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benkeibear · 2 months

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⋆꙳✧༄ Their hand slips

꒰ ͜͡➸ In which their hand (almost) slips and puts a strain on your relationship.

❖ Characters: Toji, Yuuta, Inumaki

❖ Reader: female | AFAB

❖ Wordcount: 4,3k

❖ WARNINGS: Toji being a good husband and almost snapping, getting pushed and slapped (accidentally), Toge using his technique on you, overall sogginess, hurt to comfort

❖ A/n: don’t want to miss a post? Sign up for my Taglist in my Navi! | Part 2 with Nanami, Yuuji and Gojo in works! A big thank you to @kakushino and @suyacho for the brainstorming and making me pull through 🫶

☰ Toji:

Being with Toji has always been a rollercoaster of emotions, but you never doubted his love for you, despite him being rough around the edges. Yes, he might disappear for days, sometimes weeks after a fight, but he never once lifted his hand or indicated that he would physically hurt you. If the fight was over something dumb, you would usually end up in the bedroom to get his anger out in a fun way while making up again.

You don't even know what started the fight today - was it the dishes he didn't do? Perhaps he left the laundry in the laundry machine? All you know is that you've been screaming at each other for well over an hour; your throat was already sore, but you wouldn't stop now. Toji was just beyond annoyed at your little tantrum, at least that's what it was to him. “I said I'd take care of it, didn't I? The day isn't over yet,” he tried the calm way at first, his jaw clenching in frustration when you screamed back how tired you are from work.

Things carried on like this for a while, Toji losing his cool after you screamed at him right away and he started to scream back until you were just throwing around profanities. At least until you said something you shouldn't have “No wonder your last two wives left you, you live like a damn pig." It wasn't too bad, but it was a sore topic for him and his hand raised… simply staying up in the air without ever connecting to your face, but it was enough for you to flinch away. Toji's jaw tensed up further, his teeth almost cracking from the pure pressure, when he realized what he almost did - crossing a boundary that should never be crossed and you look at him like he's a monster now. Perhaps he was and you were right, make it three wives, it's deserved now that his hand almost struck you.

Ever so slowly, he brought his hand down from its spot up in the air, trying not to startle you further when he reached to cup your cheek, the anger in his eyes turning to desperation. Out of reflex, you flinched from his touch, your body still in flight mode from almost getting struck by him and Toji recoiled his hand quickly while nodding to himself. The anger flamed up behind his eyes once again upon realizing just how badly he had messed up. Anger rose up and he couldn't contain himself any longer. “FUCK” he roared, making you stumble backwards just to get away from him before he punched a hole into the wall. You barely recognized the man in front of you since he'd never been this violent around you or directed at you. The thought of drawing a single breath of air scared you with him raging around and you simply held your breath, your entire body shaking like a leaf in a heavy storm, but before you found your voice again, he stormed out of your shared home, grabbing his coat on the way out of the front door.

Relief was the first thing you felt when you finally felt like you could exhale once again. The air was less tense with him out of the room and upon looking around your usually tidy kitchen, you saw the battlefield he'd left behind. The hole in the wall was gaping and your favorite candle holder, the one he gifted you simply because you thought the cat warming its paws looked so cute, was now on the floor and shattered into hundreds of small pieces. You didn't care much for the cushions laying around or the chairs scattered across the room, but you cradled the severed porcelain head of the small cat to your chest as you fell to your knees when the first wave of shock wore off. Toji has left. He's gone now and given how both of you crossed boundaries and he almost hit you, it didn't give you much hope for his return. A bitter laugh crossed your sobs when you thought of the small candle holder scattered and how it represented your broken relationship.

After what felt like an eternity on the floor, you had the courage to get up once again, slowly putting things back where they used to stand before picking up each and every piece of Tojis present. You needed to get your mind off of his departure, he sure would return - latest when he had to get his things - you told yourself, trying to calm the mess that was in your head. Dedicated, you brought the pieces to the living room, where his show was running as always, your favorite background noise in your daily life and piece by piece, you glued the little candle holder back together until it looked somewhat like it used to and it gave you hope - perhaps you could do the same to your relationship?

Once the distraction wore off, you found yourself sitting on the unusually empty couch, sitting in his favorite spot and the silence was deafening. The show stopped playing a while ago, Netflix asked you if you're still watching, and the tears started to form in your eyes once again. Perhaps he will be back soon? Your hope wore thinner with every hour that has passed, only hoping that he will come back eventually one day at this point. Sure, you've had worse fights with him, but it never got physical, this one felt much more charged and intense like all the others before, so perhaps he's sick of the constant fighting, sick of you…

Slowly, you sunk your face into the pillow on the couch and brought your knees to your chest as you wept. His show was now playing once again to bring you at least a little comfort as you drifted off into a restless slumber, the moment where he almost struck you, replaying in your head over and over again.

Toji wandered around the block at first, contemplating getting drunk out of his mind and simply disappearing out of your life forever since he has nothing to offer you but his heart and body, but now he wasn't sure if that was enough - if he was enough and he hated these thoughts. He could have any woman he wanted, so why is he so damn attached to you? Answers didn't come by as he sat down in the park and gulped down a cheap beer, but the longer he sat there, the more reasons he found just why he was with you and how you made him feel things no one managed to ignite in so long. It was clear to him that he would need to go back, that he would need to fix things with you, for his own sake because he'd be lost without you once again.

By the time Toji got up from the old bench at the park it was almost morning already. The birds were chirping softly in the trees and he took a deep breath in, preparing himself to lose you once and for all since he couldn't force you to forgive him after all, but he would promise to be better. He vowed to be a good partner and later on to be a good husband to you and not once did he make you regret trusting him since he was always nothing but good to you. His posture was slightly slouched when he entered the apartment, ready to find the mess he left behind in the kitchen, but it looked as if nothing ever happened here - aside from the hole in the wall that felt like a plow to his guts. That could have been your face, the realization setting in once again over what happened and how badly he damaged the trust in this relationship with his cowardly reaction.

Shaking his head at his thought, he made his way back to the door, only to be met by your weak voice somewhere behind him. “Toji?” was all you asked, your voice sounding tired and so fragile from hours of crying and he flinched, dreading your next words. “Don't leave… please,” You continue and sit up now to look at him. “I'm just here to get my thi- you want me to stay?” He sounded rather surprised that you didn't send him out, cussing him and his entire bloodline out as he got his things. Toji was so prepared for rejection that he didn't even consider you would want him to stay, but you did, so he dragged himself over to the couch where you sat, waiting to face him. Your bloodshot eyes shocked him, have you been crying all night over him? Over the situation, or perhaps the divorce you surely wanted?

“I'm sorry,” was all that he croaked out, his ego crushed and the confidence that usually radiated off of him was entirely gone. He was nothing but a miserable pile in front of you in this moment. It took you a minute or two to fully register his words - his apology and you simply nodded, knowing he wasn't great with words, especially apologies. Silence fell upon both of you once again, unsure how to go on from here. Both of you were uncomfortable with the situation, but you were the first to find your words again, having spent the night thinking about what you wanted and ultimately what you would say to him. But right now, this was all thrown out of the window when you looked at him and reached out for his hands, trying to show that you're no longer scared.

“Listen to me. If you ever raise a hand to me again, Toji Fushiguru, I will cut out your heart and eat it for breakfast. Do you understand me?” You asked with a much more secure voice and it almost scared him because he knew you took that threat seriously, but a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips now. “That's my wife,” he chuckled a little, wondering if he extinguished your flame with fear, but you weren't one to crumble, not from him or his foolish actions.

Unasked Toji whisked you up into his strong arms and carried you to the bedroom, refusing to let go of you for even a second as he smothered you between his arms and chest. Things weren't okay and they won't be for a while, but at least you knew that he was willing to work on himself and that you were willing to stay, so things could be alright again one day.

☰ Yuuta:

You were always Yuuta's first priority and he never failed to make it clear that you knew that there's no one and nothing more important to him than you. Yet he had to save the world as usual, exorcizing a curse here, helping out there and more often than not, you found yourself alone in your shared home, talking limited to texts and phone calls. He tried his hardest to make sure you're always on his mind, even if he's not physically with you, especially then, but you slowly felt like this wasn't the case. It felt like he was running away from home, from you to be alone, to be with Rika rather than you for the old days sake.

This gut wrenching thought became especially painful when you ran into him in the grocery store when he claimed to be on the other side of the world and not in fact in the same grocery store or even the same city. You didn't want to cause a scene, not there out of all places, so you abandoned your shopping cart and walked out, ignoring the hurt puppy look from your boyfriend. Dropping the chocolates he held previously, he charged after you, “Wait, please. Let me explain!” He called after you and caught up with your rather fast pace, but you didn't pay any attention to him, fearing the worst.

And sometimes your own mind can be the worst enemy, as you now convinced yourself that Yuuta was leading some sort of double life, a secret life hidden away from you and you didn't want to see his face a second longer. When the young man held onto your wrist to get you to stop running from him, it felt as if your skin was burning. You quickly tugged your hand out of his grasp and glared at him. “Stop causing a damn scene, Okkotsu,” you hissed under your breath and Yuuta knew he was in trouble by the way you only used his last name, so much venom behind your words. All he wanted to do was surprise you with your favorite flowers and some sweets since he was home almost an entire week earlier and he didn't understand the tantrum you were throwing at that moment. Yes, he did lie to you and told you he wouldn't be home for at least another five days, but he was already on his way back to you, his home. Was he wrong that he wanted to surprise you just to have you jump into his arms five days earlier than initially planned?

The walk home was awkward and silent, the air around you two was charged with strong emotions and unspoken words - words none of you dared to speak until the front door to your apartment was closed and you whipped around, facing him with an expression full of anger and hurt. “Why did you lie to me? Am I not good enough for you anymore?” You immediately asked, letting your inner fear take over instead of trying to think rationally, but Yuuta immediately shook his head. “It's not like that, I promise!” His voice was rather submissive, hating to have fights with you, especially for the dumbest reasons, but you couldn't contain your anger, your presence alone made him take a step back. He knew you would never lay a hand on him, but the air around you was so thick that he feared to suffocate if he couldn't keep some distance. “Don't come at me with that bullshit, Yuuta. You promised not to lie to me and here you are… avoiding me despite being back. Do you have someone else? Do you miss Rika so much that you can't bear to be with me?” You questioned, taking steps towards your boyfriend despite his silent plea to keep distance. It's unfair of you to bring Rika up in this situation, both of you knew this, but you didn't care. The way he was always talking about her started to gnaw at your heart, slowly building a deep insecurity that you're just someone he settled for because he couldn't have the one he wanted. Perhaps he found a better replacement? That was your initial thought when you saw him smiling to himself at the grocery store. Little do you know, he was thinking about your gleeful smile when he came home early.

Yuuta barely opened his mouth after what felt like an eternity of silence when he reached for your hands, hoping you let him explain, hoping you calmed down enough to start thinking rationally. “Please, just listen, okay?” He started, his voice small since he didn't want things to escalate, fearing to lose you as much as you fear the same. You were his anchor, his safety vest out in the ocean that kept him afloat when everything was against him. He made the mistake of touching you, trying to get closer to you when you were so charged and it made you feel crowded, pushing him off of you, so he let go of your wrists. He would have let go if only you had asked, showing him he makes you uncomfortable, but before he could stop it, it was already too late.

Rika pushed you away from him much harsher than he would have ever allowed and he recoiled, backing away from your curled up body after you were sent flying against the wall, several feet behind you.

The sight of your body on the floor and the little noise you let out upon the collision shattered his heart. Sure, Rika just wanted to protect him from harm, but you would have never seriously hurt him and he was in shambles, trying to figure out what to do now that one of his biggest fears had become a reality. It took you a few seconds to realize what had just happened. You were just sitting up and blinking at Yuuta, who looked paler than usual, his body frozen to the spot as he watched you with wide eyes. The way you looked around made him aware of how dizzy you must feel since your head hit the wall - at least there was no blood on your hands when you checked the back of your head reluctantly.

“Yuuta?” You asked him as you teared up, knowing that it was just an accident. The young man snapped out of his trance-like state upon hearing your voice, softly asking him for comfort, but he couldn't give that to you, not if he was the one who hurt you in the first place.

His head snapped around, looking for a way out of here. Perhaps he could jump out of the window, or is it too high? The sound of his heartbeat picking up was deafening, the only thing he heard in that moment and it only fueled the anxiety further. But it was you utterly desperate voice calling out to him once again that snapped him out of his fight or flight reaction. Panicked eyes finally looked at your teary ones and his body reacted on its own. Without a further moment passing, he dropped to his knees beside you and cradled your body in his arms, holding you close. You knew he didn't hurt you and it was just a reaction from Rika, so you weren't angry, but your body still hurt as you wept into his embrace, your body trembling with each sob that wrecked through it. “I'm so sorry, my love,” kept falling off his lips like a whispered mantra as he gently rocked you back and forth in his arms in hopes that it's enough to call both of you down - even if it's just a little bit.

Hours later, neither of you had moved. You were still cradled in Yuuta's lap, arms wrapped securely around you and he still looked at you as if he had just broken the most valuable thing he ever owned. “I’m sorry that I made you angry.” You eventually broke the silence that just felt heavy to you, but he quickly shook his head. “Don't..." It's not your fault I lost control,” he began and kissed your temple, his lips resting against your delicate skin for a moment before you felt them move as he continued to speak. “I should have told you I'm home earlier, the flowers would have been a surprise regardless, I'm sorry I made you doubt my love for you,” he whispered against your temple, earnest regret in his voice. Yuuta knew he was gone too much lately and if the roles were reversed, he would have had doubts as well, so he couldn't blame you.

Unsure how to answer, you nod softly and your hands clutch onto him just a little tighter. “We will make things better,” you eventually mumble, reassuring the both of you that despite what has happened, things will be okay again and you can work past this accident.

☰ Inumaki:

You never felt scared or threatened by Inumaki, he was always more than sweet to you and despite his cursed speech, you never feared anything. He fell in love with you the day he found out you learned sign language for him and he hasn't left your side ever since. You two were inseparable to the point that his friends automatically spoke of both of you instead of just an individual and it was you who understood his few words better than anyone.

Laughter echoed through his small apartment when he pinned you to the bed with just one hand, the other traveling down to your sides to tickle you. Your laughter was one of his favorite noises, your smile his favorite sight and he wished he could tell you, scream out how much he loves you, but he would never dare say such things out loud, scared it manipulates you somehow and you're with him against his will. This was his worst nightmare, one that often haunted him at night and he woke up distressed while frantically searching for his phone. It's the same over and over again. “You're with me because it's what you want, right?” He texts and awaits your answer as he picks the skin on his fingers anxiously. “I’m with you because my heart chose you,” you tell him every time before his phone even unlocks, already knowing what plagues his handsome head.

Your sweet giggle brought him back to the little play fight you two just had and the way you were trying so hard to overpower him despite knowing you would never succeed. This thought never scared you, since you knew he would never use it against you or hold you down when you didn't want it. It was all just playful banter until he wanted to catch your wrist after you freed it but miscalculated, sending his hand right against your cheek with such strength that the slap echoed off the walls, followed by your whimper. You didn't need to push him off of your body, Inumaki got up right away and the tears that started to form in your eyes caused him to panic slowly. He frantically tried to sign “I'm sorry, it was an accident” over and over, but it felt like his hands were knotted up by the speed and you didn't look at him, turning away as the tears started rolling down your cheeks. You weren't mad at him, knowing it was an accident, but it still hurt you - the tears were only a reaction of your body to the stinging pain that traveled through your face.

But the way you refused to even look at him frustrated the young man and despite his efforts to get your attention, you simply rose from the corner of the bed and left the room. Of course he was chasing after you, tapping you, holding your wrist, whining… He tried so hard to get just a sliver of your attention when you clearly didn't want to give that to him right now and he felt wrongfully punished. “Stop crying and come here.” These words slipped past his lips with such desperation, he couldn't even stop himself before saying them out loud and his hands slapped over his mouth the second he realized what he'd done.

No matter how hard you tried to stop yourself, your body acted on its own accord as the tears dried and your feet walked over to him. Your face was one of utter shock and betrayal that he would do this to you, accident or not.

Inumaki pulled your body close and held you in a tight embrace, despite every fiber in his body screaming not to do it. It felt so wrong to him, but he needed you to forgive him for accidentally hurting you and for putting you through manipulation. When he pulled back, he was met with a face full of hurt and anger, which he deserved. “Please hit me back. We can be even,” he signed once, twice… but you looked away, pinching the bridge of your nose as you took a step back to put some space between the white haired man. You wanted to scream and explode at him, but you collected yourself and looked at him with a cold expression. “Can you just stop?! I don't care that you hit me,” you started but lost your cool quickly and it came out more snappy than intended. “We were play-fighting, it happens. But you can't just crowd me and demand I do things… and you surely can't fucking manipulate me!” Your voice rose in volume at the last part since this hurt you more than the accidental hit to your face.

