#watch me try to tag this like ao3 lol
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I'm not done with the Blackeclipse story, but I'm shifting gears to my One True Love... Drarry
Chapter 1 (2k) Slow burn
AO3 link, Ch 2
This is a Trans!Harry fic (Gender Fluid/NB/Queer!Harry).
Basically, the Dursleys didn't want to raise a girl so they brought Harry up as a boy. It didn't really matter till 8th year when it suddenly did.
Most chapters will be T but some will be 18+
Also, there will probs be trigger warnings on some chapters for abuse, PTSD, anxiety, depression, etc.
This first chapter is kind of harsh as we do dive into some of Harry's past for backstory so...Take care of yourselves
Harry was having an identity crisis.
At least, that's what Hermione called it.
Supposedly, since he had spent most of the last decade trying to survive, he hadn't had much time to think about his gender.
Or maybe it's just that his gender had never been an issue before. It always just...was.
Granted, when Harry was little, he had tried to understand, but his middle school library didn't have any information on anatomy, let alone 'Sissy Boys.'
That's what he was.
A Sissy Boy.
At least, that's what the Dursleys had called him, and, as he was just a little kid who didn't know any better, Harry believed them.
Sissy Boys were weak and stupid, and they didn't have a penis like Real Boys.
Sissy Boys were freaks.
And Harry had been twice as freakish because of the accidental magic that he didn't understand.
Looking back, Harry could see how their influence shaped his understanding of the world and himself. Their treatment of him was still engrained on his psyche.
The Mind Healer Harry had seen after the war wasn't very helpful when it came to things like that though. Sure, they had helped him understand his panic attacks and how to work through them. They helped with finding coping mechanisms for when everything became too much. They had even started him down this path of self-discovery.
It was actually them who had suggested he attend Hogwarts for the 'eighth year' McGonagall had offered his class. Supposedly, it would be good for him to have the chance to be a normal teenager.
Well, here he was, back at Hogwarts, and he felt anything but normal. Though, Harry had to admit, that was a comfort in its own right. He wouldn't know what to do with himself if all he had going on was classes and gossip.
Maybe that was why he had dove head-first into this particular issue. This was something tangible. Researchable. Understandable.
On the first day of classes, Harry skipped lunch in favor of perusing the library alone. All he could think about during his morning classes was seeing if the Hogwarts library had the information his middle school library hadn't. Surely it must.
As he wandered up and down the aisles, Harry's mind strayed to other distractions. He assumed Hermione was at lunch—seeing as they didn't even have homework yet—and Ron hadn't come back for eighth year. He was in Diagon working with George.
That had led to a lot of yelling and crying, and now Ron and Hermione weren't speaking to each other.
Again.
And while Harry had stayed far away from that minefield, Ron wasn't talking to him right now either.
He and Hermione were on speaking terms, but they didn't do much speaking, even before the fighting. They mostly sat in each other's company, both terrified of being alone.
After twenty minutes of wandering up and down the aisles, Harry finally gave in and asked Madam Pince for directions.
While he was terrified of the shriveled old shrew, she did direct him to the proper section, scowling suspiciously all the while. He made his way over to the shelves and stared at the books blankly.
He could feel Pince's eyes on him, so he pulled a book down at random, flipping it over and pretending to read the synopsis. After a few moments, he looked back up at the shelf and grabbed two more books from different shelves.
Confident that at least one would be able to answer his questions, Harry took the books back to Pince to check them out. He put them into his bag and there they sat the rest of the day.
He went to his afternoon classes and kept his eyes on the teacher or his notes, but his mind never strayed from the books in his bag and the answers they might hold.
When he finally made it to the eighth-year common room after dinner, Harry went straight to his room. He had his own with a private bathroom—Thank Merlin—; so, he grabbed the library books and flopped onto his bed.
Examining them, he thought he did a pretty good job blindly grabbing. The first was Sex versus Gender. The second, Anatomy for Dummies. And the third was just called Trans.
Harry still wasn't sure what 'trans' meant, but McGonagall and Pomfrey had both used the term when asking about him in first year. So, at the very least, he could finally learn what it meant.
He started with the anatomy book, flipping until he got to the section labeled Male v Female. The cover page just had symbols and things on it, so he turned to the next page.
Here, there was a drawing on each page. Both the male and female were just outlines with their organs showing. A big arrow pointed to the female's gut, pointing out the additional organ labeled 'The Uterus.'
Harry frowned and turned the page again, a sinking feeling in his gut. There were two more drawings, this time zoomed in and slightly from the side.
Harry wasn't stupid. He had looked down there before and he knew it was definitely not what was drawn on the 'male' figure.
He turned the page again and was greeted with 'The Vagina.'
Harry's stomach rioted. He leaped off the bed and sprinted for the bathroom. When all of his dinner had made a reappearance, he sat on the floor. Putting his back against the wall, Harry pulled his knees up, hiding his face.
Female
Male
Sissy Boy
Female
Sissy Boy
Male
Female
"Harry?"
He jumped as he felt Hermione's hand on his ankle. Her face was blurry, but he could see her furrowed brows.
