, Hands still in prayer.

"Yes, One hundred percent! Let's go now, Get everyone ready. Heihachiro-san can come with us!" Mitsuri said as sure as she had ever been as she looked back at him, A massive smile on her face. Shinobu stepped forward.

"Well.. If Mitsuri-chan trusts her, Then I suppose I do too!" She cheered, Smiling slightly as she turned towards the rest of the Hashira. "Get ready and discard your slayer uniforms! We'll head for the convent in half an hour."

"Ah.. I suppose I shall be making my leave then.." Gyomei remarked as he wandered past the group, Assumedly to grab his luggage and make his goodbyes before he heads back to his estate.

Shinobu followed him off, Going to tell the group of younger slayers at the table the same news. Mitsuri quickly untied the ropes around Maika's wrists and ankles, To whom thanked her and stretched her tired limbs.

Mitsuri gave a 'no problem' in reply and raised from her position, Turning back to look at Obanai.

"Isn't this great, Iguro-san? I know we're all going off to fight an Upper Moon, But I'm still happy to be able to spend it with all of you!" She cheered with a smile, Looking at Obanai.

He swallowed, Feeling exposed all of a sudden.

"I.. Suppose." Obanai said as he tossed his head to the side, Choppy black bangs covering his red hot face as he turned away from Mitsuri.

Her brow raised.

"Ehh..? Are you okay, Iguro-san? Are you feeling alright, Your face is pretty red!" Mitsuri observed, Stumbling forward as she spotted a hint of burning blush on his face. Obanai huffed, Stumbling back from her.

"I feel fine, Thank you for your concern. We should get going soon." Obanai blurted out as he began to walk away, Leaving a confused Mitsuri watch him go. Mitsuri hummed, Acknowledging the situation.

"Kanroji-san.."

Mitsuri turned her head, As soon as Obanai left, She heard the voice of Gyomei Himejima beckon her over from the other side of the room. He was stood tall, Seemingly preparing the luggage for his departure.

"Oh.. Himejima-san!" Mitsuri called back with her smile reappearing on her face, Not wasting any time to skip over to where Gyomei stood with a . "I guess you'll be leaving now, It's a shame that you won't be able to come along with us!"

Gyomei nodded slightly,

"Yes, It is.. However I just wish to speak with you for a slight second before I leave.." He asked cordially, Stepping closer towards Mitsuri. "It is about my Tsuguko, Himejima Shizuko."

"Shizuko..?" Mitsuri mumbled under her breath, A bell ringing in her head. It wasn't long before her eyes widened however, Shoulders tensing up. "You mean [F/N]'s brother..?! He's here..?!"

Mitsuri's head instantly shot back and forth, Eyes scanning everyone in the room.

"Correct, He was the one I decided to summon after all.." Gyomei replied, Fairly confused as to how Mitsuri hadn't noticed the boy beforehand.

Mitsuri quickly spun around towards the table where everyone sat, Eyes darting through the little crowd. It seemed like they were all getting ready to head off, But from amongst the group Mitsuri could spot a certain mess of hair.

Wide eyes, Scars, Rough braided hair.

Her breath caught in her throat.

"Oh my gods, That's where I recognise him from-! How did I not see it before..?!" Mitsuri gasped as she watched Shizuko put away his things, Barely held back from rushing over to greet him.

"Kanroji-san." The rumble of Gyomei's voice made Mitsuri double take, Turning her head back around to meet his solemn face.

"I came to ask that you do me a favour, By telling Shizuko about [F/N] and his past during this mission.."

"What..?!" Mitsuri gasped, Her eyes growing wide as saucers.

"He has not forgotten her entirely, It seems.. Only a few days ago he had admitted there were some surviving memories from his accident." Gyomei explained.

She shook her head slightly, Almost unbelieving.

"No way.. He actually.." Mitsuri mumbled under her breath, Seemingly collecting her thoughts before speaking once more. "I told this to you, I don't know the full story.. I.. I couldn't give him all the answers even if he did know."

Gyomei shook his head.

"But you know the most out of us all.. And it is right that he knows what you do, At the very least.. I am not the right person, You are." He said, Nodding in her direction.

Mitsuri just looked at him, Mind racing.