Inumaki looked at you like a kicked puppy, his eyes big and his face sinking into the collar of his sweater further so he could hide. He was beyond ashamed for his actions and didn't want to speak, the desperation clouding his mind and forgetting for just a split second that his words have immediate consequences and despite his best effort to not speak, he can mess up.

With trembling hands, he started signing apologies, begging for your forgiveness over and over until his shoulders started trembling and in a last effort, he signed words that were unclear, but you knew what he meant. “Please hold me." You whispered as he signed it and sighed. Realizing that he's more affected by this than you are and that he really had no malicious intentions, you pulled your lover close, comforting him and yourself as his arms wrapped around you tightly, hands clutching to the fabric of your shirt. "Love,” he mumbled out, knowing this one word wouldn't make you do anything, but it was the first time you heard him say that he loves you out loud. “I love you too,” you whispered back, your cheek still aching from the way his hand slipped, but right now your heart needed healing from the betrayal of getting manipulated. Both, you and Toge were sure that this was a cut in your relationship, but the bond you share will act as a bandaid and you will be okay again, especially since he will be even more careful now.

Networks: @themovingcastlez @enchantedforest-network

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen fluff #toji x reader #yuuta x reader #inumaki x reader #toge x reader #Toji angst #toji fluff #yuuta fluff #yuuta angst #Inumaki angst #inumaki fluff #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk fluff

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killerpancakeburger · 19 days

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Another Headache

SUMMARY: You get another one of your chronic headaches, and the meds don't don't work. Soap's by your side though.

PAIRING: Soap x F!Reader (Soap calls Reader "pretty girl" once, that's the only mark of gender)

TAGS: Hurt/Comfort, fluff, suggestive at the end, Soft!Soap, Established relationship, Civilian!Reader, Reader works as Price's assistant.

WARNINGS: The suggestiveness at the end, mention of chronic pain.

WORDS COUNT: 1.8k

A/N: Lots of Soaps I like in there... pouting Soap, drawing Soap, needy Soap, Human calculator Soap (because of that one post that I KNOW I REBLOGGED BUT CANT FIND!! CURSE U TUMBLR!)

“1245.87… minus 56.43… divided by 98.62….” you mumble out loud to yourself, painstakingly inputting each digit into your calculator.

“12.06,” pipes up Soap without missing a beat, not looking up from his sketchbook where he's drawing.

You look up from the device and throw him a mildly annoyed glare, assuming he concocted a random number to confuse you. It's the first explanation that comes to your mind, the most logical one, even though it would be out of character for Johnny to make your work harder, even as a joke.

“Very funny.”

Then you press the result touch and your eyes widen as the machine provides the exact same answer.

“How in the hell…?”

You look at your boyfriend again, irritation gone out the window, replaced by amazement and a dash of admiration.

“Do you have a calculator for brain or something?”

“S'basic stuffs for sniping and demolition works.”

The explanation is way too abrupt for anyone who knows how much Johnny enjoys his job, rambling, and rambling about his job. You raise an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Can you develop?”

An amused smirk stretches his lips as he still persists in not looking at you.

“Bonnie, ye need tae focus oan yer work, or ye'll git us in trouble.”

You groan in protest. Being lectured about trouble by Soap “Troublemaker” Mactavish out of all people, you couldn’t make it up. That doesn't make him less right unfortunately.

Your supervisor, John Price, only allowed his Sergeant to hang out in your office during his free time on the express condition that it would not impact your tasks. You initially couldn’t imagine that blue-eyed menace sitting still for hours only for your sake; to do your own thing in your own side of the room in silence, without any physical contact, nor any other sign of acknowledgement? That was Ghost's idea of a good time, but Soap's idea of torture.

However, it turned out you underestimated his willpower, and his determination to take advantage of every moment that could be shared with you. The intimate knowledge that he was holding back this whole time, and that the minute the clock would strike the end of your workday, he would be all over you like usual, warmed your heart and sent pleasing tingles everywhere in your body.

Sympathetic to your plight, Johnny adds with indulgence and cheekiness in his tone:

“Ah ken how much ye like mah voice, but we'll make up fur lost time after.”

You roll your eyes at the suggestive taunt, still recognizing the comment for what it is - a consolation to compensate for his refusal to extend earlier. You bite your tongue to keep yourself from retorting about how distracting he's actually being even when drawing in silence, his biceps bulging with his posture, and the mix of concentration and serenity on his face strangely captivating.

The expression he wears when sketching is one you're particularly fond of. It reveals a different kind of intensity than the one he usually displays, when eager for battle or indignant in front of injustice. It is one not many are privy to, since he tends to favor the solitude of his bedroom to scribble, making this scene all the more special and giving it an intimate tone that's enough to make your heart race.

A loving smile on your face, you throw yourself into your work.

You can feel it coming from miles away.

That accursed headache. Pushing behind your forehead, between your eyebrows and sneaking behind your temples.

Its reasons could very well be everything or nothing; the mix of cold weather and your own tiredness, the acute light from the winter sun blinding your eyes in the absence of sunglasses, the long hours spent in front of a screen.

It is light yet harsh all at once. Muffled pain always felt worse than a sharp one. Yet you know from experience it is only going to hurt more from here on.

Gritting your teeth in a grimace of discomfort, you press your hand against your forehead. The coolness of your fingers provides a respite, albeit a short-term one.

Is there even any painkillers left in your bag? You can’t remember the state of your stock-

A familiar box is suddenly moved in your line of sight. Your usual brand of aspirin.

You look up to see Soap staring at you expectingly. You take the medecine with a grateful smile.

“You really are full of surprises today!”

He pouts as he hands you your water bottle.

“Wi’ how often ye git those bloody things, a'd have tae be a bloody eejit for nae knowing how tae deal with ‘em.”

He sounds like your chronic migraines offended him, personally, and it's both adorable and hilarious.

“That's still very sweet,” you insist after swallowing the treatment.

He brings a lock of hair behind your ear before tenderly kissing your forehead.

“That's me, “Sweet Soap” Mactavish.”

That drags a giggle out of you.

An hour later, as the meds miserably failed, you’re not laughing at all anymore.

At least your work is done for the day, granting you the luxury to suffer on the rec room's couch. Laying on your back, head on the armrest, you’re pressing the heels of your hands into your closed eyelids while groaning in agony. Any bright light or screen increases the pain, so keeping your eyes closed is the only protection conceivable.

Seated right by you, your legs laying over his lap, Soap squeezes your tigh in support, itching to bring you relief but unsure how.

“What can I do?”

You remove your hands from your face to peek at him. If the ache behind your temples wasn’t occupying all space in your thoughts, you would have fussed over his chagrined expression that wasn’t without reminding you of a worried puppy. He was torn between concern for you and frustration of not being able to do anything. Johnny absolutely hated not being capable of remedying a problem. It made you want to cover his face in kisses, not only to placate his frustration, but also because you were filled with cute aggression.

“Well, I have this theory that if someone hit me really hard in the head with a baseball bat, it would help…”

“How the bloody ‘ell would it help!?”

“The pain from the blow would replace the headache.”

“How does replacing pain with pain helps…?”

“I prefer the acute pain of a strike than the dull one of a headache. It's way more bearable.”

“M not hitting you with a baseball bat,” he exclaimed, clearly convinced that the pain had made you go insane.

“I'll just ask Simon instead.”

At this point, you’re insisting more to rile him up rather than out of seriousness.

“Nae yer not,” he retorts vehemently, voice bordering on a growl.

You're about to laugh when he suddenly gets up, still taking care to not send your legs flying off the sofa. Worried that you managed to actually piss him off, you half pick yourself up, raising on your forearms, but he exits the room before you can catch his expression, ordering you to not go anywhere. Not like you were planning to anyway.

You flop back on the couch, closing your eyes and massaging your temples. A moment later, deliciously cold fingers rest on your forehead. You hum in appreciation.

“Better?”

“I love you,” you declare boldly.

The husky laughter Soap emits in response is almost as soothing as his touch.

You suddenly open your eyes as a realization dawns on you.

“Johnny, why are your hands fucking freezing?”

“Put ‘em under cold water,” he retorts casually, like it was evident.

You sigh, closing your eyelids, endeared by his behavior but also a bit fed up.

“You're crazy.”

He chuckles again.

“Crazy in love maybe.”

You don't need to look at him to know the smug smirk he's displaying with that comment.

“Wipe that goofy smile off your face, Mactavish.”

“Make me.”

You playfully slap whatever part of his body is nearby, then sigh once more.

“It's only a temporary solution, though. Unless you intend to spend all night turning your hands into ice cubes.”

“Ah could try-”

“Johnny, no.”

“Johnny, yes.”

“Don't be silly.”

“Will have tae be, unless ye've got a better option.”

“Laying in the dark with a wet cloth could help… or at least it's supposed to.”

This is how you ended up in Soap's bedroom with the lights off, both of you laying on his bed, you nuzzled on his torso with his arm around your waist, a washcloth soaked with freezing water on your forehead.

“Is it working?” he asks, barely a few minutes after settling down.

You cannot contain a smile at the impatience in his voice.

“More or less. But what sucks the most with this method is.. “

“Aye?”

“I'm so freaking bored. Cannot read, cannot use my phone, cannot fall asleep either. And with no distraction, I cannot focus on anything but the pain.”

“Ah could distract ye... If ye wanted.” he immediately suggests.

“What are you thinking of, pretty boy? Surely nothing… inappropriate.’

Despite your playful words, your fingers start idly running down his chest, and the shiver that travels his skin in response doesn't leave you indifferent. You hear him suck in a breath, and he grasps your wandering hand only to press it flat against his pectoral, even raising his breast to deepen the contact. Meanwhile the hand holding you tightens its grip on your flesh before traveling lower to grab your ass.

“Now that yer mentioning it, ah read online that it could help wi’ headaches…”

“That what could help, Johnny?”

“An orgasm, bonnie,” he rasps.

You let out an amused sigh at the bold statement, trying to hide how much effect the rasp of his voice has on you.

“Hear me oot-” he pleads, apparently worried that you’re taking him for a perverted loser obsessed with his own pleasure over your comfort. “A'm not bullshitting ye-”

“I know, baby,” you appease him. “I know about the orgasm being a thing.”

“Ye know?... wait, ye knew this whole time? Why didn’t ye say anythin’?”

“Let's just say I'm skeptical of that method.”

“Did ye already try it?”

“Nope. But I'll believe it when I see it.”

“Then let me make ye a believer, pretty girl. Please? Pretty please? Will make ye feel so, so good, promise. Lemme take away yer pain, hen.”

He punctuates his begging by burning kisses, on your temple, your cheek, your jaw, your neck. His fingers sneak under your shirt, tickling your waist. The neediness in his voice and his touch makes you whine his name helplessly.

“Johnny…”

He echoes your whimper with a moan of your name.

“Alright, alright,” you capitulate. “For the sake of experimentation.”

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munsonshire · 8 months

Text

Eddie Munson as your boyfriend

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader (gender Neutral)

Disclaimer: Eventhough this are some headcanons I might warn you that this is long af

Warning: Use this freely on your fics but pls give credit

Masterlist

He gives the most obvious side eyes ever, You sometimes have to call him out because they are too obvious and he could get in trouble

He will get out of bed quietly when he can't sleep, take his guitar and get out of the bedroom then start playing music loudly

He makes a lot of sarcastic jokes

Will ask you for help when planning his next campaign, and will let you co-lead said campaign as you have also helped

He has this weird obsession with your ass where he will try to grab and squeeze whenever he can (consensual of course)

Contrary to popular belief I don't think that Eddie doesn't care about his hair, I think he does and that those curls aren't as wild as they seem, he makes them look that way, If he didn't then his hair would look even more wild.

When he gets bored he likes to draw on your arms with a marker (erasable).

He always ends up with random scratches, he never knows how but it happens, Sometimes you have to take care of those scratches.

He likes to cuddle with you, and NEEDS to cuddle with you, The poor boy is touch-starved but at the same time, when you touch him too much he can get overstimulated, so he'll tell you when it's enough

All the dice and little figures he has are because he finds them in the floor or somewhere, repaints, and heeps them, he has gifted you so many dice that you now have them all in a jar.

You gifted him a Polaroid camera, and you still don't know if it was a good or bad idea, he will pull that camera whenever he can and take the most horrible pictures of you, like sleeping or similar.

Has struggled with eating disorders in the past, you try to keep an eye on him and make sure that he's eating well but at the same time try not to force him so it doesn't feel like an obligation.

- Okay, so, generally we tend to think of Eddie as this metal guy and so badass, but tbh I see him as the guy that would crouch down and tie your shoelaces if you ask him to or if he sees that they are untied because he doesn't want you to get hurt. Or, if he's in more of a goofy mood he will crouch down and tie your shoelaces together so that you fall, and he obviously has a laughing fit before even thinking of helping you but then he asks you if you're okay and kisses you.

- He's the kind that will surprise you with gifts, those are usually things that you've said you wanted but didn't get because they were too expensive. He's very attentive of your especial interests and wants to get you something with meaning

He gives you his jacket whenever it's cold

He likes to stay in and watch movies and cuddle

Tries his best to comfort you

Likes to play around in the rain with you, you both usually get soaking wet in the rain and end up covered in mud.

When it rains or he just took a shower and his hair is all wet he likes to shake his hair and soak you, he thinks its extremely fun

he holds your face with both hands

likes to kiss the top of your head

After spending so much time together he starts picking up your gestures, habits, and tics even without noticing. But if you pick up one of his habits/tics, like sticking out your tongue when concentrated, he notices it and teases you about it

Likes to get way too close to your face/ear to say something

Very curious about you and your past, he wants to know a lot about you to understand you better

Constantly tells you everything he likes about you

Moves a lot while talking

Lots of LOTR and metal references that he will explain if you don't get them, he never wants you to feel stupid when you two are talking.

Makes you a dnd character in case you ever want to join, which you probably will, considering the amount of time that he's made you sit and watch one of his campaigns and that sometimes you too get too invested in the storylines. This character will appear in the dnd campaigns, even if you don't play, at first the hellfire club members didn't know who this mysterious character was but after meeting you it was so damn obvious

will take you to all the Corroded Coffin rehearsals and little concerts, he likes to dedicate one or two songs to you

likes to mark his territory so if you're talking to someone in the hallway his mf will appear out of nowhere and hug you from behind, leaving a little kiss on your neck, and then leave again, During that interaction he will glare at whoever you're talking to.

if he sits behind you in class, he will spend it kicking your chair to get your attention

he loves making you laugh at his silly jokes

Sneaks through your window whenever he wants, he's hungry? you better have something to eat. Can't sleep? You're gonna be his personal teddy bear. Needs to talk? Now you have a career in psychology, congratulations. Better listen to him when he gets there or he's gonna be throwing rocks at your window all night/day

explains all of dnd to you

Finds hair ties on the floor and gives them to you even if you told him thousands of times that that is not hygienic at all but he ignores you - you still thank him anyway

Likes it when you do his hair

He loves to braid your hair, doesn't really know how but at least he tries

Hugs you from behind, sometimes giving you heart attacks

Sloopy neck kisses, he loves it because it makes you giggle

Likes to hum and sing to you when you can't sleep

He likes to take your hand and trace all the lines in it, then he gives it a little squeeze

Always holds your thigh while driving

Makes you laugh when you're mad at him, that makes you even more mad

He makes a confused face whenever you talk to him about something that he doesn't know about or something he doesn't understand

Has no filter, because he trusts you

If you say you like one of his rings he'd probably give it to you and laugh when he sees that it doesn't fit your fingers. Then he will find some kind of lace to put the ring through it so that you can wear it as a necklace.

Likes to stargaze with you

likes to run his fingers along your skin, especially your back because it makes you shiver

He keeps flirting with you even if you've been dating for the longest time

Loves to pick little fights with you, never serious, just for fun

Would get a tattoo of something that reminds him of you

Asks you to tutor him when he doesn't understand a class, usually math or something like that. Tutoring lessons usually end up with one of you on top of the other while making out

Loves to pull pranks on you and scare you. But he usually gets slapped or something, because idk you but I get aggressive when someone scares me

Will try to teach you how to play guitar

He has the messiest bedhead ever

Hand-holding while sleeping

Puts his hand in your back pocket when you go out together

Comforting each other after nightmares

holds your hand and swings your arms obnoxiously together, he loves to see you laugh and stumble around

He loves your smile and makes you smile at every chance he gets

Venting to each other, asking first obviously.

He puts his hand on your thigh when he drives

He insists on you sitting on his lap, even if there are other chairs to sit

If you ask for one of his shirts and he's in the mood to annoy you he will tell you to take the one he's wearing

- "Eddie, can I have one of your shirts?"

- "Yeah, come and get it"

- "Where is it?"

- "It's on me sweetheart"

- *you look at him confused* "What do you mean?"

- "I mean, take it off me"

- "Eddie..."