"Harry, are you ill? Do you need to go to Madam Pomfrey?"
Harry just stared at her. His mind was spinning too fast to grasp what she was saying, let alone formulate a response.
Seeing his blank, unfocused look, Hermione sighed. She left to fetch his school robes, which had been tossed carelessly over his desk chair. Walking back to Harry, she pulled the Walkman out of one of the pockets and turned it on.
She held the headset up to one ear to make sure it was playing before slowly reaching out to put it over both of his. Then she picked his glasses up off the floor, cleaned them with a tap of her wand, and put those on him too.
When his hands came up to adjust the way his glasses and the headphones sat on his ears, Hermione sighed in relief. She went back out into his room, putting his robes in the hamper, and grabbed his charms book from his bag to read.
She was about to go back to the bathroom to sit with him when she noticed the books on Harry's bed. Curious, she went over to look and gasped.
"Oh, Harry."
Not wanting to overwhelm him, she left the books and went to sit beside him on the bathroom floor. At least she knew what this was about. Usually, when he had an episode, what set him off was anyone's guess.
This?
This they had been expecting.
This, Hermione was prepared for.
So, she sat across from Harry on the floor of the bathroom, waiting for the storm raging in his mind to slow.
It was a surprisingly short while before Harry paused his music. He even took the headphones off, wrapping them gently around the player. He stood, still a little shaky, and dropped a brief kiss to the top of Hermione's head in thanks before making his way back to his bed.
Hermione followed him and sat at his desk as he pulled pajamas out of his trunk. She was already dressed for bed, having only come seeking him to check in and say good night. Hermione was glad she came.
As the desk and the bathroom door sat along the same wall, Hermione couldn't see into the bathroom from her seat. So, Harry left the door open as he went in to change and brush his teeth. As she had expected, Harry started talking once he was out of sight.
Unexpectedly, he didn't ask if she already knew or why they hadn't told him. No. Instead, he asked, "You know what the worst part is?"
It was rhetorical, but she answered anyway, "That you're only just now getting to figure this out?"
He snorted, "Nah, I've never had great timing."
He had a point.
"No. The worst part is that I knew. Or should have known. Or-" He paused, and she could picture him running his hands over his face, glasses askew. "Part of me had to have known first year with how everyone was asking all those weird questions. And I had to have known third year when Remus was telling me about-"
He trailed off, but Hermione knew. Remus had told Harry about his parents. About how they were expecting a baby girl. About how they would have loved to see who he had become, no matter what.
"I just didn't want it to be true."
Hermione could hear him brushing his teeth. She had no idea what to say to that.
When he came out of the bathroom, Hermione stood, holding her arms out in invitation. Harry didn't always accept hugs, especially not after having an episode, but he did this time.
In another life, he might have been taller than her. As it was, he was painfully small and frail. Even years of Hogwarts' feasts and Molly's cooking couldn't make up for a decade of malnourishment. Especially since he had still spent his summers at Privet Drive.
Another wave crashed through him as Harry realized he wasn't just small for his age; he was small for a boy. Hermione was average height, and he was almost as tall as her.
Which meant he was normal height.
For a girl.
Taking a deep breath, Harry pulled away. "Does this mean I have to wear a skirt now?"
The question startled a laugh out of Hermione before she could suppress it. Harry was smiling too, but the worry in his eyes belittled the effect.
"You don't have to do anything," she promised. "You could go on like you have been and no one would know the difference."
Harry nodded to himself. But... Did he want to go on like he had been?
"Or," she continued, "You can keep reading those books and decide for yourself who it is you want to be. This isn't an all-or-nothing, Harry."
He looked back up at her, confusion etched into his face. She smiled and went over to his bed, picking up Sex versus Gender and Trans.
"These are a great start, and I know a few others that might be helpful too. Don't be afraid to ask, Okay? And-" She choked off and switched directions, "You can write to Charlie too; they're nonbinary. They might be able to help you with more specific questions."
Something 'clicked' for Harry at the mention of Charlie. How the second eldest Weasley wasn't exactly masculine, but also not very feminine.
Both and Neither.
At the same time.
Harry looked down at the books in his hands and nodded again. He went over to sit on the edge of his bed, studying their covers. Hermione kissed his head and left, calling for him to try to sleep at least a bit tonight; even though they both knew he wouldn't.
Sighing, he settled back against the headboard, opened Sex versus Gender, and began to read.
