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gurugirl · 1 year

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A Delicate Thing*

Summary: Harry is a crime boss and he meets the woman of his dreams on an important night. Mafia boss!harry x innocent!reader

A/n: this was a very specific request (no longer tagged bc they changed their username). Also, here is a link (NSFW) to some porn that was also suggested for a little inspiration. It's just for aesthetics, please imagine who you like as the mc.

7.6k words

Warning: Smut, innocent virgin having sex for the first time, mean Harry (he's not mean to y/n), mentions of mafia stuff (nothing too deep), a creepy father, some cliche themes (this is just for fun guys)

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After his father, Desmond, passed away, Harry took over the family business. He was a perfect fit for the job. As tough and ruthless as Harry could be, he was also a shrewd businessman and he knew how to run his organization and keep the men and women working for him happy so they were loyal. Harry was only cruel when it was necessary, and luckily, his father left him with a great crew of people to help him run the business and they already looked up to Harry and respected him. The men under him took his word as scripture. They knew not to fuck with Harry or the Styles’ name. Harry wouldn’t allow it because Desmond never did. Never mind that the Styles’ business was a known crime organization, no one could touch him. Law enforcement wouldn’t even take them down. The Styles clan was too big and too powerful.

So it was because of this that Y/n’s dad, William, wanted to get on Harry’s good side. Perhaps get a leg up in the organization. William had been working for the Styles’ since he was in his 20s, and now a man in his 40s, he wanted a bump up. More responsibility. More money. More power. His daughter, Y/n was young and pretty. He knew she was pretty because any time he brought her around the men would make comments and tell William he should be careful to let her out of his sight. So he had an idea when it came time for the annual Styles gala. The gala was a fundraiser of sorts. The townspeople always attended, as well as politicians, public figures, and all of the members of the organization were there. It was a big night, especially for Harry. It was the first year Desmond would not be in attendance. So, Harry would be the lead for everything and head the event and reception. Though he had people to do almost everything for him, he was the man of honor for the night, officially stepping up and taking over where his father left off.

William had Y/n get absolutely dolled up. He was bringing her to show her off to Harry at the event. Perhaps get Harry’s attention with his daughter. Y/n did not want to go. She was not excited about showing off her legs or her arms, smiling all night at creepy men, painting her lips red, keeping her hair just so, all so her father could flaunt her off. It felt gross. It felt shameful, but what could she do? Her father was not one to defy. So, she reluctantly allowed the beautician, esthetician, tailor, and stylist to do their thing. Her hair was perfectly done, left long and wavy, silky, and shiny. The esthetician gave her skin (face and body) a beautiful glow, soft, supple, and smooth. Her eyebrows were sculpted, and her hair was removed from her body (including her bikini region at her father’s request). Her makeup was done in soft shades that complimented her pretty face. Nails painted top to bottom. And finally, she was adorned in a dress that was fitted to her physique to show off her body.

The emerald satin of the dress accentuated her skin and eyes and even she couldn’t deny how alluring she appeared in the mirror as she stared at herself. But it didn’t make her feel good. Yes, it was pretty, she looked pretty. But the entire scheme was disgusting. Her father was a disgusting man for doing what he was doing. With his own daughter of all people. It felt wrong. She felt like a pawn in her father’s game.

She was a pawn in her father’s game.

The venue was full of wealthy guests, townspeople, politicians, and servers. Harry was one of the first to arrive to make sure everything was going to plan. He was excited about the night, it would be the first in his honor. He wanted to make a good impression but he was also there because he needed to meet with a handful of his closest men. On his left arm was Darcie, the beautiful brunette whom he’d been fucking for the last week. She was fun and easy. And she looked good in her little black dress for the event. Harry wasn’t worried much about her. He’d have her sit by the bar and have a couple of drinks while he and his men discussed work.

William was amongst the men at the meeting with Harry. He left Y/n at the bar as well and told her she could have a glass of wine but no more. Darcie immediately noticed the young woman in emerald. Competition perhaps.

Y/n felt awkward and uncomfortable. Her dress was a bit too fitted in certain spots and her thigh was displayed. Sitting on the little stool at the bar and sipping a glass of wine she watched as the guests arrived. Most were sitting at tables and being served, some were standing and chatting with people they knew. Music began to play and suddenly William was by her side, “Let’s go. I want you to meet Harry.”

This was what she was told would happen before coming. She knew she was here to meet someone named Harry. Her dad’s boss. She wasn’t keen on it. Not at all. Her glass of wine was left at the bar as she followed William to a table where six men and three women were sat. William pulled at Y/n, pushing her in front of him, “Harry, this is Y/n. My lovely, lovely daughter. I’ve been looking forward to you meeting her.”

Y/n smiled at everyone at the table, most didn’t look up at her but she did recognize the woman in the black dress with brown hair, long down her back. She was also at the bar with her when her dad had left her for the brief meeting. She made eye contact with the woman but didn’t receive a smile in return. Rather it was a cold gaze and then the woman turned her head toward the man she was sitting next to, the one William was trying to introduce her to called Harry.

“Thank you, William. You can have your seat.” Harry stated, never looking in Y/n’s direction. Harry had seen it all. He was sure William’s daughter would not be of interest. Harry didn’t need a young, insecure daughter of one of his men as part of his posse. He had what he wanted. When he wanted. Darcie was fine for him at the moment. She was a sure thing at the end of the night. It was boring, actually. To have William trying to flaunt his daughter was annoying more than anything.

“Harry, Y/n here would like to shake your hand at least. She’s a big fan of yours. Could you at least do her that favor?” William was desperate. He knew that if Harry just looked at Y/n there could be a chance of having him see her beauty and maybe there’d be favor gained.

Harry sighed and placed his glass of whiskey down on the table to appease William. His goal was to get William to go away with his daughter. He didn’t care in the least. He drew his gaze up over the young woman and she was almost shivering. Her eyes were downcast toward the floor, and her bottom lip bit into her mouth. She was nervous, Harry could see. It was obvious that William’s daughter was put up to this, and she was not here because she was a fan as William stated. There was something else at play and Harry didn’t like the looks of it.

The girl was stunning. Shy, insecure, and shaking. Harry frowned and looked at William and then back to the poor thing who was uncomfortable with the situation and he was filled with a touch of anger at the way William had paraded his daughter to him in this way.

Y/n knew Harry was a big boss of a crime organization and not one to be interrupted or annoyed. She felt as if she and her father were doing just that. That this was going to be her end and that Harry would have them done away with.

“William. Thank you. Y/n, come sit with me, here,” Harry snapped his fingers at the server who was standing at the table and motioned for them to bring a chair to his side, opposite where Darcie was seated. When the chair was placed on Harry’s left side, William nudged Y/n to sit.

She looked at her dad with worry, “Go on, darling. This is our chance,” he whispered to her.

Harry kept his eyes on William, “I said thank you, William. Take your seat at your table. Your daughter will sit here at the table with me.”

Y/n sat down as she was directed and kept her face downward. She didn’t know what to expect. Her heart was pounding. She’d never seen Harry in person, but he was very intimidating and his green eyes were striking. He was an eye-catching man. But she was still unsure of what to expect. His power and his ruthlessness proceeded him. She’d heard of the things he’d done to men before. Harry was not a nice man and now here she was sitting at his side amongst other men and women who were also not nice.

Darcie, who was sitting on Harry’s right side leaned in toward Harry and spoke loudly enough that Y/n could hear, “Poor girl. Wearing a cheap dress like that probably feels quite out of place here with us,“ her laugh indicated she wasn’t being nice in her words. Darcie knew the sudden arrival of the young woman was a threat to her place.

Harry ignored Darcie completely and looked over Y/n’s frame as she kept her eyes down. He was intrigued. The girl seemed scared but she was the daughter of one of his top men. A man that was looking for a promotion in the organization. The more Harry considered William, the more he wondered if the fact that he brought his daughter here was just a way to get Harry’s attention for a raise or a leg up. Harry didn’t like this. He didn’t like to use people as pawns and for William to use his own daughter in this way felt disgusting.

But it wasn’t Y/n’s fault. He could see that right away. No, Y/n was innocent. Pure. A sweet thing who was not here because she wanted to be. She was here because her father’s intentions were unkind and rather insulting. What did William think this was? A way to gain some kind of favor? Harry would do what he wanted and if William deserved favor he’d have it but not this way.

“Darling, is this normal? For your father to bring you to places and show you off in this way?” Harry was curious about how William had been treating this beautiful creature sat next to him. He moved the hair from her face gently so he could get a better look at the delicate thing.

When she finally turned her head to look into Harry’s eyes there was no turning back for Harry. She was far more beautiful than he even realized. The moment her eyes met his he felt his heart thud and his throat nearly went dry. Her pink lips and her delicate features, the sparkle of her eyes, and her slender neck were like something he’d dreamed up. He was unable to help himself as he moved his eyes down over her dress and to the curve of her waist and the spread of her thighs under her satin emerald dress. An angel was before him.

Y/n opened her mouth and tried to reign in her breaths. She was scared. “No. I mean… sometimes he brings me around, uh…” she wrung her hands in her lap and looked back down to calm herself. His eyes were searing into her and it was distracting. The way he was looking at her had her ears going hot and her senses blurred.

Harry turned to face the girl and placed his hand on her jaw and turned her face back toward his, “Sweetheart. You don’t need to be scared around me. I’m not going hurt you,” he spoke and brought his other hand up to her shoulder, bringing his fingers down her arm softly to soothe her, “Now, go on. Tell me what you were going to say.”

Goosebumps were left in the path of Harry’s fingers down her arm and she closed her eyes for a moment to compose herself. The warmth of his touch sent her heart racing. She opened her eyes again and tried to speak clearly, “He brings me around some of the men in your organization. He tells me it’s so I can learn to be good for powerful men.”

Harry scoffed and tilted his head to the side, keeping his eyes on the angel, “No baby. That’s not okay. You know that right?”

Suddenly Darcie leaned in and stretched her hand out toward Harry, wrapping her long fingers around his forearm to get his attention, “Do you think that’s really true, Harry? She’s obviously just trying to make you feel bad for her…”

Harry’s face turned into a scowl as he turned himself and yanked his arm from Darcie’s grasp, “You’re dismissed. You can go find another table to sit at. I no longer am in need of your services,” Harry turned back to Y/n, and his eyes immediately softened at the girl.

“My services!? What? You’ve been fucking me all week and that’s what you call a service? This stupid virgin isn’t going to be giving you head like I did just this morning. That I can guarantee. Good luck with the lying bimbo!” Darcie stood up but before she could walk away Harry stood and grabbed her upper arm in a tight grip, “The fuck did you call her?” He pointed at Y/n as he snarled at Darcie.

Darcie’s eyes went wide when she realized how angry Harry was, “Apologize to her now!”

Darcie shook her head, “Harry, I’m sorry…”

Harry slammed a fist onto the table, the dishes clanking and his glass of whisky sloshing, and now the whole room was watching the outburst, “Not to me you stupid whore. To her!” He again pointed in Y/n’s direction.

Darcie blinked her eyes as tears began to form on her lower lashes. She looked from Harry down to Y/n and sputtered out her words, “I’m sorry.”

Before Harry released Darcie’s arm he leaned into her and spoke calmly and darkly, “Now get the fuck out of here before I have my men remove you. You are no longer allowed to be here.”

Harry wiped his hands down his suit as if he was brushing dust off of himself before sitting back down. He pulled Y/n’s chair closer toward him and leaned into her, “Sorry about that, baby. Are you okay?” He moved her hair from her shoulder and drew a hand up toward the side of her neck tenderly.

Y/n nodded quickly. She was still nervous. She’d been a little surprised by the way Harry treated his date but she’d seen worse with some of the other men before. She was glad he made Darcie apologize.

“Good,” Harry kept his eyes on Y/n’s as he snapped his fingers again and the server was quickly by his side.

Harry spoke softly, “What would you like to drink, darling? A beautiful thing like you deserves the finest things. Champagne maybe? Top shelf?”

Y/n opened her mouth and raised her brows in worry, “My dad told me not to drink too much…”

Harry tsk’d at her and smiled, “You don’t need to worry about William anymore. I’m going to be the one to take care of you from now on. And if you’d like the finest champagne you’ll have it.”

Y/n nodded, “Okay,” her voice was quiet and fragile.

Harry ordered a bottle of champagne to be brought to the table and fresh strawberries to go with it.

Harry doted on Y/n during the dinner and the speeches that were made during the event. Never taking his eyes off her, his fingers gently dancing on her skin. He knew it was probably a bit too much but he couldn’t stop himself from touching her and looking her over. She was going to be his.

When dinner and the main event were done it was time for the reception and party. Harry moved Y/n and some of his crew toward where there’d be entertainment and music for the rest of the night. He sat along the wall where there was a plush couch and some tables. Y/n was about to sit down when Harry took her wrist and pulled her into his lap. He needed her to be as close as possible.

When her soft bottom met the top of his thighs he angled her so he could still see her face and he brushed his hand along her bare back, where her dress was low and he could feel her soft skin under his fingers.

More drinks were served and chatter was all around them but Y/n was feeling something deep in her stomach with the close proximity to Harry. He’d been so soft and kind with her and the attention he was giving her, the words he’d whisper were all so much. She’d never experienced it before but she wanted more.

Harry put one hand on her bare thigh, gently moving his thumb over her skin, “Shit, you’re beautiful,” he whispered to her, his lips brushing her ear, “Do you know that, Y/n? You’re so fucking stunning, baby. Want you to be all mine. Okay?” His warm breath and the accent of his words with his deep voice were overwhelming Y/n’s senses. She wanted that. She’d just met him but she wanted him. She wanted to be his.

She licked her lips and turned to look at Harry, “Okay,” she whispered and nodded.

Harry grinned at her and the hand on her thigh slid higher up, the pads of his fingers finding the material of her dress and dipping just under it, “Yeah? You want that? Fuck, baby. I’m going to take good care of you, okay?”

Harry pulled her to him, his hand at the back of her neck and his mouth finding hers. She tasted like honey and berries and champagne. The softest and sweetest and most delicate thing he’d seen and felt in all his life.

Before the kiss could get too hot Harry broke away from it and it left Y/n breathless, her lips parted and eyelids low. Now she knew what she wanted without a doubt. She wanted to please him and to have him please her. His mouth on her ignited her insides and she felt her nipples perk under her dress.

Harry noticed it too. He realized the state he’d left her in so he moved a hand further up her dress discreetly and whispered, “I know baby. I’m going to take you home when we’re done here and give you everything you want. Anything you want,” he pressed his fingers upward until he met her bare pussy. She was not wearing panties and Harry nearly lost his mind when he felt the slickness between her legs. Harry immediately thickened in his pants. This girl was going to be treated so well and he was going to take care of his angel properly.

The rest of the night was difficult for both Harry and Y/n. Harry couldn’t stop kissing her and touching her and Y/n was slowly wetting her satin dress where she was seated. Harry was treating her so sweetly and saying just the right things to her. And when Harry pulled her hand down over his trousers so she could feel him hard underneath and it startled her.

Now, Y/n had masturbated before and she could make herself orgasm by softly rubbing herself on her pillows her using her fingers but she was a virgin and she was not experienced otherwise so she’d never touched a penis before. She’d seen pictures but had never been in the presence of a real-live penis. But here she was, on the lap of a man who was so aroused by her that his own prick was thickened and she knew that this meant he wanted her in the same way she wanted him.

When William eventually approached them he had a creepy smile on his face and he was clearly drunk. Y/n wrapped her arms around Harry and shrunk in his lap, not wanting her father to see her like this. She really didn’t want to see William at all for any reason. In fact, she’d nearly forgotten all about him with the way Harry had made her feel safe and wanted on his lap and with all the attention he was giving her.

Harry noticed Y/n’s sudden change of demeanor and held her close to give her comfort and turned to Randy as he pointed at William, “Get him out of here.”

And that was that. Harry and Y/n didn’t have to see William again that night. Harry would take care of William another day. At that moment, he could only think of how he was going to take care of his girl.

Harry had his driver take them to his estate when he felt it was a good time to slip out without being noticed. Most everyone at the event was occupied, dancing, talking, and drinking so no one cared much when Harry whisked Y/n away with him and out the back to the car waiting for them.

When they pulled into the long driveway past the iron gates to Harry’s mansion it was a shock. It was the biggest house she’d ever seen. Her eyes were wide as Harry helped her out of the car and put his arm behind her back and walked her to the door and inside. A man greeted them at the door and the inside was just as ornate and fancy as the outside.

Y/n couldn’t stop herself from swiveling her head around to look at all the beautiful finishes and decorations. The tall windows, twenty-foot ceilings, marble floors, stair banister, walnut inlays, chandelier, art, expensive looking vases, and bowls and rugs, the walls were covered in silk wallpaper with subtle designs…

“It’s a lot. I know. This was my father’s home. His tastes were a bit extravagant, but it grows on you. It’s the finest decorations and furniture from all over the world. Just wait til you see the rest of the place, darling,” Harry smiled at Y/n as he watched her take it all in.

“It’s so beautiful, Harry,” Y/n brushed her hand along the edge of the velvet high-back chair that was near the staircase where Harry was leading her.

Harry kept his eyes on the beautiful girl and nodded in awe of her, “It is so beautiful.”

The bedroom was large with high ceilings and tall windows and the biggest bed Y/n had ever seen. She heard the heavy walnut door being closed behind her when Harry came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her front, pressing her back into his chest.

He began to kiss her neck softly and she started to melt once again in Harry’s arms. His broad chest was solid and she felt safe in his arms. When he moved his hands down to her hips she felt the warmth of his palm even through her satin dress. But she also felt his solid length poking into her bottom and she was reminded of her own situation between her legs.

“Can I take off your dress, baby? Will you let me see you?” Harry whispered into her ear as his hands slowly smoothed up her sides over her dress. He knew she’d look like perfection. He could already tell. Her thigh had been on display and her dress was scooped low down her back where the front draped perfectly over her breasts and hugged her waist and hips.

Y/n nodded. She wanted relief. She was feeling the ache and the neediness that had begun at the reception earlier when he sat her in his lap. Her nerves were peaking but she was excited about it.

Harry removed his suit jacket and draped it over a chair and then turned to face Y/n and very slowly began to remove her dress, bringing the thin straps off of her shoulders and pushing the material down, exposing her breasts to him where he paused and placed a soft kiss to each of her nipples and she softly moaned at the touch.

Then he dragged the dress the rest of the way down her body and lifted her legs, one at a time to help her step out, leaving her in only her high heels and Harry thought he was going to faint. She was smooth, soft, and untouched by any imperfections on her skin.

He knelt down and put his hands up to her hips and placed his warm mouth on her tummy, kissing and squeezing her until he dropped his mouth to right over her sweet, pussy. She was already wet and he could see her juice peeking out from her labia, the shine and the smell made him twitch in his pants. He brought his lips down, going around her pussy, over her thighs, and to her knees, on each side, and then back up.

He looked up at her and she’d put her hands on his shoulders to steady herself when he pushed his tongue out and licked the very center of her wet slit with only the tip of his tongue.

“Is this okay, Y/n? Do you want me to make you feel so good?” He spoke over her pussy, his warm breath cascading down her folds and she gasped at the feel and nodded, “Yes, please.”

Harry stood up and moved her toward the bed and had her lie flat on her back in the very center, legs spread wide at his urging. He held her thighs apart and looked her over, taking all of her intimate bits in. Everything was perfection and she was his. He could hardly believe it.

Harry was gentle at first, kisses and licks and soft laps at her pussy. She didn’t know what to do with herself it felt so good. Better than her fingers for sure. But when he realized her clit was standing at full attention and she was puffy and whiny he knew she was ready for more. She was fully aroused.

So he put his mouth around her clit and softly brought it into his mouth, sucking the tiniest bit and watching her to get her reaction and he was not disappointed. The shock on her face turned into ecstasy and her pink lips parted as she moaned and cried. Harry smiled and repeated his actions, holding a thigh down for his access to his center.

Soon, as Harry was licking her and lapping her and sucking her just right, he circled two fingers over her tiny entrance and dipped just the tip of his fingers in to get a feel. Her muscle was tight but she was very wet and so he eased his two fingers into the first knuckle slowly. She gasped and tilted her head up to see what he was doing.

Harry’s intense gaze was on hers the whole time. She saw his pink tongue lapping at her slit and circling her clit and he had a hand at her entrance, prodding, and poking softly to open her up.

Harry lifted his face, “I’m gonna finger you darling. Just to get you used to the feel of this. Have you ever put your fingers into this little hole right here?” He wiggled the tips of his fingers inside of her as he asked.

She let out a soft breath and shook her head, “No.”

Harry smiled. He figured she hadn’t. So he went slow and watched her expressions change and the way her mouth got wider and wider and her moans got deeper and louder the further he pushed his fingers into her. She was so wet she was getting the comforter under her bum slick, just like Harry liked.

By the time Harry had his fingers pushed in all the way to his last knuckle, and his rings were disappearing into her hole she started fucking herself down onto his fingers by herself. She had the natural instinct to sink down on something inside of her and Harry gave her a good slurp on her clit and inserted another finger and she came with a yelp and a gush on his tongue. Her body shook when she felt her orgasm burst and it was better than any orgasm she’d ever given herself. His fingers had been poking and pushing into something delicate and sensitive inside of her that she’d never experienced before and it made her whole body shiver.

Harry let her come down and he gave her plenty of time to recover from her shock as he laid next to her and kissed her neck and her cheek and whispered to her how good she’d done.

“Such a good girl, Y/n. My sweet baby. I’ve never seen anyone come so pretty before. Taste so good too. I’m going to have you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day from now on, okay?’

Y/n smiled and nodded as she lulled her head over to look at Harry. His eyes were dark with lust and she knew she wanted to please him too. So she turned to face him and moved her hand down to his crotch, where he was solid and harder than ever.

Harry groaned at her touch and he grinned, “Want to see it?”

And of course, she did. She nodded and sat up as Harry began to remove his clothes. When he had pulled his underwear down his legs and crawled back into the bed with her she was speechless. She put her hand out toward his long cock and touched the very tip and sucked in a sharp breath at how warm he was.

She looked up at Harry with wide, round eyes, “It’s so big.” She knew that a penis was meant to go inside of a vagina and that she had a hole where Harry had his fingers, but she couldn’t imagine it fitting into her.

Harry grabbed her hand and pressed her palm down on him harder, “It’s all yours. Do you want to taste?”

Again, she nodded. She was curious about it. Harry pulled her toward him and she got onto her knees on the mattress next to him and dipped down to kiss the very tip. Her lips found his slit and Harry hissed and smiled at her, “Good girl.”

She knew that was a good sign so she kept going. Kissing the shaft and looking up at him when she poked her tongue out to lick the edge and taste him. It wasn’t bad. It didn’t taste like much really. Just warm skin on her tongue. She began to get the hang of it, licking and kissing along his thick shaft toward his base and then back up.

“Put the tip inside your mouth and suck,” Harry said as he nodded at her.

She eagerly lowered herself and opened her wet mouth, placing it over his crown and using the flat of her tongue to get him wetted and swipe around the head, perfectly caressing his frenulum and he moaned and put a hand into her hair, “Just like that baby.”

She continued doing what she thought he liked, keeping her eyes on his. She lowered a bit more and sucked hard at his urging and he threw his head back with a growl and he smiled at her eagerness and her soft lips.

“Spit over it and use your hands to get my cock all wet,” Harry nudged her.

So she did what he said, spitting on him and using her hands to smooth the saliva over him and down his shaft. She spit a few times to get him all slick in her hand and then continued to suck and swirl her tongue on the tip of his prick.

Harry was in heaven. But he wanted to feel his girl. He wanted to know what her pussy would feel like on him and he hoped she wanted that too.

He pushed her off of him softly and he looked at her in amazement, “Can we try something else, my angel?”

Y/n was in for anything at this point as she nodded.

Harry made her lay flat on her back as he knelt between her legs and held his heavy cock in his hands and swiped his tip through her drenched slit and it was a beautiful site.

“My penis will fit inside of this hole here,” he said as he plunged his middle finger into her entrance and then he pulled it out and licked his finger. Y/n bit her lip and she had a worried look on her face.

“What’s wrong, darling?” Harry asked as he thumbed over her clit to get her all worked up again. She started to wiggle a bit and roll her hips upward toward his finger for relief.

“I think it’s too big, Harry.” She said with a straight face.

Harry chuckled and shook his head, “No, baby, it’s not. Your hole will stretch and open up when I press this in. This is where babies come from, you know that right?”

She nodded and blinked. That made sense.

“And if a baby can come through this hole, my penis is sure to fit. And it’s going to feel so good. You’re gonna love it. You know how good it felt when I had my fingers inside of you?”

Harry slide a finger inside of her again and curled it up for her to feel the pressure and she nodded with a gasp.

“Exactly. It’ll feel even better with this in there,” he said when he began to swipe his cock up and down her labia again and softly nudged at her entrance with his head. If she were anyone else he’d already be fucking her and making her toes curl. But this was his Y/n. She was delicate and too sweet. He wanted her to feel comfortable and safe with him. He’d make her feel like a queen if she let him.

She nodded and she knew he was right. He’d only been gentle and caring with her this whole time. She trusted him, “Okay.”

Harry kept a thumb at her clit as he angled her hips for him to more easily push in. He stayed sat back, his knees bent with legs under him as she laid flat, her thighs spread and open for him.

She closed her eyes when she felt his crown begin to poke into her. His thumb felt nice on her clitoris and it helped her feel grounded.

“Look at me, Y/n. Watch my face, honey…” he squeezed her hip to get her attention and she opened her eyes up right away. Looking at him as he slowly pushed past her tight muscle and continued to circle her clit with his thumb.

She could see how good it felt for him as he got deeper inside of her, his mouth parted, his brows scrunched. But to her, it didn’t feel as bad as she thought it would. She was old enough that her hymen was probably broken by now and even though she’d never even put a tampon inside of her, she’d ridden horses and bikes and was aware that activities like that, along with just naturally moving day to day over the years that it would mean her vagina would be rid of its hymen lining.

Harry went very slowly. He could feel how tight she was but her arousal was drenching him and making it hard not to just pound into her right away. He knew she could take it. Her body was ready. But he didn’t want to startle her or scare her. So he only pushed in as slowly as possible and kept watch of her face.

He pulled himself out to almost the tip and then nudged his thick cock back inside a little deeper this time and she moaned. Harry smiled. She liked it. It felt good.

He repeated his actions a few times, getting a little deeper on each thrust, but still going as slow as possible until she was panting and her eyes were wide.

“How does that feel angel?” Harry breathed his words out.

She lifted her neck and looked down to where he was fucking into her and she nodded before putting her head back down, “So good. It feels really good.”

This was Harry’s cue to begin fucking her properly. Not hard, or fast, but now he could begin thrusting into her at a pace that might get her off. He began to pull back and push in, watching her pussy spread for him and her lips surround his cock with each pull and push. It was wet and the sound was delicious, “Hear that?” Harry said as he slowly pushed in and pulled out, the wet noise of his cock thrusting into her entrance and pulling back was not something she expected. But she could hear the wet noises coming from between their bodies.

She nodded, “Yeah. Is that because I’m so wet for you?”