- "What? You wanted my shirt"

- "Okay okay, fine, ill take it"

If you have trust issues he's always reassuring you that he loves you. He has abandonment issues so better remind and reassure him that you still love him

Going out dressed up in Halloween. Scaring kids till they pee their pants

He made you a matching guitar pick necklace like the one he has

Hugs you when you're sad

Likes to play fight but if you fight back, he will lose it

Has an irrational fear of doctors/dentists and will throw a tantrum if you take him to one

Bites as a form of showing affection

When it's raining heavily he loves to take you to this one spot in the woods that he calls "his spot" so you both can scream about whatever it is that has been bothering you, Once you feel better you will dance under the rain

He blinks like 100 times before a staring contest and he gets so competitive, he NEEDS to win

If his eyeliner runs and he smears it he will come up with the excuse that it's his new metal way to wear it, just because he's too lazy to take it off and put it on again

Smirks and shrugs when you ask him how he's able to stay up all night and still have energy the rest of the day, he just teases you about not being able to do it yourself

After the attack, whenever you ask to see his scars to know if they are healing he will lift his shirt and hold it between his teeth, mumbling something about how the bruising is fading. And the MF will smirk because he knows that you're having a hard time trying to focus on the scars and not stare at his shirtless torso

Reads his favorite books aloud for you to fall asleep. He LOVES when you fall asleep with him near you because it shows how comfortable and safe you feel around him.

Puts your hair behind your ears and brushes your hair out of your face whenever you're talking with him because he wants to see your face

Likes to ask you for outfit advice, but he just shows up with two almost identical band T-shirts

He loves it when you mess with his hands, like, if you're anxious and take his hand and start playing with his fingers, he loves that shit, and also if you take his rings and put them in your fingers

#stranger things #stranger things headcanons #eddie munson #stranger things pov #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson x reader headcanons #eddie munson hc #eddie munson x reader hc #eddie x reader headcanons #eddie munson x reader fluff

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fleet-of-fiction · 4 months

Text

Jake Kiszka x Narrator & Sam Kiszka x OC.

Chapter Two

Summary: The Jones Family are new additions to the sleepy community of Beech Run. A tight knit scattering of rural houses, where everyone knows everyone. Deeply religious and overbearingly strict, the daughters of the family are kept under lock & key by a fanatical Father and submissive Mother. They watch from bedroom windows as their neighbours, The Kiszkas, draw intense curiosity and desire to be free. Madness of youth , hope & obsession collide to bring the danger of forbidden love to poetic ends. (Era A/U)

A/N: This chapter is particularly seeped in religious doubt. There's sexual activity in church. Spanking and cock warming and talk of it being a punishment from God. If you are particularly religious or have any trauma regarding this I urge you not to read. These views are the views of a character I have created and do not directly display the views of the writer.

Warnings:Religious trauma. Parental trauma. Intense emotions including desire, obsession, grief and yearning.Loss of virginity.Explicit sexual activity.Heavy praise kink.Severe edging.Oral sex m/f.Fingering.Masturbation.Dirty filth talk.

Summer 1984

I would have taken a thousand punishments in the wake of the memory of that hazy afternoon. Surrounded by tall grass and the sound of crickets on the breeze. Jake, and his exploration of my body, like a dream that I'd yet to wake from. Still frames in my mind, of his mouth and his eyes and his voice. I could still smell his flesh long after I parted from him. Consumed by it even as I stood at the foot of the stairs, beyond the hour of our curfew. My fate already sealed.

Jolene was unrepentant. The flush of her cheeks and the ravaging of her hair telling a story that she would never utter in words. I knew better than to ask. But when she'd appeared, breathless and without remorse, I knew that Sam Kiszka had been gifted with her heart, and perhaps more.

I don't think either of us came away from that afternoon exactly as we'd arrived. If innocence was the price paid, I felt a little richer for what I'd received in return. Perhaps a bird with clipped wings losing it's feathers, only to find that beneath there was an even greater bird just waiting to fly. That was how I imagined myself. On the verge of taking flight.

"Explain to me, boy."

Dad was standing in the hall, formidable and with a rage simmering away beneath a steady gaze. I'd only ever seen him this vexed once before, during a time when he'd been forced to reconsider the limits of his power over our brother. I thought, perhaps, that Ben would take his moment to exert his mounting power. But he wasn't the alpha, not yet.

"Car trouble, Dad." He replied nonchalantly, throwing his jacket on the bannister. "We're only a half hour late."

He would lie for us, but only to better serve his own needs. If he wanted to take Harriet Dinsmore out again and use the car, he'd have to pretend that nothing nefarious had happened out there while he was meant to be our escort.

"Don't you lie to me, boy!"

The way he spat the words out made me flinch. Instinctively reaching for Jolene's hand. The two of us ravaged and ruined by those boys, softly acknowledging that flower petals had been plucked in those fields. And we would take whatever punishment would accompany it.

"I had a phone call from Mrs. Dinsmore. Thanking me for my son getting Harriet home at a reasonable hour." He said, meeting his son at eye level. "And then she also happened to mention that young Lewis had been glad to see my girls down at the creek today."

I sensed the fear in Ben's eyes. The boy he once was never too far away. Bolstered by his freedom and the reluctance to lose it, he backed down immediately. And my lungs deflated.

"I left them in town, I swear." He pleaded, "I didn't know they went to the creek. I swear, Dad!"

It was pitiful. The way his cheek was turned as our Father struck it. That painful retrospect of what he could or should have said playing over and over in his mind as he looked directly at us. As if somehow Jolene and I had caused this. As if he didn't understand quite fully how free will worked just yet, and he'd had a choice. He could have told the truth.

"I'll deal with you later."

There was a look of reproach as Ben stormed up the stairs, clutching his cheek in a shame that was yet to properly manifest itself. He'd treat us like ghosts for the rest of the summer, but we truly didn't mind.

I was sad to see him go, still. Without the focus on Ben it meant that it was my turn to feel my Father's wrath. A wrath that he truly believed was descended from God himself. Sometimes I wondered if the truly believed that, or if it was a diocese of lies he told himself in order to sleep at night as the tyrant he truly was.

"I expected better from you." He said, standing with his finger extended at me. "I expect my daughters to uphold the values of this house and the church we embody. Not go against my word at the first opportunity."

He cast his eye towards Jolene, who would stand firm. She'd finally experienced something worth holding on to. Something she would protect, even in the face of God's wrath; which seemed to always wear our Fathers face.

"Dad, we're sorry." I apologised, although the validity of it felt like a sin within itself. "We had every intention to go into town with Ben. It was awful hot though, and we just wanted to cool off by the water. We didn't know that there would be others down there. Promise."

There were flecks of spit in the corners of his mouth as he leaned in. A tremble of his lip as he tried to keep his tongue in check. I could see my Mother lingering in the kitchen door way, like a shadow that bore no use without the shade she dwelled in. Both of them prisoners to their own demeanours. I hoped that there'd been a time, once, where they'd known how it felt to lay down and feel what I had felt that afternoon.

"Proverbs 19:9 - A false witness shall be punished, and a liar shall be caught." He quoted, as he often did, when he needed witness to his tyranny. "And I'll not have liars for children."

I didn't feel much like a child. And he would see me punished like the young woman I was becoming. Yanking me away from my sister, digging venom into my flesh with fingertips that intended to bruise me.

"You'll go to the church. And you'll pray on it until the sun comes up. And if I don't find you on your knees, you'll stay there until supper tomorrow."

Jolene knew better than to protest. Her hands flew to her mouth as he handled me out of the door and out towards the car. Her silent pleas for him to let me go left on the tip of her tongue. I wouldn't struggle. And she knew that I would go to my punishment as willingly as she would go to hers. And somehow, we knew, that we'd meet in the aftermath.

I was grateful for the sweet coolness of the church floor. The ebb and flow of a breeze that in the shade was a welcome respite from the summer heat. My knees were bent, pressed into the red velvet tuffet as I rested my elbows on the solid wooden edge of the kneeler bench. Genuflecting to the lord with my fingers entwined and a solemn knot in my stomach.

That was where he found me. Alone in my retribution. The gentle click of the church door alerting me to his presence, although I didn't turn and look. I allowed the echo of his footsteps to guide him towards me, my eyes burning into the effigy of Jesus Christ on the cross. My knuckles white, palms growing steadily more sweaty.

In the candle light it appeared as if Jesus was smiling at me. And I wondered if it were a cruel trick to lull me into thinking that I was absolved. The devil painted such a beautiful picture in my mind, and he arrived just when I thought I could be saved.

"I followed you." He said, his voice echoing against the rafters. "I didn't think he was going to leave you here, though."

He would know me in my anguish. I dared to turn my head a little, greeting him with a soft apology for the state in which he'd found me in.

"You should leave, Jake." I whispered, afraid that if my voice carried any higher God himself would hear.

He was wearing the same shorts, sunburnt shoulders now covered by a light blue shirt. Half of his hair tied back, the rest tumbling down against his neck. As I swallowed, I realised my mouth was unflinchingly dry. The sight of him an unholy memory of what he had done to me mere hours ago.

"I'm not leaving this church until you do." He assured me, slumping down onto the dusty floor, his back against the kneeler. He propped his forearms up on bent knees and sighed heavily. He didn't ask me to stop praying. He just...sat there.

"You'll be here until dawn." I warned him.

"So be it." He replied, without hesitation. "If I'm the cause of your punishment, I'll be the remedy too."

I didn't quite know what he meant. I didn't dare ask him to explain. The darkness was drawing ever closer and the temperature was dropping. The candles flickered in the encroaching draft, and my knees began to give way. The warmth of the afternoon felt like a fever dream. And he could feel the way my body began to tremble against the enormity of it all.

"Here." He offered, rising to press himself against my back, "Lean against me."

He took a little of my weight, but still didn't make me stop my prayers. He was like scaffolding around me, holding me up as I tried to right the perceived wrong I had done. His body still felt warm and tender against mine, his breath exhaling on the line of my jaw. His chest against me, arms tucked around my waist. I felt completely detached from the divine. As if my soul wanted nothing more than to dwell with Jake.

"We didn't do anything wrong today, Bonnie. You know that, right?"

I wasn't a moral compass on what was right and what was wrong. All I knew was that I'd done something which merited the endurance of midnight prayer. I couldn't speak to it, the softness within which I recalled the heat of the afternoon. It had me tongue tied as I tried to speak to God and beg for his forgiveness for such wretched wickedness. The wickedness of pleasure.

But God didn't speak to me that night. The only voice I could hear was Jakes.

"Do you want to be punished?" He asked, "For what we did?"

His question caught me off balance. My breath caught a little and a tiny, almost indiscernible gasp escaped my lips. This involuntary move made him hold me a little closer, a little tighter. Pulling my body up and more earnestly against him.

"God see's everything." I replied, trying to breathe against his palms that were flat to my sternum. "I'll be punished regardless."

He breathed an amused little sigh into my ear.

"If God see's everything, he's an immoral voyeur who knows that the flesh he created cries out for touch." He explained, taking the liberty of wrapping his fist around the hem of my dress. "Don't you think what we did down by the creek was a gift from God?"

When I thought about it like that, like it was God's hand guiding me into sin, I didn't want to believe in him anymore. And not because the God I'd been raised to fear might have been a foolish idea created by men who desired control over others, but because there seemed to be no God that could ever satisfy me.

"What are you saying?" I asked, keeping still as he pulled my dress up, revealing my underwear to the altar.

"Puppets. All of us. Moving around by the command of one puppeteer." He continued, his voice low and commanding. "All seems a little... inconceivable. Doesn't it?"

I was powerless to stop it. The thrum of blood beating in my core. The way it seemed that every muscle and sinew in my body seemed weak against his strength.

"All these moving parts, tethered by invisible strings to a hand nobody can see." He preached now, tucking the back of my dress into my bra strap, viciously pulling down my panties until I was fully exposed where I knelt. "You could kneel at this altar for hours in penance and feel nothing. Or you could let me help you feel something."

"You blaspheme." I whispered, closing my eyes as he slipped a righteous palm down the curve of my ass.

"You blaspheme!" He growled, "Against yourself, against your body...against me."

Perhaps I did. Fear was the definition of every corner I'd ever turned. Fear of God. Fear of my Father. Fear of wanting something I knew neither of those things would ever allow. It all seemed trivial though, somehow, when Jake ran such careful hands over me. When I could feel his body responding to mine. Heavenly, almost.

"Proceed, then." I allowed, fingertips digging into the bench. "If you're here to make me feel something. Go ahead."

If Jake was here, perhaps he was sent by God to instruct my punishment? Or maybe it was all just a bunch of nonsense. Maybe he was here because he wanted to be? Maybe all of this was just fuelled by nothing more than two people who wanted this?

I could feel the trembling in his body as he prepared himself. My underwear languished at my knees, my dress pulled up so that my entire lower body was on display. I remained in my kneeling position as he pulled himself back, taking a deep breath.

"Do you want to be punished, Bonnie?" He asked again.

"There is no God, is there?" I almost sobbed. "Only us?"

"Have faith in me." He replied so softly, his hand slowly riding down my thigh. "I'll never worship anything but you, Bonnie. I swear it."

I'd never forget that night in the church. The way my fear in God died and in it's place was planted a new found obsession for pleasures I'd been repeatedly denied.

Jake was nothing if not gentle with me. The soft rise and fall of his hand as it skimmed the inside of my legs, parting them a little where I knelt. His arm was pressed against my collar bone, keeping me steady when I might weaken. His subtle whispers were for me, not even God was privy to them as he spoke directly into the shell of my ear.

And then I knew his purpose. The slow roll of my body as he leaned it forward. The sharp recoil of his previously gentle palm as it reeled back. And the bitter sting of it as it connected with my flesh. The sound echoing around the church walls. And my silent scream ringing out into the far reaches of my mind, unable to flow out of my mouth as I bit down heavily on my lower lip.

Jakes hand lingered on my ass. Squeezing it as he centred himself. The very act he'd just performed seemed to draw such high levels of arousal that his breath seemed to cease for a moment. His mouth resting breathlessly against my shoulder as he pulled back once more. This time the connection was even more unyielding. And he moaned, digging fingertips into my tissue where I knew it would bruise.

Each time he spanked me I could feel myself drawing closer to something divine. Not God, not a deity I could believe in. The tears of it dripped down my inner thigh and rolled down my leg into the fabric at my knees. This was something else. Something only Jake could give me. My senses were entirely heightened. The sound of it against church rafters. The sting of it on my reddened skin. The pain of each squeeze as he revelled in it, and the way he seemed to go deeper into an arousal he could only speak of in feral groans with each snap.

"Your silence wont make a difference." He said, noticing the droplets between my legs for the first time. "Your body speaks where your voice will not."

I was still learning. "Once more." I urged.

I needed it. Whatever this feeling was. I craved it. The way his reactions made me wetter and wetter. The way his ministrations made it unbearable for him. The way I knew it was because of me that he damn near sank his teeth into the flesh at the base of my neck. Fighting for his life as he breathed harder. Kneading my ass cheek, rolling his palm over the heat.

"Tell me how much you need it." He begged, "Tell me how much you need my palm across your sweet little ass."

I began to think, perhaps, that he needed it more than I.

"Is it wrong how badly I need it?" I dared to ask, my voice quiet and small.

"No." He breathed. "You don't have to be pure if you don't want to be."

He did it again. Harder. With more vicious intent. The sensation of it sending ripples through my flesh and down into the folds of my beating pussy. That time I couldn't hold myself together. Whimpering so wretchedly that the candle flames danced in my breath.

"Again." I beseeched.

He didn't preach to me again that night. He pummelled his hand over my ass repeatedly until I gushed a river. My cries finally finding their voice. Ascending like a choir into the bell tower. With each switch of his wrist he grew more insatiable. And it seemed that he couldn't bear it any longer once he was done with me. Almost as if all it would take would be one more strike to make him ravage me.

He was exhausted by the time he hastily pulled up my panties. Ruffling down my dress, making it appear as if he'd never touched me at all. Nuzzling against my neck, his nose pressed against my jaw. Trying to swallow and breathe, like he'd lost all control. And despite the drop in the temperature, his brow was covered in a sheen of sweat.

I fell helplessly into his arms. My legs buckled under the weight of what we'd done. And he held me tenderly. The hand which had executed my desired punishment now brushing back my hair and lovingly stroking across my temple. I didn't reach orgasm, neither did he. But there was this strange comforting feeling I knew we both shared that something had inexplicably changed there in the church that night.

Once we had both calmed, we found ourselves tangled in a sweet embrace as we sat on the cool church floor. He coiled a light touch beneath my chin, cupping it in the curve of his index finger as he tilted my head up to meet his gaze. And he kissed me with all the uncontrollable arousal he'd supressed. His tongue explored mine. His gentle lips soft like pillows, opening and closing at slow intervals to allow his tongue to retract. Pulling back just enough to look into my eyes as daylight began to turn the black night into a pale blue hue.

"Why don't you ever stand up to him, your Dad?" He asked, playing absently with my fingers as we held each other. "You're eighteen. Surely that has to count for something?"

I knew he would ask eventually, I thought perhaps it would have come a little later.

"It's not like it is at your house." I sighed, "Your parents actually care about what you want. I don't think my Dad ever stopped to wonder if any of us wanted any of this. It just... is."

He stroked the back of my hand and curled both of his around it, closing around it like an oyster shell. "It doesn't have to be."