Mitsuri couldn't believe what she was hearing, What she thought was just going to be a farewell turned out to be much more than she was bargaining for. It was shocking enough to hear that Shizuko actually remembered something.

But for Mitsuri to also be given the duty of explaining said something? Even more unexpected. Her face turned into a rather apprehensive frown, Lips pressed tightly together.

"Himejima-san.. I understand what you mean but- You can't just leave me with this I mean.. I've never even spoken to him before.. And [F/N].. She herself said it was for the best if they were kept apart!" Mitsuri hushed under her breath, Pleading with him both in her tone and her eyes.

Gyomei nodded slowly, His brows knitting together in a sorrowful expression.

"You are right, I am deeply sorry for leaving you with this.. But he has the right to know, Just not from me." He explained, Hearing the rough voice of his Tsuguko in the background. "For whatever reason [F/N] wished to stay apart.. I believe that is not truly what she wants."

"I.." Mitsuri thought over his words, Ones that struck a cord within her. Mitsuri knew she didn't know the full story, But she knew [F/N] down to the atom, And her wanting to stay away from Shizuko?

Yeah, That wasn't like her at all.

"You're right. [F/N].." Mitsuri stumbled over her words, Shaking her head. "Just.. All I want is some time, Okay? I'll tell him but.. I'll need to put a few things together first, Just make sure everything is understandable."

Gyomei nodded, The expression on his face lightening ever so slightly as he turned around towards his luggage laid out in a satchel. Picking it up and tying the knot.

"Thank you, Kanroji-san.. This means a lot, Both to me and I leave him in your care.. I trust you will keep him safe." Gyomei said, Slinging his satchel over his shoulder before bowing towards the woman. Mitsuri copied his actions, Lowering down herself.

"You can trust me, I promise Shizuko will be safe.." Mitsuri said, Politely yet quietly so that no one could hear them. Gyomei raised from his bow, Settling his yukata over his chest once more before grasping onto his satchel.

They said their goodbyes, And the rest of the group did the same. As Gyomei was walking out, None of the crowd noticed the new air around him and Mitsuri, Some mutual feeling like understanding shared between the two.

Mitsuri sighed once he left, Another task put on her roster along with finding out what was wrong with Shinobu. She couldn't argue however, It was much better to deal with this than let it go untouched.

Mitsuri had learnt that the hard way.

So she turned, Prancing back towards the group to help the rest of them pack their stuff for the journey ahead. She had a smile on her face, No matter how terrifying the situation was about to be.

☆♡☆

[F/N] was left sitting on her bedside, Head dropped, Hands in lap as she tried to mull over what happened.

A sort of disgusting shiver wormed through her system as she remembered his aura, Not to mention their conversation. His behaviour too was particularly unpinnable, [F/N] having no idea why he's acting repulsed to her attempts to talk to him.

It was Kokushibo after all who encouraged this behaviour in the first place, And she was trying her best to play into it best she could. Yet he seemed so opposed to it, Perhaps even a bit aggressive when she admitted she wanted to speak to him.

Why?

There was no point in trying to unravel his behaviour, [F/N] supposed. She hadn't been able to do it before so there was no way she'd ever be able to, Not right now at least.

All [F/N] knew was that she hated him. That he was a centuries old demon with violent instincts, That he had siphoned her away to some mockery of her now defunct shrine. [F/N] knew that he was a horrible person.

Her teeth gritted.

She couldn't stay here, She couldn't bare to be in this decrepit shrine any longer.

[F/N] pushed herself off of the bed, Pins and needles in her legs not bothering her as she turned back and kneeled down so far, Face peeking under the bed.

The ropes.

[F/N] needed to get to work, Right away. Hands lunged under the bed, Snatching the thick spool of unassorted ropes in a single palm as she pulled them out. She needed to start making her way through the infinity castle if she wanted to find the exit door.

"[F/N]!"

A voice called out from somewhere down the hallway, It was Akaza's, About time that he'd show up since Kokushibo had left a good few hours ago. [F/N] paid no heed however as she lugged herself back up onto her bed, Spools of rope in hand.

She set them down on her lap as the door slid open.

"[F/N], You awake?" Akaza called out into the room, Though his question was instantly answered as he watched her begin to play with the ropes in her hand from within the darkness.