Harry groaned and smiled, her words were dirty and she didn’t even know it, “That’s exactly what that is my angel. Your little pussy is soaked because she’s so aroused and that makes it easy for my cock to slip right in and out the way you need. Like this…” he demonstrated by pushed into the hilt, and then backing out until he could see his tip before pushing back in, the sticky sound of their bodies coming together.

His cadence increased a small bit and it made her body move on each press inward, her tits softly bouncing at each plunge of his cock. The wet sounds were now met with the sound of Harry’s skin meeting her skin, the soft smacking of their bodies colliding, and the rustle of the blankets below them.

Y/n’s moans began to get louder again like they had when he ate her out and fucked her with his fingers. She felt good and that’s all he wanted. To make her feel good and safe.

“Oh god…” her eyes widened and her pink lips puffed out a heavy breath, “that’s good… so full…” her panted words were music to Harry’s ears. She was feeling what he was feeling and she was saying what she wanted as her brain and body were naturally responding to sex the way it should when it felt good.

“Yeah, baby? Am I stuffing you full? Feels so good doesn’t it?” Harry continued his languid strokes into her, smacking into her gently, continuing to rub her clit softly.

“Yes. Yes… oh yes…” she breathed out in gasps, “So full, so good… mmmm….” She brought her hands down to grasp his thighs where he was working himself into her. She felt his strong muscles under her hands, flexing as he rolled into her.

“You’re made for me, angel. You know that? Gonna make you mine in every way…” he moaned as he rocked into her, imagining her dripping with his come and then becoming pregnant and swollen with his baby.

Y/n nodded and bit her lip as she bucked upward into his thumb and whimpered when Harry couldn’t help himself and he plunged into her a little harder, a little faster.

Now he was smacking into her harder, sending her body upward with each deep stroke. It felt good inside of her. His prick was filling her and rubbing into something inside that felt like rainbows and stars and all things good and right. She couldn’t stop her moans or the noises she was making. Harry was making her feel better than she’d ever felt in her life.

“That’s it, angel… just feel it. Let it take over,” Harry watched her body and her face as he fucked into her a little harder now. He couldn’t help himself but to go in deeper and harder. She was feeling so good around him and she liked it so he knew he could poke deep into her and she’d like it.

Harry continued rubbing over her button and looked down to where they were connected, his cock was wet with her creamy arousal. She’d gotten his groin soaked, down her ass and to the bed below. Harry groaned at the site of his cock moving into her and spreading her apart. He knew his cock was pushing her insides apart, pressing deep into her belly and rubbing over her g-spot on each stroke. Her eyes were almost crossed as her mouth was dropped open with constant mewls and moans falling from her mouth.

“So pretty… look at you, shit…” Harry was losing it. She was clenching and pulsing around him as her legs started to shake slightly.

Harry went in hard now, he couldn’t help it. Now he was acting on primal tendencies to push her over the edge so she could come and so he could come. He wanted to destroy her insides (in the kindest way of course) with his big cock. She was taking him so well and he knew she was so close to coming.

Y/n’s breasts shook and bounced, the sound of the thuds of skin and wetness together with her loud moans could be heard down the hallway of his mansion. He knew his house staff was hearing this but he didn’t care at that moment. He only cared about making Y/n come.

When she clenched hard and he felt her pussy spasm and she cried out his name, “Oh god! Harry! I’m… oh… oh… I’m…” her words were nonsense suddenly as she melted on his cock and spasmed around him, her legs shaking and her world spinning. She grabbed her tits and squeezed for something to hold on to as she gushed over Harry’s cock and he continued fucking into her, giving her the best experience she could have; a nice thick cock pushing into and pulling out of her fluttering walls as she came, her muscles clamping down on him with all she had.

Harry gritted his teeth as he watched his angel coming on his cock as he sunk into her deeply and finally released in his own orgasm, his cum coating her walls and her slick muscles inside as she quivered and cried. His throbbing cock pumped into her, stuffed as far as it could go inside as he groaned and pushed upward, connecting them so fully and deeply that he knew she’d never want anyone else. He’d make sure of that.

When his balls were emptied and everything was poured into her cunt and her breathing began to slow Harry kissed her lips softly and slowly before pulling out of her.

He held her thighs apart and watched as his come dripped from her pussy down over her ass. He scooped up a bit of his liquid and brought it back up to her pussy, rubbing it over her labia and then pushing it back in slowly.

Harry couldn’t get enough of the view. It was so pretty and soft and lewd. Their juices mixed together over her pussy and now inside of her pussy…

“How do you feel?” Harry looked up at Y/n and she was smiling, red in the cheeks, her chest flushed, hair messy, “Happy.”

This made Harry smile. He wanted her happy and feeling good. He smoothed his hands up her hips over her tummy, wrapping them around to her back, and pulled her up and into his arms, “Good. I’m going to make sure you stay that way. Always want you to be happy with me,” he kissed her temple and smiled.

“My good girl.”

The Check-in*

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lilac-5ky · 10 months

Text

Sex with a Ghost (TojixFem!Reader)

Chapter 1: Date with a ghost

Chapter 2 | Story Masterlist | Masterlist | Requests | AO3

Summary: Being at the bottom of the ladder in your class with a non-combat oriented technique, you are prompted by Gojo to summon a dead sorcerer as a learning experience. However, when none other than Fushiguro Toji appears in your room, you find yourself practicing more than just your cursed technique.

Tags: Student!reader, Ghost!Toji, Age Gap(reader 18, Toji early 30s), Oral Sex (both f. and m. receiving), Manipulation, Corruption Kink, Praise, Degradation, Pet Names (princess, baby, etc), Cowgirl, Toji being a horny asshole that gets redeemed at the end? Sort of.

Word Count: less than 6k.

“But, sensei, is this really necessary?”

You tilted the sphere between your fingers, sizing it up. It weighed no more than a baseball ball did, yet its price must be comparable to that of an entire stadium. A cursed item among cursed items given to a mere grade 3 sorcerer who barely stood out amidst the renowned prodigies of Tokyo Jujutsu High. This was a waste of both time and effort and yet the white-haired man before you begged to differ, eyes glinting a vibrant sky-blue hue from underneath his dark shades.

“Doubting your favorite teacher, Y/N?” he chuckled only to sulk a second later when you asked him what deluded him into thinking he was your favorite.

Undeterred, he continued “I feel like a broken record here, but do yourself a favor and have a bit more confidence. Graduation is two months away, don’t you wanna prove your worth till then? It’s not too late to climb a couple of steps up the ladder. You could easily shoot up to Grade 2. Look at the rest of your class—”

A firm albeit reassuring grip latched itself onto your shoulder, gently twisting you in the direction of your classmates.

The heatwave must have gotten to them for good, blood boiling under the vicious sun rays. Their sleeves and pants were rolled high above their elbows and knees respectively, foreheads glimmering with a thin sheen of sweat that dribbled down their necks.

Just looking at them made your skin crawl with uneasiness.

You didn’t understand why anyone in their right mind would willingly trade the shade of these blessed pine trees for the scorching furnace that the schoolyard was, but when you stopped paying attention to their clothes and took in their blissful expression, you felt a lump swell in your throat.

The two of them were practically beaming, giggling, and prancing around the water fountains without a care in the world— and why should they have anything to worry about when they were Grade 1 at seventeen? A Kamo and a distant cousin to the Zen’ins, both guaranteed to walk a path strewn with rose petals since birth. No trial or tribulation whatsoever.

Your teacher’s voice was muffled into white noise while you were busy shooting daggers at the duo, part of you wishing to join them in their harmless idiocy, and another silently praying that in your next life, you’d be lucky enough to be born into one of their clans. No one questioned the value of a Kamo. No one went against a Zen’in with an inherited technique.

“So, we good? Tell me I didn’t waste 15 minutes of my precious time for nothing.” His fingers squeezed at your shoulder, causing your attention to shift.

You had no idea what he’d been saying, though you’d sat through plenty of pep talks already to guess the gist of it. “You have potential, Y/N. Don’t bring yourself down like this. You can do it!” All empty words without real meaning. Worthless. Not everyone had what it takes to become the next Gojo Satoru. Some people were born to be stepping stones for others, and you were perfectly fine with it. No half-assed aspiration would spur you on.

“If I do this… will you leave me alone?”

A Cheshire cat grin spanned from one corner of his mouth to the other. If one didn’t know any better, they’d mistake Gojo for an overzealous teacher whose earnest goal was to see his students succeed. Not you. You’d spent enough time in his presence to know that his whole “Teacher of the Year” shtick hid an agenda of its own. It was a matter of time to find out what his true motive was.

“What’s the plan?”

“Now we are talking,” he sang in glee. “Very simple, really. You just hold this between your palms and channel as much cursed energy as possible to its center. The ball will absorb it like a magnet and continue drawing from you until you have a clear picture of your target. Then, assuming all goes well and you don’t pass out,” a quiet “What?!” was overwritten by his voice, “you’ll get your very own date with a spirit. Isn’t that exciting?”

Nothing about your expression screamed excitement, eyes squinting in slits and bottom lip quivering into a frown. “And who’s my target, exactly?”

“A Zen’in sorcerer,” he said.

“A Zen’in sorcerer you say,” your eyes wandered again to that soaked blockhead in the distance, the black mop he had for hair flapping left and right. “Ain’t the one over there good enough?”

Shaping a cone around his mouth, Gojo yelled at the top of his lungs for the kids to wait up so they could play together. The duo cheered excitedly, shouting some sort of inside joke you knew nothing about right back at him. Wasn’t the first time you were excluded, and it certainly wasn’t the first time you questioned how this man came to be the world’s most talented sorcerer, either.

“If he was, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” his smile softened as he lowered his voice. “The Zen’in I’m talking about has been dead for a little more than a hundred years now. Unfortunately, his name is erased from our logs,” of course it is “but that shouldn’t hinder you too much. He was an immensely powerful sorcerer with a great amount of cursed energy to back his technique up. An anomaly, if you like.”

“What kind of technique?” “The ten shadows technique,” he answered. “Out of all the Shikigami users, he is perhaps the strongest there’s ever been.”

“Stronger than you, sensei?”

The way his nose scrunched made you regret asking, knowing that a haughty declaration was dangling from the tip of his tongue, begging to be unleashed in a never-ending spiel of self-praise.

“And why should I invoke him in particular?” you quickly changed the subject. “I thought our goal was to hone my spirit-channeling technique and increase my cursed energy flow while we’re at it.”

“That we are doin’, but why not kill two birds with one stone? A new ten-shadow user has risen. I’m sure whatever trick that old dog has up his sleeve will be useful to our little Meg—” He feigned a smile of innocence at his slip. “All you gotta do is chit-chat him into giving you some info. Toss in a few compliments, butter him up. Shouldn’t take more than a few words to convince him, spirits are dying to be summoned— Oh well, unfortunate choice of words. What do you say? You’re in?”

Your groan was all the answer he required to beeline straight to the water fountains, his chirpy laugh echoing from afar. This guy, you huffed, examining the crystal ball anew. There was no way out of this. Either you did his bidding or you’d be forced to endure the obnoxious sound of his voice all summer long.

“Couldn’t you have chosen anything more cliche than a crystal ball?” you snarled, convinced he hadn’t heard you.

“Ouija board was already taken,” he warbled unexpectedly, voice meshing with that of your peers as they ran around in circles, dark-colored uniforms turning darker with every splash of water. “Besides, this has a bit of pink in it,” he referred to the rosy shaded base. “Much cuter than a bunch of rusty letters, right?”

You groaned as you shoved the item into your tote bag, making no mistake to talk out loud again as you turned on your heel. A pinch of jealousy punctured your chest, relieved by every step you took away from the scene and away from the fun the three of them were having.

“Looks like we’re having a date with a ghost tonight.”

It was a quarter past twelve when you decided to put that little experiment to work, the coast clear of overbearing parents and annoying little brothers who wanted nothing more than to disrupt your so-called “studying session”. As far as your family was concerned, Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College (Tokyo Jujutsu High for short) was your average educational institution that had somehow recognized the value of your mediocre grades and scouted you when you were still in middle school— no questions asked from either side.

You wouldn’t go as far as to call your own family a bunch of dimwits, but the signs were all there. A teacher merely four years older than you were, his odd sartorial decisions only second to his eccentric personality. A class made up of four students dramatically and suddenly decreasing to a party of three. An unknown man in a suit and tie driving you back and forth between “emergency study dates” in the dead of night. The lack of studying material in your backpack as opposed to the exams you constantly stressed over. Your unreasonable reaction when your mother stored a cursed tool in with the silver cutlery.

Even if you straight up walked to them with a banner that read “I exorcise curses”, you doubted they’d have anything more to say than a plain “Good for you”, not because they were stupid, but because they simply didn’t care at all.

They didn’t care enough to bat an eye when seven-year-old you tugged at daddy’s trousers, whimpering about a squid-like creature sneaking in your closet, and didn’t care enough to try and justify the stream of water flooding down the corridor. They didn’t care that your imaginary friends were more akin to monsters, and they didn’t care about you being away from home 350 days a year. It was convenient not to. That’s how they were able to drink their woes away at the local bar on a Thursday night with a clear conscience, having offloaded that pest of a brother at your grandparents’ for the fifth consecutive night.

Poor kid. If he wasn’t so despicable, your big sister instincts might have kicked in and raised an objection, though as things currently were suited you best. Rituals required focus, and you needed to make sure no one would bust through the door and interrupt your conversation with Mister Whatever-his-name-was.

You’d taken care of all your basic needs —eating a reheated portion of lasagna, cleansing your body of the worldly filth that stained it, catching a rerun of your favorite show’s latest episode, and cursing Gojo for making you miss it in the first place— and were now seated on your room’s floor with the crystal ball nesting between your bare thighs, the cold sensation much welcome on this excruciatingly warm evening where sitting on the fuzzy carpet seemed like the greatest torture imaginable.

It was only March and you were already in your skimpiest outfit of all; a frilly pair of dusty-pink shorts and a matching low-cut tank top dressing your sweat-beaded body. Dark spots saturated the fabric, demanding your fingers fanned it every two seconds. The worst had yet to come. By the time summer arrived, the final thing for you to crawl out of would be your own skin.

Pushing those thoughts aside, you returned to the item at hand. It’d been fairly long since you’d last performed a seance. Your role in the recent assignments was to support your classmates from the sidelines, exorcising whatever lower-grade curse got in their way with the aid of various cursed tools.

The white-haired nuisance could claim your technique was useful all he wanted, but at the end of the day, yours were simply not meant for combat. Best case scenario, after graduation, the higher-ups would put you on a 9 to 5 job, where you could dig whatever intel they wanted from the comfort of your cramped-up desk; away from your haughty classmates, and away from Gojo Satoru.

You rolled your fingers around the globe’s surface, pads tingling with waves of cursed energy as they seeped into the crystal. Slowly, a dark purple aura came to distort its translucence with colors and shapes of various magnitudes. Shadow-like forms gathered at the seams, remnants of pent-up energy colliding and converging with one another at one focal point. All ready to go!

You began mentally chanting the surname of your target, over and over again until the slideshow of foggy faces diminished to that of a select few candidates from the same bloodline. Some, you would imagine had died when they were still in their prime, measly fledglings of sorcerers with eyes retaining that youthful glossiness, while others seemed to have lived enough to see themselves turn into dehydrated raisins with next to zero cursed energy left.

Once you’d gone through your classmate’s entire family tree at least three times, you caught yourself admitting that despite their faults and innate air of pretension, the Zen’ins weren’t particularly hard on the eyes. Especially that one guy whose mug kept reappearing at random intervals, the slanted scar of his lips lingering in your mind well after the next contender’s appearance. There was something about him, be it the lack of aura he emitted or the viridescent hue of his eyes that had you replaying the frame at the expense of your own energy.

You were drawn to him in an inexplicable way that, at the time, you attributed to fate. It had to be him, right? That must have been why the dope you had for a mentor insisted on calling this a date. Even if he didn’t know the sorcerer’s name, he must have known how insanely attractive the guy was, right?

And suddenly, you felt a sliver of gratitude overcome you, eyelids snapping shut with the Zen’in sorcerer’s face as clear as day behind them, while you chanted the incantation Gojo himself had taught you.

“From the murky shroud of oblivion, I invoke thou out the shadows and blight to bask in heavenly light. Through me gain life, and through life gain thine blessed power.”

No more than a few seconds had passed when you heard a thud, your gaze meeting with that of the very man you’d summoned.

The orb barely did him any justice. Not as if crystal balls were ideal measuring instruments, but you’d need about ten more of those to depict his height as he towered over you, the bulky frame of his shoulders casting a large shadow on the wall behind your head. He was dressed in a much more casual manner than one would expect of someone who’d been dead for over a century, with corded veins and taut muscles peaking underneath a black compression shirt, waist accentuated where his hips met with a pair of baggy pants. And once you got to his face— you must have lost track of time staring into the gem-like green orbs of his eyes, considering you didn’t notice the scowl his lips wore until his tone pointed it out.

“The hell is this?” He sounded just like he looked, the bass of his timbre ringing most pleasantly in your ears.

You wouldn’t know what being dead felt like, but if it was anything remotely close to sitting on a dead leg for hours on end, you guessed he’d rather take a moment to adjust over an answer.

His soles circled the tiny space, eyes dancing between the fairy lights on the wall, the moonless sky —and by extension the empty driveway outside your window—, the three Polaroids on your desk that depicted an old family trip to Seoul (your mother silently accusing him from the frame for the crime of wearing his shoes inside the house), and lastly, you. His gaze feasted on your body as if he’d been starved for ages and you were the first oasis in the desert, his expression gradually easing into a lopsided smile as he cocked his head to the side.

“Got a name, sweetheart?” he asked in a syrupy sweet tone, the nickname he’d come up with making you doubt he’d use your actual name even if you shared it.

You set the ball aside and hopped on your feet, standing on somewhat more equal ground, though not equal enough to completely diminish the difference in height. He was massive, and you were still processing the kind of person that possessed the power to end this man’s life.

“Name’s Y/N,” you extended your hand. “You must be master Zen’in, nice to meet you!”

He merely glanced at your gesture, leaving you to embarrass yourself without a single qualm. “No one’s called me that in some time,” he expressed wryly. “You know about me?”

You nodded, wiping your palm against your shorts. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen a spirit act all high and mighty, a Zen’in at that. “Who hasn’t heard of the greatest sorcerer there’s ever been?” you chuckled, Gojo’s bootlicking advice coming in for the clutch. “You are somewhat of a legend in the Jujutsu world. The one who mastered the ten shadows technique like no other.”

“Is that who I am now,” he pondered out loud, his index briefly scratching his jaw. “I guess I am,” he grinned with confidence. “That why you summoned me? Wanted to meet with great ol’ me in person?”

“Something like it,” you admitted, finding it hard not to smile back. “I just so happen to be acquainted with this idiot who’s a big fan of yours. Had me use my technique for a passing grade.”

A low hum prompted you to continue. “He’s a real pain in the ass,” you groaned. “Calls himself ‘the strongest’ and acts as if he’s ‘teacher of the year’ when he forces me to fish out intel like some lackey— Actually, you might have heard of his family name before, they’ve been around for ages. Gojo,” quickly adding “Satoru.”

At the sound of your teacher’s name, the man’s eyes widened, his darkened pupils blown with an emotion akin to rage. You weren’t sure what great calamity the Gojos had brought upon him in his previous life, but being familiar with their descendant you doubted they put much effort into it.

“The six eyes is your teacher?” he asked, not giving you enough time to question how on earth he knew that title before he pitched in another question. “So, ya just a kid, huh?”

“I’m not!” you objected. “Turned 18 a while ago.”

“A while, you say?” he arched a brow.

“I’m closer to 19 if anything,” you crossed your arms over your chest.

“19,” he mocked, his droopy eyelids incapable of hiding the way he sized your figure up.

You didn’t even think to put on a bra before the ritual started. Just like you could vividly picture what his pecs looked like under his clothes, your flimsy outfit left little to the imagination, the sweat that’d shimmered across your collarbones and cleavage working in your favor.

“Nah, you are right. No kid could ever have a body like that. Plump and ripe in all the right places,” his tongue lapped over his bottom lip, salacious stare prodding at what your arms kept hidden. “That’s a woman’s body, no doubt.”

Heat spread from your chest all the way to your cheeks, and for once, it wasn’t because of the room’s overbearing heat. Your toes sunk inside the carpet, thighs awkwardly rubbing together. You’d found yourself in such a position before, yet never with a boy like him— never with a man like him.

“Th-thank you,” you mumbled, your fingers hesitantly sliding down your elbows.

He took a step closer, lacking hesitation as he lifted your chin with two fingers, his thumb gently caressing it.

“Gonna let me look at the rest, baby?” his other hand encompassed your hip, the size of his palm alone making you feel oh-so small and fragile before him. “I’ll make ya a deal if you lemme. Tell ya anything you wanna know and more— heh, I’ll make sure ya pass with flying colors.”

“I don’t… I’m not-”

Depriving you of the chance to deny his advances, the man slotted his lips between yours and pulled back almost instantaneously, overjoyed to catch you leaning into his touch for more.

You weren’t sure why this was happening— why you were letting this happen. He was a stranger who barely qualified as being alive, and at the time of his death, he was closer to your father’s age than yours. But he was there, and he was paying you attention, and the way he spoke to you as if he already knew your answer ahead of your mouth had warmth spiraling to the lower parts of your body.

Rather than giving in to your pouty lips, the man whose name you didn’t even know cupped your breasts in both his hands, calloused thumbs making quick work of your nipples as they peaked below the drenched fabric, rolling the sensitive buds into full hardness.

“Such a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” he praised, kneading at your supple skin almost adoringly.

The straps of your top slid down your shoulders, and you felt the ghost of a smile press onto your neck, his warm mouth smearing wet kisses right to where your neck and shoulders connected. You bit back a sigh, your breath audibly strained.

“Bet you wanna be touched, hmm?” he continued, finding the sweet spot you didn’t know you had, and pressed on, his sharp teeth digging into your flesh coaxing a purr from deep within your throat. He chuckled, the vibrations making you shudder. “That why you’re dressed like a slut? Wanna be treated like one, mm?” his lips parted again, tongue lapping over the delicate bruise his teeth left as he pinched your nipples harshly. A moan was ripped from your slack jaw, the insult he carelessly threw adding to the slick between your thighs.

“Sounds about right,” he smirked. “Well, I’m not complaining. You’re a sight for sore eyes, kitten.”

He didn’t ask for permission before he tugged at your shirt, your breasts spilling out with a single bounce. You saw him wet his lips once more, fingers seizing your now-exposed nipples and lustful eyes admiring them up close. You hadn’t noticed how close he was standing until his hips bucked against yours, alerting you to how painfully hard he’d gotten underneath his pants. The six-year-long refractory period his body was subjected to was far too cruel— though you wouldn’t know about that until much later.

“Tell me,” he requested, pausing just so he could look you dead in the eye. “Have you ever done this before?”

His lips traversed the valley of your breasts, rough palms sliding languidly across your ribs and waist. You could see him hold you like that while being inches deep in you. Slamming your frail little set of bones against your desk’s wooden surface. Pounding your hole for your parents to return to their precious daughter bent in half by some stranger. Bruising Gojo’s star student until the smug smile was wiped from his obnoxious mouth for good.

All those reasons made you nod at his question, not caring that he’d be ten times rougher because of your white lie. If anything, you looked forward to that.

“Sure you’re not lying to me?” he read your mind like an open book, the elastic of your shorts being torn away from your body. “Won’t be mad if y’are. I love myself a sweet little virgin. Love how whiny their voices get. How,” he lowered himself onto his knees, palm pushing you to sit on your bed “cute their little tight cunts look all stretched around me.”

His hot breath fanned over your soaked panties, index lazily rubbing back and forth between your clothed slit, the added friction sending a pleasurable tingle up your spine.

“You really aren’t one, are ya?”

You shook your head repeatedly like a bobblehead doll, propping your weight onto your elbows as he lifted your legs on his shoulders, the reality of his choppy raven hair nuzzling to your thighs finally hitting you.

“You said all you wanted to do was look, right?” the finger that was hooked around your underwear stopped. “That was the deal…”

For a brief yet conscious second, his eyes bore into yours with such spite that you thought you’d completely messed up. Only a virgin would dare say something this stupid. If he wasn’t bound to you by the ritual, he’d be out the door the moment you spat those words, you knew it, but then his knuckles brushed over your abdomen to find the hand that clenched onto the sheets, and you realized that wasn’t the case.

“Deals get altered and terms renewed all the time,” he mumbled distractedly, deeply inhaling your scent on his nose, while your fingers unfolded between his lips. You gasped, the sight of him fucking them in and out his mouth —tongue slithering right in the middle and saliva dribbling down his chin as he popped them out— enough to hypnotize whatever sense out of your brain.

“I’ll make ya a new deal,” he hummed, gently directing them to your mouth as if he beckoned you to do the same. A smirk tugged at his scar as he watched your pink lips obediently part and round around your own fingers. He didn’t let go until he heard you choke, secretly plotting to replace them with something else—sooner, than later.

“My technique is what interests you, right? How about instead of telling you, I show you?”

You tried to remove your hand, but he shoved it back in, his true colors pouring into a devilish smile. “I’ve had enough of your voice. All you gotta do is sit back like the good little girl I know you are and keep your legs nice and spread for me. How’s that?”

The only thing your head could manage was pathetically bob up and down in agreement, your fingers stuck in your mouth like a damn pacifier, while your cunt pulsed at every single word he uttered; derogatory or not. Were it any other guy talking down to you like that, your knuckles would be leaving an impermanent imprint on his cheek. Were it any other guy treating you as if you had no volition of your own as if you were just a toy for him to break, and you—

There wouldn’t be any other guy for you ever again. He’d make sure of it.

He ripped the fabric into a single shred and tossed it over his shoulder without caring where it landed- your bedside lamp. He looked down at your pussy, debating to himself whether to start with his tongue or fingers first, calculating the time it’d take for him to prep you for his cock down to the last second. He might’ve been a lot less nice than he pretended to be, but he wasn’t about to go out of his way to hurt you. Not intentionally, at least.

“Let’s see,” he tipped forward, the way his forefinger slipped between your folds without any resistance whatsoever bringing you shame. It didn’t go unnoticed by him, his digit triumphantly pulling out and smearing your slick all over your puffy lips. “Is that all for me, sweetheart? So fucking wet just for me?”

Your hips bucked forward as an answer to his question and he thought he wouldn’t mind taking things slow for once— see how much you could take before you came completely undone.

“Girls like you make the best fuck,” he cooed, voice echoing right through your core. “Surrendering to the first sweet word they hear.” His thumb circled your clit, flicking at the little bundle of nerves. “Leaking at the slightest of touch.” His middle and ring fingers joined in the action, burying themselves as far inside walls as your tight hole let him push. “Breaking so easily.” He drooled, coating your entire pussy in his thick saliva before allowing himself a taste, tongue lapping at the mix of juices straight from the source.

Your thighs clenched around him, muffling the lewdness of a whimper as he looked up at you, his smirk loosening with every kitten lick across your flesh. You wanted to say something, to call out his name and moan for him, but it all felt so unpracticed— similarly to how unpracticed your cunt was when it came to the girth of his fingers; much bigger than yours, more experienced too. He reached depths you didn’t know existed, bringing your body such pleasure that had you writhing for more, hips slamming against his face.