I wanted to join him in his hopefulness. But with the sun coming up I knew that I would have preferred to face the consequences of him being there alone. Another punishment. Another atonement for something I'd done that felt good.

"You'd better go before he gets here to pick me up." I responded, with my heart sinking even as the words spilled out. "I don't want you to have to deal with him."

But Jake was staunch. Sometimes I forgot that he was older than me.

"I'd take him on in a heartbeat if it meant that I got to keep you." He said reluctantly, sweeping his lips across my cheek. "Find what you love...and let it kill you."

The day I met Jake was the day that everything started to make sense. The night I spent with Jake in that church was the night I knew why. The pieces of my life finally started to fit. And there was no joy to be found in anything except for him. And I knew that I was irrevocably in love with him. Doomed, some might say.

Jolene was sitting in the window as I arrived home. Her forlorn morning stare reaching out to me through the glass as I climbed out of the car, the journey home wordless and without any conclusion. My Father had simply walked into the church, ascertained that I hadn't fallen asleep at my post, and opened the door for me to walk outside.

The weary walk to my room was peppered with my Mother taking my cardigan at the door and sheepishly asking me if I was feeling alright. I felt a sense of betrayal from her that usually simmered below the surface, but that particular morning it raged so aggressively I could barely look at her.

"May I go to sleep now?" I asked, ascending the stairs as my Dad silently nodded his approval.

No sooner had I opened the door, Jolene flew to it. Dark circles painted beneath her eyes, as if she hadn't drawn a wink of sleep either. Her nails bitten down to the quick and almost manic as she gripped my shoulders.

"Did Jake find you?" She demanded, frantic as I tried to sit at my desk. "I saw him, his car sped out of the driveway after Dad took you out. He looked pretty pissed."

There was a strange sense that my head was under water. It felt like my ears were blocked and my vision blurred. I hadn't slept, I'd been on high alert. And every time I thought it was safe to, I forgot that it hurt to sit down.

"Yes, yes... he found me." I sighed, pulling off my dress and slipping into my night gown. "We can talk about it later, now I really need to sleep."

She continued to fret as I climbed into bed. I hadn't realised that my body had been tensed, my muscles suddenly relaxing as I pulled my blanket around me. In here nothing else mattered and I closed my eyes. Feeling Jolene's unease as she lingered on the edge of her bed on the opposite side of the room.

"Let me sleep, Jo." I said, eyes still clamped shut.

She hesitated a little before responding.

"I had sex with him, Bonnie." She whispered, forcing me to open my eyes.

I wasn't really sure what I'd expected her to say. That perhaps they'd exchanged a sweet kiss. That she'd let him trail his fingers up her shirt, but nothing quite so absolute as the full act.

"What do you mean?" I asked, reluctantly sitting up as a beam of morning light began to creep in through the crack in the curtains.

She rolled her eyes and began wringing her hands between the folds of her night gown nervously.

"That's why we were late to get back to meet Ben." She explained, her eyes trained on the closed bedroom door. "All of this is my fault. I should have been the one doing midnight prayer. I'm the reason we were late. I'm the one who committed the sin."

She'd endured her own type of punishment. I could see it in the way she couldn't settle. Her knees in a frenzy as they shook up and down, her fingers in her mouth as she continued to chew on her nails. I opened up my blanket and invited her to lay with me. Immediately she drew the same calm as I had from being shrouded in pillows and blankets. Our bodies side by side as I hunkered down with her. Something we hadn't done since childhood.

"Was it what you wanted?" I asked, delicately pushing her hair away from her tired face. "With Sam? Did you do it because you wanted to?"

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Of course I wanted to. He didn't make me do anything. Maybe I got caught up in the moment, but he was gentle with me from start to finish."

He was just like Jake. She weaved a tale so soft and seeped in romanticism that I was swept away with it. The way he'd offered her his hand to hold. The way he'd wanted to show her where all the fish liked to gather at an old bridge further down the creek, and they'd sat with their feet dangling off the edge talking about nothing of consequence. It sounded like a perfect summer afternoon. And she'd let him kiss her on that bridge for the first time, her and I locked in our unfolding stories at the same time.

"One minute we were kissing on that bridge and the next he scooped me up and carried me to the river bank. I don't think either of us had any idea what we were going to do. It just...happened."

She didn't have an inkling of regret. Even though she was sleep deprived, there was a sparkle there in her eyes as she talked about him. About the way he'd soothed her with caresses, assuring him it was what she wanted when he would have stopped. Calling her his little grasshopper because she'd been so excitable. He'd been slow and careful with her, repeatedly asking if she was ok throughout the whole thing. Taking care not to hurt her. Promising to shoulder the brunt of any punishment laid out.

"He's going to ask Dad for permission to date me." She said wistfully, "I told him that it didn't matter whether he asked for permission or not, that we'd never be allowed to date. But he was adamant. He said he wasn't going to let it come between us."

Our secrets were ours to keep. I knew that the minute Sam Kiszka crossed that street and onto our porch that they would unravel. I wanted to keep our secrets safe. It didn't matter how many punishments we endured. Jake seemed to understand this. His was a far more mature and level headed approach. Jake would have followed me anywhere, in pursuit. He would have snatched me up and taken me anywhere I pleased. But he knew better than to try to defy a man who was neither sound nor reasonable.

"I know he think's that he's doing the right thing, but he can't ask Dad to date you. It'll only make things worse." I worried, careful not to bring my own intentions into it.

Jolene's eyes moved down. Gentle disappointment laced in her heavy breath. When she looked up it was with forlorn dismay. A film of tears threatening to spill over her lashes.

"He's in my bones now, Bonnie." She sniffed. " I want my chance with him in every life time, not just this one. Don't you understand that?"

Such a romantic little thing, she was. I carried the bruises of the sexual deviances of what I'd done, but she'd known something I'd yet to know. A secret that was all hers, that I was no part of. I wondered why Jake hadn't tried to have sex with me, why her and Sam had come to it so soon? She was so eager to have everything so suddenly, part of me wondered if she hadn't instigated it herself.

It didn't really matter. Her mind was so staunchly set that I couldn't argue with it.

"Ok." I conceded. "Well, did it hurt?"

The swell of her smile was enough to keep me awake. The fissures of a giggle threatening to give way.

"A little." She replied, "I didn't know what to do at first. He laid me down and touched me, told me it was so that I'd be ready. And then he kissed me all the way down until his mouth was... you know...and then he kissed me there a little while. I don't know what came over me, I just knew that I'd let him have his way after that."

A flush of pink rushed to her cheeks. She seemed more awake than she had been a moment ago.

"And then... it was like a hot knife cutting through butter. Smooth and slow. And I could feel it sting, but only for a moment. And he asked me if I was alright, he never stopped looking into my eyes for any hint of pain. I just kept nodding, trying to keep it together. Not knowing if I should make a sound or stay silent. If I should move and let him do all of it. I just laid there for the first few minutes, taking it all in. Like even as it was happening I knew I'd recall it like a dream."

Theirs was a sweet summer love. A tender fairytale I could see a shadow lingering behind. But I didn't dare tell her. I hoped that it was stay where it was and leave them be. She deserved a summer of love.

It made me wonder what was going on in Jakes mind. The opportunity to descend into sexual madness had presented itself twice now, and twice he hadn't tried to take my virginity. I questioned whether it was a long game he was playing, or if he simply did not desire to have it.

"Did you do it with Jake?" She asked, almost as if she'd heard the reverb of my thoughts.

I couldn't lie to her. "Not all the way. With him, it's like he's playing this long game. Almost like he can't bear to take it too far too soon."

I knew she would think that I judged her. But what one brother would do wasn't always going to be what the other did. She was well suited to Sam, and yet their shared penchant for chaos was the face of that very shadow I could see behind them.

"Do you love him?" She asked, yawning and rubbing her eyes as the sun crept in.

That was something which seemed to have a more simple response. I didn't know his favourite colour or the way he liked his eggs cooked. I didn't know what songs he liked to listen to in the car on long journeys, or if he ever sang in the shower. These were things I ached to know, and resolved to know in due course. The little things. It was the biggest thing which drew me to my conclusion.

"He took a risk coming to the church last night." I replied, feeling my eyelids grow ever heavy. "For that alone, I will love him."

It felt as if I'd only closed my eyes for a moment. I was drifting from a dream that I wouldn't remember when I opened them. I could hear familiar voices rising, my name somewhere on the breeze. Perhaps I was still dreaming? Somewhere in the distance I could hear my Father's voice. His venomous sermon waking me, and I sat bolt upright in a panic that I hadn't known would come.

I had no sense of the time. The sun was beating down from the centre of the sky, my curtains rippling in the warm summer breeze as my window sat at half mast. And outside the peace of the afternoon was broken by the sound of my sister's screams.

I grabbed my robe off the hook on the back of the door and flew downstairs. The front door was wide open, so rarely was it ever left like that; I knew immediately that something was wrong.

My Mother was standing on the porch, pacing a little as she watched from her safely appointed spot in the background. My Dad was standing at the foot of the driveway, holding Jolene back as he pointed an ominous finger at Sam. He was flanked by his older brothers, who were trying to convince him to pull back. Jolene was crying. Tears streaming down her face, begging to be let go of. Trying to rip at Dad's shirt, like an animal caught in a snare trying to fight for it's life.

The moment I appeared Jake's eyes lost their focus. He let go of his brother. Bile began to rise in my throat and I shook my head, terrified that he was about to move towards me. The very motion of my head seemed to break his heart. He would have made his claim, would've fought for me. But now was not the time.

"Please, Mr. Jones. Just hear me out!" Sam pleaded, trying to reach for Jolene. "I love her, Sir. I wont hurt her, I promise!"

It was as if he couldn't feel the push and pull of his daughter who wriggled on the end of a hook that only he had the power to reel in. He barely shook against the onslaught of her efforts to break free. His eyes burning into the boy who had come to ask for his permission.

"You set foot over here again, boy, and I'll call the police. You hear me?!" He threatened, "This is my land. My daughter."

Josh was still fervently attached to Sam's shoulder.

"With all due respect, Sir, my brother is a good person. He doesn't mean any harm to your daughter." He reasoned, holding a palm up towards my Dad to signal a cease fire. "We only live across the street. Only seems natural they'd take a liking to each other."

He didn't know it, but he was kicking the hornets nest. I wanted to intervene, feeling useless as I stood there with a voice that couldn't speak and feet that wouldn't move. I felt no better than my Mother as I watched the screen door over at the Kiszka house fly open. Their sister appeared, trying to explain what was going on in violent hand gestures, as their Mother stormed across the front yard and over to where her boys were trying to avoid a scuffle.

"Marie, come and take your daughter." Dad said calmly, shoving Jolene back towards the house as my Mom scurried down the porch steps to retrieve her.

I stayed close by. I didn't know what else to do.

"Boys, get back in the house!" She demanded, pulling them apart like rubber bands. "Mr. Jones, I know you're a well respected pastor in this town but I don't like your attitude towards my family. We welcomed you in to the street, we were met with indifference. So I'd kindly ask that you don't raise your voice or your hand to my son again!"

The way she stood there, fierce and unflappable. I'd only seen her a handful of times, taking groceries into the house or tending to her flower beds around the edge of the porch. Sometimes she would sit with Mr. Kiszka on the porch of an evening. The two of them sharing a drink and watching the world go by. That sort of slow living I thought only existed in movies.

"You keep those feral mutts away from my girls." Dad argued, that terrible finger of devout judgement mere inches away from her face.

But she remained unperturbed. Josh and Jake lingered at her back, Jake not knowing whether to stay behind his Mother or come to my side. I continued to subtly shake my head every time I caught his eye.

Mrs. Kiszka, with her arms folded and her eyes wide with rage, kept her lip tucked firmly under her teeth as she weighed and measured my Father. I noticed Ben lingering by the garage door, an oily rag in his hand and the car bonnet propped up as he stared at the chaos unfolding. An onlooker, no better than I. And I hated myself for it.

"If my feral mutts go anywhere near your girls, it's because they were invited." She bit back, keeping her voice low and steady. "It only seems hospitable that we extend the invitation right back."

Such poise and grace deserved accolades. She took a few tempered steps back, raising a cheerful grin as she looked back at the house and regarded only me and my sister.

"Girls, you are more than welcome over at our house any time." She said sweetly, "You know, it's downright cruel the way you keep them cooped up like that during summer."

She gathered up her boys and began the triumphant walk back across the street. I knew the rage that simmered beneath my Father's still frame was unfathomable. He remained where he stood for a few more moments, deftly trying to fight against raising his voice or going over there to continue the fight.

I left him there. Taking Jolene from my Mother, ushering her back inside to calm herself. Utterly broken by the events that had unfolded. I looked back only once, to see Jake staring at me from his driveway.

Dad went into his office and slammed the door behind him, the sound shaking the walls of the house. I sat Jolene down at the kitchen table and made some tea, her face all pink and blotchy from the tears. I could hear the sound of lawn mowers humming outside in the distance, and Ben hammering away at something in the garage.

Like it had never happened.

But it had. And there was no going back from it. Shaken and ruined by it, I sat holding her hand. Trying to ignore our Mother as she appeared, cleaning away the dishes at the sink as if she was looking for something to occupy herself.

"You girls, you know you shouldn't get him angry like that." She dithered, almost as if she couldn't see the state in which Jolene remained in. "It's so much easier to just... not push his buttons."

"And I suppose by not pushing his buttons you mean never speak a word, stay in our rooms and be on our best behaviour at church?" I replied, urging Jolene to drink her tea.

She pushed it aside. "I don't care what anyone says, I won't be kept apart from him."

Mom dropped a glass in the sink. "Oh, Jolene... you know your Father just wants the best for you. To marry a good Christian boy from the church."

"I don't want no one but Sam!!!" She yelled, our Mother flinching back as if she'd thrown hands. "You'll never understand! Just because that's what you did, it doesn't mean that's what I have to do! Look at you, like a frightened little puppy! Scared of what he'll say if you step out of line! I'm not afraid anymore. And if you want me to stop seeing Sam, you'll have to kill me."

I didn't know it at the time, but Jolene had set in motion a course of events that would never be able to wash it's hands clean of the blood that would be spilled. I would often think back to that day in the kitchen and hear the sound of that glass shattering in the sink, our Mother's hand bleeding out under the run of the faucet. And I would wonder what might have been if she'd just kept it a secret a little while longer.

That night, I couldn't sleep. My pattern ruined from the previous night of wakefulness and the day I'd spent catching up. Unable to settle in my bones thereafter, after being woken so abruptly. Jolene had spent hours beneath her blanket, refusing to be comforted. Sobbing into her pillow until her breath had gone shallow and I could discern the waves and depth of sleep that had taken over.

I kept the window half open. The heat still bearing down, even when the sun had set. The trails of the night breeze gliding over my leg as I hitched it over my blanket and tried to distract myself with a book.

The way that Jake had looked at me was etched in every single thought I had. Barely able to eat supper at the excrutiatingly silent dinner table, unable to focus on anything but the way he'd wanted to step to me. That same tangible desire that was being screamed out of Jolene's lungs existed within mine.

Only mine was a little quieter. A little more serene. But no less bold in it's approach. I wanted him so bad I couldn't read any of the words on the page. I had to actively stop myself from going to the window to see if he was waiting there with a sign. I knew that if I did I wouldn't be able to stop myself from climbing out and going to him.

I didn't need to wonder, though. The night was so thick with atmosphere, the sound of the crickets had shrouded his movements. It wasn't until his hands curled around the window frame, pulling it open as wide as it would go, that I looked up from my book and felt my heart begin to rage within my chest.

He fell into the room, knocking over my pencil pot as he climbed over my desk. Admonishing himself as Jolene stirred a little, but did not wake. He silently placed the pencils back where they belonged and stealthily moved over to my bed.

It felt as if I hadn't seen him for days. About to whisper my fears as he placed a warm hand to my mouth and hushed me before I could utter one word.

"Ssssh now." He whispered, "You don't want to get us caught, do you?"

I shook my head with his hand still firmly planted there. His body was firm against mine, his eyes scanning my face in the low, golden glow of my bed side lamp.

"You sure do look pretty when you're all tucked up in bed like that." He said quietly, smirking as he released me. "Get dressed. Meet me out on the porch roof."

I glanced at my alarm clock. It wasn't yet midnight. I knew that if I could slip back in before sunrise, the risk would be lessened. I thought about it as I watched Jake climb back out, waiting until he was completely through the frame before yanking off my night gown and carelessly picking up the first thing I could grab out of my closet. Conscious that one creak of the floor boards could wake Jolene.

Would I even care, even if I did get caught sneaking back in? Would the consequence be worth it? I clasped my bra on, pulling the straps over my shoulders as I shimmied into a pair of white linen shorts and a blouse. I shoved my feet into a pair of sandals and knew that the regret would haunt me for the rest of my life if I didn't climb out of that window right then and there.

The sight of Jake in the summer moon, silver light illuminating his side profile as he sat on the edge of the porch roof waiting me, it was all I needed to know that I might never climb back inside the window. He was looking up at the stars, completely enchanted by the expanse of little white dots scattered across the noir. And when he noticed me, his face transformed from one of spacial wonder to one that knew it's home when it saw it.