"Yep, Wide awake. Had a rather eye-opening conversation with you-know-who earlier and I haven't been able to get them closed since." [F/N] replied but she didn't look at him, Instead beginning to find the ends of two rope to tie.

Akaza's face scrunched up, Golden eyes glowing in the dark.

"Seriously? You actually had a conversation with him?" He scoffed slightly.

"I'll tell you about it if you lend me a hand, We're gonna work on the rope."

"Deal. Though I'm relieved you finally decided to start working on your escape, It was starting to get annoying.." Akaza muttered as he walked forward towards her in the dark, Lunchbox in hand. "Good timing though, Was able to bring you in a few tools for the nails or whatever."

Akaza held up the lunchbox in hand, Presenting it as something more that cutlery rattled around inside. A hammer, By the sounds of it. The spare nails laying around under her bed would finally be put to use.

[F/N] didn't smile, But a glint in her eyes spoke more than she could ever say. Looking up towards Akaza, She spoke.

"Perfect."

☆♡☆

They were high up, Thousands of feet above the air.

Clouds were below them now, Like a ring surrounding the horizon. The sky fading from a desaturated baby blue to a vibrant burst of yellow now that the clock was ticking. Winds were high, Not as much as to cause resistance, But enough so that fabrics and hair would dance violently in the gales.

It was chill too. Snow dusted the glaciated landscape like sand across a desert. From towering pine trees and bustling ferns and sprigs, Slush ice lain in the nooks and crannies' of every single one.

They trudged through the pebblish pathway up the mountain, Mitsuri often gazing out into the expanse of the valley like ants below. The air flourishing up here, So fresh that she couldn't help but take it all in.

Her eyes shone, The blinding sun reflecting in her irises.

"Come on now! We're almost there!" Shinobu called out, Her voice echoing slightly as they neared the grassy top of the mountains. It had been a few hours, If they weren't trained swordswomen, They would've taken much longer in accountancy of breaks.

Mitsuri turned to her, Guiding her hair out of the way as she smiled.

"Right! Let's get a move on, Girls!" Mitsuri called out to the two girls behind her, Kanao and Maika who had issues with keeping their hair out of their faces as well. They nodded, Picking up the pace as they pushed themselves up the slope.

They had decided to split up, The men approaching where the convent should be in a different direction. They had figured that going in one big group would be rather suspicious, And according to Shinobu's plan mixed with Gyomei's information, It was best split by gender.

Kanao had Nezuko's box resting on her back, Kanao's hands resting on the straps to makes sure it stayed steady on her back. Apparently the cult had some rather interesting gender dynamics, Having the women rest and leisure while the men were put to work.

It was strange, Shinobu could tell.

"U-Um-! Can we take a break, Please?" Maika called out to the two women in front of her who had already reached the rather dense woodland atop it all. Shinobu looked at her for a second, Smiling before Maika reached the top.

"Ah.. I suppose A break would be fine. Though not for long as we need to stay vigilant, Being in one spot for too long would be dangerous, I deem." Shinobu deduced as she turned to look at the breath-taking sight beside her, Barely batting an eye as she stared out into the expanse.

Mitsuri huffed as she stopped to stretch her numb legs, Feeling the cold air soak into her skin. She stood next to Shinobu, Taking in the sight together. Something rewarding after the trek up her.

She smiled, Remembering how much times she had to pop her ears.

"Beautiful, It's a pretty nice change from the village scenery, Eh? Not saying that it was bad but.. Come on, Look at that sky~!" Mitsuri wondered with a smile.

"Yes, I agree. Almost makes it worth the journey.." Shinobu spoke with a smile.

They took a moment to breathe it all in, Gaze off onto the horizon of bursting hues, A good reward for their trek up here. They didn't speak for a while, Letting the wind chill their sweat and cool them off.

Mitsuri smiled.

"This reminds me of the golden days, You know?" She spoke softly, Eyes finally peering over to Shinobu.

"Hm?" Shinobu hummed, Turning to look at Mitsuri.

"Oh come on. Me, You and [F/N]?" Mitsuri giggled slightly, Memories coming back to her. "Remember when we travelled around slaying demons together when we were younger? It's just kind of been a while since we've been on a mission together.."