He groaned, his own arousal throbbing against his lower abdomen, begging him to get this over with. “Wanna fuck my face, baby?”

You felt your cheeks ignite anew, the eyes you’d fallen for at first sight overflowing with lust, convincing you it felt as good for him as it felt for you.

“Can’t let ya do that,” he parted your folds, fingers spreading your thighs apart while his tongue darted between your lips, his nose intentionally nudging the pink nub with each deep stroke against your spongy spot. “Gotta earn it first.”

You stared at him like an idiot, wondering to yourself if somewhere between his refusal to shake your hand and his eagerness to quench his thirst with your body you’d passed away because that was what heaven ought to feel like. That was what angels ought to look like.

“Got something to say, princess?” his eyes shot up and he gestured for you to unlatch your mouth.

“S-so pretty,” you whispered.

“What was that?” his ears perked up, not because he hadn’t heard you the first time, but because he could do with some affirmation himself.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this… f-fuck—” a yelp punched its way out of your lungs as he folded you in half, pinning your thighs onto your stomach, and crawling onto the bed right after them.

He’d had enough of this little game.

“Good girls shouldn’t cuss like that. Six eyes didn’t teach ya that?”

Holding you down with one hand, he dived back into your pussy, his fingers pumping in and out of you at a furious pace that had your upper body tossing and turning, the first unregulated moans ushering him to keep going. His tongue toyed with your swollen bud, the squelching of your cunt growing significantly louder from this angle, reverberating throughout the four walls of your bedroom. You were close, and so was he to getting his dick wet with all the mess he’d helped create.

His mouth watered just at the thought of his seed being the one to dribble down your thighs instead of his spit. He could picture you in one of those cute blue-navy skirts hanging from your closet and hoped you weren’t a tights person. He wanted to see you off to school every morning with your thighs sticking together so deliciously that anyone smart enough would understand how meticulously he’d fucked the brat out of you—

If only there was a mirror for you to see how stunning you looked. All fucked out and writhing, disheveled hair stuck on your tits and forehead while you nuzzled to the pillows, your shaky voice calling out to the surname he’d left behind. Would you still do that if you knew he played you like a fiddle? If you knew he was no esteemed Zen’in or sorcerer, for that matter, but a man hell-bent on ruining you for his own sick satisfaction?

Your body reciprocated his vile thoughts, your pussy fluttering around his digits. “Gonna cum for me?” he panted, forcing your legs to the side lest he missed a reaction.

Neither of you realized how his one hand had sneaked into his pants, stroking his veiny cock closer to the ecstasy he craved. Precum leaked hot out of the reddened tip, his thumb frantically swiping it over his length in sync with his thrusts. He’d stopped listening to your pleas and instructions. He fucked his fingers in you as he pleased, slowing down only when his balls began to dangerously tighten. Only then did he tear his fingers away ‘cause God forbid he busts his load in his palm like some fucking untouched teenager— regardless of how obscenely pretty you appeared for him or not.

Once he regained his composure, words made sense again. Harder. Faster. More. He hated being told what to do but absolutely loved how pliant you were. A people-pleaser, he bet. Going above and beyond what was asked of you, bending and breaking into whatever molds others force you to fit. He could work with that. Shape you into a mold only he could fit in.

“Cum for me, baby. Show me how much prettier y’ can get.”

His cock twitched as he felt your walls clamp down around his fingers, your sweet face contorting with pleasure, lips swollen with how hard they’d tried to contain the last bits of debouched decency.

How cute.

He set your legs down and moved up to meet your face with his, a wave of genuine softness rushing over him as he thought to kiss your lips tenderly, hushing whatever emotion had you spasming. You were so sensitive. Even if you’d been with another guy before him, he doubted they knew what they were doing— not like he did, anyway. He’d make you scream out his name for the neighbors to hear what a dirty slut lived just next door from them.

After a short while of his stroking your hair and whispering filth into your ears, he decided he’d been good enough to get his trick. He took your hand in his and guided it to his cock, grinning like a little kid as your smaller palm traced the outline over his pants, knowing full well both hands would do nothing to cover his girth.

He’d really missed this— so much that he didn’t mind letting a grunt out in appreciation, certain that more would follow.

Your eyes met, the spark in them telling him you understood what he expected you to do, and even if you didn’t, he’d teach you. He’d teach you everything, snatch you from that piece of shit and make you into his star student, so long as you kept touching him and let him do all the things he’d spent the last thirty minutes fantasizing about.

Everything and anything, all for you to take—

The thoughts that failed to reach your ears along with all traces of the man whose weight alone -up until a moment ago- threatened to crush your body into a fine powder evaporated, the smooth sound of his voice replaced by the crude breaks of your father’s car as he pulled into the driveway— your mother’s kitten heels soon clicking atop every step they climbed.

Shit.

A/N: I actually intended for this to be a one-shot, but I guess it sort of ended on a cliffhanger so, oops. Lemme know if I should write a second and final part, or if you have any Toji ideas/requests ♡

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mayullla · 8 months

Note

Yandere Ayato 🦋🌸 please and thank you 😊

Title: You continued to look for him

Character(s): Ayato (Genshin Impact) Summary: You could not help but hope that you would be able to meet your fated soulmate. Yet that never happened and you wed the Yashiro Commissioner. You should have given up on soulmates then, but you didn't. Warnings/tags: Yandere themes, Fem!reader, soulmate au (same tattoos), arranged marriage au, manipulation, toxic parents, implied murder

[ - A little present~! Event - Closed - ]

Fated love, in your world, was something like marks on the skin that you were born with. A patterned birthmark that was unique to only you and one other person who was your soulmate.

There was a special connection between both people, the deeper the love the more profound the shade, it was a pride to some lovers, because a mark never lies. Most lovers could rest assured that they have each other in their hearts, however if one side dies, their birthmark will become lighter... less obvious on the skin.

Gone as if they were never there. What felt like only a dream… meeting their soulmate, marrying, and living happily ever after life whatever that dream was has come to an end. But for many aristocratic families, it was common practice to marry out of benefits or money rather than something like fate.

You were born into aristocracy and were expected the same.

Even when everyone saw that little birthmark on your wrist right under your palm, it was either ignored by most or stared with pity for the more sympathetic ones. But they too ultimately ignored it, unable to help you.

Your parents found your birthmark to be a nuisance. If it was somewhere else on the body less obvious, then it would have been far better in their eyes. If you didn't have any from the start, it was the most ideal situation.

But it was not the case, and they could only make do with forcing you to wear gloves whenever you go out or when you were in their eyesight.

You grew up being told that this birthmark means nothing in nobility. Your parents made sure that you didn't get any ideas banning others from talking about it in front of you. Yet you listened, listened to the stories from maids who didn't think others were looking... listening to their little stories and gasps.

A word about it never left your lips about this sensitive topic, it was obvious that your parents would never care if you had found your soulmate. They wouldn't have let you meet him if he was of commoner status or worse shout and yell in anger if he was poor. But you always had this naive hope, there was a happy ending waiting for you.

However, that never arrived, as you wed another man arranged by your parents. They were full of glee and greed when they heard that the head of the Kamisato clan took an interest in you, ecstatic when he had sent a proposal. You watched from the corner of the room as you glanced down at your wrist, your birthmark hidden under the gloves you were forced to wear.

"It seems that you are disappointed." Kamisato Ayato, your fiance touched your cheek lightly when you stared at your wrist for too long, a solemn look on his face. You could see what he would ask next but before he could speak you didn't let him.

You shook your head at his words.

In the garden of the Kamisato estate you and him looked at the waters of Inazuma, "I am only doing what was expected of me. I will become your wife." You told him, leaning in his hand as if to show him affection, that you were willing to do this.

From that moment you should have thrown those silent hopes and dreams away. From the moment it became official that you and he were husband and wife, you should have thrown any thoughts of meeting the person you were supposed to be fated to. That from now on you belonged to someone else.

Ayato was a kind man, you thought. People had many things to say about him. He was hard-working, dutiful, smart and caring. He fulfilled his role as your husband. You were never in need, whether that be food or clothes, instead, you were spoiled as he gifted and dressed you with the finest luxuries that others could only wish to have. He was affectionate, always taking at least a little time off each day to stay by your side. You felt like he thought of you as his equal, a part of him instead of someone foreign, or a sort of trophy. He may not have been your fated partner, but he loved and cherished you nonetheless.

You should have been satisfied with what you have. You should have thrown all those feelings away, yet you were still so curious, eyes still lingering at your wrist when you zoned out in thought. He was alive that much you knew, you knew he was out there somewhere. Was he also curious as to who you were? What would you and he do when you found each other when you were married to another man.

You fulfilled your duties as the Kamisato head's wife. You showed respect to your husband as the leader. But there was a distant feeling that was never mentioned between you and Ayato. A kind of invisible wall that you unconsciously placed. Guilt ate you when you realize that your husband knew of it.

He stayed quiet, never complaining, never accusing as he continued to show affection towards you, as his wife. Everyone saw his love for you, and you heard from others and knew how loving he was as a husband. That he only had eyes for you. You would smile and blush flustered at their words but it felt more akin to stabs at your conscience.

Looking at the falling rain under the umbrella, the tapping sounds when the water drops hit the umbrella shield was relaxing as you took a stroll. Many of the servants tried to discourage you from going out worried that you may get wet, yet you told them you wished to follow Thoma to the market rather than stay home. They relented after a while, Thoma was kind enough to help you out stating that he would protect and help you if something bad were to actually happen.

Reaching the market you watched as people walked along the street, most holding their own umbrellas, others running with a hand or newspaper over their heads or hiding under shelters waiting for the rain to stop. Your mind was elsewhere as you waited for Thoma to buy all the ingredients for tonight's dinner.

Till you saw him.

Many say that it was as if the world had stopped for a moment when soulmates saw each other for the first time. A surreal experience, as you realize that the other person was the one. You could not breathe for a moment, frozen in place, eyes wide as you watched him march past you never noticing your stare. A soldier, based on his uniform but you saw the birthmark on his wrist that was holding his umbrella.

You wanted to stop him, you wanted to see him just once. Get a good look at the man who was supposed to be your fated partner. Talk to him just once to see what it would look like in your future if you married him. What was it like? Where would you be? So many questions consumed your thoughts but something was keeping you still. It was hard to move, hard to even breathe as you unconsciously counted the time, knowing that every second he was getting farther and farther away from you.

However you could not do anything.

A hand placed itself on your shoulder, snapping you back to reality. Time returned back to its normal pace. The umbrella that was on your hand was on the floor and cold were the droplets that hit your hair and your face, soon covered by an umbrella that wasn't yours.

"Are you okay?"

He called out your name, a familiar deep voice. Concerned eyes looked at you questioning why you had been standing in the rain like that. Ayato covered you with his own umbrella bringing you closer to him to shield you from getting any more wet. Words didn't come out for a moment, rendered speechless. You looked away from your husband towards where your fated partner was but the crowd had taken him away from you as you could not see him anymore.

You felt like your heart dropped and shattered into pieces till you felt a warm hand touch your cheek. Looking at the pale hand you looked up to your husband who looked at you in worry. "Do you have a fever? Hmmm... you are cold..." Ayato asked, mumbling the latter part as he moved his hand to your forehead. Some stared at you guys but continued on with their day while others mainly the elderly cooed at such a lovely couple.

"... No..." you told him, shaking your head as you looked down. It was impossible to look him in the eyes. "I am fine. I apologize… I do not know what came over me."

It was hard to think of any excuses...

He looked at you for a moment, the silence dragging on as you wondered if he actually believed you. Yet instead of a reply, you were suddenly covered with a coat too big to be yours. Looking up at your husband surprised he just moved you closer to him. "It seems like you had a long day, dear." He spoke in a soft tone, "Come. Let's get you home."

Telling Thoma who just came back from haggling with the vendors to grab your umbrella, you guys went back in the direction of the Kamisato estate. You looked nowhere but in front of you, hurried to quickly escape this situation. You didn't see your husband glance back at the crowd, his eyes trailing at someone's form.

Ayato always loved you, long before the marriage arrangement that he and your parents made. But it seemed that fate was not kind to him when he found out that you had a soulmate birthmark on your wrist while he had none.

However he knew as nobles, it was rare that one would be able to marry their fated lover as marriage was often mixed in with greed, gains, and benefits. Your parents were just the same, they looked at what they could gain while you were nothing more than one of their pawns. It was easy to sign a contract with them where he gave something that did not benefit him at all for your hand in marriage.

He didn't feel an ounce of guilt in the first meeting when you glanced at his wrist with a little bit of hope in your eyes only to dull when you found nothing. Rather it annoyed him more than anything but he knew that with time you would fall in love with him too even without a tattoo. He had already shackled you from ever leaving him too easily with marriage. And while it might take a little while you would return your feelings to him he was patient with you and gave you everything even when you placed this invisible wall between you and him.

It was slow, but he knew he was getting there. When you looked at him with those guilty eyes and tried to every so often show him the same affection he showered you with, only time would make it more genuine but a little push could never hurt anyone. It was a little later he found out who was your soulmate. An ordinary soldier, one of many and nothing special. This was just the last step till he finally had you in his grasp. Your conscious was still tilting one side to the other, telling yourself to leave those fantasies behind, with this you could finally make your decision.

Just one more step till you fall into his arms, in tears as the birthmark on your wrist slowly faded signaling the death of your soulmate. Till you finally give your heart to him, with nothing holding yourself back.

Only time was needed now till you finally become wholly his.

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peachsayshi · 1 year

Text

by your side.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ gojo x female reader ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

summary: gojo returns home after an exhausting two month trip away from you.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

notes: I’m so h*rny for this man & that tight black tee of his this is my contribution to celebrate satoru gojo and satoru gojo only <3 you can find my other yan gojo posts: here & here.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: yandere; lovesick/obsessed/needy gojo; sleepy satoru; oral (f receiving); edging; dub con (ish?); pussy drunk satoru 👀; size kink; dacryphilia

“Missed you,” Satoru exhales with a strained voice, his long fingers unfastening the knot around your waist, similarly to how you removed the white ribbon of the present he gifted you earlier this evening.

The elder jujutsu sorcerers frustrated him with too many problems during his isolation period away from you, binding him with the shackles of responsibilities that he never asked for.

Exchanging phone calls, text messages and videos with you wasn’t enough enough to fill the empty void in his heart. Only now, as he smooths down the silk fabric of your robe, does Satoru understand how terribly deprived he’s been.

How did he survive these last two months without you?

“I missed you so much, my sweet girl”

His words are laced with anguish and his pupils dilate at your soft skin peeking out from under your attire. He pulls the material away from you, watching carefully as it ripples off your body like water.

Around your neck is the present that he bought for you; a string of white gold links draping down your clavicle with a heart shaped pendant resting just above your chest. He nips at his bottom lip, considering the idea of adorning you in even more jewelry.

Two sparkling studs for your ears, maybe...a charm bracelet to compliment a pretty anklet... a band that would look complete around your ring finger...

The image makes his dick twitch.

You’re looking up at him from underneath your lashes, shying away from his intense gaze and drifting down to his muscular torso looking snug in his black fitted tee. All of a sudden your bed feels much smaller with him there, and a tingle ascends up your spine when he curves his strong arm behind your waist. The force of his weight pushes you down onto the soft pillows behind you. His limbs taking up most of the mattress, leaving you pinned underneath the expanse of his chest.

You’ve forgotten how quickly he makes your heart race. You’re still adjusting to this - getting used to the status of being his girl.

He tenderly touches his forehead to yours, a reminder of why the claim shouldn’t make you feel like a frightened kitten trapped in a wolf’s den.

Those words are pure devotion now, an affirmation of his love towards you. There are many who dream about basking in its abundance, and here you are greedily indulging for free.

Being loved by him is an honor that you have been pleasantly awarded.

You tilt your chin up to brush your mouth over his, initiating the first kiss with a chaste peck against his pink lips before leaning back to look into the depths of his blue eyes.

He’s exhausted, you can tell, the bright color of his irises are muted and his mouth is twisting downward in a subtle frown. You know for a fact that he carries many burdens as the head of his clan and the strongest sorcerer, but what’s unsettling you is the sullen expression overwhelming his handsome face since his arrival.

“I thought you would be happy to see me,” you state quite matter of factly, swiping your thumb over the blush blooming underneath his pale skin.

Satoru leans into your touch, resting his cheek comfortably in the palm of your hand, and you can’t help but think how angelic he looks this way.

“I am, it’s just...I really, really hated being away from you,” he confesses through gritted teeth.

You brush off the spark of nerves reacting to the visible sickness on his face, and trail your index finger down the bridge of his nose. “You’re home now,” you coo as you circle your arms around his neck, “I’m happy that you’re back.”

His shoulders relax almost immediately, and he buries his relieved smile in the crook of your neck. “Yeah?” he mumbles into your skin. “That’s nice to hear.”

The sensation feels ticklish, but your giggle is quickly replaced by quiet pants as Satoru leaves a trail of kisses down your torso. His large palms find the back of your knees, and he lowers himself while spreading you apart so he can comfortably rest between your legs. The hand on your left leg curls around your ankle and he adjusts your position by bending your knee at a perfect angle. Meanwhile, his other hand lifts up your right leg, exposing the back of your thigh which he litters with tiny kisses and gentle nibbles.

“You don’t know...” he mumbles, “you don’t know how hard it is for me being away from you, it’s...” he interrupts once more, smooching your plush skin, “it’s unbearable...”

His feathery admission gives you no comfort. Worry twists around your belly, caught between the grips of fright and excitement. A part of you refuses to believe that he is truly helpless without you around. However, it’s battling with your ego that’s showering with pride over the fact that this man would bend at your every will.

Satoru presses his nose up against your clothed cunt to inhale your scent. The tension on his face dissipates, but his grip around your ankle tightens as he kisses you over the white cotton fabric.

“M’here, Toru...” you soothe, threading your fingers through the frosty strands framing his facing, and pushing back his hair. “Here just for you”

He releases an exaggerated sigh, “I feel so much better when we are together...” he admits, pressing his index finger up against the outline of your slit and rubbing over the damp patch that he formed with his tongue, “...when we are close like this.”

You don't believe he’s lying. As a matter of fact, Satoru is honest to a fault when expressing his feelings about you.

You think it’s detrimental for a person to be this dependent, but your mind always finds a reason to rationalize his perspective.

Maybe it’s because you love him…or maybe it’s because he’s successfully bulldozed his way into your life that he now occupies every territory, making it impossible for you to turn anywhere catching a glimpse of his shadow.

You swallow the lump in your throat.

You don’t want to dissect these unsettling ideas, afraid of what your mind would reveal to you in the process.

Instead, you allow yourself to relax as your lover pulls aside your underwear to expose your pussy. He lightly rubs his thumb over your ankle, keeping you in place for him before placing a sweet kiss on your clit. You slowly massage his scalp as a gesture of encouragement, and whimper quietly when he flicks the tip of his tongue along the nub.

Your right leg lazily falls over his broad shoulder when he releases his hold, your eyelids growing heavy feeling the stroke of his velvety tongue drag down.

Satoru eats you out for his own pleasure, and the man is starved having not tasted you for months.

He keeps you in this position long enough for you to feel like the room is spinning. You’re lightheaded, delirious, with the way he softly and slowly devours your cunt and slurps your arousal. The sound of tender smacks and his deep humming moans echo around you, and your hips buck against his mouth from how sensual he sounds.

The brewing heat numbs you from the top of the head down to the tips of your toes, it’s burning so low that you’re desperate to prod the embers just to stir the flame. You lick your lip feverishly, tasting the saltiness of sweat and jab your heel into his back, but the pressure feels like nothing to him.

Satoru doesn’t waver or pick up the pace because he’s savoring you down to the very last drop, and he looks so content with your slick dribbling down his chin. He goes deeper, pushing his tongue further inside you as he compresses his nose into your clit. The added pressure makes you choke out a pathetic whine, provoking your exasperation and your thighs start to quiver uncontrollably.

You’re relying on your movements, grinding your hips out of desperation in the hopes to finally snap the rubber band of your pleasure that’s being stretched to its limit.

“mmph...t-toru?...” you mewl as tears prick your lovely eyes. “toru?”

“Hmm?” a deep voice replies, and Satoru slowly wriggles his nose as he continues to lazily fuck you with his tongue.

“Satoru, I-...ah!” you yelp, finally grabbing his attention as you roughly yank his hair.

He groans with annoyance, but slows down his movements. To your dismay, he doesn’t completely pull away and instead returns back to your sensitive clit. He languidly rolls his tongue over it, licking and sucking the overstimulated bud that the tears start to fall.

“I can’t take this...I can’t take this...” you sniffle, easing your hold as you try to push his head away. “need to cum, wanna cum so bad...”

Only then does he look up from the mess between your legs, strings of your slick catch onto his chin and you contemplate how unjust it is that he looks this beautiful, contemplate how unfair it is that you are meant to temper your sinful thoughts around a man who is Adonis incarnate.

His hazy eyes blink away his dream like trance, and you can see his senses returning back to the present. He arches his brow with slight amusement at your flustered expression but maintains an innocent tone when he replying.

“I got a little carried away...” he states before placing an apologetic kiss on your lower tummy. “Not enough for you, huh?”

You pout slightly and shake your head no, attempting to lift yourself up on your forearms despite your shoulders trembling from how frail your body feels tipping so close to the edge.

Satoru envelopes you in the protection of his embrace. He kisses you deeply, and you can taste yourself on his tongue and over his lips. He molds into your frame and your body lights up with sparks feeling how stiff the length of his hard cock feels as he delicately ruts his hips over yours.

You moan with every calculative thrust, spread your legs wide enough to feel his impressive bulge rub against you.

God, it makes you want to ride him senseless.

You’re yearning to have him inside you.

He pulls away from the sloppy, wet kiss then eases the grind of his hips as he pecks your cheek and jawline. He wriggles down, stopping to suckle on the tips of your pointed nipples and your heart stops when you realize that he still has no intention of making you cum yet.

“Toru, please...” you beg when he returns to his previous position, a gasp following your plea as he buries two fingers inside you.

“I’m feeling much better, baby, I love you s’much...” he reassures, a wicked grin tickling the corners of his mouth as he steadily drags his digits back and forth, “I promise I’ll fill you right up…just need to make up for some lost time, kay?”

The blood drains from your face, and you realize that you’re completely at his mercy.

“s’good to me, so perfect ‘n pretty...” he praises into your glistening cunt, but you’re too enraptured by the sensation of his tongue stroking your folds to notice the way his eyes darken as he looks at you.

If you did, then you would remember the danger of nuzzling up with a wolf whose bite would bleed you dry.

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x female reader #yandere gojo x reader #yandere gojo x you #yandere gojo x ofc #satoru gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

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plzfeedmebread · 1 year

Text

What Do I Tell My Friends Family?

Word count: 5086

Pairing: HUMAN Miles Quaritch x Female NA'VI Reader Tags/Warnings: 18+ ONLY, rare pairing, possibly dark content, smut, adult themes, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, lust, older man x younger woman, under age reader (16), degradation, nsfw, dubious consent, dirty talk, orgasm, orgasm denial, foul language, choking, vaginal fucking

Author's Note: This came to me in a day dream. Listening to this song. Set in the same idea I have for Lie of Providence, where you're able to communicate with the spirit of Quaritch in a Dream. Though it's a bit different there. Won't be included in LoP. Have kept reader's appearance vague in some parts so imagine it as you will.

| 1 | <next chapter>

*by clicking keep reading you understood the contents there within*

You shouldn’t want this. You should not be feeling like this. Oh Great Mother, the shame is near unbearable. Yet you are powerless to stop yourself. You want him, this you know. He is a man. Not like the boys of the clan. Immature, stupid boys who know nothing. No, this is a man. You have no doubt he would treat you the way you deserve. Or perhaps, the ways in which you want to be treated.

It started as a childish crush; a flight of fancy. A silly little thing you were, developing feelings for a man you only see in a shared Dream. You enjoyed watching him flex those oh so strong arms, the expanding of that broad chest with each precious breath. Each movement deliberate, no energy wasted in the fluidity of his being. He was taller than you then.

But time passes and it brings with it changes you weren’t entirely expecting. Becoming taller than him at 17 was a given. You’re almost 7’5” now, and will surely keep growing till you’re at least your mother’s height. What you did not expect however, was the swell of your chest. The women of your tribe you notice, do not have such large breasts. They are small, extenuating their lithe form, the agile body of Huntresses. But here you stand, barely an adult, with tits bigger than your hands. Your hips are noticeably wider too.

As time made you older, so too did it make you bolder. You care not if his gaze meets yours as you shamelessly stare down at him when he trains. You openly watch him do any human ritual, especially when it involves him testing the limits of his physique. And you notice too, how his gaze lingers on you. His eyes travel up and down your form when he thinks you do not notice. You eat up the silent attention. You sure as shit weren’t getting it from the young boys of your tribe.

Sure, mother and father tried their best arranging future mates for you. But every meeting of the family, you seem to be the only one to notice the boys’ upturn sneer. To them, you were always a freak. Proportionally wrong. A half-breed.

Your friends tell you not to worry about it. Boys are stupid anyway and wouldn’t know a good thing even if Eywa herself was prostrated before them. Yet you can’t help the jealously that rips through your very blood when they speak of stolen kisses and secret rendezvous. They do not make tsaheylu, as that is sacred and meant for their future life mate, but that doesn’t stop them exploring their baser desires with equally eager boys. And as the days to weeks to months pass, the frustration of it all builds until you are bursting at the proverbial seams.

And when the dam finally breaks, so too does your rational thinking. You are sick of your feelings being rebuffed by these stupid, immature boys. And you are equally as sick of this bizarre dance you’ve entered with Quaritch. If his soul is going to share Dreams with you, and so blatantly eat you with his gaze, then by Eywa does he owes you some actual attention.

---

And so tonight you are going to put your plan into action. You adorn the least amount of beads and thread you possibly can, barely covering your nipples let alone the rest of your chest. You wear a loincloth with a thinner cut fabric in the back, it easily gets eaten into the swell of your ass. You’re sure Quaritch is going to like that, if his roaming eyes are anything to go by. The final touch are some pretty feathers in your hair which you let hang lose and un-braided. You take your ikran and fly somewhere else into the forest; you do not want to be disturbed this night and Eywa forbid your family asks about what you are wearing (or lack thereof).

You find somewhere suitable to lay your head for the night, the flattened top of a nearby tree. Your ikran makes themself comfortable elsewhere, far enough to give you privacy, but close enough to hear you call should you need them.

You sit on your haunches and take a big calming breath. You look up to clear sky. Eywa has blessed tonight with warm breezes and a dazzling display of stars. The forest is alight with bioluminescence and it brings you a sense of comfort. And with that, you lay yourself down and close your eyes.

---

The Dreamscape too, it would seem, has taken the shape of Night. As you have hoped, you are immediately in a Human settlement. You think it is perhaps Hell’s Gate, but something is different. You cannot tell, but it feels different. No matter. These are irrelevant details. You are here on a mission.

You let pure instinct guide you into and through a building. You are drawn to him and he to you. Finding him is never difficult. As you traverse the halls, you are thankful you do not have to bend as to not hit the ceiling, though were you fully grown it would probably be a problem. You immediately stop in front of a door. He’s in this room. You take a moment to steel your resolve. You do not want to back out now. Not when you’ve already come this far. You take a deep breath, then press button on the side.