"Do you trust me?" He asked solemnly, extending his hand for me to take as I climbed out.

He was wearing a muted purple t-shirt, ripped at the hem and paired with a pair of washed out old levi's. His hair hadn't been brushed, I could make out the knots even in the light of the moon. The wild elements of him only serving to make my heart beat faster. There wasn't anything about Jake that made me think that I was about to enjoy a peaceful evening. Everything about him had my danger receptors firing in all cylinders. And yet, I did trust him.

"Why, shouldn't I trust you?" I asked, letting him guide me down the trellis that ran down the side of the porch, his hands reaching for my waist as he helped me onto the ground.

"That very much depends." He fired back, "If your Dad intends me to bring you back without knowing how much I've fallen in love with you, then no."

His words stilled me. There under the moon, he caught me with a gentle gaze that guided me into a kiss that could have been witnessed by every eye in the whole world and I wouldn't have cared. His palm rested on my cheek, his hips angled towards mine. Heaven tasted like his tongue which gently probed into my mouth and brushed over mine, sending a rush of arousal to my beating pussy.

"What happened today shouldn't have happened." He said, keeping his forehead rested against mine. "I can't pretend that I understand why the fuck your Dad is such a narcissistic bastard. But I'll take you the fuck away from here. Just say the word. I've been working at my Dad's music store, saved up enough to get my own car. A little left over, too. We can go anywhere you want. I'll look after you, Bonnie."

I almost died inside at the sentiment. Waves of heat and flutters of excitement churned away in my stomach as he awaited my response. There wasn't a single condition to the way that I loved him. I didn't know how or why or even when I knew that it was love, the exact moment I could have hand picked from the little ones we'd shared. But I knew, beyond all conviction, that I would have followed him into the fire and brimstone of hell if that was where he was destined to go.

Jake made the dead parts of me breathe again. The parts of me that I'd long since disregarded and thought could never be resurrected. And I wanted so badly to honour that. To take his hand and let him lead me as far away from Beech Run as was humanly possible. But I couldn't leave Jolene. Not with the threat of the days events still hanging over her head. Without me, there was no guiding light for her.

"I promise." I whispered against his open mouth. "One day I will ask you to take me away from here. But not yet..."

For now, I let him take me across the street and up the gravel of his driveway. Every light in his house was out, save for the flicker of something glowing behind the half raised garage door.

"I meant what I said." He reminded me, stopping right before he would open it fully. "I'm gonna show you how much I've fallen in love with you."

"Maybe I'll show you." I countered, leaving him a little bewildered as he pushed up the garage door.

"You deserve to have beautiful memories. I really hope this is one of them."

The garage was only a small space. Littered with music paraphernalia. Multiple piles of vinyl in cardboard sleeves. A few stereo systems of varying degrees of use were dotted about. There was a drum kit right at the back and a set of guitars leaning on stands sitting on a moth eaten old carpet. On the walls there were posters, some of them lovingly placed in glass frames and others haphazardly tacked to the wall and ripped at the edges. I didn't recognise any of the faces in the images, but they looked like musicians or from movies. In the centre of the room was a couch with a pull out bed. He'd taken the liberty of making it up, surrounded with pillows and several blankets and comforters like he'd tried to build a soft little nest.

And all around the room were the dainty flickers of tea light flames. Hundreds of them, lovingly placed and ignited to fill the room with a soft glow that gave me a lump in my throat as I looked at what he had done for me. If he had wanted me to remember this, it would always stand proudly at the front of everything I did that summer.

"You did all this, for me?"

He went over to one of the stereo's and at the very top was a record player. He set the pin into the grooves, and let it begin to spin. I didn't recognise the song, but it set the mood perfectly.

"This is the least of what I'd do for you." He said, pulling me in to slow dance as I rested my head against his shoulder. "And when you finally decide to run away with me, then you'll know how far I'm willing to go."

We made out on the pull out bed for a little while. His smile as I kissed his teeth made him giggle, sharing laughter as we kissed amongst the piles of vinyl and instruments. I could have stayed like that forever, just taking in the memory of his lips and the way it felt to have his arm tucked beneath my head as he pulled me in. Sometimes his hair would fall out from behind his ear and sweep across my cheek, making me shudder at the sensation of it. And he would gallantly tuck it back, taking a moment to catch my expressions in the candle light.

"Tell me what you know about sex." He said, playing with the cord on the waist band of my shorts. "Do you ever think about it?"

I suddenly felt so very small in his arms. "Of course I think about it."

The steady beat of his heart became so erratic I could hear it in his breath. He was doing anything to distract himself, twirling the little string of fabric between his fingers and only looking at me when I hadn't said anything for a while. Like he'd been waiting for me to speak and didn't want to break the spell.

"I know enough about sex to know that I think about it." I offered, "Why do you ask?"

He couldn't look me in the eye, then. Preferring to shoot his gaze at the stereo, the clear plastic hood of the vinyl section propped up like a car bonnet as the pin skipped over to the next song.

"What I did to you in the church... and in the field the other day... I don't want you to think that it's all I want." He sounded sincere, bringing his eyes back to me after he'd finished speaking.

I could see the conflict. His desire to protect me and fuck me at odds with one another. I pulled him into another superfluous kiss. It had been enough for him to do all this for me. To lay the bed out with all the soft comforters and pillows and light all the tiny little tea candles, pick out his favourite music and making sure he said all the right words.

"But I also want you to know that I would do it all again. Over and over. Because your body does something to me that is beyond all fucking reasoning." He trailed his hand down from my throat into the valley of my breasts. "It started the first time I saw you in the window. Took every ounce of strength I had not to get too hard. And then when I saw you coming towards me down by the creek, I felt dizzy for the first time over a girl. I wanted to give you something, something that would make you feel good. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to know what you felt like. I couldn't get the thought out of my head for hours, even in the church I wanted to pull your panties all the way down. I wanted to just pull my zipper down and let it happen. But I knew that if I did, I'd regret it. You deserve to be courted sweetly. Not spanked to the edge of tolerance under God's roof..."

"I liked it." I cut him off, his fingertips pushing the edge of my blouse away from the curve of my breast. "I'm not made of porcelain, Jake. I wont break. I've been treated like I shouldn't be exposed to sex my whole life. Like it was a dirty sinful thing that would land me a one way ticket to hell. I don't care where I end up after I die. I just want to live..."

"Then we'll live." He agreed, wordlessly tugging at my clothes until he had taken them off and thrown them down by the bed.

In my underwear, I'd been conditioned to feel shame. But there was nothing but power there as Jake knelt at the foot of the bed and stared at me as if he'd unearthed buried treasure. His tongue sat the edge of his teeth, his eyes moving down from the way my hair tumbled over my breasts right down to the curve of my ankles.

"You ever seen a hard cock before?" He asked, shedding his t-shirt and unbuckling his belt. "I don't want to scare you."

I couldn't help but giggle. "I'm not afraid."

Perhaps there was a part of me that was curiously on edge. It wasn't fear, but as he began to take apart his zipper I could feel the apprehension rise. He didn't take his eyes off me. Carefully watching for my reaction as he pushed his levi's down. Beneath the fabric of his white boxer shorts I could make out the line of his cock. He gripped it tightly, giving it a little shake as he released some of the tension.

"It's not fully hard yet." He explained, "Do you want to touch it until it is?"

I swallowed thickly, the lump in my throat somehow bigger as he kicked off his jeans and scrambled up the bed to lay back down at my side.

"Show me how you like to be touched." I said, letting him guide my hand over the bulge, almost like the fabric between his flesh and mine was a slow introduction to how he liked it best.

"Just wrap your hand around it." He instructed, watching as I coiled my fingers around the shaft. "Yeah, just like that. And then squeeze it a little. And move up and down slowly."

The pulse quickened immediately. A rush of blood taking him to a solidness I hadn't expected. And it made me wet. I could feel the crotch between my thighs grow moist, and he noticed it too. Tracing the line of fabric that had darkened in colour, breathing heavily as he ghosted a feather light touch over my mound.

"I'm trying to take it slowly, but I need to have your body free of these..." He pulled on the waist of my panties, moaning softly as I continued to move my hand precisely the way he'd told me to.

"We're always trying." I mused, rolling onto my back so that he could take my underwear off. "Trying to be good. To work hard. To do what's right. Why don't people ever try to do what they want, what they need?"

"Oh, they do." He replied, peppering my breasts with kisses as he unclasped my bra and threw it down with the rest of my clothes, his body above me as I looked up at him. "They just don't talk about it."

The way he slid down my body, taking my panties with him, I couldn't bear it. " Oh...I guess that makes sense."

His head snapped up from covering my stomach in soft little kisses. His hair already knotted up and fucked.

"For instance, right now all I want to do is make love to you. But that's our little secret. Nobody else gets to ruin this for us. This is ours. Between nobody but me and you. Ok?"

I barely noticed that he'd rendered me naked. I laid there without a stitch on, his body lingering above me as I watched him move back. He was so beautiful. I couldn't take my eyes away from how his stomach moved as he breathed. The way his messed up hair sat at his shoulders. Even his thighs were making me feel like I'd never really been alive up until this moment. I'd just existed through out a series of events that had brought me here.

"You have no idea how possessed I am by you." He told me, sliding his hand down behind the waist band of his boxers as his eyes closed a little. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you bewitched me."

There was humour in his inflection, enough that it drew a breathy little giggle as he pulled out his cock. He let his boxers fall to the ground, observing me as I laid on the little nest he'd built for us.

"It's got a hold of me, too." I confessed, "Whatever this is. I'm a part of it."

It seemed to be enough that we were both entangled within this spell. He stood there gently stroking himself as I parted my legs. Letting him enjoy the view, taking in the sight as I watched him right back. He seemed to know the pattern of his own touch, letting his cock stand as he rounded a palm over his balls and left a shimmery trail at his bellybutton as his tip leaked.

"I don't want to wait anymore, Jake."

There were such things as ghosts. Not the people who had once lived and had died, but the versions of ourselves that had been and were never more. I felt like a ghost as he coveted me. My thighs welcoming his body between them and the rush of arousal that flooded every nerve ending was like lightening striking the earth.

I didn't quieten myself for Jake. For him, I did not enter a room as if I were not invited. For him I opened up, offering him my heart and my virginity; the two things perhaps the greatest gifts I had to offer him. And there was no confusion over what it meant to him. He laid down on top of me, holding his weight just enough so that I could feel his intention and taste his breath. The softness of his approach in direct contrast to the unrelenting hardness resting at the unopened door.

"Can you feel that?" He asked quietly, his lips brushing against mine. "It's all for you, Bonnie. All of it."

I knew he was mine the moment he shifted. His weight rolling down, hips dancing forward. And I was a vessel on calm seas. He didn't take his eyes from mine as he slowly entered. The tip just sitting in the tightness, stretching me out and making me wince a little. But it wasn't unbearable. I placed my hands around him, keeping him tethered. Ensuring no part of him would retreat if my expressions betrayed me.

"Ok?" He checked, moving a subdued kiss across my cheek bone, sweeping his lips across to where his whisper entered my ear. "Does it hurt?"

"Just keep going." I urged, certain that the burn and the ache would subside, "Don't stop..."

He let out the most delicious sound as he slowly continued to enter. Moaning softly, his breath warm against my cheek until he was entirely within me. And I could feel his groin rub against my thighs, soft pubic hair against my mound. And there he stayed, leaning up on forearms so that he could get a better look at me.

"I'm not going to fuck you, not yet." He explained, his palms coming to rest against my temples. "I just want to commit this feeling to memory."

I'd never felt more full. Almost like he was nearing the inside of my stomach, the pain and the sting of was worth all the misery of wondering what it would feel like. Because it simply wasn't how I could have ever imagined it.

"I love you, Jake." Was all I could fathom to say, staring up at his intense brown eyes that couldn't seem to look away from me.

He mouthed the words back to me, resting his forehead against mine, breathing a little harder as I clenched my pussy around him. The action was somewhat involuntary, as the inevitable burn began to lay waste to a feeling that was entirely new. With every flex he moaned again, and the melody of it drew a throb from me that almost demanded movement.

"So... tight..." He fought against it, keeping his cock nestled inside me, making a home for it as he buried his lips against my jaw and whispered sweet words that made me fall in love with him over and over again.

He would have stayed like that forever. And I would have kept him there for eternity. But the need and the animalistic urge to thrust was one I hadn't been prepared for. The way my body felt the rigid pull back was a delight. And the slow push back inside was delicious and my senses were spilling over with every thrust, every touch. Every breath and every kiss. Every word spoken and every soft moan. My mouth filled with his tongue, my fingers digging into the soft flesh at his waist. His cock slammed into me, fucked me and made love to me so softly at first and then when I couldn't stop myself from crying out he let himself take it a little harder, a little rougher until we were moving in unison.

"You feel so good, Bonnie." He told me, breathless between kisses, "I claim you..."

"I claim you, Jake..." I panted it, my voice coming out like a desperate whine that didn't quite sound like anything I'd ever spoken like before.

He seemed to like it. Bringing his mouth down to my hard nipples and clamping his lips around them. He sucked so gently, keeping his rhythm so perfectly I could feel my body start to vibrate. Overstimulated and ascending to the stars that he had promised me.

And yet, I had a feeling that he was nowhere near to being done with me.

To be Continued...

@caprisunsister @thewritingbeforesunrise @takenbythemadness @katuschka @its-interesting-van-kleep @lvnterninthenight @writingcold @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @edgingthedarkness @velveteencatch @lyndz2names @nina-23-45 @itsafullmoon y @char289 @dancingcarbon @gvfpal @violetstarcatcher @wetkleenex-gvf @jazzyfigz @gvfmarge @ignite-my-fire

#greta van fleet #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #fanfic #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf #fanfiction #gvf fanfiction #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka x reader #sam kiszka gvf #sam kiskza #sam kiszka fanfic

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afewproblems · 1 year

Note

agree with steve not forgiving eddie! how do you think it would go when they see each other for the first time after everything? like.. I feel like steve would just tell him it’s over for good but :O

Part one, part two, part three

The record label releases a statement, something to the effect of privacy concerns, not to misconstrue or blow things out of proportion because photos can be manipulated. There is no firm denial, but no confirmation either. It's all wishy washy bullshit.

It's like Steve's heart breaks all over again.

He doesn't speak to the press, despite redoubling their efforts to talk to him, Steve unplugs their home phone permanently, wraps it up in the cord and puts it in the back of the bedroom closet.

Eddie does try calling Steve's cell, but he never leaves a message, as though he knows they would go unheard.

After the initial visit from Wayne he ends up calling his de facto father in-law once a week. It's nice, it's the one good thing that has come out of this whole situation.

And Wayne doesn't seem to mind being their go between, especially since he's a lot less subtle than he thinks, asking pointed questions about how Steve is feeling, how he's handling the LOA.

It's a relief to say the least, talking to Eddie without talking to him, it allows him to breath.

It's quiet for about two weeks, the coverage of the photo and the story has dwindled significantly and the media seem to have moved on from talking about them, finally.

Steve's LOA is almost over, he's confirmed with Liz that he can return to the classroom next week as planned which leaves him in the highest spirits he's been in all month.

But of course it can't last.

The first time Steve sees Eddie is on Conan.

It's a Thursday night, Steve channel surfs absently. He's left the living room dim, the only lights from the television and the Chicago cityscape glowing through the living room window.

He lands on NBC for just a moment and freezes when he hears Gareths familiar voice speaking.

Gareth, Eddie, Jeff, and Grant are all seated on the set couch with Andy Richter. Conan asks a few questions about their tour, their recent resurgence in popularity from the movie, their favorite Marvel characters from the franchise that skyrocketed them back into the public scene.

Its a standard interview, Conan keeps it light, easy-going, not a single mention of the infamous photo.

Logically Steve knows this is most likely a mandate from the band's manager but it doesn't feel that way, it feels like a slap to the face if he's being honest with himself.

Did he imagine it? Had he blown this whole thing out of proportion? Maybe he was overreacting.

His phone buzzes on the coffee table he's left his feet on, Robin's face and 'Thing One', brightens up the room.

Steve moves his feet to sit up properly and he mutes the television with the remote before answering.

"Are you seeing this shit?" she growls on the line.

Steve laughs, "Hello to you too," he leans into the worn cushions of the couch and tries not to think of the second empty divot in the middle next to him, "yeah I'm seeing it".

"And they're not going to talk about it at all? Like what about journalistic integrity and all that shit?"

Steve rolls his eyes and snorts into the receiver, "I don't think Late Night counts as journalism Bobs--"

"Still," she huffs out.

Robin is quiet for a second before she says softly, "you okay?"

"No," he whispers, "but I think I'm the closest I'll be for awhile," he draws a heavy hand through his hair and ignores the cameras which have now panned to Eddie who looks pensive on screen.

He's not speaking, in fact Eddie hasn't said a word the entire interview. He looks tired, his normally pale face has turned sallow and drawn with deep purple bags under his eyes that even the show makeup has not covered.