Shinobu's smile, Mitsuri never noticed but it changed, Just a little bit more.. Real.

"Remember when we had to disguise ourselves as men to sneak into that nobleman's dinner? Ah.. I remember you had to put on that masculine voice. You know, I'm pretty sure you scared some of the poor Geisha serving us." Shinobu asked, A hand covering her teasing smile.

"Ah-! Don't remind me, That was so embarrassing!" Mitsuri laughed as she fanned her cheeks. Shinobu giggled. "I guess it was pretty fun, Though! Honestly I think about it more than I should.. I guess I miss it, You know?"

Shinobu nodded, Agreeing with her statement. Her smile dimmed just a little bit, However the genuinity never died.

"If only [F/N] didn't fall into that coma.." Shinobu mumbled, Eyes looking somewhere far off.

"If only we didn't go to that festival." Mitsuri corrected, The smile dimming on her face until it darkened into a frown.

The silence afterwards was much more dense than before, Neither of the girls feeling it was right to speak. Mitsuri felt awkward under the weight of the silence, Her hands coming together to fiddle with her fingers.

Looking at Shinobu, Mitsuri could see her mind work through her eyes. It was obvious from the meeting back at the butterfly mansion that this mission meant a bit more to Shinobu than she was letting on.

And they were about to go fight Upper Moon Two, Well, They weren't quite sure how long it would take to get to that point. But Mitsuri could tell something was wrong with her, And she needed to know what.

She sighed, Air turning to vapour.

"Shinobu-chan.."

Mitsuri finally broke the silence, Shattering like glass.

Shinobu turned her head back to look at her, Small frown still on her face.

"You know I've been meaning to talk to you for a while now, And.. I feel like it's best to bring this up before we leave, You know?" Mitsuri spoke as soft and caring as she could muster, Her eyes shining as she turned to look at her peer.

Shinobu's lips turned back up into a tight smile, A twitch in her eyebrow, Glancing back towards Mitsuri.

"Mitsuri-chan, Whatever this is about, I think it's best if we save it for later." Shinobu responded, Her voice sounding like it had been practiced. "We've spent too much time in one place, We better get movi-"

"No-!" Mitsuri cut in, Realising her tone she shook her head. "I'm sorry, Shinobu-chan. But I know you've been avoiding this conversation for a while now, I want to talk, You need to tell me what's wrong."

Shinobu's smile widened as she fully turned to meet Mitsuri, A noticeable strain on her lips as she beamed at her.

"..There's nothing to speak about, Mitsuri-chan! I'm completely alright, Perhaps a bit stressed.. Maybe that's what you're worried about?" Shinobu proposed, An eyebrow raised as she tilted her head.

"No, It's- It's more than that, I can tell!" Mitsuri exasperated, Her face turning more concerned by the second. "You need to say what's going on, You've not been yourself recently.. Please, You can talk to me!"

Shinobu's stare burned into Mitsuri like the sun glaring into vision. Mitsuri watched as Shinobu just stopped entirely, Her smile still plastered on her face, Making no move to speak.

Fingers curling, A vein in her forehead. Like a porcelain doll, It was if she needed time to process Mitsuri's words.

It was disturbing, Seriously distur-

"Greetings, Is anyone there?"

Heads jerked towards the source of the new voice, Belonging to none within the designated group.

By the edge of the forest-line stood a woman accompanied by a child, Both adorned in white robes. The women cradled a wicker basket in her hand, Half full with what seemed to be the fruit that grew here.

The child held one too, Both looking at the group of girls before them.

The smell of Lotus Flowers burned in the air, Noticeably so.

"Ah..! Greetings, Ma'am! We didn't think anyone would be out here!" Shinobu giggled, Readily stepping away from Mitsuri and towards the woman and child duo instead. "My name is Fujimori Hina, I apologise if we startled you!"

The woman watched as Shinobu lowered down into a respectful bow, Her eyes seemed apprehensive as they darted amongst the newcomers before her. Shinobu could spot the child shifting behind the woman, His eyes wide as he stared.

The woman's lips turned into a smile, Though it was very much faked.

"Ah.. No, I had just heard voices and thought it was best to come check it out." The woman explained, Examining Shinobu from head to toe. "What are you all doing up here..? This is rather far from the nearest village.."