---

Quaritch finds it strange. To know oneself is dead. To be a wondering soul, bound to The All Mother. To say he was surprised to learn she was indeed real, would be an unprecedented understatement. Yet she does not speak to him. But he can feel her influence wherever he wonders. Most surprising though, is You.

By Eywa’s grace, the two of you keep sharing Dream spaces. He’s sure you’re not dead though your spirit visits him often. And he’s also sure of one other thing; you must be sweet on him. Never in his waking life, and apparent afterlife, would he have foreseen something like this. A savage girl, the daughter of the traitor Jake Sully, developing a crush on him.

It was cute at first. When you were small. But you’re not a child anymore. And he has, to his disgust and pleasure, taken notice. He thinks of the way you tease him, swaying your hips with purpose when you jog ahead so as to walk in front of him. That damn tail flicking whichever way to draw his attention. When you puff out your chest when you show him how good you’ve become with bow and arrow. Oh yes, he’s sure you’re doing this shit on purpose. And you stare! You openly stare, and when he catches you, you don’t even try to hide it. The audacity of it all.

He’s not even sure if you’re considered an adult by your people’s standards. He never once cared to learn about the filthy natives’ culture. If he remembers correctly, you had mentioned to him last time he saw you that you were 16, coming on 17. You were complaining about some dumb teenage boy in your clan. Something or rather about not finding you attractive. He let you vent your frustrations by manifesting an appropriate sized gun turret in the shared Dreamscape for you.

You mounted the machine without hesitation, and shot at nothing in particular. Your frusted yells drowned out by the loud rhythmic expulsion of bullet rain. And while you had your cute little moment, he watched as your supple body jiggled and bounced oh so wonderfully.

It’s wrong, he knows it. To lust after such a young teenage girl. But you’re not exactly human.

He rubs the back of his neck frustratedly; doesn’t even notice he’s manifested himself in his old quarters, a place of comfort.

---

He tries to clear his mind. Think of something, anything else. But it all comes back to you. Fuck you’re a God damn tease. A succubus sent by Eywa to torture him. God dangling a piece of Eden in front of him, just out of reach.

What he wouldn’t give to bury himself deep into that pretty little cunt of yours, a hand grabbing fistfuls of your hair as you cry out in pain and pleasure. He wants to leave pretty purple bruises up and down your skin. Mementos he hopes you carry out with you into the waking world. He wants every one of those pathetic teenage boys to know who you really belong to. Show them how a real man lays claim to what’s his. Typical savages having no fucking taste. There’s a tent in his pants now, and he’s about to reach in and relieve himself when the sound of the door sliding open catches his attention.

Speak of the Devil and so shall She appear.

When the door opens you stop yourself in the door way. There he is, standing in the centre of the room. He’s wearing that black singlet you love so much; the entirety of his arms are exposed as well as part of that divine broad chest. The giant window ceiling lets in the natural light of the night awash the room in gentle moonlight.

You’re blushing hard, you can feel the heat spread up from your neck and dust your cheeks. There is a gentle heat forming between your legs as you keep staring.

“Well hey there Sweetheart. Now aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes…” Quaritch is the first to break the silence. His eyes start from your face, and slowly he rakes it down to your loin cloth and back up to face; not before lingering on your chest you notice.

“Now you didn’t have to get all dressed up pretty for lil’ old me—or should I say, dressed down?” You smile shily, brushing some of your hair behind your ear. “Come closer darlin’, let me get a good look at’cha.” He’s smirks at you mischievously.

You obey without thinking and step into the room to stand before him, the door shuts behind you instantly with a quiet swoosh.

When you’re this close, the height difference is a bit more apparent. His head height is perfectly situated at your breasts.

He hums approvingly, then gestures behind him for you to take a seat on the bed. When you, he standing in front of you, arms crossed on his chest. You bite your lip noticing the bulge of his biceps, your tail flicks excitedly behind you. He chuckles when he notices.

“Now tell me, [Y/N]—” it takes a great deal of willpower to stop the whine threatening to escape your throat when he says your name in that delicious accent. You audibly inhale. “—what exactly is it, that you think you’re doing Sweetheart?”

You decide you to feign ignorance. It is far too embarrassing to simply come out and say it. You want him to say it; want him to be the one to admit it first. He wants you just as much as you want him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Colonel,” you see the slight tense in his arms when you address him by his title; ‘oh he definitely likes that’. You place your hands in your lap, lightly squeezing your breasts together with your arms. You see his eyes shift down to stare at your cleavage, you can feel your nipples teasing through the bare fabric. He licks his teeth and you inwardly shudder at the action.

“Oh ho, I think you do, you little fucking tease. Now what I’m wondering is, does your Dear ol’ Pa know you’re here? Presenting yourself in front of the enemy like that.” Quaritch bends forward so he’s eye level with you. “I wonder how disappointed he’d be right now. Guess his sweet little [Y/N] ain’t so innocent after all, huh?”

“I do not want to talk about my Father right now Quaritch,” you huff at him frustratedly. You don’t want to think about your family right now, that’d be a sure-fire way to kill the mood before it’s even begun.

“Oh? Then, what is is that you want to do, [Y/N]?”

“You know exactly why I’m here Quaritch…” you avert your eyes, too embarrassed to make extended eye contact. You don’t see him lean closer, moving to the side of your head to whisper directly into your ear.

“Come now you’re a big girl [Y/N]. Why don’t you use your big girl words? Be a good girl, and tell the Colonel what it is that you want?” You audibly whimper. He moves to the front of your face again, grabbing your chin in his hand, forcing your face forward.

“Now I’ll ask again—What is it that you want hm? What is your plan here?”

“Eyes on me baby,” your ears perk forward at the new moniker, eyes immediately fixed on him. Oh Great Mother this man is going to break you.

“I—I—want…”

“SAY IT.”

“You! My plan! You were my p-plan! It is you that I want! Please Colonel!” You all but yell when he commands you. You squeeze your eyes shut, the shame and embarrassment too much after such a declaration.

You hear Quaritch hum approvingly and can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

“Well, aren’t you just sweet?”

His lips crash onto yours suddenly. Both of his hands are on either side of your head, holding you firmly in place. He doesn’t move at first, testing to see your reaction. When he feels you tilt slightly to one side and gently push up into him, he deepens the kiss. You’re a mess of teeth, saliva and tongue. Hot breath mingling in each other’s mouths. By Eywa does he taste divine. Better than anything you could have possibly imagined. Heat pools at the base of your belly. The tiny flicker of a flame come to life. You stupidly wonder if the boys of your clan are even a fraction as skilled as he.

“I can feel ya thinkin’ about something you shouldn’t be, naughty minx.” He says when he breaks away from you. He pushes your collar bone forcefully enough for you to fall back onto the bed with an oof. You lean up on your elbows to look at him at the foot of the bed, your legs planted firmly on the ground.

He uses his legs to kick apart your legs and stands in the space between.

“Let me clear that pretty little head of yours…”

He leans onto the bed, presses his right thigh firmly against your sex, his hands are on your hips holding you in place. A pleasured gasp escapes you, the sudden unexpected feeling of pleasure sparks from your core through your entire body.

Satisfied that you won’t move, you can feel him move his hands up the expanse of your body, thumbs pressing into you as he traces the stars painting your skin. Upward he travels till he reaches your chest. Your breasts are exposed to the open are, your meagre coverings having fallen wayside when he pushed you back before.

He delicately traces the glowing pattern of one breast, before he gives you a gentle squeeze.

“Hmmm~” you murmur at the feeling, warmth pooling at the precipice of your legs. He grabs you, one in each hand, and starts kneading you firmly. The rough callouses of his palm causing delicious friction upon your nipples. He feels them peak into his hands and squeezes you tighter.

You can’t help but moan. You’ve never been touched like this at all by anyone else. It feels nothing like when you do it yourself. No, this is so much better.

He swings his left leg over you, resting on your side, his right leg presses harder onto your cunt as he leans forward. He kisses you roughly, forcing his tongue into your mouth; immediately seeking you out to fight for dominance. You feel the slick of your cunt coat your loin cloth.

He breaks the kiss to plant kisses on the underside of your jaw. Slowly he starts licking the dots there, tracing down your neck, and he sucks hard on the flesh there, catching the skin between his teeth. At the same time he pinches both your nipples between his forefinger and thumb roughly.

“Fuck!” You exclaim loudly, the pleasure in your body starting to burn. Each nerve is set alight in pleasured brilliance. You body demands more friction, so you rub your greedy clothed pussy up and down his thick muscular thigh, drenching his pants leg in your juices.

“Aww is that all for me? Well ain’t you just a peach,” Quaritch teases you when he feels the wetness upon his leg. He looks down and inspects the darkening hicky on your neck. Satisfied with his work, and continues to leave more on either side of your neck. Not content yet, he starts leaving them along your collar bone. All the while you grace him with the sing-song of your voice, openingly moaning in pleasured ecstasy at his ministrations.

You feel his hands vacate your chest, his leaves a wet trail as he traces his tongue along one swell. He gives your nipple an experimental lick causing you to make the cutest mewl. And when he takes your whole nipple into his mouth and starts sucking like a starving man, you can’t help the profanity that escapes your lips.

You push harder against his leg, enjoying the feeling of his strong muscles rub against your neglected clit. The pleasure from your cunt and tits pool together in your belly. A gentle coil of a promise starting to form. The build up stops suddenly when Quaritch moves his leg from your sacred conjunction. But before you can even complain, you watch as he moves his entire body lower until his face is between your legs.

Your embarrassment is renewed tenfold. You lay your head back and cover your face with both hands; too bashful to watch what’s about to happen. You aren’t completely ignorant, your friends made sure of that, sparing no detail of their escapades.

You obey his command, pushing yourself up on your elbows to stare down at the man poised at your nether region.

Quaritch laughs quietly at your display of embarrassment. He unties your loincloth with ease. When he takes in the sight of you, he cant help but suck in a large breath through clenched teeth. The stars painted on your cunt glow brightly in the moon light, the nectar of your arousal flows freely from your slit. A Waterfall of Eden before him.

“Now that just won’t do Sweetheart. Eyes on me, I wanna see those pretty eyes while I eat this pretty pussy.”

He nods approvingly and lowers himself once more, his eyes never break contact with you.

You inhale sharply when you feel him flatten his tongue against your slick, giving your slit one long slow lick up and over your clit.

Louder and louder you moan, there is no need to keep quiet here; there is only the two of you blanketed in soft moonlight.

He presses his hands into the groves of your hips to hold you down as he gets to work eating you out proper. Up and down he licks between your folds, sucking on your clit finally, in between. He cleans you up good, drinking deep of your honeyed nectar you so graciously give him.

He listens to every keen, mewl and moan. When the pleasure becomes too much you’re on the flat of your back once more, eyes closed in blissful ecstasy. Each hard suck on your clit pulls tight the coil in your core, the fire burning brighter with each passing moment.

And just when the tension on your belly threatens to snap in glorious orgasm, suddenly the feeling stops completely. Quaritch having ceased his ministrations.

“Delicious, thank you for the meal.”

You whimper unabashedly, tears threatening your eyes as you look down at him with a confused lidded look.

“So sorry Sweetroll, but the first time your cumming is going to be on my cock; no exceptions.”

You watch with bated breath as he undoes the belt around his waist. Eagerly does he free his throbbing cock from the confines of his pants. He’s already so fucking hard as he starts slowly pumping himself. He sees you bite your bottom lip as you drink in the sight of him. You lick your lips eagerly.

He feels himself twitch in his hand at the thought of you on your hands and knees as he throat fucks you till your insides are raw. But he’ll save that for another time. Right now the sweet musk of your cunt is beckoning him, and nothing is going to stop him answering the call.

He gathers some of your nectar to spread up and down his member, before he lines himself up with your entrance.

He looks down at you, eyes meeting yours.

“You ready baby? I don’t think I can be gentle,” you nod in response. He rubs his thick tip up and down your slick, gathering more of your nectar. When he finds our entrance, he slowly pushes in just the tip, gauging your reaction. Your eyes close as pleasure assaults every nerve of your body. You feel your cunt immediately drench, excited at the prospect of being utterly fucked full. He can’t help it, seeing your face like that, hearing you sing like that? His resolve all but shatters. In one fell fluid motion he pushes all of himself in up until the hilt, meeting no resistance.

The suddenness of him, feeling his long hard cock stuff the entirety of your pussy, you can’t help the scream that rips itself from your throat. There is a pleasure you didn’t think possible, but also a dull pain from the sudden stretch. You can feel the hairs of his crotch brush against your clit. He isn’t moving though, waiting for you to adjust to this new feeling.

“[Y/N]…Can I?” He’s trying to ask if he can move in between laboured breath. You nod almost immediately. The dull pain nothing you can’t handle.

“P-please move Quaritch,” you beg and he hums in response. You feel him lift both your legs, holding them up at the knees. He pulls out slowly till the tip, then slams back into you.

“Aaah!” You yell in pleasure at the friction gracing your inner walls. Quaritch takes in one deep breath, and he starts pumping into you with all the force he can muster. He is not gentle. He leans over your body, pushing your legs up and apart, granting easier access to your welcoming cunt.

It’s all too much, all too good. The pleasure is insurmountable. Touching yourself will never bring you pleasure like this. Each time he slams back into you, he crashes against your throbbing clit; lightning sparks through your veins, each nerve ending singing a chorus of pleasure, your body is burning in the flames of desire.

You feel the coil tightening; the build-up of orgasm approaching far quicker than you anticipated.

“Fuck—fuck you feel so good baby,” Quaritch starts praising you. Despite the size disparity, you are tight, perfect, made just for him.

You can’t answer him with words, the only sounds escaping your swollen lips are sing-song moans. It strokes his ego something deep, to see you like this; folded in half, hair framing your face like a [h/c] halo, your face dusted in deep blush. And oh, the faces you make. You can’t be this cute. It should be illegal. If this was Earth, it would be illegal.

But he’s not on Earth. And you’re not Human. Such delicate sensibilities don’t apply out here 4 light years away. Besides. Eywa presented you before him oh so generously, and it would just be impolite to refuse such a gift.

“Q-Quaritch—I’m—” You can’t seem to get the words out, your orgasm approaching without mercy. He knows it though. The squeezes of your drenched cunt warning him. But he’s not ready for you to cum yet. He’s got one more little thing he wants to do.

“Don’t you dare cum [Y/N], you hear me? That’s an order,” he doesn’t relent his pace, the bastard. You close your eyes tight, trying through sheer force of will not to cum.

“Y-yes Sir,” he all but growls the moment you call him that, and you can’t help but smile cheekily. You feel his pace slow to deliberate thrusts. He doesn’t say anything but you feel his hands remove themselves from your legs and hear him fidget with something. You open your eyes in time to see him brandishing his belt in hand.

“Now hold still darling,” he instructs as he, without question, ties the belt around your neck, wrapping the leather around his left hand in tight coils.

“Do you trust me?” he asks as he smirks down at you. Your hand traces the belt around your neck, and your eyes meet his. You stare deep into those blue pools; he is brimming with lust, desire, and something so much deeper. You can’t explain it, but you trust this man with every fibre of your being.

“Yes…I trust you,” You give him the sweetest smile you can muster, and hold your left hand. He threads the fingers of his right hand through yours.

He picks up his pace, returning once again to that brutal pace before. He thrusts and hard as he can, pounding into your cunt with all the strength he has.

“Yesyesyesyes!” You chant eagerly, feeling your orgasm build up for the third time. Without warning, Quaritch pulls on the belt. It tightens around your neck, cutting off your oxygen.

Your eyes widen in sudden panick, reasling you can barely draw in any air. And that feeling, the leather as it bites into the skin of your neck, the tightness in your chest at the lack of air, it is delicious. Your cunt squeezes unabashedly around Quaritch and he huffs with a smirk.

He lets go of your hand then, you bring it up to your throat, grabbing the belt to try and relieve some of the tension.

“No you fucking don’t—!” Quaritch pulls tighter, and with his now free hand, grabs a hold of your tail—and pulls.

Your shut your eyes at the pleasure, tears falling freely down your face. Drool seeps from the corner of your mouth hanging open. No sound escapes your parted lips.

“Such a good girl, you take my cock so well [Y/N]! No one will ever fuck you like I do! Don’t you ever forget that, you God damn hear me?”

You are unable to form any words, the only sound you can muster is a strained moan. Good enough for him.

“That’s it baby—FUCK—Take it all of me like the slut that you are. Throwing yourself at those boys, knowing full well you belong to ME!”

That does it.

The coil in your belly snaps violently, your pussy grabbing his cock in a tight vice as your orgasm wracks your body in glorious ecstasy. You ride the high for all you’re worth. The only sound your able to make is a quiet choke as you struggle to breath, eyes rolling back into your head.

Black spots appear along your vision from the lack of air. But you don’t care, your cunt is still cumming and hard, gushing relentlessly, bathing Quaritch in your heavenly nectar.

You feel his thrusts falter as you continue to squeeze him without mercy. And after a few final pumps, he cums with a load growl. He’s coating your slick walls in his hot seed. He pumps a few more times into you weakly, his hold on the be belt slackens, rewarding you with glorious air once more. You gasp greedily, taking in long slow breathes.

You lay there for a time. Drenched in all manner of bodily fluids. The smell of sex permeates your senses, and you blush, embarrassed suddenly by the activities. You feel Quaritch slowly pull his softened cock from you, the feeling of his cum slowly seeping from your slit giving you a dull pleasure.

Your hole feels utterly abused, but the pain throbs pleasurably, you find you don’t mind the feeling. You feel Quaritch untie and remove the belt from your neck. He hums approvingly at the bruise left in its wake and plants a kiss to your sensitive skin.

He moves up over your jaw to your lips, planting soft kisses along the way.

He kisses you deeply, you can taste yourself on his lips and it almost reignites the fire within you.

When he finally pulls away from the kiss, he’s staring down at you. There is something unreadable in his expression. He opens his mouth to speak. But when you blink, he’s gone.

The room is gone.

Instead, your eyes are greeted with the blinding light of morning; your senses suddenly assaulted with the burgeoning life of the day.

You sit up and immediately notice your clit is sensitive. You smile to yourself; your body must have cum while you dreamt. You stand and stretch, feeling utterly refreshed. You feel a bit bad leaving so suddenly, but that was out of your control. You’ll be sure to apologise in the next Dream.

You call for your ikran, and make the short journey back home. You are trying very hard to remember to wipe the stupid grin from your face. You make your way back to the family nest in the trees, grabbing the extra garments you hid near where you leave your ikran.

Everyone in your family is awake already. You can hear the sound of idle chatter and the smell of breakfast hits your nose. Good, you are practically starving. You don’t bother trying to be quiet as you make your way up. Just as you pull yourself up and onto the platform, it is your brother Lo’ak who addresses you first.

“Ahhh look who finally decided….to…” his voice trails off when he looks up to you.

“What the—WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR NECK?!” Kiri yells as she immediately stands up and rushes over to you, cold hands immediately on you, turning you this way and that.

Your neck?

Oh.

OH!

Oh no…

---

Author's Note: Thanks for reading!!! Hope it was to your liking! Apologies for any mistakes. It's 1am and I have working in the morning lmao TwT

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| 1 | <next chapter>

#colonel miles quaritch #miles quaritch #miles quaritch x reader #human miles quaritch #na'vi reader #miles quaritch x you #colonel quaritch x reader #rare pairing #interspecies #dead dove do not eat #older man younger woman #avatar smut #human x na'vi #reader insert #female reader #afab reader #adult only #Spotify #what do i tell my family

1K notes · View notes

bythepen98 · 1 year

Text

N/ purely self-indulgent hhh, plus I always wanted to do something like this when I read a good fic. First attempt at making a webcomic.

Based on @rayshippouuchiha's ShikaNaru fic "The Brightest Flame (The Darkest Shadow)" :D

Rated: M

Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Crack Treated Seriously, BAMF Uzumaki Naruto, Genderfluid Character, Yandere Shikamaru Nara, Smitten Shikamaru Nara, Naruto with Tsunade's Strength, Love At first Chakra Enhanced Strike,.... etc.

Chapters (so far): 2/?

Summary:

Shikamaru’s never felt chakra so vibrant and warm before.

The log that Naruto’s been punching shatters clean apart, reduced to little more than splinters under the devastating force of his chakra enhanced blow.

Shocked and more than a bit startled, Shikamaru wheezes loudly, the sound carrying across the clearing and causing Naruto to abruptly turn and look in his direction.

And in that single moment Shikamaru is lost.

[excerpt]

...because Shikamaru is a Nara to the core, is the strongest they've seen in generations, and the Nara have always been a clan of Shadows after all.

and what does the shadow crave more than the light?

Naruto, with his ocean blue eyes and his golden hair swaying in the breeze his attack had created, shines as bright as the sun itself.

And Shikamaru intends to have him.

(edit: forgot to add this)

..."so much for that quiet wife and two ordinary kids idea."

"Time for a new plan." Because, really, there's no way life with Naruto is going to be any form of quiet or normal.

....Shikamaru's entire life plan has to be thrown out the window and then redrawn from scratch.

Either way Shikamaru's not actually all that upset about his entire life being thrown into an abrupt upheaval.

After all, convincing Naruto to marry him as soon as possible will be well worth the effort.

Naruto's pretty sure this is the closest they've ever actually been to one another outside of the few times they've been paired up to spar in class.

"What're you doing after this?" Shikamaru asks, one hand coming out of his pocket to reach out and play idly with the dangling sleeve of Naruto's kimono.

"After training?" Naruto keeps one eye on Shikamaru's hand...

"More like for the rest of your life," Shikamaru says. "But sure, we can start with training."

Naruto blinks.

.....[Naruto's] not really sure what, exactly, is happening here but he thinks this might mean Shikamaru wants to be his friend now.

Ah my sweet summer child.

Not an exact play by play of what was written in the fic, only the gist I guess and the moment that rly stuck in my head and got me giggling in my pillow.

My love for the "oblivious pure(?) mc and their darker, possessive s/o" trope has struck again. Couldn't've stopped myself from finishing this even when sleep-deprived, which I currently am right now. Had fun challenging myself with this too and might attempt it again with a future chapter or other works depending on my schedule. I'm occupied with studying this month so making something time extensive like this won't happen for awhile yet.

Excitedly waiting for updates :D

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n3ptoonz · 5 months

Text

'Anyone But You'

Pairing: Sub!Zero/GN!Reader (see what I did there)

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 1 (2023)

Warnings/tags: Smut, explicit. Rivals to lovers trope, very story and dialogue driven but there is smut at the end, handjob, Bi Han is a good boy, overstimulation, canon typical violence, Bi Han is a complex man in love, reader is a pyromancer, kinda proofread this took so long to write holy fuck

EDIT: I FREAKING FORGOT i was referencing THIS picture. starts wreaking havoc

Word count: 3.4k

Explicit content under the cut

"Just what I needed." Bi Han grumbled, his usual scowl apparent on his face at the sight of you approaching him. He always hated how much you were able to match his skills. Deep down, he might have respected that, but your attitude is what holds him from admitting it.

"Just what you wanted." you said, flashing a shit eating grin at the man in front of you. "Lord Liu Kang sure has his ways of bringing the gang back together."

"Another reason I can't stand him." he said, this time louder and shamelessly. He didn't even care if someone were to hear him nearby.

"What's the assignment for today? He hasn't given us an impossible task in a while-"

"He wants twelve of us to investigate Shang Tsung's laboratory experiments in Outworld and get samples. Problem is, it's heavily guarded by his minion freaks in and outside."

Despite him cutting you off mid-sentence, you just rolled your eyes and looked at the drawing he held up. He didn't make any eye contact with you until you took it from him.

"What are you doing?" he asked, voice filled with growing irritation. "Give it back."

"You weren't holding it right, so instead of asking you to flip it, I just took it. Quit your whining I'll hand it over once I get a good look at them."

He groaned, crossing his arms and waiting for you to finish. You really inspected their faces, impressed with how detailed they were.

"This isn't art class-"

"These are some really well drawn freaks of nature. Whoever did this captured their essence." you said, your tone genuine this time. This took Bi Han aback a bit, but not enough for you to notice. His eyebrows rested from his natural scowl upon hearing your indirect-direct compliment.

It was him who drew those atrocities with the finest ink from his late father's office, but he would never admit that. To be honest, he wasn't too fond of his own work and just passed it off as somebody else's from his clan.

He cleared his throat and took the paper back from your hands, "Yeah, yeah, just be ready to leave by sundown." he said, walking off to talk to the rest of the fighters in the group. When he took the paper, you noticed he had some black ink spots on the tips of his fingers, but you didn't bring it up. He's already constantly on edge so teasing him about something he actually put effort into was out of your forte.

It was nearing sundown and everyone was geared up including you. You grabbed your mask and choice of weapon, quickly putting on the all black uniform given since you all were heading out at night. Heading over to the table with the plans and formatting of the area, you could hear Bi Han discussing what's to come within the next 48 hours.

"This mission is going to be long, so listen closely. When we get there, we are to ambush the entrance to clear it of the guards occupying it. Then we wait to see if any alarms will set off before continuing into the corridor and clearing that too."

You listened to his plan, and to be honest, you didn't quite think going in with an aggressive approach would be effective.

"I feel like we should stakeout the front and sides to see the patrol patterns. If we just go in there setting shit off, surely we'd be fighting off an army of mutations, and who knows how long that would take."

Bi Han slowly raised his head, furrowing his brows. He always hated when you chimed in with something opposing his ideas, even if they almost always made sense.

"It would be easier to take them out when we get there. Plus, look at who we have on the team; our best twelve. I'm sure taking out some mindless freaks won't be hard." he said, glaring at you from the other side of the table. You placed your hands down and leaned forward, refusing to back down simply because he was in "in charge."

"Covering more of the area instead of running in blindly is more effective. We have 48 hours to get this done, what the hell are we storming the place for?"

"Because we have the reinforcements. Are you so incompetent that you question such a basic concept?"

"I think you forget, Bi Han, the last time we attempted to take down a semblance of organized criminals with just a few of us, not twelve--mind you--, a few of our people nearly got rag dolled to death. We had to retreat after taking a beating as soon as we arrived," you said, leaning in closer.

"It's ultimately up to you, but if you so much as get ran at by a gang of lab experiments, I won't be helping you."

Bi Han could only keep glaring at you behind his mask, the cryomancy in his veins creeping up as he gradually gets more aggravated. You were right, and that pissed him off, but he decided to leave that alone so the mission could just start already.

He watched the other members' reaction to you guys' interaction, and it looked like they agreed with you.

"Fine." he grumbled, "We keep watch to catch their patrol patterns, and attack once each group has established such. There's no need to report it since we'll be acting tonight. After that, we meet back here to report what we've found after looking around." he continued, pointing to a section of the laboratory.

"And make sure you take out everything you come across. Let out any prisoners too, but only after the fact so they don't get torn piece by piece by these abominations." you added, seeing Bi Han just nod and fully stand up, finalizing his statements and putting the plans in his pocket.

It didn't take long for you all to surround the general area, getting a closer look where the different parts of the lab would be. Albeit it didn't take forever in a night to get there, you and Bi Han had been bickering the whole time. Sometimes it was playful on your end, other times it was generally just annoying you how mean he was. If not for the rest of your members breaking it up, you'd have been arguing the whole way there.