Steve looks away from the screen and ignores the dull ache in his chest.

"I'm glad that it's not all over the news anymore," he admits after a moment, "but, its almost like it never happened".

Robin hums sympathetically on the line, "Twenty-four hour news cycle, they've probably found some new scandle to follow," she's quiet for another second, "he looks like shit".

Steve barks out a surprised laugh that trails off sharply, he chews his lip for a second, "is it crazy that I'm worried about him? He looks likes he's not sleeping--"

"Steve..."

"I know, I know, I'm am angry with him and I don't think that will go away any time soon, but look at him".

The camera angle switches to a wide shot of the whole group and Eddie stands out so starkly amongst the other band members that are put together, smiling, engaged in the conversation.

Verses the silent, pale ghost that Steve doesn't even recognize.

"Do not let that kicked puppy thing let him off the hook Steve," Robin says, the words are sharp but the tone is still gentle, "he hurt you just because you had a fight--"

"Maybe it wasn't that simple!"

"Steve..."

"I miss my husband Robin, I can't, I fucking hate that he did this but I miss him so much," he says, his voice wobbles slightly as Conan holds up a large version of Corroded Coffin's latest album on the desk before gesturing to the stage area to reveal their setup to start playing.

"I feel like there's something wrong with me," Steve says, giving voice to the smallest parts of himself that have been festering inside of him the last couple of days.

The longer they're apart, the longer he refuses to speak to Eddie to more these thoughts have been creeping in. Maybe he should just let it go, maybe he can eventually forgive him and they can move forward again.

It's countered again and again by the image, the kiss.

Imagining the two of them together, Eddie with this stranger. Did he call them Honeybee, the way he did Steve? Did he hold them after and whisper other sweet nothings, promises into their ears?

It's enough to turn his stomach.

"I don't know what to do, I can't exist like this much longer, the tour is going to be over soon and then what?"

"I don't know Steve, you're the only one that can make that decision, but," he can hear the small reassuring smile on her face as she speaks, "we'll be here for you no matter what you decide, I promise".

"Thank you".

"Anytime Dingus".

***

The second time Steve sees Eddie is a month after the Conan interview.

Steve's back at work and the kids seem happy to see him, though they are sad that the 'easy' sub days are done. He's glad for the routine once more, especially with the end of the tour looming on the horizon.

Steve has spent the last week fretting over what to do, he's talked to Robin and Dustin about it, weighing the pros and cons. He's talked to Wayne about contingency plans for the apartment, if he has space for one of them to go there.

Steve is fairly certain Eddie would go stay with Wayne willingly if he asked him to, but both of their names are on the mortgage and he'd rather be prepared for anything.

It's Gareth that calls him, his name lights up the darkened bedroom while the picture of Gareth and Chrissy and Steve and Eddie at their place for Thanksgiving two years ago flashes on the tiny screen.

It's late, almost two in the morning, but Steve is awake. He hesitates before snatching the device with shaking hands and swipes a hesitant thumb across the screen to answer the call.

"Hey Gar," Steve says quietly.

He sits up, letting the covers pool around his waist and stifles a small yawn with his hand.

"Oh, Steve, I...fuck is it good to hear your voice man," Gareth breathes out, he sounds surprised, nervous, "I wasn't expecting you to actually answer this," he trails off and clears his throat.

"I wasn't asleep," Steve shrugs.

There's a pause on the line, Steve can hear Gareth take a deep breath and the hushed words of someone in the background.

"I, God, Steve, I'm so sorry, I hate that we weren't there for you," he continues, and Steve can't help but agree with that sentiment.

It's certainly felt like the only one of his friends from Eddie's circle in his corner was Wayne, he hasn't heard from any of the band members or Chrissy since this happened and he can't say it hasn't stung.

"And I know you must hate us for this--"

"Gareth, I dont--" Steve tries with a small tired voice but Gareth barrels onward, the words getting faster as he speaks.

"I won't make any excuses, we should have done better by you and the fucking label knew exactly what they were doing," he breathes out again and this time its infinitely more pained, "and I hate to do this Steve, I know you already told him that you needed more time--"

"You're coming back?"

"Yeah, we fly in tomorrow actually," Gareth says softly, "and we just, well we wanted you to know".

Steve feels his heartrate quicken, he swallows harshly against the sudden lump in his throat.

Tomorrow? Tomorrow, with no warning, no notice, and suddenly Eddie would be back. He'd be coming home...

"I want to see him," Steve hears himself say before he can clamp his mouth shut, "I...can you tell him that, I need to talk to him?"

"Oh, uh, yeah, uh," Gareth stammers out, then the sound is muffled for a moment as though a hand has been placed over the receiver, lowered voices murmur in the background and Steve feels himself drag in a sudden breath, as though he had forgotten to breath at some point.

"Okay, Steve?"

"Yeah," he whispers into the darkness of his bedroom.

"He'll be there".

***

The clock ticks slowly by, interrupting the quiet of the apartment and every time Steve looks at the clock face it's still only been forty minutes since Gareth texted to tell him they've landed at O'Hare.

It's like the clock is mocking him, the minute hand holding court over the kitchen where Steve has planted himself with a full cup of, now undrinkable, tepid tea.

He initially debated offering to pick them up from the airport, but the thought of their first meeting being so public, the thought of camera flashes and more people asking questions was enough to turn his stomach.

Even now Steve isn't sure how he'll react when Eddie walks through that door, his hands shake slightly and a flicker of anxiety runs through his chest because what if he's not alone? If he brought Gareth with him, or Jeff as some kind of backup or shield from Steve's anger.

Steve scoffs to himself at the thought, they'd seen a lot of Steve over the years, he's sure this wouldn't phase them. Maybe they'd even stand aside and let Eddie take his verbal lumps.

Steve sighs and grabs the mug from the counter before walking it over to the microwave. He sets it for thirty seconds and waits with his fingers drumming against the door handle. He opens the microwave before it beeps and presses the cancel button to reset the time before he walks back to the counter and stool he had been perched on.

Steve steals another glance at the clock and curses, make that forty-five minutes since Gareths message.

The sudden sound of a key sliding into a lock snatches Steve's attention towards the entryway.

Eddie steps through, wheeling his suitcase in behind him, he lets his backpack fall onto the doormat and softly closes the front door behind him. Eddie looks even more tired than he had during the interview, thinner as well and Steve feels that familiar pang in his chest at the sight.

Neither says anything for a moment. They stare at each other unmoving, and then...

"Hi Honeybee".

That's all it takes for Steve to jump off the stool and stride through the kitchen to the foyer, he stops just in front of Eddie, takes in his shining eyes and the sharp downturn of his normally smiley mouth and Steve's last resolve snaps into pieces.

He launches himself into Eddies arms and tucks his face into his neck, it's the first time he's felt remotely normal in the last two months.

"I'm so fucking angry with you," Steve hisses but the words sound more like a sob than anything else.

"I know, I'm angry with me too," Eddie whispers into his ear, he holds Steve even tighter as he speaks.

"I just, you're the person I talk to, about everything and," Steve bites his lip and curls his fingers into the fabric of Eddie's t-shirt, "I couldn't do that, I didn't have you, you’re my person Eddie and you took that from me, and so much shit happened here, you dont even--".

He's fully crying now, so much that it's harder to speak, but Eddie is holding him so tightly he can't catch his breath.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Eddie says, his voice wobbles and wanes as the words tangle in Steves hair, "if I could take it back I would, I wish I could take it back Stevie believe me".

"It didn't mean anything, it didn't," he continues, raising one hand to card through Steve's hair as he does, "I don't know how to fix this," he admits so quietly its nearly lost in Steve's sniffles and hitching breaths.

"I don't want to lose you," Steve whispers into Eddies shoulder, the material of his shirt is soaked with tears and snot but he raises his face anyway to meet Eddie's own red rimmed eyes.

"Then you won't," Eddie whispers again, he sniffs and moves his hand to cup Steve's cheek, "we'll fight, we'll fight for it and I won't give up, I won't run this time".

"I promise".

There is so much more to talk about now, so much to apologize for, but for now, they hold each other in the foyer, letting the golden Chicago light morph into the bronze orange of sunset wash over them from the kitchen window.

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l0sercat · 1 year

Text

Jack the ripper NSFW alphabet

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He will get you whatever you want. He'll prepare you tea and draw a bath if you want.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves his thighs, they're just so big and thick. He loves how much you love them and obsess over them.

He loves your eyes, the way they shine in the light. They say eyes are the gateway to the soul (or however the saying goes)

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He likes to cum in you and have you milk him dry but if you don't want it he'll come in your mouth.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He has had many fantasies of him holding a knife to your throat and making you surrender to him, and then him fucking you and doing what he wishes to your body.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He only has a little experience. But he knows what he is doing. Look where he grew up...

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

He is a simple man/gentleman, so missionary. He likes to see all of you while he is fucking you.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He is more on the serious side but there may be some goofy/light hearted moments.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He is very well kept, so you don't have to worry about any of his pubic hair in your mouth or scratching your face when you go down on him.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He will be very romantic amd makes sure your comfortable. He wants you to love every second and enjoy the experience. He never wants to be like those men who only takes pleasure for himself.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He doesn't jack off unless absolutely necessary. He much rather have you to take care of it .

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

He likes knife and blood play. He honestly likes anything that has you at his mercy and that gets your heart racing. He wants to see that pretty color consume your body.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Bedroom. It's very convenient for him and a safe place.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Seeing you vulnerable and weak with that gorgeous color cover that body. But he also likes it when your in a little tight dress making him apple pie. Makes him want to bend you over that counter and take you right there.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He won't do anything involving another person. You are his and his alone no one else will see you so exposed and vulnerable.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He loves giving, your moans are music to his ears.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He is slow and sensual, but catch him on an off day, prepare to not walk for the next day.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He doesn't like them because he can't just do one quick round. He likes to have a full session. Al the quickies you guys have lead to hours of fucking.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He will experiment with you and he is down for certain risks.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He can last for hours. He has a ton of stamina.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't own toys and he prefers not to use them. But if you ask nicely he will use them on you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He will tease a small amount but not a lot, he is a gentleman after all.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He makes noise; panting, whining, groaning, moaning, you name it. He wants to make it clear that you make him feel good.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

I feel like he would like CNC and voyeurism. He definitely would have you cock warm him while he's reading.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

He is a decent length at around 6 inches and 2 inches thick.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

It's a good drive, he's not horny all the time and can control his urges. If your horny he's horny.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He falls asleep after a couple minutes and after your taken care of.

#x reader #gender neutral #gender not specified #gender neutral reader #jack the ripper record of ragnarok #ror jack the ripper #jack the ripper x reader #jack the ripper ror #jack the ripper #record of ragnarok jack the ripper #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok headcanons #record of ragnarok x reader

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chokedraven · 7 months

Text

The shadow of the past

Pt. 2 - Step into the light | Previous part

I had so much pain drawing this one illustration at the end. Anyway, this is already the second part, and the main characters still don't know each other's names, huh. I think I'll need to make a masterlist soon. Also I'm not a native speaker and don't have a beta reader, sorry for any mistakes here!

• • •

He wasn't late.

The working day went the same way as before, so there is no need to describe anything here. Soon Nervill was already standing at the threshold of his apartment, looking for the keys.

All day long his thoughts didn't leave this shadow creature - doubts and hope were connected in his head, and he didn't know what to grab onto, there were too many contradictions, and he could find out everything only when he returned (which is what he, in fact, was trying to do now, just need to find the damn keys)

His thoughts repeatedly boiled down to one, most realistic outcome - he is actually out of his mind and is hallucinating. But why exactly like this? Some strange shadow that appeared out of nowhere? On the other hand, wouldn’t Nervill know what the human mind is good for, so just a shadow against the background of his perverted mind couldn't look so surprising.

Meanwhile, the key finally appeared in his hand, jingling, and soon in the lock slot. With every turn, his impatience grew more and more to find out if he was imagining all this, if he had gone crazy from loneliness - or gone so crazy that he got himself an eternal roommate, and more and more he reproached himself for leaving without even trying to touch the shadow, just to somehow check...

The door swung open.

He hurriedly walked inside, looking around, as if expecting at any moment that the shadow would come out with a cheerful greeting, like a small dog.

But everything remained quiet.

He patiently closed the door behind him and took off his shoes - but there was no movement or rustle indicating the approach of the shadow boy.

Could all this really be his sick fantasy? Just hallucinations of his sleepy mind, so eager to fill the emptiness of his apartment, and for this purpose inventing an imaginary friend for him?

Determination flowed down from Nervill as his quiet steps walked into the bedroom, where his unmade bed, left in this state in the morning, and the book on the table, filled the room with their presence.

No shadows and no whispers.

Nervill frowned, and his face twisted in something similar to sadness. He didn’t know why he could feel this way at all - his acquaintance with the shadow-guy was hardly long, much less fruitful. However... he developed some kind of attachment to this creature, this feeling of safety that he felt next to it... it was just cold without it.

He stood there for a few more seconds until the last drops of hope melted into silence, and again there was emptiness.

With a tired sigh, he threw his backpack on the bed and sat down on it himself. It will soon be evening, in a good way, he should make dinner... but he just can’t. This single grain of hope led him along the path of the crossroads, and now that it was gone, he felt that he was left without a buoy, without a safe boat. Alone.

It could have been so, but, as if hearing his dark thoughts, a chill touched Nervill’s neck, and the room no longer seemed so empty.

The guy raised his head, and his gaze darted around in search of a dark figure with eyes like two moons.

The rustling caught his attention again, and he quickly turned around. A smile spread across his face as a shadow floated towards him, creeping along the wall.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" — it asked confusedly when it appeared on the wall in front of Nervill, blind to how happy he really was... without knowing why. Although no, he knew for sure.

Without further ado, Nervill stood up and walked over to the wall, already holding out his hand. The shadow didn’t even have time to blink when the guy’s hand was already on its chest - touching and stroking the wall in the place where the shadow was, trying to just understand, to feel.

There was a coldness emanating from the wall where the shadow was, as if there was an open fridge there. He experimentally placed his other hand nearby on the bare wall. There was no cold.

This means that the cold came precisely from the shadow, which means it could have been real, he couldn’t have gone so crazy, no, it wasn’t his imagination. The shadow was real.

Meanwhile, it was still looking in confusion at him and at the hand with which he was trying to touch it. This probably looked strange to those who didn't know Nervill's intentions.

He pulled away with a sigh, unable to stop the smile on his lips. It was real. There was a living shadow in his apartment. He probably shouldn't be so happy about it, but... he just couldn't hold himself.

Nervill cleared his throat and spoke after a while.

"Oh, yeah, sorry, I just... wanted to check on something," — he took a deep breath. "I checked... And you are, um, really real. Which means you have something to explain to me." — Nervill crossed his arms over his chest, now looking demandingly at the shadow.

The shadow blinked in confusion, although it was clear from the resignation in its eyes that it understood exactly what he required. It sighed and spread its hands.

"Okay. But this... will take time."

Nervill nodded, softening his gaze slightly, and sat down on the floor in front of the shadow in order to be closer to it, ready to catch its every word. He was silent. Shadow too. It was like waiting for a magician to come on - sitting in front of a stage with red curtains before they finally parted. Except he thought it wouldn't be that much fun.

The shadow sighed and raised its white eyes to meet his. It had no pupils, but for some reason Nervill knew for sure that it was looking at him.

"Well... I guess we should start over. I see they didn't tell you about me, right?" — it chuckled quietly. “There were many people here before you, but... they didn’t hear. Didn’t notice. Or just ignored.”

It looked to the side.

"I lived here. Well, I mean..."

It sighed, its gaze tracing the furniture of Nervill's bedroom as he waited patiently for the shadow to speak again, gathering its thoughts.

"I was once a human. I lived here alone, studied, met with friends and everything that people do, and then... I just opened my eyes, and found myself glued to the wall as if i was part of it. I don't know... how, I don’t remember much, just one time I fell asleep in my bed, and the next time I couldn’t even walk around my apartment, just look from the side.”

It ran its hand over its face and again looked with a sad smile at Nervill, who was trying to make his face as friendly and open as possible. He didn't want to scare away the shadow, especially now, never.

"I saw people coming, there were police, there were my friends. They reported me missing, and I just... I just looked at it, unable to do anything. I tried, tried to somehow get their attention, to say I was here, but I couldn’t, they didn’t hear.”

Nervill hummed sympathetically. He wanted to provide some comfort to the shadow, to show how sorry he was... but the story wasn't over. And he didn't know if the shadow would be able to sense him at all if he provided some kind of physical contact. So he just kept listening.

"Then they started renting out this apartment. When there were no people here, I was just alone. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, I couldn't do anything. I just existed, I couldn't even... I couldn't even disappear." — He frowned. “Well, I couldn’t before. Over time, I learned to just... merge with surroundings, you know? With other shadows. Then it was good, I didn’t feel anything, I didn’t see, it was like I was sleeping.”

At least something good, thought Nervill. He didn't know how he would behave if he found himself in this situation.