Shinobu raised from her bow to see the woman, Suspicious already even with that kind smile, Shinobu could tell. The child behind her seemed rather hesitant towards them, Almost as if they were an oddity.

Shinobu nodded, Shooting a look towards Mitsuri that spoke plenty.

"We got lost, You see.. We've been meaning to head to Fukushima however our ride broke down and left us stranded!" Shinobu frowned and shook her head, An unfortunate expression on her face. "We figured we could find a village from this vantage point.. However it seems the one down there is a rather long journey.."

"Y-Yeah! It's been a while since we've ate is all.. " Maika piped up from where her and Kanao sat on the floor, Voice shaking, Eyes trained on the woman and her rather odd appearance.

The woman nodded slowly.

"Ah.. I understand. And you all are.."

"-They're my sisters." Shinobu finished. "And yes, Adopted before you ask. I realise we do not look similar, We get that question a lot." She laughed airliy, A smile reappearing upon her face.

"Umeko." Mitsuri said, Raising her hand to greet her.

"Asuna..!" Maika chimed in.

"Kariya." Kanao spoke.

"Right.. I see." The woman drawled, Eyes narrowing. For some reason she was suspicious, Rather apprehensive to the women she came across. "I suppose that you better start moving, It is a rather long journey to the village.."

The woman spoke, A sort of politeness in her voice that was. She almost looked like she was ready to leave, Prepared to grab the child by the wrist and beckon him off into the forest.

Acting quickly, Mitsuri stepped forward.

"Please, Ma'am. We don't mean to trouble you.. But is there anywhere we could stay for tonight?" She begged, Both in voice and her eyes. "We promise to repay you..! We just want somewhere to rest for a while, A bit of food and someplace to pray."

Mitsuri's tone pleaded with the woman, Who still looked rather apprehensive towards the group. Mitsuri, Though a little annoyed that she was cut off from reaching Shinobu, Still grasped the situation. Seeing how the woman appeared aloof.

Though her eyes shifted once the word prayer came from Mitsuri's tongue, A glint like stars in her irises.

They all waited on baited breath, One's they didn't know they were holding. Both Mitsuri and Shinobu both knew that this was no ordinary woman, Both by looks and by her actions. What reason she had to be suspicious, A dead give away.

Would she respond in kind or in aggression? Did she know they were slayers?

The woman breathed out.

"..Well, I suppose that it is only right if I help out my fellow women of faith." The woman smiled, Much more genuine this time. Shinobu's ears twitched at the word 'faith', Her eyes narrowing as the woman stepped towards them.

A wave of relief flooded amongst the group, Shoulders slumping, Held breaths released from lungs. The woman stepped to the side, Child following after her as she beckoned the group to follow her.

"You can follow me, I'm sure I can get you all fed and cared for. You're lucky..! Fortunately around here, We always make sure to tend to our fellow faithful." The woman smiled as she turned, Basket in hand as she began to wander off into the woods.

"Of course, Thank you so much, Ma'am! We appreciate it so much..!" Shinobu thanked her, Bowing her head lightly before taking the first skip to follow the woman. Mitsuri following after, The girls coming last.

They followed her, Trailing along her pathway through the tall forest she came from. The child skipping ahead, Seemingly not wanting to be near the group of girls.

Looks shared between them spoke more than what they could say. Looks of suspicion and fear, While Mitsuri and Shinobu's seemed much more steady as they walked. They both knew that this woman had to be associated with the cult.

Especially with the way she said 'faith'.

Some woman with some pungent scent. It wasn't bad, Per se, But it was strong. It was like freshwater and flowers, So freezingly refreshing yet bitter all the same. Her clothes were pure, No blemish to be found upon the dove white of her kimono.

It was like wedding attire, Was she going to be wed?

It looked so, Everything about her seemed perfectly done. Her hair was midnight yet glistened under the mountain sun, Her makeup could put the most gorgeous Oiran to shame..

It was strange, So beautifully strange.

So they followed along, Both hesitant and eager at the same time. Forest growing darker as they walked, More dense, Deeper and deeper they went.

And the smell of Lotus Flowers grew so much more potent.