Everyone else has split up for efficiency purposes...and to get away from you both.

You hid behind a tall bush that was easy to see through, watching for anyone and any thing that came by. Bi Han was nearby doing the same thing. You picked up on a couple of patterns that they patrolled in.

"I wonder if Shang Tsung is in there." you said to yourself, but loud enough for him to hear.

"He doesn't drop by at night. It's the whole reason we came at this time, don't you remember?" he said turning to you, his voice right back to his tone of irritation.

"Do you have to be an asshole all the time?" you turned to him and met his eyes focused on you behind his mask, "I wasn't even talking to you. Plus, I tune you out at any given opportunity."

He didn't respond immediately. Just slowly turned back without another word.

"You know, I'd be more willing to actually listen to you when you aren't calling me a moron."

"Maybe stop being a moron and I'll be a little more nice to you." he quickly replied, remaining away from your gaze.

You rolled your eyes and stood up, tightening the bandages over your knuckles.

"Why the hell do I even try with you? I too wonder just what Lord Liu Kang was thinking to put us together. Figure this shit out on your own." you said, getting low before moving to a different spot.

As Bi Han was about to respond, he noticed a suspiciously placed patch on the grass that you were approaching. In his mind, he figured you saw it already and wasn't going to say anything. You had gotten on his last nerve once again, so why would he help you?

You heard a faint voice calling out in the distance that was gradually coming closer. You looked in that direction since you recognized the voice; it was one of the guys running towards you and Bi Han and waving his arms.

"Trap! It's a trap!" he yelled, but he was still too far to hear. "Retreat!!"

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Before you could even process the sound you were hearing, the surrounding area was set off by mini land mines while the building stayed in tact. You were able to dodge the patch that went off, but the aftershock caused everyone to be blown back a long distance from the laboratory, which eventually knocked you out from impact.

"Ugh, where am...I...?" you leaned up, wincing from the pain on your back and legs. The air around you was dusty, hazy, and heavily polluted by whatever the hell was in that debris. You looked around and could really only see the ground and the trees as far as your vision went before it looked light gray again.

You got up with the strength left in your body, aiming to find someone, anyone. Wandering around for so long caused you to have to pay attention to a body wound from the adrenaline dying down. You checked it out and realized it wasn't so bad, so you used pyromancy to close it up for the time being. It hurt like a bitch, but it worked.

You made the emergency call sound for anyone on your team to hear, still nothing. You tried again, only to hear heavy breathing and curses following after it.

"God damn it!" you heard, immediately thinking it had to be...

"Bi Han?" you called out, still holding onto your side while you walked towards the voice with high caution. Silence filled the air. This stubborn fucker...

"I know it's you, hard ass." you said, walking just close enough to see Bi Han leaning on a tree while holding onto his side. You'd be more concerned if he didn't not answer you on purpose.

Upon seeing your face, he was clearly not in the mood for your presence, especially at his most vulnerable state. The man was beaten up and in genuine pain, unable to tend to his own wounds, let alone stand.

Once you stopped in front of him he just looked away. He was embarrassed to say the least. Everyone else is usually hurt and he had to watch over/take care of them. But this time his own rival stood before him, just as beat up but still able to walk around.

"Who were you expecting to be here?" you asked.

"Anyone but you." he replied, clenching his jaw.

"That's no way to talk to someone who could help you. The other members are probably scattered somewhere looking for us and each other, but nowhere to be found." You paused in between sentences to see if he'd have anything to say, but he didn't budge not one bit. You noticed a deep gash on his arm and dried blood around where his ribcage would be under the uniform.

"Let's make this simple. We cut the rivalry bullshit so I can help you, or I can leave you to it while you likely just bleed out. Your call, Grandmaster." you watched his face twitch at the sound of his title. His mask not being on his face freaked you out sometimes since you could fully see his face and every expression on it.

"How could you help me?" he asked, putting emphasis on "you" as if it was impossible. You lifted your shirt halfway to show him the wound you patched up.

"I just sealed this with heat. It still hurts but at least it's not bleeding anymore. For yours it would probably take longer and a little more heat to seal but it's the better option." you said. The look on his face stilled in contemplation. He really couldn't stand the idea of being in debt to you.

"You know what, I can go, don't wanna piss you off-"

"No! Please...I need help. I need your help." he groaned out in pain when he leaned forward in desperation. You kneeled in front of him with a half smile.

"Don't utter a word of this." he said, slowly taking his shirt off to reveal the wound that stained his sculpture of a body. Lord have mercy...

"Wouldn't dream of it..." you said, moving closer next to him and getting to work. "I'll do your arm too."

You watched as he wanted to say something, but simply didn't. Like a lump was caught in his throat.

"You're welcome." you mumbled. You were so focused on his wound while simultaneously keeping your composure, you didn't notice the very, very slight blush forming on his cheeks. The feeling of your hot hands on his cold skin, and the look of pure concentration in your eyes had a different feeling coursing through his body.

He cleared his throat and looked off in the distance, a quiet, but genuine "thank you" finally coming from him.

It's been a couple weeks since. Everyone found their way back and managed to heal in due time. Since the mission was nowhere near successful, Liu Kang wanted you all to reside at the Lin Kuei temple to continue with altering plans after getting a thorough rest.

After helping out in the infirmary for a while, you realized Bi Han hadn't shown up so much outside of leading his clan in their daily routines. You left the room and looked around for him everywhere asking if anyone saw him recently. One of his clan members overheard you and let you know he mentioned he wasn't feeling well as of lately, so he's been going straight to his room after their sparring sessions.

You took it upon yourself to make a cup of tea, heating it with your own hands before heading over to his bedroom. The closer you got there, you could hear him talking out loud. He seemed to be babbling something over and over again before he realized he was getting loud. You stood outside his door and eavesdropped carefully, wondering just what the hell he was saying.

"Ah, fuck," he kept repeating everytime he exhaled, which just gradually became raspier and more strained.

After knocking two times it didn't take long for the sound of shuffling and him asking who it was outside of his door at this time to fill your ears. You sheepishly answered back, letting him know you brought tea since you heard he wasn't feeling well.

He quickly opened the door and pulled you in without a thought, closing it behind you before looking at you with an expression you've never seen before. This man looked stressed as all hell, but not the work kind; the faint pink on his face let you know it was a different kind of stress.

"Look what you did to me." he said, pointing to his face which was gradually getting hotter at the sight of you. He took the tea out of your hand and placed it on his dresser before grabbing one of your hands. "You need to fix this."

You couldn't help but smile mischievously at him. He was indirectly begging you to fulfill his needs, but you couldn't let him have it that easily.

"I'm confused, what are you asking of me exactly?" your feigned confusion only riled him up more and he was on the verge of being a sputtering mess.

"You-" he paused. "I...need you. Your touch."

"My touch?" you asked, walking closer to him and feeling his grip loosen just a little bit.

"The heat that comes from your hands. It...felt nice. And the way you looked at me that day has been occupying my mind since."

You tried not to show it on your face how in utter shock you were at his confession. He looked away before speaking again.

"Please." he whispered as he briefly closed his eyes. His quiet plea was louder than anything he's ever said to you in all the time you've known him.

With no time wasted, you grabbed his jaw and kissed him, feeling him stiffen from getting startled before melting into your touch (no pun intended).

Pushing him to sit on the bed, you had never seen a man like him just look so...submissive. And the fact that it was Bi Han, because of you, had you thinking your life was complete.

His bun came undone and let his hair flow free. You softly grabbed the back of his head and massaged his hair, letting him feel the heat emitting from your palms. With the other hand you undid his belt and there it was. His bare body before you, and his dick half flaccid.

One grab at the base nearly made him fall limp. Your warm hands caressing his hair and shaft was likely the trick to make him cum right here right now. It didn't take long for that feeling to swell up inside of him, making him harden way faster than he expected.

"Look at me." you demanded, watching his eyes flutter open. If his cheeks weren't a deep red before, they sure are now. The pace of your hand quickened, but not too much to watch the friction. "You're going to cum when I tell you to. Not beforehand, understood?"

As he nodded you could feel his breath hitching. You never tore your eyes away from his even upon hearing the sound of slick getting louder with every stroke.

"See? I knew you could be a good boy, Bi Han."

He grunted at his senses heightening to the sound of your voice, his name, and being called a good boy all in one. He couldn't hold out for much longer now.

"Please-" he whispered. Nothing like a cold glass of man begging in the afternoon.

"Please what?" you stopped your hand, squeezing around the tip. You reveled in the way it looked like he was about to cry real tears.

"Please- Ah, I'm so close-"

"What do you want me to do about that?"

"Move your hand, fuck-" he started to lose sense of his surroundings as soon as you lightly pulled on his hair. You finally gave in, the look on his face and the utter desperation on display made you hot all over (no pun intended)

You didn't expect a small cracking in his voice to appear. With this you only egged him on further to express just how good you make him feel.

"Cum."

And that is exactly what he did. The moment he started to get loud you covered his mouth with the hand that was in his hair. Did you ever think you'd hear Bi Han whimper and sniffle just from your warm hand gliding up and down his shaft? No, but it made everything that lead up to this point worth it.

You didn't stop stroking. You couldn't stop. His eyebrows were upturned and he looked like the perfect bottom bitch. If you told anybody about this, albeit you wouldn't dare, nobody would believe you. You had the Grandmaster of the Lin fucking Kuei under your palm, literally.

As he kept cumming from overstimulation, ice crept up to his elbows. It's like he lacked control from the amount of pleasure he received. He definitely needed this to say the least.

He finally calmed down, and you slowed your hand to a stop. Luckily he only got it on his abdomen and not his beloved robe otherwise you wouldn't hear the end of it.

You sat next to his tired form, looking at him from the side and tucking his hair behind his ear.

"You really put the 'sub' in Sub Zero." you said, reaching up to have him face you again. Hesitant at first, you leaned in and gave him a peck on the lips to see his reaction. He just stared at you, but this time his face was relaxed, not a frown line to be found. A smidge of a smile on his face.

"You're cleaning this up."

a/n: thanks for reading! my asks are open! <3

#n3ptoonz #mk1 #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #mk smut #smut #bi han x you #bi han smut #bi han mk #bi han x reader #bi han sub zero #bi han x y/n #bi han imagine #bi han mortal kombat #bi han #rivals to lovers

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writing-makes-me-human · 1 year

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Hi if your still taking requests the can I ask for an aged up story about reader x neteyam or Reader x Ao’nung fic where they are in a secret relationship and an altercation happens between their families and during it or after it is revealed that the reader is pregnant (no smut if ur uncomfortable with it) thus revealing their relationship. Plz hurt comfort is my genre as of late.

The reader is a Sully kid if it’s reader x Ao’nung and if it’s x Neteyam then she is Ronal and Tonowari child.

Of course, you ask for it and you must have it! I love this idea! I hope you like it and maybe I'll do a part two where we continue with the dinner?? We shall see if people enjoy it! (Also I did not take the Sully kid into consideration so I'm sorry if that shows)

I named it: Secret Families

Ps: Thank you for your support!

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Pairing: Aonung x reader

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: This is my second post of the week so we shall see you next week. Thank you all for your support. I'm setting up tag lists for the x reader series now so if you want to be part of my avatar x reader tag list, reach out, don't be scared! <3

Ronal was a suspicious woman; not much went under her radar for very long, and her children knew that, yet they still did everything they could to keep their little secrets under wraps.

Aonung was no different, well apart from the fact that the nature of his secret would have had more severe repercussions than any profound dark secret his sister was harboring.

To the clan, you and Aonung were the worst enemies since a young age. They all thought that Aonung had  matured dramatically over the years to prepare himself for the role of Olo'eyktan. Still, they thought he still hadn't managed to put out the petty fire you ignited in him whenever you walked past with your usual saunter, making him want to roll his eyes so hard they fell out of his head.

But in private, far beyond the gaze of curious eyes, you two were mates before the great mother in an immortal bond with one another.

The only people who knew about your relationship were yourselves, and while a few amongst your friends had suspicions that you two had feelings for each other, none of them knew how deep the feelings went.

One afternoon after you finished all your required chores for Ronal, who was training you to be a healer, she invited you to dinner the following evening. You nervously agreed while trying not to register any red flags to her attention as you quickly excused yourself so you could get home to your pod before nightfall.

As you wandered back to your quarters, your mind returned to an anxiety that had popped up a few weeks ago, slowly turning from an obsessed overthought to a life-changing reality.

You were pregnant.

You had been a few weeks late on your cycle, so when Ronal left to give her mate his lunch, you quickly ran a test, and it came back with all the signs for positive.

As soon as the herbal mixture had turned a soft blue which confirmed your doubts, a million questions raced through your mind, and now that you had time alone, you dug back into the pile with fresh eyes.

How would you tell Aonung? He had never mentioned wanting kids, as you were both so young. He hadn't even become chief yet, so you highly doubted he wanted to settle down and start a family just yet. He would surely take the news badly.

Would you keep it? You were still at a stage where you knew a few herbal concoctions that would abort the embryo from your system, and you could do so without telling anyone. It would be like it never happened.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you crashed into a solid chest, you stumbled back a bit, but two hands gripped your forearms to steady you.

You looked up, and as if he had heard your thoughts and come running to speak with you, Aonung was there with his usual smirk. He restrained himself to only give you in private.

"What's the rush, servant girl?" He asked while using the affectionate nickname he had given to you years ago from the job that required you to spend a lot of time running after his mother without questioning her.

Usually, you would have smirked at him and spat out an insult, but instead, you could feel the anxiety clog your throat, and you stuck your thumb between your teeth, nervously nibbling on it to stop the gasps of air you knew you would let out without the block.

His comedic attitude dropped, and he immediately dropped his height a little to try and look into your eyes.

"Hey, hey, hey, what's wrong?" His voice was quiet and soft as his eyes darted around to make sure nobody was around so he could quickly pull you to his chest.

You didn't know the tears had formed in your eyes until Aonung noticed them slipping down your cheeks and pulled you into his cradle arms to silence you like a small child.

"You know my mother doesn't mean anything she says when she's angry!" His only logical conclusion as to why you could be crying on your way back from work was that it must have been his mother's temper.

Ronal had a tendency to slip up and call you some variation of 'incompetent' as she had done in the past to previous students.

"It's not that", you huffed as you hopelessly wiped one side of your face with your hand to try and rub away the tears.

"I have to talk to you about something", you whispered, still unable to believe what was currently growing in your womb. You pulled back from Aonung and watched as his face fell a bit.

Immediately his mind spiraled to think of the worst possibilities that could have happened. Had you been attacked? Were you sick? Had someone been hurt? Did someone find out about you two and not take it well?

As you saw him flicker from each of your eyes with a hurricane of unanswered questions brewing in his mind, you simply nodded toward your pod at the end of the pathway and led him to speak privately.

He ran after you and quickly unrolled the sail above your door so he could speak without fear of being overheard and having to deal with the emotional crisis of another person.

He watched you pace a hole in the floor for a few seconds, and then you turned sharply and pointed to the floor.

"I think it's best if you sit down", you could feel the air thicken as he resentfully took a seat on one knee while he leaned on the other.

The climate was humid and you could almost feel your mate's brain churning to keep up with his theories.

He was staring at you with his lisp pursed in confusion as you felt more tears form as you started pacing in front of him again.

You were terrified. Starting a family was a huge deal, and it took a lot of commitment, and you knew that with Aonung, you could raise a family together, but that was a fantasy you had toyed around with. Aonung would think it was too soon; you just knew it.

'He is your mate, and he will understand' your mind replayed the statement a few times when you felt like you were about to be crushed by a tsunami of doubt and indecision.

"Ma woman, you are scaring me. What is it?" His voice was soft, but you could tell by the way his hands were clenching into fists on his knee that he was worried for you.

"Aonung", you turned to him once more, letting the tears fall because you knew if you brushed them away, they would just be replaced by new ones. You wrung your hands out in each other, trying to find an outlet for your frustration.

"Promise me you won't be mad, we can talk about this, and we have plenty of options", you held out your hands in front of you to reimburse your statement with a miserable attempt at showing a strong front.

Aonung struck forward like a snake and grabbed your hands before returning to his previous posture. You felt his finger rub a circle over the back of your hand then his warm lips pressed themselves against your knuckles for a moment to let you gather yourself.

"I promise. Now tell me what happened. Has someone done something to you?" His protective flare couldn't help but be shown as your hands trembled in his.

You wanted to laugh at the awkward joke you could have made about the fact it was him who had done something to you, but you knew it was your brain trying to distract from the fear of letting the words spill into your real life because once you said these words you couldn't take them back.

"No, nothing like that…" You looked into his eyes, and everything felt so perfect at that moment, with you two basking in each other's company.

You thought back to the early days of your relationship and the nights you had spent together rendezvoused, visiting places you shouldn't have while cracking jokes. Aonung's eyes widened as you took deep breaths. Your daydreams then drifted to your daily shared glances behind people back's that had been filled with so much adoration. You couldn't stand to see that jeopardized.

"Your mother invited me to dinner tomorrow night", you felt the words claw out of your throat in battle with your mind that begged you to tell the truth but you weren't strong enough to tell him the news.

"Well, that's okay. She always does that to her students; why are you crying?" He was now utterly confused about why the dinner invite had caused such a visceral emotional outburst.

Your lips parted in bemusement as you tried to concoct a plausible reason as to why you would be so distressed.

"It was just a hard day", you slipped your hands from his grip, up his forearms, and slid onto your knees so he could hold you as you took deep breaths to get your bearings.

He pets your hair and gently shushes you while rocking back and forth. You clenched onto him and allowed yourself to be selfish for the moment, and you let his comfort about your decision to keep the secret from him wash over you.

You knew he wasn't convinced that what you said was a complete truth but he didn't push you any further on the matter, and you were very thankful for that.

You knew you would have to tell him eventually. Hiding a pregnancy could only go on for so long, but you decided you would give yourself a week to at least get yourself to a mental place where you could say the words aloud without having a fear of Aonung's rejection claw its way out.

Now all you had left to prepare your head for was dinner at Ronal and Tonowari's pod tomorrow.

The next day flew by all too quickly. The whole time, you felt Ronal's eyes on you as you rushed every chore that had to be done in her presence for fear you would crack or, worse, she would somehow sense your new medical condition.

You worked as quickly as possible, and when Ronal could find nothing left for you to do, she sent you home early and ordered you to prepare for the meal she would be hosting later that evening. So, you rushed home with the thoughts of your womb and the offering for your hosts that needed to be perfected, consuming your mind.

You brushed your hair and clipped on your finest bracelets and your most firm-fitting necklace, but nothing seemed to be able to be just right, and all you could think about was Aonung.

He had to be the first to know, it would only be fair, but you couldn't tell him, and you needed to speak with someone about it because this secret was eating you from the inside out.

"Hey", Aonung's voice made you jump, and you turned on the balls of your feet to see it was your mate, armed with his spear in hand, still damp from his hunting trip.

"What are you doing here!" You hissed as you pressed your hand against your heart, begging it to calm down.

Everything had you on edge; his presence only made your soul cry out with humiliation. He knew you were lying to him about something, yet he still tried to be there for you.

"Relax, everyone's gone home for dinner. I wanted to come to talk to you about something", he stepped further into your pod and closed the flap again, making sure you saw his eye-roll that teased your anxiety about being caught.

Your heart was beating so fast that it could have powered a storm, but you nodded with a nervous nip at your lip and allowed him to step closer to you.

Aonung's presence was consuming and sent a wave of peace over you as his touch gently caressed your face with one hand while the other slowly came to your waist and brushed against your stomach on its way to rest on your hip, which made your gaze turn white for a second as the fear swaddled you tightly.

He knew! He had to have found out from his mother. Of course, she would have known; she is Tsahik! She would have taken one look at your body and asked her son if you were mated with anybody, and Aonung would have fit two and two together.

"I want to tell my parent's about us tonight, after dinner", He slid his head into the side of your neck and kissed it softly. His sweet care for you, that often could have drowned you, was now suffocating.

"Okay", you managed to whimper out. He must know. Was it a fluke brush of his hand?

This was something he wanted, and you would do it. Maybe if you started out small with an announcement of your relationship, another announcement of a child wouldn't take such a toll on you.

"What is wrong? If you do not want to tell them, we can wait," he pulled back from you, his hands dropping to his sides. Your strange act confused him, you were always so outspoken, and he wondered why you had suddenly become so meek.

He knew something was misplaced in your relationship, and he would have left you to stew in your thoughts if it wasn't for the fact that you were starting to worry him with the way your body was handling the stress.

You had been skittish all yesterday evening, and he was worried. You seemed so pale and sickly. His mother had come up to him this afternoon and asked if he could go lightly with the playful teasing at dinner tonight as you were looking fragile, and it confined his doubts that something was grievously wrong.

"No, It's not that, I just can't tell you", you whispered, turning away from him to busy yourself with picking out a hairpiece to curl into your hair.

"You can tell me anything, ma y/n. I am your mate, and we are one", he pushed himself in front of you and grabbed your hands, so you were forced to look him in the eye.

He desperately tried to hold eye contact with you, but you shook your head and withdrew your hands from him, turning again to walk to the other side of the room.

He sighed as he felt his own fears envelop him.

"If there is somebody else… I won't keep you from him", he felt his ears flattened, and his chest heaved with panic that you might turn and accept the comment as truth, but you did no such thing.

You turned with a chuckle as you sniffed to stop the snot dribbling down your face, your arms crossed themselves tightly around your chest, and it broke his heart to see you with such a dreaded shocked look on your face.

"I am pregnant", you slammed your eyes shut, eyes only opening after a few seconds when the silence became unbearable. If they tried, the words couldn't have felt more doomed coming out of your mouth.

Aonung's jaw dropped, his eyes widened, and his ears waved back and forth as he tried to figure out if you were telling the truth. Your tears couldn't have been fake, so you must have been, but why were you so upset with this blessing?

"You-You are with my child?" It was the first time you had ever heard the warrior stutter in your years of knowing him, and you worried that it was a bad omen.

You nodded grievously before your left hand detangled from its hug and flew to your mouth, covering the orifice to stifle a sob. Aonung was unhappy, and this was your worst nightmare coming to fruition.

Aonung's shocked eyes morphed to joy as he closed the gap with a single step, one hand immediately closing around your cheek to bring his forehead to yours. At the same time, the other pressed to your side, his most extended finger storing your belly button to stroke the child-growing within you.

The shame of the predicament was killing you, but the immovable emotion boiling in your stomach was stilled as Aonung's joyous guffaw hit your cheek.

You looked up at him, wondering how he could be laughing at a time like this, but then he shocked you. Aonung pressed a peck to your head and then another and another. He peppered your face with kisses, moving across your head, cheeks, and jaw before he tossed himself down to your floor on his knees and placed a single kiss on your belly, letting his hands encase your stomach.

You were ecstatically shocked, you had been expecting to be sat down, to be asked what the plan was to empty the embryo from your womb, but he was acting even more loving than ever, if that was even possible.

"For how long? Is it healthy? Why are you so upset? Is something wrong with it", his gentle touch increased as he gazed into your stomach, feeling the worry bubble up.

"No, everything is fine, ma Aonung. I was just worried". You quickly dried your tears now, wiping your nose on the back of your wrist and your eyes with your palms.

"Worried about what?" He pressed further, his forehead creasing as he stood again to return to your height.

"I was not sure you were ready," you mumbled, returning to the familiar grounds of fear as the idea that Aonung would be away with his duties as chief in training too much to have a family right now.

"It is a big responsibility," he agreed with you, nodding, but his arms slipped around your waist, and you dug into him, letting his hold tell you that he was about to continue positively.

"But we have been blessed. Imagine how many babies Eywa will bless us with if you are pregnant now!" His eyes lit up as he realized that this quick pregnancy must be a sign of good fertility and, therefore, more children would surely be on the way before you were both old.

You laughed. The scratchiness on your crying caused it to itch, but you were so pleased. It was like someone had just taken the weight of the world off your shoulder now that you had someone to confide this secret with.

"We have never talked about children", you nervously pointed out as you slipped your hands around his slim-cut waist, fiddling with the string that kept his loincloth tied on his hip.

"Well, how many do you want?" Aonung grinned at your touch, and smugness was coming over him as he started the foundation of the plans for his new family.

"I have no idea. How many do you want?" You shook your head with a sharp exhale. Children were a lot of work, and both parents had to be prepared to put in equal work to raise and preen over them. They would all be loved, but it would take work.

"As many as you will give me!" His smile stretched from ear to ear. His tail thumped against his calf eagerly as the idea of a family between you two emerged.

"Hm, three?" You asked hesitantly. It was the number of children Ronal and Tonowari had, so maybe that was a sound system to model the base of your ideal family size on.

"Four is better, more even", Aonung shook his head, disregarding the number with a serious face. You adored how cute he looked as he discussed your future children, and it made you playful as you stood in your hut, plotting away while Ronal was probably cursing you for being late.

"Well, five is a lucky number", you suggested, an eager peek in your tone as you pushed the invisible barrier between you two that kept you both from laying your true thoughts on the table.

"But then someone will be left out. Best to make it six", Aonung's eyes lit up with tease as he hopefully glanced at your face, trying to gauge your temperature as the number increased, but you were in your element.

"Six? You want six children?" You were slightly disbelieving at the idea of six children running around your cramped pod.

"Actually, I have always liked the number ten", that you laughed at. Ten? He must have been crazy.

"Ten? You had better become the best hunter in all of Pandora if you expect me to birth ten children", the thought of your poor body was enough to send your head spinning. Still, the idea of you sitting around a small fire with a large horde of children running around with a much older Aonung kissing your face was enough to make you blush.

"Five girls and five boys, that is good, no?" He had clearly been thinking about this behind closed doors, and it was enough to cure you of any doubts forever that this man wasn't ready.

"Are you starting an army?" You joked around with a laugh, and Aonung was on cloud nine. He felt everything click back into place as you recovered your former happiness with an added glow; Eywa, Aonung questioned how he didn't see you were pregnant sooner.

Aonung sighed and rolled his eyes at your words, using his humor to keep you amused as the conversation about your future panned out before you two.

"You want to have less?" He queried, feeling out exactly how many babies you wanted your mate putting in you. He wanted a large family, as large as you could bless and Eywa could condone.

"Hm, it's best not to say. Eywa will either give me far too many or far too few if I say", it was an old wife tail your mother had told you years ago, and even though it wasn't rested in any science as Eywa took no sides, the power of the jinx held your silence.

"You know, if we were to have ten--" Aonung brought up the number again, making you laugh merrily as a hot warmth spread across your belly.

"Aonung!" You interrupted him with a shy, embarrassed outcry as the picture of a vast family filled your mind.

"I am just saying, if it were ten, you would barely have any chores. They would do them all for you!" Aonung raised his hands in defense, slyly grinning as he thought of the acts it would require to populate his dream-sized family.

"You are trying to grow an army!" Your jaw fell slack in mock shock as you slapped an arm to his chest, giggling as he quickly snatched your wrist before it could retract.

"No, if I were, then I would have stuck with thirteen", He brought your hand to his mouth and pressed it against his face to encourage you to hold his cheek, which you did agreeably.

"Hm, well, you'll have to prove yourself with this one first; you have to convince me", your words were half joking, but Aonung's eyes fell down your figure towards your stomach with a contemplative smile.

"You will see, I will be the best father, and you will want to have all my babies", his words made you blush further, but a deeper part of you lit up with desire.