"Then people started coming to the apartment. I woke up every time someone was in the house. I tried to attract their attention so that someone would notice me... and I succeeded! You see, people notice something... something minor - if I just show up to people, they won't see me, they need preparation and they have to get used to the energy that always surrounds me in order to see me."

The shadow seemed more animated now, no matter how absurd it may sound. In general, the whole situation did not even remotely resemble normal, but Nervill had already come to terms with it. And it was true - those times when he thought his mind was playing tricks on him, it could have been a shadow that was watching him, seeking his attention. This may be creepy to some extent, but to Nervill, on the contrary, it even seemed comforting.

This meant that he wasn't alone, despite his thoughts.

"So you're saying that people need to get used to you before you can show yourself to them, right?" — Nervill clarified. Shadow nodded with a smile. Nerville bit his lip. "How long have you been here?"

Nervill didn't know if they already had limits on what questions they could ask and what they couldn't. He didn’t even fully know the attitude of the shadow itself towards its position - it looked resigned, I mean, as much as possible. He didn't want to cross the line or anything like that, though thinking about it now, the shadow could hardly be offended by him and disappear altogether - they were stuck here together. But even with this, Nervill didn't want to offend it, he wasn't raised that way.

The shadow's eyes softened and dropped to the floor as it pondered something.

“I... I don’t remember. At the moment when I became like this-” it vaguely pointed to its shadow form. "-It was 2018."

"2018?" — Nervill could not contain the drop of disbelief on his face. It’s not that he doesn’t believe the shadow, but... “It’s 2023 now. You’ve been in this state... for five years..?”

"It looks like this." — The shadow lowered its gaze timidly.

Nervill snorted, now looking at the shadow with confusion.

Five years? Five years of wandering around an empty apartment, five years when you can’t do anything, you can’t even tell anyone about your presence... but...

"Couldn't you just leave?" — Nerville suspected the answer. The shadow couldn’t have lived in this apartment all this time - five years - without once trying to leave.

Even Nerville would go crazy here.

Shadow sighed and shrugged slightly.

“No, but I tried. I just... couldn’t get out, it was like I was glued to this apartment, I was being pushed away from going out,” — the shadow shook its head, and perhaps it was Nervill’s imagination, but it faded a little - which was not very good. Nerville didn’t want it to just up and disappear.

It was instinctive, he wanted to comfort the shadow, he wanted to hold it, keep it with him - and his hand itself reached out to lie on the shadow’s shoulder, but instead of cold, instead of a smooth wall, he felt... woolen fabric. He felt the clothes. He didn't even have time to realize it when his fingers tightened on the fabric and pulled...

More brown fabric appeared from the wall, somewhere with patterned seams, Nervill pulled further - he belatedly realized that it was a shoulder, shadow's shoulder, he just pulled further until a head appeared from the wall, black hair, brown sweater...

His heart was pounding, his eyes were wide open, he had no control over himself, but somehow knew what he was doing, what exactly was going on - he grabbed the man from the wall by the shoulders and pulled until his whole body was outside - and the shadow was no longer there.

He rushed back, leaning against the bed, which was just nearby to provide him with support.

Nervill stared with wide eyes at where the shadow had just been, and now only the bare wall, which seemed too empty without the shadow presence, looked back at him.

The body in his arms was motionless. Only quiet wheezing announced that the shadow... who was now a man, alive.

#whump writing #whump art #whump #nonhuman whumpee #original story #oc #oc art #dude #oc whump

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masivechaos · 1 year

Note

★ orion! - send me a character + a prompt/situation -> i'll write a little blurb!

Eddies finds out his partner has been secretly reading up on dnd so they can play with him

Also Congratulations again xx

surprise!

eddie munson x gn! reader | 0.8k

warnings: pure fluff!! (i don't really like this but hope you enjoy :))

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Eddie opened the door quietly, most of the time you were asleep in his bed waiting for him to come back from his corroded coffin shows. Even if he saw the light was still on in his bedroom he didn’t want to risk waking you up, you were so pretty sleeping.

He finally saw you, you were definitely sleeping, laying on his bedsheets, arms under the pillow. But your head seemed to be resting on something. Also, he couldn’t ignore all the mess around you.

When he walked closer he saw your cheek was pressed against the pages of an open book. He was about to laugh, it was totally you to fall asleep while revising your upcoming exams, but his eyes landed on a drawing. A dragon.

Eddie’s eyes dramatically widened, he watched the other books displayed on the bed and saw they were his D&D binders, notebooks and books. He absolutely didn’t know why you were reading his D&D stuff but it just brought him so much happiness.

It was the nicest feeling to know the person you love the most cares about the thing you like the most.

He tried to contain his excitement, not wanting to disturb you but internally he was screaming and jumping. He carefully cleaned off the bed and joined you under the sheets after taking a short shower.

His arms wrapped around your shoulders, your face resting in the crook of his neck. Your eyes fluttered open, finally realising the presence next to you “Hi” you managed to say after a minute.

“Hey” he had a huge grin painted on his face. And you knew him so well, he wanted to tell you something so bad he could get sick.

Even tired, your lips tucked up “What’s going in your mind?” Eddie bit his bottom lip as he stared down at you, his hand brushing your hair.

“Did you- did you read about D&D?” the joy in his voice could be heard and you wished you could smile but there was a hint of disappointment in your heart. He wasn’t supposed to know.

You spent several hours reading his notes or books when he wasn’t home. The most difficult part was to learn the rules but after a while you managed. You went through the different characters and species, finally understanding something Eddie told you.

But how did he even find out? You shut your eyes and finished by remembering, you fell asleep reading his books, it means he found you and saw. “What’s wrong?” he asked when he saw your smile dropping.

“It was supposed to be a surprise… I wanted to play with you…” you looked down, peeved you weren’t careful enough. But as you started to get lost in your thoughts you saw Eddie’s hand slipping into yours, squeezing it.

His other hand came under your chin, titling your head up “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m so happy” he truly was, it was painted on his face. His big brown eyes were shining and his mouth was the biggest beam you ever saw.

You bit your lower lip, still not convinced. Eddie cupped your cheeks with the palms of his hands, his thumbs stroking your cheeks softly “There’s nothing to be disappointed about. I’m the happiest man in the world because I have the best partner. You are so caring, I love how you are invested just because I speak too much about something you wouldn’t care about normally”

God, you loved him so much. “Thank you Eddie” you looked into his eyes with a shy smile, it always made you timid when he was telling you sweet words.

Suddenly his grin changed into a smirk “Sooo…” you were ready for him to ramble without hand and you loved it. “When are we going to play? Do you wanna come to the next session? Or for the first time you just want to watch?” You felt he stopped himself from talking more and you let out a laugh at his excitement, he sounded like a child just before Christmas.

“Um…” the other reason why you learned on your own was that you didn’t dare show up to a meeting to try. Of course, Eddie asked you multiple times. But you refused, you were too scared you would slow down the group. “Is it okay if it’s just the two of us?”

Eddie smiled as he chewed on the inside of his cheek “Of course! We can take all the time we want, hell the entire day!” you chuckled and pecked his lips quickly, it was the only gesture you thought about when you were so tired.

“Yeah we’ll see” you said before resting your head on his shoulder with a little sigh, ready to hear about D&D for the rest of the night.

⋆ ★ eddie munson taglist: @sw34terw34ther @cauliflowertree @vintagepearlss @moonlitmeeks @rhydianissuperior

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yuujispinkhair · 2 years

Text

Kabukicho Love (Chapter 08)

I don't wanna check into the Tokyo Love Hotel. I just want your love all to myself

Successful but lonely businessman Sukuna gave up on love. Why put his heart on the line when he can just as easily buy "love" from the prettiest escorts of Tokyo? But why does this supposedly fake love feel so real when he's with the new boy he booked?

Chapter 1 ++ Chapter 2 ++ Chapter 3 ++ Chapter 4 ++ Chapter 5 ++ Chapter 6 ++ Chapter 7

Pairing: Sukuna x Escort!Yuuji Genre: Escort AU, smut, fluff Word Count: 5k Playlist: Sukuita Escort AU Warnings: 18+, smut, sex work, age gap (Yuuji is 21 and Sukuna 30), oral, fingering, rimming, anal, cumshot, cum eating, alcohol, light angst, mention of a side character's death in later chapters, mutual pining. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

There is art now for this series! Thank you so much to @/silverink58 for drawing this beautiful picture of Sukuna and Yuuji for me! I'm so happy that you let me commission you!

Thank you so much to Liz @/lizarts01 for drawing this super hot and super cute picture of Yuuji + Nobara as sexy bunnies!! I am losing my mind!!

As much as Sukuna tries to distract himself with work, he can't get Yuuji out of his head. It's been two weeks since he last saw him.

His bed feels too empty, and the pillow next to his still smells like Yuuji's hairspray. He doesn't know what's worse. Catching himself drifting over to that pillow at night and waking up with it wrapped in his arms, face buried in the soft material breathing in Yuuji's scent? Or the cold empty feeling that washes over him when he sees the notification that his housekeeper wants to deep clean the bedroom tomorrow, knowing that Yuuji's warm smell will be gone forever?

In the last two weeks, Sukuna drowned himself in work, staying in his office until late at night. Or he spent hours in the gym working out obsessively to tire himself out, so he managed to fall asleep instead of staying up obsessing over pretty honey eyes and a sunshine smile.

He even accompanied some business partners to a hostess club, trying to distract himself by getting drunk on champagne that was too sweet and letting a pretty European girl sit on his lap.

But the moment she leaned closer to kiss his neck and whisper to him, "Want to take me home tonight, daddy?" he turned her down and gently but firmly pushed her off his lap.

It felt wrong. Her body felt wrong. Her weight was too light, her hair was too long and had the wrong color, her voice was too high, and her perfume made him sick.

She wasn't Yuuji.

To Sukuna's annoyance, Gojo keeps spamming his phone. Sending him text message after text message demanding to know where Sukuna is and whether he wants to have another date with sweet Yuuji soon.

Sukuna tries to ignore him. But of course, Gojo Satoru has never been someone who just leaves Sukuna alone. And so it doesn't even surprise the CEO when he is having lunch at his favorite restaurant, and suddenly his old friend strolls towards him with a shit-eating grin on his face.

Gojo plops down on the chair across from Sukuna without waiting for an invitation.

"Ahh, such a coincidence to see you here, Sukuna! How is life?"

"Great."

"Aww, are you sure? There are some dark circles under your eyes. Having problems sleeping? I can help you with that. You know, Yuuji has time tomorrow night. You should invite him over, and he will take good care of your sleeping problem. He is always so sweet with his mouth. It does wonders against insomnia!"

"Do you have any new boys?"

This earns Sukuna a raised eyebrow from his old friend.

"You want a new boy? I thought sweet Yuuji makes you happy. Is there a problem?"

"There's no problem. He is amazing. But I want something fresh. More variety."

Sukuna always thought his poker face was perfect, but unfortunately, Gojo Satoru can read him too damn well.

The white-haired man uncrosses his long legs and leans across the table to eye Sukuna over the rim of his ever-present sunglasses, smiling that infuriating smug smirk.

"Oh, I get it. Our little cutie managed to melt that cold heart of yours, huh? And big bad Sukuna, who turned his back on love after his fiancee left him, doesn't like to feel things again. It scares you, doesn't it?"

His words feel like a punch to Sukuna's gut. Is he that obvious? Does Gojo know about his feelings?

Sukuna takes a sip from his water, acting unbothered, and shakes his head with a laugh.

"You are wrong, brat. Now hurry up and show me your boys. I don't have all day."

Yuuji's POV:

Yuuji knocks nervously on the half-open door leading to Gojo's office in the back area of the Infinity Club. He has a weird feeling about this. Usually, Gojo never asks him to come to his office.

His boss looks up from his current work with a wide grin on his handsome face. Looking like the cat from Alice in Wonderland.

"Aww come in, Yuuji baby! Take a seat, sweetheart!"

He points at the leather chair in front of his massive desk, which is overflowing with a chaotic array of photos, folders, and empty candy wrappers.

Yuuji does as Gojo tells him and sits down, playing with his fingers in his lap as he looks at his boss with big eyes.

"Hey, um, why did you call me here? Is everything ok?"

"Of course it is! Listen, honey, I just wanted to know whether Sukuna asked for your phone number or something? When was the last time you saw him? You are not in trouble at all, by the way! No matter what you answer."

"Oh! No, it's not like that! He... he didn't ask for my number. We aren't meeting in private. I wouldn't do that! You know I am very grateful for working for you! I wouldn't break the rules!"

Yuuji's heart is racing. What is this about? He doesn't want to lose his job! He will never be able to afford his grandpa's residence if he gets fired!

But Gojo laughs, and one of his elegant hands makes a gesture as if chasing away a fly.

"Aww, sweet baby, don't worry, your cute little mind, ok? Everything is fine. I just wanted to know. Because you see, it's uncommon for my old friend Sukuna to not contact me. Did something happen?"

"No, not that I know of, at least. I've been wondering about it too. I am so sorry if I messed up. I... I miss him."

"Oh? Is that so?"

Gojo's blue eyes are boring into Yuuji's, almost as if he can see right into his mind. He cocks his head curiously and watches Yuuji with a thoughtful expression while one long elegant finger plays with his bottom lip.

"Well, Yuu-chan, I don't think you did anything wrong. If at all, it was rather that you did your job too well."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"You're so cute, honey. Don't worry about it. Just leave it to me. I would say we have to lure our dear Sukuna back to our club and back into your loving arms. And I already know how to do that. Tell me, Yuuji, did you ever dress up as a bunny?"

Sukuna's POV:

Another night trying to forget his stressful job and fight his loneliness. Another night in the neon lights of Kabukicho, sitting in a VIP booth in one of the most popular nightclubs in Tokyo.

In the end, Gojo recommended another pretty college boy to him, and Sukuna booked him for tonight. Gojo insisted, though, that Sukuna had to book a private booth in the Infinity Club, and cute Toge would entertain him here.

"It will be good for you to go out! Drink something and enjoy the music and the atmosphere! I know what's good for you!"

That's why Sukuna is here, leaning back against the backrest of the comfy dark-blue leather couch and swirling the ice cubes in his longdrink glass around as he waits for a pretty boy who will hopefully take his mind of Yuuji.

He has to get this longing for a sunshine smile and honey eyes and a strong muscular body under control. Maybe Toge will help him with that.

Sukuna looks at his Rolex. Half an hour until his date. He lets his gaze stray through the club. Tonight is Bunny Night. All the hosts and hostesses are dressed in sexy bunny costumes, which show more than they hide.

Sukuna has to give Gojo that. The man has a knack for aesthetics. His nightclub is one of the most exclusive establishments in Tokyo's red-light district.

A club that provides the right service for any needs. Hostesses and hosts, both catering to all genders. Touching is allowed if you pay enough. You can get anything you want. A private dance is available, a night just spent in charming company is possible. But also a night full of sex, either in a love hotel or in the comfort of your own home if you wish.

Everything is perfect here in the luxurious Infinity Club. It looks opulent. Fancy couches and armchairs made of the finest leather. Magnificent chandeliers that reflect the neon lights. It's an alluring mix of modern and royal-like decadence. Something for the eye. Something where the rich and powerful feel at home.

The Infinity Club is a private club. The monthly amount of yen you have to pay is outrageous. But it's worth it. Nowhere else will you find a club so pleasing to the eye, including the eye candy that the boys and girls working here are.

Suddenly a familiar pastel pink hair catches Sukuna's eye.

He draws in a sharp breath. He didn't know Yuuji worked in the club tonight! Usually, he is only available for private bookings, during which he meets his clients at restaurants or in love hotels. It's rare that he still waitresses. Is it because of Bunny Night?

Sukuna stares at him wide-eyed.

Yuuji looks gorgoeus. He always does, of course. But that cute little bunny outfit is perfect for him. He is shirtless, his muscular bare torso looking so enticing with the glitter sprayed on it. His buff muscles flex seductively with every move.

The cute bunny ears in his pink hair bounce with every step, and his pretty smile is so dazzling that he draws all eyes to him.

And those tight skimpy hotpants he's wearing are sinful. Hugging his cute round ass snuggly. The same ass that is so sweet and tight around Sukuna's cock anytime he fucks Yuuji.

Today that cute hole is stuffed with an anal plug with a fluffy bunny tail attached to it. The hotpants are conveniently cut out to show off the naughty detail.

Yuuji looks so cute and sexy that Sukuna gets hard just from looking at him.

His unhelpful mind provides him with all the dirty things he would like to do to that cute bunny right now.

He wants Yuuji on his lap. Wants to pull out that anal plug and tell that sweet bunny boy to ride his cock right here in the private booth. He wants to hear Yuuji moan his name. Wants to see him mess up his little hotpants because he can't hold back when he has Sukuna's cock inside him.

"Oh, dammit!"

Sukuna curses loudly. He has to get a grip! Keep that horniness for the new boy he booked. He'll make sure to bend Toge over this bench and fuck all his frustration into him until Sukuna forgets about bunny Yuuji.