Next Chapter

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thegainingdesk · 11 months ago

Text

The Grommr Profile of Dorian Grey

Dorian finished the last chicken wing, delicately wiping his hands with a napkin, before dabbing at the sides of his mouth. “And one hundred!” He beamed at the camera, and rubbed his middle, not-so-subtly lifting his t-shirt to reveal taut, flat six-pack abs. “Guess that will sort me until dinner,” he said with a wink to his audience.

He looked at the comments on his livestream. Most were in awe, as usual, at how much he could eat while maintaining his stick-thin figure and classically handsome good looks. Others, frustratingly, accused him of being a fake - of using some contraption or camera trickery to make the food disappear, of editing in CGI food, of bullimia. He'd done live shows, week-long streams, streams in nothing but his boxers, but nothing would ever convince some of his viewers.

One in particular caught his attention: lol, why are you all commenting like he'll respond? everyone knows he films these over like a week and then edits it together after

Dorian gritted his teeth. “Actually, user WelcomeToMyFistedMind, comment at fifteen thirty-two and eighteen seconds, this is very much live. And actually, I don't think I am done quite yet.” He stood and walked to the kitchen, coming back with a box of two dozen donuts he'd bought for tomorrow's stream. He sat back down and pushed the first one into his mouth, grinning around the custard that oozed out.

Forty-five minutes and twenty-four donuts later, Dorian flashed one last smug grin at the camera and closed twitch. He leant back, lifted up his t-shirt and ran his fingers lazily up and down his treasure-trail, following the center line between his abdominals. Despite the literal pounds of food he'd eaten in the last couple of hours, his stomach was as flat as ever, his twinkish frame showing none of the effects of the food he ate day in, day out.

His channel, MukbangBangYoureDead, had exploded in viewers ever since he started it a few years ago, until he was now one of the most famous mukbangers on the internet. He could not only eat more than all of his competitors, he made it look easy, and all without gaining a pound.

Of course, he had something that they didn't - the deal. He'd been hesitant at first, didn't believe the strange visitor that had come to him one night could or would deliver on its promises. But here he was, years later, making tens of thousands of pounds a month, all without consequence.

Thinking about the deal, he opened Grommr on his phone and brought up his profile. He whistled as he saw the updated weight - 576 pounds. He'd been flirting with 570 for a while now, and was pleased to see how far he'd stepped over that threshold. Time, he thought, for an update for his loyal fans on that platform too.

He pulled his trousers off and threw them to the side, leaving his t-shirt on. He walked to the mirror and admired his toned, pencil-like legs, his lightly muscled arms, the way his t-shirt draped from broad shoulders and tight pecs over his narrow waist, and his large bulge constrained by a designer jock-strap in bright yellow. He raised his phone up and took a picture, and proceeded to take his shirt off. He raised one hand to a lightly-haired pec and gave it a squeeze as he took a second picture. Finally, he lay down on his bed, snaked some long-slender fingers into his waistband, and raised his phone to take another photo from above.

He uploaded the pictures to Grommr without even looking at them - he knew there'd be no point, that they'd look completely different in just a moment or two. They appeared one by one as they uploaded.

Each showed a behemoth of a man. In the first the man stood in a mirror, wearing a t-shirt that cut into fat hanging from his sides and strained to cover large, pendulous breasts. His gut hung out and down, covering his genitals - a small pop of yellow beneath his love handles was the only hint that he was wearing any underwear. The man's face was huge and round, his features almost amorphous. Small, piggy eyes sat above bulbous cheeks, which merged into a ring of fat around his head, his chin a mere dimple in the fat around his neck. Even in the still image, it was clear that the man's arm was straining against its own weight to hold the phone up.

The next photo was much the same. The same morbidly obese figure stood in the same mirror. This time, the pitifully small t-shirt had been discarded to reveal cascading flesh hanging to the side, lying on the mountainous belly. One hand grasped one of the tits, bloated fingers digging into the soft flesh.

In the next, the figure was laid prone. Gravity had pulled down on the soft flesh and caused it to drop down and pool around the figure. The moobs lifted up towards the man's non-existant neck and chin, his gut spread out, his face expanded in all directions. New rolls and folds had formed - where arm met shoulder, where joints bent, or where his gut bunched up against itself. In the brighter lighting, painfully red stretch marks bloomed across the man's skin, circling his thighs, his love handles like loaves, across his dropping breasts. The man's left hand struggled to reach around his gut to grasp at the waistband of a straining jock strap, within which a small bump suggested some long-forgotten nub of a cock, sunk deep within the fat that spilled out around the underwear’s pouch. The man’s face was red, and seemed to strain as he struggled to maneuver his own flesh.