Everything had gone well. The only part hindering your happy ending was sitting far across the village in her own pod with her arms crossed, cursing her son and her student's tardiness. Unsure if it was connected.

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an0nymousmessenger · 7 months

Text

A Thousand Wishes Unheard

Synopsis: You’ve always known there was a before Gojo Satoru, then there was during Gojo Satoru…you just never thought that one day there would be an after Gojo Satoru. Word Count: 9.06k tags. fluff, angst, hurt no comfort ( a little bit if you squint ) note: A bit rushed. The copium is real. Ao3 Link Part 2.

You’ve always known there was a before Gojo Satoru, then there was during Gojo Satoru…you just never thought that one day there would be an after Gojo Satoru.

You’ve always known Gojo Satoru. Who doesn’t? He was the strongest. He was the holder of the six eyes, master of limitless, the one that went against the King of Curses. He was your classmate. He was your friend. He was arrogant. He was condescending. He was loud. He was careful. He was kind. He was–

Gojo Satoru was a lot of things. Sometimes he was cocky, and other times he was annoying, and well– you suppose despite that, in the little crevices of your memories, he was…alright. As to you, he was just Satoru.

You remember the day you first met him, the memory was clear, and oh so very blue. You had walked past him underneath the school’s Torii gates, the one with many short stone pillars that lined up to the school. It had been a clear day, one of the clearest it had been during the season of summer.

He had been walking with Shoko and Suguru when you first made eye contact. You paid him little to no attention, too occupied with your hair not falling correctly in the right place. It was your first time attending Jujustu Tech and you were curious– excited, and a bit nervous.

You had been born with your clan’s technique, and thus here you were, sent off to attend a school to train and raise you to hone those abilities. Although the path here wasn’t easy, you still made it.

However, this story is for another time…This story…it wasn’t about you...well- it was sort of. It was mainly about him. The boy that you had walked past under the clear blue sky, not even noticing him properly. It was about the boy that you had no idea you would one day spend so much time with.

Little did you know after that short meeting under the stone gate that you would see him again not long after when you walked into your first class. He was leaning in his chair and about to fall off.

He really did fall off when you opened the door.

Back then you were both first years. Young, naive, and free. You would find yourself spending a lot of time with your new classmates, training, talking, going on missions, and small getaways.

Your secret little adventures away from the world of curses.

That summer was one that you couldn’t forget even if you tried.

It was one of the rare collections of memories that you held close, the one where you got to see a side of Gojo Satoru’s youth.

“Yo~!”

A loud and obnoxious voice came from behind, telling you exactly who had been the first one to arrive back at the beach.

Unfortunately for you, it just had to be the annoying white-haired teen of the group.

“Guess what!”

“...What?” You replied a bit late while letting out a long tired sigh.

It had been a long day, and although a few moments before you had hoped the others would hurry it up, now you wished that you could have gotten a few more moments alone to spend watching the setting sun fall beneath the waves.

“Oh c’mon! Guess!”

You could already feel a headache coming up.

Just as you were about to turn your head around and give Satoru a wack on the back of his legs, hoping to trip him with your hand, he bent down to your eye level, meeting your deadpanned gaze.

He put on his iconic pouting face, “Can’t turn around, that’s cheating!”

You couldn’t help but let out an amused snort, “As if that’s above you.”

He grinned, “Are you suggesting I’m a cheater?”

“The very worst,” you nodded.

He did a dramatic fainting gesture to his heart while putting on his best look of surprise and betrayal before gasping aloud, “Me!? Cheat?”

He leaned backward, “How so? How could you think so low of m-“

He was about to continue his nonsensical rant but you had cut him short with a quick jap to his sides.

In the end, you had managed to figure out that he was the one who had brought the firecrackers. Of course, you thought. Though you weren’t exactly sure how he managed to come into possession of them. Satoru with firecrackers was like giving a baby a chainsaw.

Okay, maybe not that bad, but still– the image was still there.

Perhaps he had managed to slip by Suguru’s watchful gaze when they were unloading stuff from the van.

You were interrupted from your thoughts when you heard the sound of tearing.

Looking next to you to where the white-haired gremlin was, you saw that he was already opening the box of firecrackers.

“Not going to wait for Suguru and Shoko?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Nah, It’s not like I’m going to burn through all of them, don’t worry about it!.”

You mutter something like ‘overgrown child’ under your breath as you watch him continue to tear and rip the package apart like a rabid animal.

Though, you knew it was because he was probably really ecstatic at the prospect of a little firework display at the tip of your fingertips. You could tell from the light in his eyes that shined brightly that you managed to glimpse from the side of his glasses.

You held back a laugh, remembering you and Suguru describing what a firecracker to Satoru was earlier when you suggested bringing them out when the sunset as you had packed them the night before.

The shock and look on his face was something that was hard to forget. Being from one of the three top clans he was spoiled, that was a given. But even with that, it came to you as a shock that he had never been able to play with a firecracker.

Though after some thought you thought it did make sense. The elders may have thought it was dangerous, and Satoru being the wielder of those rare eyes after a few hundred years…well it was self-explanatory when you put it like that.

Eventually, he managed to get two out.

‘Like hell, he won’t burn through all of them before they get here,’ you mentally comment, but making no sound or move to stop him. You continue to keep your eye on him.

Just so he doesn’t commit arson– of course.

He held out the long stick before lighting the two of them with his lighter.

Instantly the firecracker came to life, bustling and crackling with little mini explosions. It lit up the surrounding area to a small degree now that the sun had set to some degree, illuminating Satoru’s smiling face.

“Hello? Earth to his highness?” You ask with a light amused tone as you watch him, entranced by the mini light show.

Bringing him back to earth with your words and that nickname that you and Shoko would sometimes call him from how large his ego was, he tore his eyes away from the small firework display to finally look at you.

“Ah! Can’t forget this, can I?” Just as you were about to ask what he meant by that he suddenly offered you his other firecracker with a bright smile.

Satoru has always had a pretty smile. You had noticed that very soon into the time you got to know him. It was bright and contagious. His energy was contagious.

And that light somehow made that smile brighter, and possibly even more unearthly. Though you would never admit it aloud.

A little taken aback, you held out your hand nonetheless and grabbed ahold of the firecracker he was passing to you.

Your hands brushed, if only barely before he retracted them, going back to stare at his own firecracker with that childlike amazement.

You sat there in confusion as you looked at him, unable to take your eyes away, your hands still outstretched, holding onto the firecracker.

It was only after the firecracker was almost ⅖ of the way done that you finally came to your senses and retracted your aching arm.

You brought the mini firework show closer to you, but not too close to get harmed.

The tiny explosions were nice to pretty, you supposed.

You smiled. It was a small but noticeable smile. It was most likely then that you decided Satoru wasn’t so bad…not really, anyway. He was okay…you supposed.

Little did you know that that moment soon became one of your most hidden and treasured memories, kept away behind locked doors and secrets. A memory that you will always hold close, a priceless thing.

It was the first of many times that you wished that moment had lasted just a little longer.

You were too lost in your own thought that you failed to notice sometime later– before the firecrackers died and Shoko and Suguru had arrived and brought the snacks, and before talked late into the night underneath the watchful gaze of the stars while lighting more firecrackers, so many in fact, that someone had noticed them and kicked them out.

Before they were all on the way back to Jujustu Tech in the van with Suguru driving and Shoko playing the music, as Satoru had his head against the window, occasionally bumping against the glass with a few bumps in the road, and with you tapping a soft tune as you looked out the window at the scenery.

Before all that, he– instead of staring at his firecracker, had instead focused his eyes on you at that moment.

It wasn’t anything drastic, but a slight tilt of the head, a slight breathless intake of breath. He focused, not on the mini lights to call for his attention, but on the way your hair flew with the slight breeze, your small but delicate smile that Satoru had sometimes caught you wearing. The small smile that showcased your dimples, the way your eyes softened as you looked at the tiny fireworks display in front of you.

The sun had almost completely set behind the raging waves, and with that allowed the light to softly hit your face, and to him…at that moment you seem to appear otherworldly.

Perhaps it was then that Satoru…

Whatever he wanted to say then was muffled out by the seaside wind.

Gojo Satoru was not always the strongest. Sure, he had been born with the limitless technique as well as the legendary six eyes, but despite that– there was a period where he was still Satoru. Just Satoru. Not some strongest sorcerer of the century or what-not.

Yet ever since that day– that year– that summer. That blue spring changed everything. Ever since that day Gojo Satoru has been known as the strongest. It was official, there was no doubt.

It was then that the line that you were now so familiar with was drawn between Gojo Satoru and others. Others such as you.

It was then that almost every moment after felt as if you weren’t really with Satoru, no…not really. Despite talking to him, hanging out with him, hell– even laughing with him…it felt as if something was missing.

As you weren’t really talking with Satoru. You were talking with Gojo Satoru. It was as if even though he was right next to you, when you reach out a hand he was suddenly miles and miles away.

Because that was who he was. Untouchable. The strongest.

Years past…just like that. Through those years you had grown into a fine sorcerer. You were capable, and strong in your own league. Grade 1, and later in your late 20s you would be promoted to semi-grade-1.

You trained and trained; you wanted to forget, wanted to better yourself so that what happened that summer wouldn’t happen again. And so you eventually made it, you surpassed your limits and grew as a sorcerer, as a person, and eventually became an author in your off time.

Before coming to Jujustu Tech you were always fond of writing. It was an escape and something that easily passed the time.

A few of your works even blew up, earning you a little extra cash. Not that you needed any, being a sorcerer provided you with enough income.

Though you still kept on writing. It wasn’t for the money, but for the story, you could create.

Although you would never admit it, in many of your famous published works, the characters in your novels were often based on the people in your life.

Which is why you never brought it up.

It had little to do with the fact that one of your most popular and well-liked character who is loved by all of your readers being based on some annoying white-haired man.

It had been an accident. Really!

But you were ready to shoot yourself if your friends ever found out.

Well…it wasn’t like that man, the person you prayed about every day for him to never come across that book, was likely to find out.

As the lot of you grew older and older you also grew distant.

Shoko became a doctor and was mostly too occupied in her laboratory at Jujustu Tech while Utahime, Nanami, who you were glad to rejoin the Jujustu World, and Gojo… were all busy with their missions halfway across the world. You were too, so it was only natural.

You made attempts to get them together again– just to hang out, like old times. But it almost never worked out, everyone was too busy…and on the off chances that a few of them managed to make time, Gojo was never there.

The strongest…that word felt bitter on your tongue. It felt like that was preventing you from seeing your friend again. A friend that you had missed.

Yet there were still those moments, those rare moments where you were able to cross that line and reach him– if only barely. Those little accidents where you manage to slip by.

You remember a few of them, but there was always one that stood out.

It had been a long time since that summer, but you remember finishing up a rather easy mission earlier than expected, so you decided to find a place to relax.

It was a few minutes later that you found yourself on top of one of the Jujustu Tech buildings, lying on the roof as you enjoyed the feeling of the sun against your skin.

Though your break was very short-lasted as you felt a presence, a very familiar presence, join you not a moment after. It had been quite a surprise, but all the same, a welcomed one.

Closing your eyes you breathed in the fall air. Autumn was here, and in your wholehearted opinion, the best season by far. The temperature was just right, not too cold nor hot, the leaves were turning beautiful shades of red, orange, and yellow, and everywhere smelled pleasant.

You felt yourself relax as you pressed yourself against the roof, enjoying your little moment of freedom that you found.

But eventually, you spoke up, as if to the air around you, but you knew better. Even if your eyes didn’t tell you, his scent did. It was recognizable anywhere, and if his scent didn’t, then your ears would, and even if that didn’t work, your soul could.

“If you’re here, might as well join me down here, won’t you?”

You peek through one of your eyelids, looking past the hair that had been blown onto your face.

Right past that there he was, the man in all of his glory, the cocky and annoying bastard.

He stood behind your head, a little higher on the part where the roof was raised, leaning down with his hands in his pocket, a little bag at his side, and peering at your unimpressed expression with a grin.

“Now, now, I didn’t think you were the type to–”

You raised your hand, threatening to wack his lanky ankles, which would cause him to lose balance and make him fall off the roof.

But you knew you couldn’t, nothing could get past that infinity of his. But it still held the same effect after all these years as he raised both of his arms in surrender, sighing like a child as he made himself a spot next to you.

You noticed he didn’t wear his blindfold or glasses today. It somehow made him look bare. You suppose you just weren’t used to it…not having seen him without one for a very long time.

You two didn’t speak for a while, and you were afraid, not that you wanted to admit it, but just a little bit that he would leave too soon, and so you started to talk.

“Fancy seeing you here, weren’t you assigned a mission across the world in the Americas a few days ago?”

He replied back with his smug and cocky tone, coupled with that shit-eating grin, the one that he still had despite all these years, “Why? Did you miss me that badly?”

“No,” was your flat-out response.

You’ve grown used to his absence.

But did you really?

“Ouch. Come on! Shouldn’t you be happy I’m back early for once?” He whined. Somehow when it was just the two of you alone he always put on that same overgrown child act.

Not that you complained.

He hummed in fake contemplation, “Hmm. Should I tell you? It’s supposed to be a secret~ a huge one! I’ll probably get in big trouble.”

As if he’s ever been scared of the higher-ups.

You hold back an eye roll as you mutter, “On second thought— I don’t think I’m all that interested anymore.”

You were used to his antics, his usual method of craving for sympathy.

“Well,” he chuckled, “Now I’ve got to tell you, don’t I?”

“...I don’t care.” You say, biting back a tired sigh. You seem to do that a lot in his presence.

“Precisely! Since you don’t want to hear it, then now I’ve got to tell you!”

Great.

He leaned back, his hands behind his head as he began to explain his early return, “Turns out the case wasn’t as bad as the higher-ups thought it was, a misunderstanding. The curse was pretty easy to deal with, of course, it was mainly because I was there.”

Uh-huh.

You rolled your eyes.

He took a breath before continuing, “And so, I finished the mission, bought a couple of souvenirs, and decided to come back early. I figured since I had some free time on my hands I would come and visit.”

To you. To come and visit you.

“How thoughtful of you,” you remark lazily as you follow the clouds slow drift.

“Aren’t I?” He replied sitting up and grinning down at you, “So you’ve noticed!”

This guy–

Just as you were about to smack him he continued- almost hurriedly.

“I even bought you some souvenirs!” He gave you a quick glance at your unconvincing expression and added seriously, “Really! I’m being for real.”

Now that only made you more suspicious, “Did you break something of mine?”

He supports himself up with his arm, “Whaaat? What brings you to say that?”

You scrutinize him further, checking for any signs of potential an apology gift-ing face, “For all the reasons there are.”

He rarely brings you anything, rather keeping them to himself. Though, the majority of the reason for why that is, is because all he ever buys is sweets. Now, you may appreciate having a few every so often, but the problem is the ones he buys are always…too sweet.

So, this was suspicious, to say the least. He must be trying to make up for something.

“And…because you’re you,” You decide to add.

He smiles down at you as with his other free arm lifts the gift bag from earlier, a child-like excitement showing on his face, announcing, “Specialties from the Americas!”

You look at his bag with some curiosity, and a part of you did wonder what foods from another country would taste like.

You decided you would forgive Satoru this time…and perhaps even a little thankful.

However, that thankful feeling for his consideration soon disappeared, as fast as how fast a paper would burn when being thrown into a burning building.

“Fucking shit! Water! Water!!” You yelled as you wrenched the water bottle Satoru handed you with his shaking hands as he was too busy holding in his laughter, watching as you chugged it almost whole in one go.

Your yells echoed off the rooftop and were so loud the whole campus could probably hear you. It was actually because of this that later it was the reason Principle Yaga had found the both of you and kicked you guys out for the rest of the afternoon.

The water didn’t help much, if at all. The burning sensation in your throat only continued to sting, a stubborn feeling that wouldn’t go away no matter how much water you downed.

You gasped roughly as if you were fighting for air, “What…the…hell…Satoru!?”

Satoru, the perpetrator, the man of all your current problems, sat next to you uncontrollably shaking, desperately trying to keep in his laughter.

He managed to calm himself down, smiling to himself as he dug into his bag for something else, “Ah! My bad! I must’ve given you the wrong thing!”

“You're bad!? The wrong thing!?” You shout in disbelief.

You could not believe this man. He knew you couldn’t handle spice and yet he still–!

“This is the one! Here, catch,” he said as he tossed something that looked like another typical piece of sweets into the air.

You caught it with ease, and brought it up close for closer inspection; forcing yourself to ignore the stinging that threatened to make tears spill, you checked the labels and ingredients this time more carefully.

You made a mental note to work on your English skills. Perhaps you could ask Nananmi sometime down the line.

You looked at the packaging before looking up at Satoru with a suspicious gaze.

“What is this,” you demanded, eyeing the manchild sorcerer.

He grinned, “Find out.”

“I’ll pass,” you replied, raising your arm and about to toss the candy over the rooftop when Satoru shouted,

“Hey hey! Don’t toss that!”

You spare him an untrusting glance.

“Don’t you know those are expensive!?”

You laugh at his words, “Are you telling me the Gojo Satoru can’t afford a few more of these sweets?”

Knowing Gojo, he was probably one of the richest people in the country…sorcerer-wise anyway. Actually– scratch that. With how much his clan has, with him being the head, he probably is the richest.

“They’re from another country! It’s a different kind of expensive!” He retorted, crossing his arms defensively and in disbelief at your daring to question his wallet.

You relent, biting back a comment on how he could probably warp there in no time to buy a few more, you bring the candy back down from the air.

The package is clutched tightly in your hands, and if it had a consciousness it would probably be shaking in fear from the intensity of your gaze.

“You promise these aren’t spicy?” You ask him, still deciding not to trust whatever answer falls from his mouth.

“When I ate them they were very sweet.”

You continued to give him a suspicious look.

“Pinky swear,” he reaffirmed, even going all out as to holding out his pinky.

You stare at him, unimpressed.

“What! It’s the strongest bond in the world.”

“Is it now?” You ask with amusement.

He nodded enthusiastically, “A promise from the strongest, so don’t worry about it.”

A promise from him.

You rolled your eyes, deciding to comment, “How childish,” and ignore him.

He sighed dejectedly before looking back up, waiting for you to taste-test the foreign candy.

You slowly unwrap it, before bringing it up to your mouth. Sparing Satoru one more look, you push the candy past your lips and into your mouth.

Your eyes light up. It was…sweet. He wasn’t lying. The candy seemed to dissolve on your tongue and had this light feeling.

It…wasn’t bad.

“It’s sweet, right?” Satoru perked up.

“Yeah– it is…” You answer through the sweetness. You think that if Satoru himself could be a candy it would probably be this one.

“Told you.”

You give him a look that suggested, really? You watch him as he unwarps a different kind of candy before popping it into his mouth.

It was alright…at least he had some sort of skill for picking sweets…

…

You eventually (not too soon after) take that back.

Even though it was sweet at first, the outer layer of the candy soon dissolved and all too soon a flaming sensation filled your lungs again.

Spitting the candy out immediately you find your bottle of water from earlier, downing the rest of it this time before tossing the empty water bottle with all your might (and a little bit of cursed energy) at your now currently laughing backstabber.

He brought his head back as he laughed at your current state. The water bottle bounced off his head with a small thwack, too busy laughing to notice his infinity was off.

Was it intentional? Or was he just so used…to you?

Apparently, the sight of you fanning your mouth and trying whatever antics could help rid you of the prickling sensation now that you have no more water was something he deemed comedy gold. He fell back onto the roof and continued laughing at your misery with even tears appearing.

He tried to say something that resembled barely a sentence before dissolving back into a fit of uncontrolled laughter.

You on the other hand were too busy suffering to notice what the blindfolded man had said and instead focused on how to get rid of this burning feeling of scratching and stinging in your mouth.

That- stupid– bastard!

You should’ve known better! That blindfolded cheating cheater! Yes, you said used the word twice, because that’s exactly what he was!

Yet you weren’t too last in your own misery to notice a rare sight in front of you. He was…smiling. Satoru Gojo was smiling and laughing.

Instead of his now infamous grin, there it was– that pretty smile that often adorned his face back during the times of his youth. That smile that you thought you had lost.

The sun naturally lit up his skin, bright and clear, applying an almost angelic beauty to him.

And his laugh, you could tell this one was a real one, a real laugh. Not the ones he would do for the act, nor the ones where he did it because the situation called for it.

No…this was the real thing.

A laugh just for you.

You almost pulled out your phone to snap a picture but that was when the spice had just gotten too much, and way too out of hand.

Instead, you sigh to yourself, “Blindfolded cheater…”

As you looked at him you found yourself laughing along. It was nice, you thought. Almost like nothing had changed, almost like it was still the same. It was…nice.

You and Satoru spent the rest of the evening up on the rooftop, occasionally popping another candy into your mouths, and this time you made sure to only eat the ones you knew were safe.

It was only a little while later when the sun had started hiding behind the trees that Satoru suddenly spoke up,

“I’m going to kill the higher-ups.”

Okay. That was a little out of nowhere.

“Oh?”

You could hear the smug and determined tone in his response, “Yeah, I’m going to tear down this messed up system.”

You don’t respond.

He lifts himself up to lean down to look at you, allowing you to see his vibrant and unearthly blue eyes in such detail as his hair fell downwards, almost touching your face as it blew with the wind.

It was a bit ticklish.

If those eyes didn't hold heaven, you questioned its very existence.

“I’m being serious. I’m going to do it.”

His expression and tone he had used in his voice already told you this much, and you knew that he had always hated the system. And you understood where it came from. Hell– you even hate the system.

But you knew Satoru was adamant about it, about preserving the youth of others that he himself had been stripped from.

That blue spring.

And because you knew this, you broke out into a small smile and answered in a very quiet voice, “I know. I know you will.”

He grinned, falling back onto his back, seemly satisfied as he set his gaze back up at the evening sky, decorated with purple and orange tones.

“You believe me?”

“Yeah, I do.”

How could you not believe him?

“Well,” he said, “Now I definitely will with your support.”

“Didn’t you say you were going to do it anyway?” You ask, raising a brow, but unable to keep the smile out of your tone.

“Yeah! I did! And I am. But now that I know you have my back I know for sure that I will.”

You snort at his words, knowing that your words alone would have made little effort in his pursuit, but you couldn’t help but entertain the idea anyway.

Peering to the side to look at Satoru, he wore a content smile, illuminated by the setting sun that made his hair almost glow, you find yourself pulling out your phone.

A little longer in this moment wouldn’t have hurt.

You still managed to take a photo.

It was the photo that would become the wallpaper on your phone. Mainly because Satoru had been going through it one day and found it, deciding to set it to your phone screen.

Now whenever you open your phone screen you’re reminded of that day. You think it was the last time you heard him laugh, smile that wide, and truly talk to you about him, and so you’ll treasure it close to your heart as well.

Was it too selfish to wish to see that smile again?

With that photo it was like that moment was forefeet frozen in time, the way his hair was swept up by the wind while his smile was wide and carefree. His eyes even seemed to glow even more heavenly.

If one were to ask you who Satoru Gojo was to you…you probably would have just shown them this picture. But alas you were also selfish, and so you think you’ll keep this one to yourself.

Just this one.

Time passed again.

It was around this time that your worst nightmare had come true.

This time, you heard he had become a teacher. A teacher. If you hadn’t seen it for yourself you wouldn’t have believed it.

Yuta, Maki, Panda, and Inumaki.

They were bright and talented students, and you grew a bit fond of them. They reminded you of when you were once a student, once like them.

But why did it have to end that way?

You often found yourself in your free time helping them train and work on their combat technique. It was to the point where others would wonder who was the teacher, Gojo or you?

But you didn’t really complain, not really. You enjoyed working with them, seeing them improve, and watching them grow.

“Yuta, lower your arms by a few degrees when parrying against that, it’ll help with flowing you into another the next movement.”

Yuta nodded, readjusting her grip on his weapon as he returned back into the first stance.

“I’m ready to go again,” Yuta said.

You nod, smiling at the young boy’s determination while his friends gave him encouragement from the sides.

Yuta took a step back, his sole digging into the ground before he disappeared from view.

Only seconds later did he reappear, his katana clashing with yours.

Clang–!

He pushed off against your weapon, landing just a few feet away.

“Nice one! Again!” You call as you ready your stance once more.

You block and parry each of his attacks, letting sparks fly each time metal met metal. It was after a few times that you finally decided to go on the attack.

Pushing against the ground you flew toward’s Yuta from the side, aiming at his shoulder, only to feint last second and go for legs. To your expectations, your attack was met with his blade; a perfectly executed counter.

You step again, making your movements flow into the next attack, the head, the chest, and legs, every attack was met with a sword similar to yours.

What a scary kid, you thought, proud of his fast adaptation abilities to your attacks.

You were just about to sidestep and swing again when you heard a voice calling out your name.

“Hey! What are you guys up to without me?”

You and Yuta immediately pause mid-attack.

You felt your shoulders sag a bit as you sighed deeply, bringing your weapon back to your side, and wiping the sweat off your face with your uniform; then turning to meet the person who had just interrupted your spar, though you already knew who it was.

“Seems like his highness was a bit busy today, don’t you think? Not showing up for your own class?”

Satoru only shrugged as he continued to make his way down the stairs and towards you and his students, his bandages on and his hair looking like the usual porcupine. Though it did nothing to hinder his appearance.

“There’s no problem, my favorite person in the world has taken care of it for me, didn’t they?”

You roll your eyes, “As if. What if I wasn’t able to make it in today, hm? Or what if I decided I wanted to bail out?”

Not that you would ever.

Yet he only grinned and laughed, “I trust you! So there's no worry!”

You held back another tired sigh as you muttered, “This isn’t about whether you trust me or not.”

What if one day you really couldn’t make it? What if one day something happened to you or the kids? What will you do then?

He then turned towards the students, “Okay everyone! Today’s class is over!”

“What?” Maki asked, leaning on her spear as he gave her teacher a confused look.

Inumaki chirped, “Salmon.”

Which was followed by a very confused Yuta and Panda “Huh?”

Satoru clapped his hands together, “Yup! Lesson over!”

You brought your hand up to your face and facepamed.

It was only later when you and Satoru were walking around on the streets of Toyoko that you figured out why he had ended the lesson early despite his arrival, which also explained his absence in class that day.

“So…what your saying is that the curses are getting stronger? And more intelligent?” You say, summarizing the information dump that he had just given you.

Apparently, he had been cooped up in a meeting with the higher-up, and being the head of the Gojo Clan, it was obvious his attendance was required.

This information would usually cause one to panic or be scared because it would only mean something was wrong, something was so very wrong.

Yet the man-child before you had a grin on his face as he said in an almost relaxed nature, replying through his mouthful of cake that he had bought on the way, “Exactly!”

“What are they planning on doing about it then?”

“Dunno,” he responds simply, more concerned with licking the frosting off his fingers.

…

“Weren’t you in the meeting?!”

“Yeah,” he said, rolling his head off to the side to finally look at you, “said a bunch of nonsense, though.”

You felt like hitting him, “I’m sure curses becoming more dangerous is a bunch of nonsense.”

“Yeah, it was. But do you know what’s more interesting?”

There he goes, switching the topic.

“What?”

“The Mochi Mochi shop’s new cake,” He grinned, holding up the half-eaten cake with only the bottom part of the box present, the lid long gone.