But to Sukuna's dismay, Yuuji doesn't disappear again in the throngs of people. Instead, the guy working behind the bar waves him over. Sukuna forgets to breathe momentarily when Yuuji leans against the bar counter, bending over and giving the CEO an even better view of that firm round ass with the cute bunny tail.

The bartender says something to Yuuji and hands him one of the mini Ipads the Infinity staff uses to take orders.

Sukuna watches with growing horror as Yuuji smiles and makes his way toward the VIP booths.

"This can't be true. Are you kidding me?"

Sukuna mutters under his breath. Why does it have to be Yuuji who is in charge of waitressing tonight? One could almost suspect Satoru has something to do with this!

But before Sukuna can think more about that, Yuuji has already reached his booth and peeks inside, bunny ears bouncing cutely on top of his pink hair.

"Good evening! Do you desire anything from our menu, sir?"

His gaze lands on Sukuna, and his face lights up in pure delight. He makes a cute surprised sound and beams at the CEO,

"Oh, Sukuna! It's so nice to see you!"

His free hand immediately flies to the golden necklace with the little tiger charm. Even tonight, when he has to wear a costume that requires him to be shirtless, he still didn't take off Sukuna's gift. Sukuna's heart clenches as he stares at the way Yuuji is twirling the charm between his fingers.

The boy is still babbling, sounding so cute and excited.

"I was waiting for a notice from you. You must have been very busy with work, hm? I'm so sorry about that. I hope it wasn't too stressful! It's nice that you can have an evening to relax. If you like, I can keep you company and help you let go of the stress. Oh, and I have a new movie I really want to show you! I can tell you about it, and maybe we can watch it when you have more free time!"

Yuuji steps into the booth, smiling that happy sunshine smile, and for a moment, the whole world is ok again. Sukuna feels so warm, bathed in Yuuji's radiance.

For a moment, he forgets why he wanted to avoid the boy. For a moment, he is tempted to just give in and ask Yuuji to join him. And later on, Sukuna could take his angel home, fuck him, watch movies with him, feed him strawberry cheesecake ice cream and hold him all night.

And then Yuuji sees the little notice on the glass table in front of Sukuna that says that Toge is booked for the next two hours. His face falls. It makes Sukuna's chest ache.

Yuuji is quick to cover it up, though, trying his best to stay professional. He smiles at Sukuna. But it's not a genuine smile. For the first time, Sukuna can see that it is just an act. It's too bright, too fake. It doesn't reach Yuuji's eyes.

"Oh, I see you booked Toge tonight. That's great! I think you will have a lot of fun with him. He's very pretty and a sweet guy. Enjoy your night, sir. I hope our services are to your pleasure."

He bows his head but not before Sukuna can see the disappointment and hurt in those pretty honey eyes.

It breaks Sukuna's heart. He cannot take this hurt look on Yuuji's pretty face, knowing that he was the one who put it there.

All his instincts scream at him to make it ok again. To comfort Yuuji, reassure him, shower him with praise, and let him know he is still Sukuna's number one! Not just number one... Sukuna's only one.

Because who is he trying to fool here? Does he really want to have someone else? Will it really help him to fuck another ass, to kiss another pair of lips? Or isn't it more likely that any boy he books will just be a desperate and unsuccessful attempt at trying to forget Yuuji? After all, none of them will ever be like Yuuji. They won't even come close to Yuuji.

So who is Sukuna trying to fool?

He knows the answer. Himself. He is trying so desperately to convince himself that he can just forget about Yuuji and move on.

But it's not true.

Sukuna can't just forget Yuuji or replace him. It will not work. Because he likes this sweet boy standing in front of him in that sexy bunny outfit.

The boy who is currently biting his lips and looking like he's going to cry despite the smile plastered to his pretty face. And it's all Sukuna's fault.

"Yuuji...no... this must be a mistake. I didn't book anyone. Someone must have mixed something up. I want to cancel that booking, please. If it's too late, just put it on my card, but I don't want to meet Toge. I'm just going to finish my drink and leave."

Yuuji nods and grabs the booking receipt to rip it in two. But his hands are shaking. He knows Sukuna is lying.

It makes even more guilt wash over the CEO. He didn't want Yuuji to find out about this. He didn't want to hurt the boy.

For the first time in a long time, Sukuna is at a loss for what to do or say. His mouth opens and closes again, unable to come up with the right thing to say.

Before he can find his voice again, a third person peeks inside the booth. A girl with ginger hair and a pair of boobs so plump that they almost spill out of her little bunny dress. She wraps a hand around Yuuji's buff biceps, leaning against his side, pressing those tits against him.

"Here you are! Come on, that guy in booth 5 saw us and wants to meet those cute ginger and pink bunnies. Hurry up, dumbass! He is a good tipper! Don't ruin this for me!"

Her gaze drifts over to Sukuna, smiling at him and cocking her head flirtatiously, all professional again,

"I'm sorry, sir, but I have to kidnap this cute bunny now. But you can book him another time. Me too, by the way! Or both of us at the same time. Just ask for Nobara and Yuuji. We can fulfill your every fantasy! Have a nice evening!"

She blows him a kiss and then yanks on Yuuji's arm impatiently.

Yuuji nods dazedly and lets her pull him after her. His golden gaze swipes one last time over Sukuna. He still looks sad, and the smile still doesn't reach his eyes when he mutters a good night in Sukuna's direction.

Sukuna is lying in his dark bedroom, rolling restlessly from side to side, unable to fall asleep.

He has a lot of regrets about this evening. He regrets thinking it would be a good idea to book another boy. He regrets letting Gojo convince him to come to the Infinity Club. And most of all, he regrets that his actions upset Yuuji.

Sukuna practically fled the club after his unexpected meeting with Yuuji, driving much too fast and cursing himself all the way home to his penthouse. He had been such a fool!

His right hand wraps around his half-hard cock, leisurely stroking it to full hardness. Maybe it will help him if he jacks off. He needs the stress relief an orgasm can give him.

Unbidden, a picture of Yuuji in his sexy little bunny outfit comes to Sukuna's mind, and a loud moan falls from his lips as his hips jerk.

There is no turning back now. His erection is throbbing needily in his palm as more images of Yuuji flood the CEO's mind.

He wraps his fist tighter around his straining cock, pumping his hard length faster now, with more need, more vigor. Fucking himself to the thoughts of pretty honey eyes and cute bunny ears in pink hair, the glitter on those defined buff muscles, the tight round ass that looked so seductive with that little bunny tail.

"Ah, fuck!"

Sukuna's hips buck wildly.

He wants to go back to the club and replay that moment. Wants to make it right. He wants to tell Yuuji that he is the only one Sukuna wants. He wants to fuck Yuuji. He wants to claim that sexy bunny, make him scream and cry and cum for Sukuna like the perfect little pet that he is.

His eyes close, and he gets lost in fantasies about sexy bunny boy Yuuji on his knees, bending over the leather couch, wiggling his cute ass as he looks back at Sukuna with his big golden eyes full of desire and need. He imagines Yuuji begging Sukuna to take him and cum inside him.

"Please fill me, Sukuna! Fuck it all into me. Please make me yours!"

"Am I the only one you let cum inside your cute ass?"

"Yes, only you!"

The dirty fantasy is driving Sukuna wild. His moans echo loudly in his bedroom as he fucks his fist frantically. He is losing his mind over the idea of Yuuji taking his cum in his ass.

In his mind, Sukuna pulls out of Yuuji's creampied ass, watching his cum slowly trickle out of the boy's hole before Sukuna puts the anal plug with the bunny tail back and pushes it lovingly into Yuuji's sweet cum-filled hole.

"Keep it all in, baby. I want you to have my seed inside you all night. You are mine, all mine. You know who you belong to, right? Say it, Yuuji."

"I belong to you, Sukuna! I'm yours!"

White lights explode behind Sukuna's eyelids when he cums all over his fist, crying out Yuuji's name over and over again.

An hour later, Sukuna is still wide away. He sighs and sits up in his bed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. Now that his earlier desire has cooled off, he gets filled with a new wave of regret.

The only thing that makes him get rid of the image of Yuuji's pretty face clouded by disappointment is to drink so much vodka that the picture in his mind gets blurry, and Sukuna can finally slip into a restless sleep that is filled with neon lights and golden eyes.

Sukuna is in his office drinking his third coffee when he gets a call from Gojo. His old friend sounds far too smug:

"Did you enjoy the bunnies last night?"

"Fuck you, Satoru. Was that your idea? Dangling him in front of me like that?"

"Aww, what do you think of me, Kuna-chan!? As if I would do that! But you know it's kinda disappointing that one of my best clients and closest friends, I might add, doesn't make any bookings anymore. Our establishment misses you!"

"I hate you. Don't call me again."

"No, you don't hate me. You hate that a cute boy could make you feel something and that no matter how hard you try, you can't stop thinking about him. Just give in, Sukuna. Just come back. I'll cancel the date sweet Yuuji has scheduled for tonight and give it to you instead. Hmm, what do you say to that?"

"I am ending this call now."

He hangs up on Gojo, sighing as he leans back in his office chair. This is one of the things he finds the most annoying about Satoru. As carefree as he acts, he always sees through things and people and quickly grasps what is happening. He somehow has the gift of knowing everyone's weak spots.

And Sukuna's weak spot are his feelings for Yuuji.

He feels a headache coming up, and it's not because of the vodka he drank last night.

Yuuji's POV:

Yuuji doesn't understand why Sukuna doesn't book him anymore. Since that night in the club where the CEO had scheduled a date with Toge instead of Yuuji, things have felt wrong. There's a constant ache in Yuuji's chest. A lump in his throat, and it's harder than usual to smile his sunshine smile.

Why doesn't Sukuna want to see him anymore? Did Yuuji do something wrong? Was he too unprofessional? Yes, maybe.

It had been getting harder and harder lately to hide his feelings for Sukuna. Maybe the other man sensed something and was disgusted by it. By the fact that a whore loved him.

The thought makes tears well up in Yuuji's eyes. He wipes them away angrily. It's not fair to accuse Sukuna of this. He never treated Yuuji as inferior or as if his profession was something dirty.

But it's still obvious that they don't feel the same. Why would a successful and gorgeous man like Sukuna be interested in him besides the services he books Yuuji for? Of course, Yuuji knew that all along! But he can be so stupid sometimes...so naive. He hates it.

When Sukuna didn't book him as usual, Yuuji told himself his favorite client was just busy. Surly Sukuna had a lot of work, and that's why he didn't have time to meet Yuuji.

It was stupid to think this. After all, in the past few months, Sukuna had always told Yuuji that he helped him let go of his stressful job. So it didn't make sense that Sukuna would not book him.

Gojo had also sensed something was wrong. That's why he called Yuuji to his office.

He said something about a plan, and the next thing Yuuji knew was that he would participate in Bunny Night.

And during that event, the bartender sent him to VIP booth 3 to take an order from the patron there.

That's how Yuuji suddenly found himself face-to-face with Sukuna.

Had that been Gojo's plan? If yes, it clearly didn't work because Sukuna left without Yuuji. And Yuuji had to spend the next two hours entertaining a businessman in booth 5 who was nothing like sexy and caring Sukuna.

Yuuji sighs as he rolls over onto his back and stares at his bedroom ceiling.

The worst thing is that he has gotten so used to spending time with Sukuna. He misses those happy moments they shared. Those moments where they weren't client and escort but just two people who got along well and enjoyed spending time together.

All the nights he spent at Sukuna's apartment, watching movies with him, cuddling and laughing together. Falling asleep in Sukuna's strong arms afterwards. Making breakfast for him, feeling so appreciated when Sukuna hugged him from behind and held him the whole time. Feeling so taken care of when Sukuna drove him to his college in the mornings, smiled at him, kissed him goodbye, and told him to please take care.

Somehow Yuuji had constructed this little fantasy in his mind, where he thought they had a real connection. Where he could pretend what they had was almost a relationship.

And that's why this feels strangely like a breakup, even though Yuuji wasn't dating Sukuna for real.

His heart clenches painfully, and he has to wipe some fresh tears away. What did he do wrong?

Sukuna's POV:

Sukuna hates to admit it, but he lost this battle.

As much as he tries to fight his feelings by avoiding Yuuji, he can't stop his every waking thought from wandering to his pink-haired cutie.

He can't stop his chest from feeling too tight and his heart from being too heavy.

He didn't expect it to be that hard to stop thinking about a pretty boy with honey-colored eyes. But here he is, filled with a terrible yearning.

He misses that pretty face, that sweet smile, the sparkle in those honey eyes when Yuuji gets all excited while telling Sukuna about his favorite movies. All the big gestures with his hands, his voice getting louder every second in his excitement to share his thoughts about the things he loves.

He misses seeing Yuuji in his kitchen, making breakfast for them. Smiling so genuinely happy when Sukuna complimented the food Yuuji prepared for him. He misses the warm feeling of driving to work with Yuuji by his side in the passenger seat, chattering to Sukuna about all kinds of things, and kissing Sukuna so sweetly goodbye before exiting the car a few streets away from his university building.

He misses their dates at all their favorite restaurants.

He thinks back to all the hours they spent together. He thinks about all the small details that somehow made him like this boy so much.

And he finally sees it clear as day: Yuuji stole his heart without Sukuna even realizing it until it was too late.

Love happens unexpectedly. It lays its roots in small, trivial moments.

Like when they had food delivered to Sukuna's apartment. Sukuna went to get more wine from the kitchen, and once he walked back into the dining area, he caught Yuuji holding the plate to his face, licking it clean to get all the delicious sauce out of it.

The boy made a surprised sound and quickly put the plate back down, blushing and looking sheepishly at Sukuna, muttering an apology for his bad table manners. It was so endearing.

Gojo must have told him to always act appropriately in front of his clients, who all belonged to the circle of Tokyo's richest and most successful people.

Sukuna had smiled at Yuuji and cupped his blushing cheeks, and kissed him slowly. Reassuring him that it was ok and that the sauce was really to die for. Sukuna decided at that moment that he would order the same meal again next time for Yuuji if he liked it so much.

He wishes Yuuji was here now and Sukuna could order all his favorite meals. Could make sure the boy has everything he needs.

Sukuna thinks about Yuuji visiting his sick grandpa, caring for him, and making sure to give the old man the best possible life.

Sweet Yuuji. He is so kind and cares for others so much. Yuuji with his heart of gold. So warm and sweet.

Sukuna remembers a moment of slow lovemaking in his bed before he had to go to work. Yuuji opened his beautiful honey eyes to look up at him, and he didn't take his gaze off Sukuna again. Instead, he caressed Sukuna's cheek and looked deeply into his eyes while Sukuna moved on top of him.

He remembers how beautiful Yuuji looked that morning with the sunlight dancing over his pastel pink hair and the tender expression in his eyes. He remembers thinking he wanted to capture this moment and keep it forever. That he never wanted that morning to end. He remembers thinking at that moment that maybe he wanted to spend forever with Yuuji and wake up with him every morning for the rest of his life.

Sukuna gets pulled out of his thoughts by a knock on his office door. A moment later, his assistant looks inside and informs him that his meeting is about to start.

He gives her a curt nod, waiting until the door closes again before he groans softly and runs a hand through his hair, smoothing it down even though it already is perfect.

This is crazy. He keeps drifting off, thoughts always occupied by warm tan skin and golden eyes.

He knows this has to stop. And he tried to stop it. But it seems to be out of his control.

Sukuna is used to being the one in control. So realizing that there is something that he cannot control is driving him up the wall.

But that isn't even his biggest problem. Because even harder than the irritation is the pain. His chest feels too tight when he thinks of Yuuji.

He swore he wouldn't develop feelings again after his fiancee left him. He wanted to keep his heart safe. But he failed.

His heart isn't his anymore. It's Yuuji's now, and Sukuna has to accept it and learn how to live with the pain this brings.

He was so stupid. He was such a fool to let things get this far. But he was an even bigger fool when he decided to run away from those feelings and erase Yuuji from his life. That's what he knows now.

Maybe there would have been a chance for them. For this to work. For it to become more. If Sukuna had just accepted that he couldn't fight his feelings.

But it's too late now. Sukuna feels like he fucked this up deeply. It's too late to confess his feelings. Especially after the way Sukuna acted during the last few weeks. He hurt Yuuji. He pushed him away. It wouldn't be fair to go back to him now.

He will stay far away. He will give the boy a chance to be happy.

And one day, Sukuna will be able to move on too. Time will heal this wound. All of this will pass.

But he can't stop the doubt from seeping into his thoughts. He can't help but wonder.

What if it doesn't pass?

Thank you so much for reading the new chapter!! Ngl I cried while writing this :( Sukunaaaaa, what are you doing?! I feel so bad for Yuuji baby, but also for Sukuna. Gojo was doing his best!! But hey, Kuna is a stubborn guy. Let's see what the future brings for the broken hearts in Tokyo. Also, how did you like bunny Yuuji? I understand Sukuna's reaction. I was losing my mind a lot too while writing sexy bunny Yuu :) Please let me know what you think! Comments and reblogs make me very happy!

Chapter 9

#sukuita #sukuna x yuuji #sukuna x itadori #jjk fluff #jjk smut #sukuna #sukuna fluff #sukuna smut #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

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