Dorian watched on in boredom as the first few comments rolled in. The usual adoring fans, begging to know the secrets to his titanic weight, proclaiming they’d soon look the same, asking to meet up. He would wait until a few of his regulars sent their customary tips, then go on with the rest of his day. In the meantime, a couple of the comments caused a smile to spread across his angular face.

MayContainDonuts: MealWithTheDevil looking great as ever! I don't know what it is, but he always looks so much like that one mukbang guy? Obviously fatter, but just the eyes and nose and stuff? I wonder if they're related?

BloatGoat: Do you mean MukbangBangYoureDead? If you can find some of his old photos the resemblance is uncanny. People used to think they were the same person but obviously not. Definitely could be related!

Dorian smirked and went to close the app, stopping only to check a small notification that popped up at the top of his screen. There would be routine server maintenance the next day, and the site would be down for around eight hours, starting mid-morning for the UK.

Dorian sighed. He hated server shutdowns, and this would be the longest he'd experienced yet. Still, he had a while to prepare. He'd have to cancel some lunch plans, but he could make up some lie about being ill. He got dressed, stood up and left to go buy enough food for tomorrow.

Dorian paced around his flat nervously the next morning. He checked his watch - 10:01. He quickly tried to bring up Grommr - sure enough, he was met with an error message about the server being down. It would start soon enough.

The first sign of it was his t-shirt. Previously loose, after about five minutes he found he was having to fuss with it to get it to sit right. another five minutes and it had begun riding up around puffy lovehandles and a firm paunch, while his sweatpants were starting to slip down an expanding rear. Another ten minutes and he took the t-shirt off, freeing a large beer gut that bounced when he walked. His sweatpants had grown almost skin tight around hefty thighs and would soon be too tight for comfort. He knew that this was only the start.

The hunger started then; sickly, stabbing pains in his newly expanded gut. He put two pizzas in the oven and sat with a donuts while he waited, knowing that soon his body, and his appetite along with it, would soon be able to accommodate all the food.

Just under thirty minutes in, Dorian's gut started to rest on his lap when he sat. He leant back, the swollen sack of fat at his middle dragging along his lap as he did so, and his cock began to harden. He reached a hand up to scratch the pink stretch marks beginning to form below his budding moobs.

While stuffed to the point of breathlessness just five minutes before, his stomach was still expanding, and he could feel the gnawing hunger begin to creep back in. He belched and stood, tottering slightly at the near-total shift in center of gravity since he’d sat down. He peeled off his sweatpants, struggling past his wide arse and flabby thighs, then gathered as much food as he could in his arms, using the top of his gut as a shelf and cautiously made his way back to his sofa, where he collapsed down, put on a trashy movie, and continued to eat.

Dorian continued to grow as his pile of junk food diminished. He savoured the feeling of soft, supple skin sliding past skin as he swelled - his growing tits pouring out onto his behemoth gut, his underbelly coursing forwards across rotund thighs dimpled with cellulite, his fat pad oozing around his perpetually hard dick. He knew to wait though; the bigger he was, the hotter his eventual orgasm would be.

Dorian looked down and surveyed himself. His body was beginning to be defined by rolls upons rolls. He estimated himself to be around the size he reached last time there was some server downtime; his profile had put on at least a hundred pounds since then. He lifted a heavy arm and used a hand to probe his plush flesh, sighing at the way his newly chubby fingers sank into the fat.

Still, the hunger increased. Dorian tried to lean forward to grab his phone, but found his own sheer bulk resisted him, pushing him back. He spread his legs and allowed his gut to fall down between them, the shift pulling his body forward in his seat and causing a dull ache in his lower back. He picked up his phone and with clumsy sausage-like fingers brought up a delivery app. He allowed instinct and hunger to take over - spring rolls, beef, chilli beef, sweet and sour chicken, duck pancakes, chilli chips, everything he saw he was ravenous for. He'd not been this big before and the hunger was deep. He pressed order, only briefly worrying about how he'd answer the door when he had no clothes that could hope to fit him.