It was lemon-flavored.

There was frosting stuck to the side of that grin of his, and you fought the urge to tiptoe and wipe it off. Just how sweet would it taste?

No! You were getting distracted. Too distracted!

You should be focusing on the sudden bombshell of news that was suddenly dropped on you, and how there should be more urgency to such news, “This is serious Gojo!”

But when you expected his response you look up only to see the edges of his mouth in a downturn line as he grunted.

A headache was definitely coming up for you.

“What?”

“My name.”

His response was short. A clear meaning that something had bothered him. And of course, like the child he is– instead of communicating he will drag this out as long as possible.

“Your name?” You say in disbelief, having no clue as to what you had said to cause such a reaction from him, “What about your name?”

But you received no response as the manchild in front of you continued to pout.

You start to laugh, “Don’t tell me..-! Are you upset that your name isn’t the second coming of Jesus Christ or something?”

He only grunted again, and you could tell from under his blindfold he was scrunching up his face in a way that suggested he was bothered by something.

“Is the title as the strongest not enough?”

Silence.

“Oh come on…what is it?”

As the two of you walked on you continued to relay the past conversation again in your head.

What was it? Did you say something wrong? That couldn’t be it. Was it perhaps something happening around you weren’t aware of? Could it…

Ah.

You knew why he was upset…you think– anyway. He couldn’t be upset over such a small thing…could he? Then again, he was a child stuffed inside an adult’s body.

Wasn’t he 28 this year?

You sigh, before stopping in your strides. You turn around and look up a him, a smile playing on your lips as he looked down at you curiously, his pout still in place.

You gesture for him to lean down, and so he complies, while also using one finger to lift his bandages halfway, revealing one of his blue eyes.

What happened next was something you don’t even know how it came to be. Your own daring had gotten too strong that night, or perhaps you had gotten too drunk off of Satoru’s presence.

Tiptoing to meet him in the middle, you bring your finger up to wipe the leftover frosting from his lips before bringing it to your mouth.

Sweet.

Too sweet.

You smiled up at him, “Aren’t you a spoiled child, Satoru?”

You look up at his eyes, expecting him to quip back. But you were met with wide eyes and complete silence.

Ah- had you gotten too comfortable? Did you go too far?

You watch as he slowly leaned away, tugging the blindfold back down to his eyes, before breaking out into a smug grin, “I-...I am quite a spoiled child.”

He stuttered.

Satoru Gojo never stutters.

He returned back to walking, waving a hand in the air, “And it does require a lot of attention.”

It was as if nothing happened, and that he was simply put off by it…is that you would have thought if you hadn’t spotted the back of his neck and the tip of his ears turning a bright shade of red.

You still stood there in place, only moving when he looked back at you after noticing you weren’t walking beside him anymore, “Don’t tell me I paralyzed you with my beauty?”

“In your dreams.”

You run to catch up with him.

Perhaps that night he did manage to successfully diverge you from the pressing topic he had no interest in discussing. But you also managed to make the Gojo Satoru flustered that night, so you wouldn’t take it as a complete loss.

Ever since that day, you notice that he had become a little clumsier with his eating, often getting it on different parts of his face.

He also visits that Mochi Mochi shop a lot more often after that…

That interaction gave you hope that perhaps…that just maybe…there was a chance. But that was all it was and ever will be.

A chance.

Tell me, in another life, would it have been something more ‘than a chance’?

But it seemed fate had other plans.

Fate, you now think to yourself, what a curse it is.

Shortly after that things started going downhill. The vessel for Sukuna, the King of Curses in the form of a child named Yuji, appeared. And many things came crashing after that.

But most of you still made it out okay, and things were looking up. It was okay, you told yourself. Things were…okay. Because things had to be okay.

But it wasn’t.

October 31st.

One of the two dates you will never be able to forget.

The Shibuya Incident.

The Sealing of the Strongest Sorcerer alive.

The Sealing of Gojo Satoru.

You remember the empty panic you felt when you heard the news. It had made your mind blank, and it felt as if it was falling apart. It was almost the exact same feeling from that day, all those years ago. But you were older now, more mature.

So…you didn’t cry. Nor did you act out on your panic, nor did you break down. Even if every single cell in your body wanted to just collapse on itself.

No, you couldn’t. You had a duty to fulfill first, and your emotions came last.

And so you fought, and fought, you fought for your life and for the lives of others. For the lives of the citizens, of the students, and for your home.

He will be alright, you repeated in your mind.

It was constant, never-ending. It was a sort of comfort, and it felt like if you said it long enough it would be true.

It has to be true.

He will be alright because he said so.

Because he said so to you.

He was Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer alive. He was Gojo Satoru, your arrogant classmate. He was Satoru, your…

“Be careful,” You say after him, mere moments before he entered the dark veil. He wore his blindfold and his Jujustu Tech uniform, all prepared for what was to come, and yet his expression showed no sign of worry.

And you almost believed it.

Almost.

He turned around to look at you. It was one of these moments that you wished you could’ve seen his clear sky-like eyes so that you could’ve seen what he was hiding behind his mask of arrogance.

A way to a person’s soul was through their eyes, no matter how high their wall was or how far the line was drawn. But the person in front of you had closed that off too.

You sometimes wondered if you could see those eyes…would they have helped you understand Gojo Satoru a little better?

“Are you concerned?” He grinned, “Worried about me?”

“Yeah, and what about it?”

He brings a hand over his heart, “I’m honored.”

You take a step forward.

You wondered if you could reach him.

“Listen, I have a bad feeling.”

“Don’t sweat. I’m the strongest, remember? I’ll be fine,” He said, waving you off.

That damn line.

“I know. Trust me, I know that…”

More than anyone else, perhaps.

You continue, “But just- just in case-”

Just in case something goes wrong.

“Remind me after to take you cake shopping, isn’t your birthday soon? Don’t worry,” He flashed a peace sign, “We’ll celebrate it,” Was all he said before he disappeared into the curtain with a small wave.

You wished he was there to celebrate all your birthdays to come.

It was only after you arrived back in your cold and empty apartment that you collapsed by the door that you had just closed.

You couldn’t stand up any longer, and even walking from your car to the elevator had your legs shaking.

But you didn’t cry. You couldn’t cry. Because crying would have meant it was over. Crying would have meant you were grieving. You couldn’t grieve, not now. For now, you must remain strong. For your students, for friends, for your Satoru, and for you.

So no, you were not going to cry. You had no one to grieve over.

It was not over. Not yet. Not now.

And so you sat there, collapsed by your apartment door for the rest of the night, unmoving. You felt as if you’d lost a bit of yourself. As if someone had come in and torn it away, tossing it into the deepest depths of the sea.

Your eyes were a bit empty, but still alive, nonetheless.

That night you did not shed a single tear.

It was to your immense relief when you heard the news that Satoru was alive. He was alive, breathing, and unsealed.

You wanted to run to him, to give him a hug, to hold him tight, just for your heart to confirm that he was okay.

He was okay.

You wanted to hear him laugh, to see his stupid grin, and to hear all the weird things he had to say. Everything and anything that told you that he was fine.

But the events that followed did not allow you to see much of Gojo Satoru. He was busy and was away preparing.

Preparing for what could have possibly be his biggest battle yet. You had other words to title the battle, but you didn’t want to say it. You couldn’t say it.

Because it would have made it all the more painful.

You had many memories of Gojo Satoru, many treasured ones that you kept close to your heart, locked away and hidden from sight. Some of the sweetness of youthful ignorance, some were more of a competition to see who could come up with the more creative insult, and some were of the times you managed to steal his love, if only for a few moments.

Could you even call it that?

But this one will forever be the most painful.

A night before December 24th, you, who were walking around the Jujustu Campus to delay the sun from rising, just so happened to pass by the Tori Gate, and to your luck, also see him.

It was almost as if fate decided to play one last cruel joke.

You saw him standing there surrounded by the many stone lanterns that remained intact there after all these years. He stood there silently and unmoving, staring somewhere off into the distance as if he was waiting for you.

He was. But he’ll never tell you. He never managed to tell you many things.

He didn’t wear his blindfold. His hair was down with remnants of water. He must’ve taken a shower not too long ago. He wore a T-shirt with sweatpants, somehow unbothered from the cold of winter’s night.

You silently walk up to him, standing there for a while. You knew he knew you were here. Just as how you always knew when he was there.

The two of you didn’t say anything.

You took a sharp inhale, and then a deep exhale before you raised your head, bringing it to look at him. To your surprise, he was already looking at you.

You stare into his eyes which still somehow managed to bring heaven to you. Looking at those eyes reminded you of many memories, of the past, present, and now…

They provided a sense of comfort…of familiarity in this ever-changing world, because even if the whole city was destroyed one day, it seemed as if those eyes would still be there, to hold you stable.

“Hey,” he softly breathed out.

“Hi.”

“It’s pretty cold out,” he says as a gust of wind passes by, making you shiver slightly.

Ah. So he does know what being cold is.

You take another glance at his outfit, “Says you.”

You could hear a faint smile in the way he sighed.

“Come to wish me luck, hm?” He asks, his voice light and calm.

You raise your eyebrows, “Do you even need it?”

“Of course,” he answers back almost instantaneously.

“I suppose I’ll make an exception today then,” you decide as you tilt back and forth on the heels of your foot.

You offer your best smile.

“Good luck then, Satoru. May the heavens be in your…favor”

Yet you couldn’t help your voice from breaking near the end. You’re sure he heard it as well.

This was goodbye, wasn’t it?

Saying goodbye was hard. It was never your specialty, and even with how many goodbyes you’ve said you could never get used to it.

Yet you were certain this was the hardest goodbye you’ve had to say yet.

He offered a small grin, “Why are you crying?”

You could feel something wet fall down your cheek and onto your shirt, but you didn’t look down and check. It felt as if the moment you looked away from those eyes it would be gone all too soon.

His eyes softened, bringing his hand to cup the side of your cheek so carefully as if you might break any moment now.

You wanted to respond with a quip, insult his hair, or even his attitude, and yet you could only bite your lips to prevent the sobs from breaking through.

This couldn’t be goodbye. It simply can’t be.

And so, you could only softly shake your head as your vision started to blur from your tears.

“Hey, don’t cry,” He laughed quietly, wiping your tears with his thumb, still cupping your face.

“I’m not,” you say, your voice shaky and barely audible.

But he heard you. He always did.

“Sure you aren’t.”

You look down, bringing your arm to wipe the tears from your eyes.

You can’t cry. Not now.

But you couldn’t stop. It was as if apart of you knew that this might be the last time you were going to see him, to feel his warmth against yours, to hear his voice, to–

“Look at me,” he requested gently, using his thumb to draw small circles on the side of your cheek.

And so you do, you look back at him, taking in his white soft hair that almost reminded you of the first snow, the purest of snow. You take in his scent, the smell of vanilla.

You force yourself to etch his voice into your memories so that you will never forget.

“I’m the strongest. I’ll win.”

You wanted to believe him, oh how dearly you wanted to. But he probably even knew better than you did.

Satoru sighs when he still sees your hesitating face, his face lost in thought before bringing up his pinky to you.

And suddenly, you were sixteen again, and not a day older than when you had first walked under this gate. You and him, standing underneath the Torii Gate in the presence of the bluest spring as petals danced around the two of you.

“Let’s make a promise then,” he whispers with a cheeky smile.

You eye him suspiciously through your tears as you force your voice to be stable, “What kind of promise?”

“I’ll win, that’s my promise,” he says.

A promise to you.

“You promise?” You couldn’t help but ask again, like a child seeking comfort.

He nods affirmatively, “I promise.”

You bring your pinky up to his, entwining in a desperate kind of promise.

He smiles down softly at you as the two of you shake on it.

You then take a step closer, wrapping your arms around his waist.

And he let you.

You could feel his warmth. He didn’t have his infinity on.

He never did when it came to you.

He chuckled warmly, “If my memory serves me correctly…” he paused, “A while ago, someone had called the motion childish?”

“Shut up,” you mumble through into his shirt.

You felt his hands wrap around yours, pulling you closer to him.

This was possibly the closest you’ve ever been to Gojo Satoru.

“Don’t go,” You say quietly, “Don’t go.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“I’m not!” You protest.

And all of a sudden you were the child now, all your walls were broken and damaged as you lay yourself bare.

“Not you…not you too,” you beg softly, as if hoping that your words could change his will.

You know it can’t.

“Didn’t we just promise?” He says, “We’ll see eachother again. I’m sure of it.”

And for a second, you believed him.

Gojo Satoru, you are a cruel man, did you know?

Gojo Satoru, what were you supposed to do now with your promise? Tell me, you begged. Tell me, what am I supposed to do now that all there was left was that promise of yours?

Where are you to come and comfort me when I’m no longer able to stand by myself? Where are you to come and dry my tears again?

What were you supposed to do when all there left were memories locked behind your heart? What were you supposed to do now when all the words he’s ever said will forever be played on repeat.

Gojo Satoru was a lot of things. Sometimes he was arrogant, annoying, and rude. But he was also kind, caring, and lonely. He was a child at heart, someone who dreamed, someone who had high ambitions, someone who took care of his students, and someone who had a pretty smile.

He was your friend, your coworker, your classmate, he was someone you confided with, someone that made you feel like home, someone that made you laugh, someone who was close to you, he was always and had only ever been Satoru to you.

You’ve always known there was a before Gojo Satoru, then there was during Gojo Satoru…you just never thought that one day there would be an after Gojo Satoru.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #fluff #hurt/comfort #angst #gojo fluff #gojo angst #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader

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loaksky · 1 year

Text

— 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴

the lowdown —the one where you can’t help but want lo’ak even though he’s in love with someone else.

the who — lo’ak x fem omatikaya!reader

the word count — 735

the tags & warnings — unrequited love (oh boy we’re doing this) ,, one-sided pining ,, lo’ak is oblivious & reader is a slave to her feelings for him :(

the notes — based on this request ! strayed a little from the prompt, but i think some of the lyrics still apply !

masterlist

For some time, you’d always thought that your feelings for Lo’ak had to be the most diminutive seedling planted in the drought of your adolescence, but it grew, bloomed, and flourished. And under even the most stressful of circumstances, the only thing you could ever be certain of was that every pump of your heart was for him.

You tried to prune the ebbing fondness at the start, didn’t want a single soul to know that the troubled son of the clan’s leader had staked a claim on your affections, but like growing pains, you evolved with the feelings.

As you grew into yourself, grew from being fond to being in love, you started to read between every line, began to analyze every lingering gaze, every friendly smile. You white-knuckled hope so tightly, at times you felt you couldn’t breathe. Not when the idea of you and Lo’ak was fragile and a single gust could shatter what you spent years shielding.

And for a while you thought that the feelings could be mutual, thought that the fine line you two danced over was just the start of something more, but you couldn’t bring yourself to bite the bullet. You’d just always assumed that neither could he.

Lo’ak was carrying a burden on his shoulders, one that was meticulously crafted over years of being compared to the eldest Sully. It was only natural that you’d assume the role of softening him, words gentle, heart on your sleeve as you’d whisper your sound declarations laced as sweet affirmations.

You smoothed over every bruise inflicted on both skin and soul, built him up in times when his foundation was crumbling. And god, did you wish he’d see you. Wish he’d see that you were trying, hoped so hard that he’d kiss your wounds away, too. But you’re too used to giving and he’s too used to taking.

But truthfully, you’d take Lo’ak any way you could have him, no matter how much you pined, no matter how much you wanted, needed him to be yours, you mustered the courage and the contentment to accept as much of him as he’d be willing to give you.

However this? This was the final straw. The one that fractures your already delicate heart.

Lo’ak’s preoccupied, the same girl who’d begun to show interest all those weeks ago tasting his lips the same way you’d yearned to for years. And you don’t mean to stare, dread pooling and coiling in your gut, but he’s touching her like you’d always wished he’d touch you and it makes you sick.

And you figure this is what breaking feels like, when you hear those three burning words whispered in the dead of the glowing forest, not swallowed fast enough as Lo’ak leans in to kiss her again.

“I love you.”

Lo’ak is in love.

It’s the kind of love that’s consuming. The kind that cripples in the silence of night, makes him absolutely flushed with the desire to spend every waking moment intertwined. It’s the kind that teeters over a very dangerous line, one that can send Lo’ak into the throes of the most passionate and fulfilling love, or send him barreling headfirst into the thorns.

It’s the latter, he realizes, after weeks of the honeymoon phase, of talking about the future, of parading around the village boasting such a shiny lover.

“My parents have arranged a marriage.”

Lo’ak’s smile drops, eyes unblinking as he stares at the girl before him in utter disbelief.

His thoughts come out in a disarray, unable to formulate a solid sentence to convey the way fissures are forming in his chest.

“We can’t continue this,” she tells him tearfully. “I’m sorry.”

It’s the first time he begs, clinging to her tightly, like pleading will rewrite their stars.

You find him in the same spot after eclipse, eyes glued to the twinkling skies through the opening in the canopy of trees.

The severance of his union is a hushed hum among the villagers and you are a creature of ruinous habits, always set to self-destruct.

You swallow as you approach him, fingertips brushing his shoulders as a silent announcement that you’re there.

He can’t help the shiver that runs down his spine, something like distant comfort niggling in his stomach. Because if there’s one thing he can count on, it’s you picking up his broken pieces.

And you do. You always do.

taglist; @nao-cchi , @jkiminpark , @philiasoul @amart-e , @s-u-t , @netesbby , @tayswiftlovebot , @dumb-fawkin-bitch , @fanboyluvr , @neteyamoa , @itssiaaax , @girlpostingsposts , @athenachu , @neteyamo

#lo'ak imagine #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak drabble #lo'ak avatar #lo'ak fanfiction #lo'ak fic #avatar #avatar the movie #avatar way of water #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #atwow

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theheirofthesharingan · 5 months

Note

Random question, but let's say that Itachi lived right? Like all the way to Boruto, do you think Itachi would probably be that one, almost, father figure to Sarada in a way? Considering since Sasuke has always been away from the two of them (Sakura and Sarada) if Itachi decided to stay in Konoha instead of traveling with Sasuke? Also I wonder how Itachi would react to Sasuke being with Sakura as well, I wonder, what do you think?

Interesting question.

To answer this, we need to consider some major factors that were crucial in shaping their lives.

If itachi lived, he should have the development he did during the war i.e. realizing treating Sasuke like a baby was a bad choice he made all along.

Sasuke doesn't know Itachi is alive. Why would he leave the village in the first place if Itachi was alive?

Itachi doesn't know where Sasuke is. Why else would Itachi stay in the village if he could be with his brother?

Konoha has somehow cleared his name and acknowledged its own crimes against the clan.

Still, I'm going to answer this question with the ideas that are independent of each other and don't need each other to exist (if that makes sense?)

I think Itachi would be a terrible father figure to Sarada. He didn't grow up to lead a normal life full of love and comfort. He was a Shinobi who was trained to kill. That's what he did all his life and he never had the time to be anything other than that. He loved Sasuke a lot, but his expression was thoroughly violent, although under extreme duress, and in a slightly easier life he'd have served better. He doesn't know how to be a normal person. He doesn't understand how to be something that's not a Shinobi and a killer. He was conditioned since his childhood to live a certain way and the change in the lifestyle would not change anything for him. I personally don't see him being able to guide Sarada or be a positive/healthy influence in her life. He can't give anything to her, or anyone, for that matter.

He's way, way too damaged as a person. Even if you include therapy sessions those won't erase his past and what he feels about himself. He can't offer anything in a bonding that isn't with Sasuke. He'd still feel some affection towards Sarada. He has no reason to not like her, but he can't be a parent figure to her. I mean, isn't that the whole reason Sasuke, too, isn't a 'good father' to Sarada? He too is damaged beyond repair.

Some anti-SS content under the cut. No slander or bashing of the characters, but my opinion on why Itachi might not approve of Sakura as his brother's life partner. I'll tag the post accordingly. Please don't read if you're a fan of the pairing.

He will not be overly thrilled about Sakura being in Sasuke's life. Sasuke didn't love Sakura and Sakura never loved Sasuke. She was obsessed with an image of his she found alluring and his absence in her life fed that longing further, making her feel she loved him. He was a trophy for her she was to win in the contest of her rivalry against Ino.

In other words, she had no genuine feelings for Sasuke.

Sasuke, too, never felt any affiliation towards her. Yes, there were some moments he cared about her deeply, but he's genuinely kind and caring towards people. If he loved her he'd be more open about his feelings.

When Itachi met Team 7 in the Kazekage Rescue Arc, he paid no attention to Sakura. His attention was solely on Naruto and was happy to see Naruto had grown so much from the last time they met. There was a reason he entrusted Sasuke with Naruto. And he wouldn't be too pleased to know that Sakura once tried to kill his brother for whom he bore the worst pains and sins in his heart.

That alone would infuriate him. However, it wouldn't matter to him if Sasuke really loved Sakura, because I don't think the Itachi that bid farewell to Sasuke in the war would claim any stakes on him. If Sasuke loved Sakura he would be okay with it, but not trust her. Itachi's brain works in different ways. xD

Itachi would also understand there's a reason his brother doesn't want to be with his family. And his lack of affection towards them would tell him everything. He decided things for Sasuke when he saw him as a child in the past, but won't make the same mistakes again.

I think he'd like Sarada, but won't be extremely fond of Sakura. Though I don't see him being good with kids at all.

#itachi #sasuke #uchiha brothers #anti sakura #anti sarada #anon #ask #anti sasusaku #anti ss

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blue-slxt · 10 months

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Truth or Dare

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

A/N: Okay so I've had this idea for a while, but I just had no idea how to really execute it. So huge thanks to the anon that suggested the truth or dare premise. I love you! I hope you guys enjoy this one. This is also my first time really writing Ao'nung where he's involved in the story so go easy on me lol. All characters are aged up.

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Metkayina!Reader x Lo'ak x Ao'nung

Warnings: EXPLICIT SMUT, P in V, Oral (F receiving), Train, Squirting, Intense Orgasms, Creampie, Alcohol, (kinda) Manipulation, I think that's it

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: A game of truth or dare takes a turn when Ao'nung confronts you about a rumor he heard.

When the Sully family first arrived on your shores, everybody was weary of them and their presence. While Jake was basically a living legend with his status as toruk makto, everybody knew that him being here meant that the sky people wouldn’t be far behind. Nevertheless, Tonowari granted them uturu. Ao’nung and Tsireya were in charge of teaching the kids everything they needed to know to live here and you would tag along since Tsireya was your best friend.

The early days were rocky to put it lightly. The Sully boys and Ao’nung had a hard time getting along, which was entirely Ao’nung’s fault with his constant and unprompted teasing. You hated that part of him.

Even though Tsireya was like a sister to you, your feelings for Ao’nung were…more complicated. You had a crush on him for years, but you couldn’t deny that he had some irritating qualities about him. Usually, he only acted like that when he was with his friends. It was like he felt the need to show off for them. It was exhausting. And right around that time was when you started to actually take notice of the Sully brothers. They were so different from everything that you had grown up with. Their skin was a darker shade of blue, their frames were much more slim to help them maneuver through the forest more efficiently, thin tails, amber eyes, completely braided hair instead of any loose curls, and no tattoos to be seen.

Your curiosity had been piqued already by just their physical appearance. But as you got to know them, your interest grew. Neteyam was charming and traditional. He took training very seriously and you would often try to get him to loosen up and have a little fun. Lo’ak on the other hand was full of surprises. He was funny and adventurous. You enjoyed spending time with them.

Over the last couple of years that they’ve lived here, you’ve all grown close, even with Ao’nung. The Sully kids adapted to your ways quickly and they’ve become upstanding, respected members of the clan.

Tonight, you are all sitting around a fire on the beach drinking like you would do often when you all had some free time. You all laugh and joke and talk for hours under the night sky. Eventually Kiri announces that she’s ready to turn in for the night and Tsireya follows suit behind her leaving you alone with Ao’nung, Neteyam, and Lo’ak. The precarious position you’re in right now is lost on you, but not Ao’nung. He sees this as the perfect opportunity to have a little fun with you.

“How about we play a game?” he suggests with a sly grin.

You raise an eyebrow at him since suggesting games wasn’t usually his thing, but you were curious to see where this was going. “What game?” “Truth or Dare.”

“Alright, who wants to go first?” you ask.

You all shift your gazes around at each other for a second before Lo’ak decides to raise his hand and volunteer.

“Okay, Lo’ak, truth or dare?”

“Truth, hit me with your best shot.” He turns his nose up showing off his confidence in his choice.

You try to think of a good question to ask him, “Are you a virgin?” You’re not sure why that was the question that came to mind, but you put it out there now so you have to stand by it.

“Nope.” He winks at you when he answers and Neteyam swats his arm to tell him to behave.

“No real surprise there, I guess” you say about to take another sip of your drink.

“Guess you would know, huh?” you hear Ao’nung mumble next to you.

You turn to look at him with a questioning look, “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, I mean, guys talk. And I’ve heard a thing or two about you is all.” He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly while Neteyam and Lo’ak watch on.

“Alright, my turn to ask. Truth or dare?” Lo’ak asks you.

“Truth.” “So is it true? What all the guys say about you?” Neteyam hits Lo’ak again. He can’t believe that Lo’ak would actually ask you such a thing.

You don’t take any offence to the question, though. “Wouldn’t you like to find out?” you laugh a little to yourself taking another swig of your drink.

“I would, actually.” Ao’nung speaks up. “See, I think you’re all talk. And the stories I’ve heard? I think they’re just that, stories. There’s no way you’d be able to handle a real pounding.” Ao’nung knew exactly what he was doing. He was challenging you. Testing you to see how far you’d go to prove him wrong. He’s always known how to manipulate you into doing what he wanted. And you weren’t stupid. You could recognize the manipulation from a mile away. But you could never stop yourself from playing right into his schemes. And this time would be no different.

“Please, I could take all 3 of you if I wanted.” You scoff. You’re mostly bluffing, but you’re feeling emboldened by the alcohol. Your words make Neteyam choke a little on his drink across from you.

Ao’nung leans closer to your face with a devilish look, “Prove it, then. I dare you.”

Your jaw clenches while you mentally wrestle with yourself. Were you really about to do this? Just to prove a point? What point were you even trying to actually prove? But you didn’t want to back out now. Fuck it.

“Fine. Who wants to go first?” You look between the three of them and each of them have a different expression on their faces. Neteyam looks borderline horrified at the suggestion. Lo’ak is in disbelief. And Ao’nung looks smug as hell. “I’ll do it. Doubt you’ll actually see it through though” he taunts. He stands to undo his loincloth while you do the same.

Neteyam and Lo’ak are wide-eyed at the scene unfolding front of them. “Bro, is this for real?” Neteyam leans over and asks Lo’ak not fully believing what he’s witnessing. “Bro, I sure hope it is.”

You lie on your back and let your knees fall open to expose your glistening cunt. Ao’nung has a quick flash of amazement run across his face before he replaces it with his signature sly grin. “So wet already. Is that all for me?” he teases while rubbing his tip through your slick.

“You wish. This is for our audience.” You retort and shoot a wink to the two brothers watching in disbelief. Both of their faces are flushed, but Lo’ak’s eyes are already staring at you full of lust. Your eyes snap back to Ao’nung when he starts to sink into you.