Dorian’s body continued to expand. There was an alienness to his new size; his thighs had to splay around his hanging gut, his arms sat uncomfortably on top of thick pillows of fat at his sides, each joint filled with lard, and most of all was the awareness of gravity, how it pulled at his body and how his body answered in kind by dropping down and down.

Half an hour of nagging hunger later, his doorbell rang. He threw himself forward, but fell back to the sofa. Even that unsuccessful effort left him winded. He rolled to the side, fat cascading over fat as he did so, and staggered to stand sideways, his arms shaking as he heaved with all his might against the sofa. He grabbed a blanket and draped it over him; it barely covered his torso, but it was the best he could do.

How had he never realised how easy walking was before? Now, every step needed to be purposeful and required a conscious effort to propel his weight forwards. He had to wheel each thigh out and around past the other, each one a lead weight to be lifted. Dorian reached the door panting and sweaty, his hips burning with the beginnings of pain. The delivery driver looked on in shock, and then in slow horror. Dorian didn't care, he just grabbed his bags and slammed the door, before making his slow way back to his seat.

As he fell back, the sofa made a loud crunching sound and he felt himself sink deep into the cushions. He shuffled over the other side as best he could, each movement sending shockwaves across his body. He piled his bags into the crater left on the other side of the sofa and ate directly out of them, the table now wholly unreachable.

Dorian suspected he stopped growing around the time that he'd finished his food. If nothing else, the hunger had stopped. His torso had become a series of rolls, each one wrapped around his entire body and piled on top of the next. His limbs had become huge sacks of flesh, spreading out beneath him, the only evidence of his joints small, soft dimples in the thick casing of his body.

Dorian knew he'd waited long enough now. He pushed a stubby paw into the deep fold underneath his gut, reaching for the hard nub of his cock not yet swallowed by his fat pad. It was no use however, the heavy weight of his belly pressing down and closing off his own groin from himself. He leant to the side and spread his thighs, freeing up access and shifting his weight off from his lap, but still his fingers had to squirm past sweaty flesh into the small crevice left of his crotch. He grasped at the hard head of his cock, finding it in a shallow depression of flab nestled in dense pubes. With two fingers he did his best to jerk himself off, but to no avail - there was simply not enough cock left and not enough space to handle it in. Desperate for release he began to thrust, rocking his pelvis back and forth, so that the thick shaft of his penis slid within his own blubber, fucking his own body. He closed his eyes and ignored the tortured groans of the sofa below him as his pleasure grew. It only took a few minutes for him to cum, semen coating his fat pad and thighs as he yelled out.

Dorian slumped back, gasping for air, and exhausted, drifted off into a sleep.

When he woke up, it was dark. He could still feel the weight of his body pulling down. This wasn't right. As slow as it took for the weight to pile on, usually it melted away in seconds once the servers were back online, which should have happened hours ago. He checked the time - 23:24. Had something gone wrong?

He checked Grommr - the site was back up. He tried to log in - nothing. App - no. Browser - no. He tried to type his password in again, fat fingers mashing against the keyboard so that he had to try again slowly, deliberately. Nothing worked. He felt his heart pounding somewhere beneath his bosom.

Finally, he noticed an email in his inbox.

Grommr admin team - lost profile

During our recent scheduled server update, a small number of user profiles were unfortunately lost. We are sorry to tell you that your profile was one of those that we have not been able to recover. We are doing everything we can to recover lost profiles, but we are sadly not…

Dorian stopped reading. He looked down at the acres of flesh that were now his body. He lifted an arm up and let it fall, watching it shake and wobble in the dim light. What would he tell his family? His friends? His fans? This couldn't be happening.

Through his panicked breathing and heavy heartbeat, another feeling began to grow - Dorian Grey was beginning to feel hungry.

#weight gain #gainer story #gainer fiction #male weight gain #gaining fiction #weight gain fiction #weight gain story #wg story #im very proud of the grommr usernames #the grommr profile of dorian grey #the title came to me out of no where and i knew i needed to write it #no offence intended to any grommr admins #im sure you dont regularly need to shut down the servers for 8 hours at a time or randomly lose profiles

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