Your mouth falls open feeling the way he stretches you. Truth was, you had only had sex once before. It was stupid and didn’t last that long and you both agreed to not tell anybody about it. Clearly, you were the only one that held up your end of the agreement and that’s part of the reason you’re even in this situation right now.

Ao’nung was much bigger than the other guy and the fullness makes tears start to prick at the corners of your eyes, but you fight to hold them back. By the time he bottoms out inside of you, your fingers are digging into the sand beneath you trying to steady yourself while you adjust to his intruding size.

“Damn, so fucking tight. You sure you’re not a virgin?” he’s trying to tease you, but you can see how his breathing starts to stagger. He sets a slow pace steadily thrusting into your heat. Your eyes close feeling his hips roll into yours. The pain quickly subsided and left only pleasure in its wake. Soft moans leave your lips feeling how he grazes your sweet spot. You lock your legs around his waist pulling him impossibly closer to you. “Oh fuck, right there.”

Ao’nung can’t take the sound of your voice. It’s driving him crazy to watch the way his cock sinks into you over and over again. He had secretly wanted this for so long. To have you right now, hair splayed out, eyes rolling back, and sweet moans leaving your mouth, it’s more than he can bear. He buries his face in your neck breathing in your scent and letting it cloud his senses.

You look over at Neteyam and Lo’ak relishing in the feeling of being watched. Neteyam has a hard time holding his eyes on you, but Lo’ak is completely tuned in and stroking himself through his loincloth. His eyes don’t leave you for a second. Something about knowing that he’s watching you be used and knowing that he’s touching himself just dying to be inside of you turns you on even more. It makes the growing knot in your stomach tighten even more, just seconds away from snapping. “Oh shit…I’m gonna cum.”

Ao’nung sits up on his knees and throws your legs on his shoulders to angle your hips up and drill directly into your sweet spot. “Ah!..Ao’nung ha-ah….I’m cumming!” your head falls back and your hands desperately search for something to grab onto while your first orgasm washes over you. Ao’nung grunts above you feeling how your walls clench him even tighter and now he’s nearing his own high.

Once you ride out your high, he pulls out of you and strokes himself over you until he cums on your stomach. It’s hot and thick, but the feeling grounds you back into reality. Both of your chests are heaving trying to catch your breath.

You look up at him while he’s composing himself, “Told you.”

He chuckles lowly, “Don’t start talking shit just yet. You still have 2 more to go.” He grabs his loincloth and starts to redo it.

Lo’ak practically jumps from his place in the sand. He’s been eager to get his turn since you first agreed. It was almost painful how hard he was. He unties his loincloth and even you can notice how big your eyes get. His cock springs to life already rock hard and oozing precum. The length and girth are completely different from Metkayina men. Suddenly one of your friends’ words make sense to you now. ‘It’s always the skinny ones that surprise you.’ Guess she wasn’t joking.

He watches your face in amusement. He knew he was blessed and he had no intention of being humble about it.

“Alright, how do you want m—”

Before you can finish your thought, Lo’ak had already flipped you over and hoisted your hips up into the air. “Just like that.” His hands slide up and down your thick thighs and his calloused fingers grip the plush of your ass. He grips and spreads and smacks just relishing in the view of your arousal dripping down your legs. He feels like his head is spinning.

You prepare yourself for him to enter you, but instead, he uses his tongue and licks one long stripe from your clit up to your dripping hole and tongue fucks you. Now, this was a completely new sensation. It was like nothing you’d ever felt before and it was like heaven. “Fuck, you taste even better than I imagined.”

Little squeals and mewls fall from your mouth while his tongue pokes and prods inside of you. His hands continue exploring your ass and spreading you open even more for easier access.

Once he’s had his fill, he sits up on his knees and aligns himself with your hole. You feel the tip poke at your entrance and suddenly there’s lightning shooting through you as he rams his entire length into you at once.

He gives you no real time to adjust as he starts pounding into you. “Shit, man you weren’t kidding. She is fucking tight.” He’s pulled into a trance watching the way your ass bounces back against his hips. Your moans are loud and shameless. He reaches a new depth that feels like he’s poking into your stomach. It’s almost too much, but when you look over at Ao’nung and Neteyam, the way Neteyam starts to bite his lip listening to you and Ao’nung is casually stroking himself watching you, you can’t even be bothered to think about anything else but how much you want them to watch you more.

“Haah…more! More Lo’ak!” you breathlessly plead. Your body starts to move on its own throwing your hips back into him to meet his thrusts. You’re trying to push him even deeper into you which would normally hurt, but in the fog of your desire, it gives you nothing but satisfaction.

Lo’ak leans forward and reaches around to start rubbing messy circles on your clit. “Ah! Fuck!” The stimulation makes your whole lower body feel like electricity.

“Yeah, cum on that dick. Just like that.” His breath is hot against the shell of your ear and your body starts to shake under the force of your second orgasm. It’s too much to contain and you can feel an even more intense feeling taking over you right at the very peak. “Shit shit shit!” You have no time to get any more words out before you squirt all over Lo’ak’s lower body and hand. His fingers on your clit rub back and forth spraying your juices everywhere while he still pounds into you chasing his own high. “Ah! Lo-ak! Fuck!” Hearing how your voice calls out his name pushes him over the edge. He quickly pulls out of you at the last second and pumps his fist up and down his shaft until his hot cum spills onto your back.

Your legs finally give way and you fall into the sand. Lo’ak stands and pulls his loincloth back on. A dull ache starts to settle in your core from all the abuse it’s taken, but you harden your resolve knowing that there was still one more. You all turn to look at Neteyam and his face flushes feeling put on the spot. If you were being totally transparent, Neteyam was the one you were most curious about. Unlike most men his age, he didn’t go around bragging about his size or his sexual conquests. He has always been more reserved when it came to that kind of stuff. He was a wild card. You didn’t really know what to expect from him.

“Come on, bro. You’ve got to. Swear you won’t regret it.” Lo’ak says lightly slapping his shoulder.

He hesitates and stumbles over his words trying to pick whatever he feels like is the right answer. While he speaks, you notice the huge bulge under his loincloth. You muster all the strength you can find in your body and crawl over to him slow and sensually. His eyes lock on you and he watches as you get right between his legs and play with the knot on the waistband of his cloth. “Come on ‘Teyam. Come play with me.”

He swallows hard while you untie his loincloth and free his throbbing cock. His size may be the most impressive. It’s similar to Lo’ak, but slightly skinnier and about an inch longer. Your subconscious panics a little thinking about how it was going to fit inside of you. Lo’ak was already crowding your cervix when he was inside of you, but your conscious mind has already decided that you’re just going to have to make it fit.

Your hand strokes his dick experimentally watching his expression intently. He holds your gaze while his breathing gets quicker. The two of you don’t say a word, but your eyes say everything. You silently ask him if he’s okay with this and tell him it’s fine if he’s not. But he gives you the go ahead to continue finally giving in.

You carefully straddle his lap and grind your cunt against him and coat him in your slick and the remnants of your last orgasm. His hands rest on your hips while you grind on him. “We’ll just take it easy, okay?” you say gently to him and he nods.

You lift your hips and catch his tip right on your entrance. You lower yourself down on him slowly to help ease him into it, but also because your hole is so worn out from the previous beatings and you need to take his size slowly. Inch by inch he reaches deeper and deeper into you until you could swear he’s knocking on the bottom of your lungs. It’s almost hard to even breathe by the time you make it all the way down. He watches your face trying to make sure that you’re okay and he’s not hurting you. You have to bite your lip to hold back the soft sobs that want to escape from the twinge of pain. You just have to push past this discomfort and then it’ll be fine. That’s how it goes. Slowly, you start to rock your hips back and forth on top of him. From the way Neteyam’s eyebrows knit together, you can tell he feels good and that helps you to relax and start to feel good too. You guide his hands to grip your ass, “It’s okay” you whisper to him. You let his hands grip you and lead your hips to where it feels best for him. Soon, he starts to let his hips buck up into you and it’s overwhelming. “Haah…oh fuck Neteyam…” your head feels dizzy while he strokes up into you. He’s much more gentle than Ao’nung or Lo’ak and, for now, you thank Eywa for that. Your hands grip his braids and hold his head close to your chest where Neteyam kisses and licks and sucks on every single inch of skin he can see. His big arms completely wrap around your waist to hold you in place while he ruts into you faster and harder.

“Shit, just look at how good she takes it. Maybe those rumors are true.” Lo’ak says to Ao’nung somewhere behind you. You almost forgot you had an audience and the thought of them watching as your ass bounces up and down on Neteyam’s dick sends you into a frenzy. Moans and curses weave together as they leave your mouth losing yourself on top of Neteyam. He lets out low, guttural groans feeling your heat hugging around him perfectly. Even in his best dreams, he hasn’t imagined you feeling this good. And he dreamed about it a lot.

That knot is growing in your stomach again and it’s back with a vengeance. “’Teyam, I-I’m gonna cum!”

“Shit, me too.”

You cling onto him for dear life trying to chase that high. You don’t bother to get off of him when he says he’s going to cum. All that matters is reaching that euphoria. When the knot snaps, it breaks with the force of a typhoon. Your mind goes completely blank and your vision spots with white dots, but your body moves on autopilot still rising and sinking on his cock. “Hng..shit..” Neteyam can’t hold off his own release anymore with the way your walls are squeezing him and he spills everything he has inside of you.

The fire in your core damn near sends you over the edge again, but you finally feel yourself fall back into your body as you come down.

Both of you are sweaty and clinging onto one another while your minds clear the lustful stupor you both got caught up in.

Neteyam helps lift your hips up just high enough so that he can pull out of you. The emptiness makes you wince, but you’re relieved. You fall back into the sand and stare up at the sky while the night’s events race through your head.

Ao’nung slow claps off to the side of you. “I have to admit, I didn’t think you’d be able to do it, but I’ll concede. You proved me wrong.”

Bullshit. He never cared about being proven wrong or right. And you knew that, but you couldn’t find it in you to give a damn.

A wide smile split your face and you turn your head to look at him.

“We should play this again some time.”

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moonpetrichors-blog · 1 year

Note

hiii, merry christmas!! (if you celebrate) 🫶 i loved ur dating lo’ak hcs and i was wondering if u could write something based on patching him up after a fight like you mentioned in the hcs?

Cuts and Bruises

Tags: Lo’ak x Reader, Oneshot, Fluff, Avatar 2, Female!Reader, After-Action Patch-Up

Warnings: Cuts, Blood, Bruises (Not Too Explicit), Punch Fight, Swearing

Lo’ak got into another punch fight with the boys from the Metkayina clan, so you help tend to him afterwards.

Merry late christmas ♥ tysm for the ask lol I’ve been dying to write more about Lo’ak, he’s so cute ^^ I absolutely love the idea of him constantly getting into trouble and you’re the one who has to force him to take care of himself LMAO

Edit 2: I was going to beat the shit out of my laptop because it decided to shut down when I was in the middle of writing this and I hadn’t saved it. So! 🥰

* ˚ ✦ 665 Words • Read below the cut

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-╰┈➤ ❝ [26/12/22] ❞

“Your girl is a freak!”

Lo'ak was furious, trembling from anger. All he could see when those words escaped Aonung's lips was red. Aonung could ridicule him for his appearance and tease his siblings, but you? Now that was pushing it.

Lo'ak struck the boy, and a brawl broke out near the rocks before he realized it. Lo'ak pummeled Aonung in the face with a barrage of punches; tails were being pulled, and blows were being exchanged. It was a bloody spectacle, to say the least. Lo'ak only ceased his heinous attacks when an outraged Neteyam hauled him away from Aonung mid-punch.

Lo'ak spat out the blood that had gathered in his mouth, and wiped his wounded lip with his battered fist. Aonung stood up, stunned, but a smile danced across his lips nonetheless. Neteyam pointed a finger at Aonung and ordered him to back off, then dragged Lo'ak away from the scene by the bicep before he could worsen the situation.

Aonung jeered and slapped his friend on the chest in a fit of laughter. “Pfft. Freaks go together, no wonder they’re dating.”

Lo’ak twisted out of Neteyam’s grip and stalked over to Aonung again. “Don’t talk shit about my girlfriend, you fish lipped dickhead!”

Neteyam sighed deeply as Lo’ak punched Aonung. Again.

...

To say the least, you were gobsmacked. Lo'ak looked dreadful, and seated across from you right now, he appeared more downcast than anything else. He'd just returned from a stern talking to with his father, which had left him looking distraught.

“Are you okay? What happened to you?”

Lo'ak refused to meet your gaze. You delicately took his hands in yours and brushed your thumb across the ridges of his knuckles. You noted how he grimaced at your touch, and frowned when you realized how much his hands were injured. You sat up to search for the first aid kit in his modest home; you know where it is now, as embarrassing as that may be, because you've patched up your boyfriend more times than you can count.

Lo’ak’s voice carried over in the space between the two of you. “I just wanted to protect you. He called you a freak!”

You suppressed a laugh. You, a freak? What did you even do to be insulted so ludicrously? You assumed Aonung had said that to get under Lo’ak’s skin, which he clearly succeeded in, as that word was a soft spot for him. Now he was seated away from you, waiting to be tended to.

He spoke dejectedly. “All my dad thinks of me is that I’m a troublemaking failure.”

Your heart hammered in your chest at his words. “You’re not a failure, Lo’ak. You’re the kindest person I know, and beating the shit out of Aonung to protect my name proves that.”

You nestled in Lo'ak's lap, dabbing a cloth with antiseptic. You cupped his cheek, pressed a tender kiss to his nose, and proceeded to pat the damp cloth on his injured lip. You then moved away from him and did the same to his knuckles, delicately tending to his wounds. Lo'ak grumbled.

“Sorry.” You murmured.

As you continued to treat him, you nibbled on your lower lip, and he sighed. You reached for a roll of bandages. Finally relaxing his muscles, Lo’ak laughed at your focused expression.

He observed your deft fingers. “Do you think I shouldn’t have punched him?”

After unrolling the bandages, you wrapped his hand in them, securing your work carefully. “Only partially.”

Once you were done, Lo’ak raised his fist to examine your workmanship. He praised your first aid skills, and you laughed.

“I wouldn’t be so good at it if I didn’t have to do it so much.”

Lo'ak hummed in response to your statement. “Sorry, I know it must be kind of annoying you have to do this all the time.”

“Don’t be. I love spending time with you.”

He smiled softly at that, rubbing his neck in embarrassment. “Me too.”

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soulcandi · 8 months

Text

𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 (𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬) | 𝐣𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 - 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨

synopsis: you knew that jake's arrival would mean nothing but trouble for you. even so, all he wants is a chance to prove that he can play nice.

warnings: jake's pov, alternating povs, mutual pining, written with afab!reader in mind, reader has a na'vi name, language barrier, age difference.

a/n: i hope its obvious that the line breaks sort of indivate a change in pov. it seemed obvious when i posted this on ao3 but now im not so sure with the tumblr formatting. anyway, hope you like!

word count: 2,790

masterlist, previous chapter, next chapter

“This is ridiculous.”

Neither you nor Tsireya dignified your brother’s complaint with a response. Ao’nung lagged behind the two of you, arms empty while yours were both stacked high with baskets of fruit and blankets to offer your new guests.

“This is our duty,” Tsireya corrected, words formed behind a smile she refused to let slip for one second. Walking beside her, you greeted each of the passing villagers as warmly as the last. After showing Toruk Makto and his family to the empty shelter at the end of the lifted pathways that intersected over the sandbar, you disappeared to collect your siblings before dragging them back along with you.

“Ao’nung, you will take his sons and show them where we keep the ilu. Teach them how we hunt within the reef.”

“But–”

“Within the reef.”

You weren’t a stranger to his habits of straying far from the village, sometimes wandering as far as Three Brothers Rock all while coercing the youngest and most impressionable of his friends to tag along. You didn’t have to turn around to guess what face he was pulling behind your back.

“Why would I ever do such a thing?”

“Because it is expected of you. We will not let these people suffer the shame of being useless.” You could only pray to the great mother he was not yet sharp enough to catch you in your lie. Father didn’t send you to collect your siblings. In fact, no one did. Nor did he present Ao’nung with the task of teaching the sons of Toruk Makto to fish. That was an order of your own invention — one you hoped would help cultivate new friendships.

“The sooner you teach, the faster they learn. Do it quick and do it right.”

He let out an exasperated huff but made no visible display of his frustrations as you neared the end of the pier.

“May I take Kiri to the storyteller’s marui?” Tsireya asked, struggling to balance the bundle of blankets at the very top of her basket.

“That is a wonderful idea. Thank you, ‘Siri.”

It was your duty as eldest sister to ignore the glare she sent over her shoulder and the growl you heard from Ao’nung not a second later. “If that’s settled, I will take the little one to see the ilu as well. I caught her admiring the pod of younglings this morning.”

Tuk was really the only one in her family who seemed enthralled by your tour of the Awa'atlu Village, but that could have had more to do with how much she was able to sleep during the journey than your skills as a guide.

“You’re forgetting something,” your brother taunted, hopping down the woven platform and making it warp under your feet.

“I forget nothing.”

“What of the mighty Toruk Makto? Who will teach him our ways?”

You bit down softly on the inside of your cheek, not allowing your grin to slip through the cracks of your polite rehearsed smile. Your plans for Toruk Makto were still under development, but they were yours nonetheless. He could one day make a fierce warrior in your clan if he was able to grasp the way of water.

“That is my responsibility to bear, not yours.”

“Tsurak is a warrior’s mount.”

Tonowari’s countless warnings fell on deaf ears. I growled behind the leather band pinned between my teeth as the creature below me thrashed and threatened to break free from the five men holding it still in the shallow water.

“Perhaps it would be wise to start with an ilu? They are far more gentle creatures. More forgiving.”

As the thought of giving up crossed my mind, the tsurak’s eyes seemed to roll over and glare up at me from beneath a thin film of seawater. It was daring me to try again—begging me for the thrill of bucking another cocky warrior off it’s back.

“Nah,” I sniffed, matching it’s unsettling glare. “This one.”

Tonowari made a tight fist in the leads, offering me a chance to back out. But we both knew better than that. When I made no move to call it off, he stepped aside with a dismissive shrug and I didn’t waste another second before throwing myself over the wide, armored creature and tightening the leather strap around my fist until I was sure there was no way in hell it would give way. I wouldn’t let myself be thrown off so easily. Not like last time.

When I was properly mounted, he signaled his men to release the beast into the water.

Swimming with the tsurak was nothing at all like driving an Ikran. The wind never threatened to throw me off like the currents did. In the human labs we left behind in the forests of the Omaticaya, we called them skimwings. If I thought they looked spooky on paper, it was nothing compared to seeing one in person or feeling them beat the water with their sharp fins.

My airtime was short-lived and the tsurak dove unexpectedly, forcing me to lose my footing. As if it could sense my unreadiness, it took off into the water, dragging me behind by the leather binding. It took a painful few moments to reach up against the current and sever my grip from the armored backplate, and by the time I was able to free myself, a winding pattern of painful burns had been seared into my hand.

When I finally surfaced, I could hear the laughter of Tonowari’s men a little ways behind me. My shoulders tensed and I felt my ears fall back against my head in humilation. My dedication wouldn’t amount to much in the end if I couldn’t prove my worth here soon.

I was in the throes of preparing myself to turn and face their mockery when I heard a voice from the beach, spilling out over the still water like a lullaby.

“You are very lucky, Tuk. I didn’t make my first bond until I was your sister’s age. This way, she will grow with you.”

I twisted in place until I found the two of you wading in the waist deep waters further downshore. A woven basket was balanced on your hip and every so often you would reach in and hand Tuk a small fish to offer the infant ilu that swam in circles around her legs. She laughed and the sound alone coaxed a real smile from me.

I could have stayed there all day just watching the two of you talk. Maybe if I had, I wouldn’t feel half the gult for stripping my children of their home, or dragging them halfway across Pandora for a fresh start. When I saw you with her, laughing—a sound I hadn’t heard from her in the longest time—I felt like I was doing something right for a change, no matter how often Lo’ak’s temper or Kiri’s distant stares reminded me otherwise.

You glanced up toward the reef for a split second and my cover was blown. I considered diving below a nearby cluster of rocks, but when you caught my eye, your smile instantly widened and you used your free hand to offer me a quick wave of recognition. For a moment, I could forget that I’d just made the biggest fool out of myself twice over to admire how the ocean breeze drew the hair across your shoulders.

It was the tide that drew me in toward the shore. Nothing else.

“Dad! Look!”

Your eyes shot up from stroking the chin of the youngling ilu to see Toruk Makto emerging from the deep waters of the training pool, taking long purposeful strides in your direction. His blazing amber eyes were once again pinned on you and not even the rivers of seawater cascading down his face could have convinced him to give up that predatory hold.

Just when you thought he might actually pounce, his eyes flickered down toward his daughter with a fond look. “Whatcha got there, babygirl?”

Your smile tightened at the sound of those foreign words leaving his lips. You knew in the back of your mind that Na’vi couldn’t have been his mothertongue. Ronal, your mother, could only rave so long about the halfbreeds and their evil English ancestry. It was the language of the skypeople. It was forbidden. But why then did it sound so beautiful dripping from his lips?

“My ilu!” Tuk replied, wrapping her arms around it’s long neck in a warm embrace. Toruk Makto crouched down low in the water beside her, reaching out his hand for the animal to inspect. When the ilu discovered that he was in no possession of fish, it returned all of its attention to Tuk, who was more than delighted to receive it. “Can we go swim?” she asked you in Na’vi, already bouncing in excitement.

You nodded, gesturing out into the protective pool. It had no access to the open waters and she was safe to explore the coral arches and hidden treasures of the reef until high tide struck in a few hours time. “Of course. She’s yours.”

No faster than you said this did she take the young ilu by the leads and disappear into the deeper waters. You lost sight of them quickly and the only indication that they were still there at all were the trails of bubble surfacing in the near distance.

Toruk Makto rose to his full height and only then did you turn to face him directly. He was still panting from his latest attempt to mount the tsurak, his glistening chest heaving as he watched you watch him in return. Suddenly embarrassed, you dropped your eyes to the white sands. In all of your father’s coaching on how to address representitives of the neighboring clans, no where did he say to wade half-nude in the waters and exchange poorly masked longing looks.

“Toruk Makto—”

“Jake.”

Your head shot up just to see him smiling down at you. It was a type of smile you’d only ever caught on the faces of village boys right before you felt a sharp yank on your tail. It meant nothing but trouble.

All of the surprise you felt must’ve been conveyed through your blank expression because within a second, that dangerous smile of his was wiped clean from his face and he held his hands up defensively parallel to his shoulders. “No, no, no, shit —you didn’t do anything wrong,” he assured you, whisking a wet lock of hair out of his face as he mentally kicked himself for frightening you.

Nice going, Sully.

“It’s just…I haven’t been Toruk Makto in a very long time.”

As much as you believed yourself to be wise beyond your years, you knew very little of clan politics outside of the village you were born and raised in. Toruk Makto was the savior of Eywa’eveng and all of her children in the times of great sorrow. It never occured to you that he could vanish just as easily as he appeared on your beaches so many years ago.

Your tail swayed back and forth idly in the waters behind you, stirring the sand into a murky cloud that mimicked the loss you felt inside your heart. “Perhaps Ilu Makto, then?” you tested, head tilted to the side. “Since tsurak has proved too much a challenge.”

Over his shoulder, you spotted Jake’s short tail whisking playfully as he processed your joke. With the shake of his head, he laughed. It was a sweet sound, the first of it’s kind since his arrival. His impossibly sharp canines peeked out from between his lips and he brushed a bead of water from his chin with the back of his hand. “I was hoping you didn’t see that.”

“Believe me, there wasn’t much to see of anything.”

You knew you were pushing your luck. His sense of humor was still a mystery to you. For all you knew, your first comment could have exiled you from his good graces as soon as it left your mouth.

Glancing out at the training pool, you watched your father take flight on his bonded tsurak. He had not yet noticed his outcasted guest standing alone on the shores with his eldest daughter. Knowing it was best to keep it that way, you excused yourself from the conversation with a shallow bow.

“You’re funny,” Jake panted, jogging to keep pace with your long strides as you made your way down the beach toward the ilu nest. You would offer the rest of the fish as treats for the younglings. You watched him out of the corner of your eye, not allowing yourself to devote your full attention. “I didn’t expect that.”

“Funny?” It was yet another word from his native vocabulary that you didn’t understand. Curiosity overpowered your rational thinking and you slowed to a stop behind a large outcropping of black volcanic rock.

“Yeah, funny,” he explained, stopping so close that you were practically nose to nose. “Of good humor. You inspire laughter.”

You fought the grin fighting it’s way onto your cheeks, holding two fingers against your rebellious lips as you took a cautious step backward. “I inspire nothing,” you argued, shaking off the shimmyflies that beat like thunder against your chest before continuing your march back toward the village center.

Just when you thought you might have convinced him to drop it, the basket under your arm disappeared and you turned around to see Jake holding it high above your head. “Hey!”

He only chuckled, holding it up higher when you made a pathetic grab for it. As a matter of fact, he could name a few things you inspired.

You were in the midst of preparing a worthy response when you caught a glimpse of the snake of burns that trailed down his arm. You gasped, and the sound was nearly enough to convince Jake to drop your basket to the sand. “Ma Eywa,” you whispered sympathetically.

He turned his palm inward, wincing as he inspected the length of his injury. It somehow looked worse than it did immediately after the incident that caused it, angry and irritated with lack of attention. It stung, sure, but it was nothing near lethal.

“Tsurak is a worthy adversary,” Jake hissed, flexing his hand just to prove he still could. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, and he would be lying if he said concern didn’t look good on you. “But until I am Tsurak Makto, you will call me Jake.”

You refused to look away from his fresh wound, head reeling with slivers of information you from your mother’s Tsahìk teachings. The leaves of seaberries soothed shallow burns like this one. You would need to collect some immediately.

“Hey,” Jake snapped his fingers close to your ear, startling you. “What do you call me?”

Your basket was still held out of your reach. He was taunting you with his sheer height. On one hand, you were relieved that your terrible excuse for a joke did not offend him, but on the other hand, you appeared to have done something much worse by awakening the insolent child that had been resting dormant at his core.

“Jake,” you said slowly, testing the sound of it as the word rolled off your tongue.

He looked pleased, holding the half-empty basket out to you like a peace offering. “That’s right. Now what do I call you?”

There it is; the power. He was laying it all right at your feet. Any respectable woman in your village would have turned her nose at the game he was trying to play. Unfortunately for everyone involved, you weren’t just any other woman, and you didn’t turn your nose to anyone.

“I am Ällora te Ätwì Ronal'ite. But until I am Tsahìk of the Metkayina clan, you may refer to me as Ällora.”

It felt like you were revealing a secret. Something sacred. And if the return of that mischievous look in his eye was any indication, you knew it was a power that would soon be abused. “Ällora,” he sighed, letting each syllable feed into his triumphant smile. “Yeah, I like that. Suits you.”

He gestured once more for you to take the basket and you did so with great caution, not eager to fall victim to another one of his teases. Right when you expected him to draw back and make you beg for it, he held himself dangerously still. “See?” he said, tail still flicking like a whip below his waist. “I can play nice.”

You hummed, eyes narrowed as you turned away for a final time. “We’ll see for how long.”

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