@bradley-95147-blog @shyshadows430
#drarry#slow burn#trans!harry potter#nb!charlie weasley#abusive dursleys#harry needs a hug#watch me try to tag this like ao3 lol
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same anon as before here. i find it refreshing that other people out there are willing to say out loud that all the kazumaji gets super tiresome. i enjoy majima a lot but find kazumaji totally overrated and so it is not fun out here lol. especially because the way fandom portrays the ship is almost never true to the characters at all (gaa gaa eyes, as you say). replaying the games is a good idea tho. i did that and my enjoyment for majima (and my other favorite side characters!) came back once i remembered what he was really like outside of fandom.
oh no yeah i totally get you 😭 i feel blessed to have known people from when i first got into the series who are as Over It as i am, but it still gets so lonely out here sometimes. i have some doodles and video projects i'd like to at least try to do at some point but i'm definitely going to replay y0 soonish (after gaiden maybe?) because it's been FOREVER and i'd like to have it fresher in my mind haha
dead souls is also a brilliant game for majima, people cry for a majima game all the time but i'm like dude we already have dead souls? he's in his fucking element throughout his entire gameplay segment, don't just ignore it because it has objectively terrible gameplay for the sole reason of "they tried to make a third-person shooter inside a brawler game"
#i need a ps3 so bad for real#trying to emulate a game that already emulates like butt and ass ON A STEAM DECK was setting myself up for disaster#but trying and failing and then watching a main story playthrough was the better option out of that or playing yakuza 4 LOL#pour one out for the like three people who've written majiwagi and posted it to ao3 though#they've all very much helped me to not immediately block majima's tag on tumblr <3#i will say though it's nice not being on like twitter or anything or having tons of followers cause i could not deal with the whole#walking on eggshells around everyone shit that i hear from people who do use twitter#one of my friends thought they'd get cancelled for a reina rarepair and i'm just out here like bro live your best life#me#text#ask#anon
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everyone on here freaking out about whatever is gonna happen in the new 9-1-1 episode tonight and im just over here watching s1 for the first time and having mild breakdown about it
#i just watched the s1 finale#i love buck so much like so so much#he is so good?? and kind??#im so in love#im also so invested in just everything about the show i wasn't expecting to actually love it as much as i do#also so hyped to start s2 because eddie🥰#i do know pretty much every major plot point in the show because i became invested in it through stuff i saw on here#and then went down a big youtube rabbit hole and a slightly smaller ao3 rabbit hole before actually starting the show#so im already in love with eddie and hes not even been introduced yet for me#it also means im almost as excited to see what happens in tonights episode#through like gifs and stuff on here as everyone else is to actually watch the episode#normally i very much try to avoid spoilers for stuff i watch but because of the backwards way ive become obsessed with this show#i so dont care at all#its such a fun way of consuming media honestly#wow ive really rambled in these tags shoutout to anyone actually reading them lol
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i can't believe we're getting more heartstopper contentttttjfhgjdfjdkf
#*i can't belieeeve what u've done to meeee*#on the other hand tho i need s2 now lmfao rewatching the show 23856847365 times and#refreshing the ao3 tag 47y756748375834 tiems a day is not enough <3#jk i will be very patient lol#and rewatching interviews over and over fjhgddf#no but part of me doesnt wanna watch it again rn but most of me is like#i'm bored i'm just gonna put it on yk lol#and thats probably what i'm gonna do jdkfhgdkjsshjgs#while i'm finishing up this lyric design thing lol#i need to wake up at like idk before 8am tomorrow which is gross :D lol like ofc i Could just sleep earlier#but i don't like sleeping earlier ffs#this will definitely be helped by me starting a hs rewatch at 9:30 pm <3#but whatever i'm gonna finish this lyric design thing lol or at least try#i haven't been trying very hard to finish it XD#it's lowkey looking trash rn we'll see how this goes lmfao#anyway fjkghkdjf#jeanne talks#if i write it normal in the text of a post does it show up when ppl search for h/earstoppper lmao
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uncalled for
summary: you get quite upset when poe "saves" your assigned mission by giving orders to your teams without consulting you; poe is determined to fix his mistake.
warnings: (public) arguing, talks of the future; family and having kids
tags: gn!reader, angst, being parents to bb8, fluff, this ends up being real sweet tbh
word count: 1.7k
masterlist | taglist | ao3
updates blog: @eyelessupdates
(uh yeah I'm back if you even noticed I was gone lol. I might just post this and disappear again for a little longer idk but anyways I'll explain the reason whenever I'm back for good; I'm okay don't worry, and I'm still gonna post fics don't worry it's nothing too serious fr)
It causes a disruption when you both barge into the hangar; despite the constant clattering and whirring of tools and material there, both your bitter shoutings have been overlapping the sounds ever since Poe started following you closely, right from the moment you hastily jumped out of your x wing to try to forget about the awful management of your mission that would probably cost you to never get to lead one again.
“It was my call, not yours” you affirm bitterly, voice dripping with resentment, your steps heavy and hurried as you try to shake Poe off but he is anything if not persevering, so it only manages to piss you off even more and fuel your frustration. “I didn’t need you to save my mission or whatever,” you exclaim, causing heads to turn as you walk across the large room, barely minding what is going on around you.
“I did because I knew it would work!” Poe tries to explain, still heeling you closely. “I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t sure it would be successful” he declares louder than he needs to, thrown off when you suddenly stop in your steps, turning to him.
“So you think you can make decisions for me? You think I can’t do it, can’t command a mission correctly?” you rhetorically ask, revolted, sighing a profanity under your breath before you storm off again, your steps resonating with frustration. Poe sighs and winces before he follows you again, taking a hold of your arm.
“Babe come on you know that’s not–”
You stop again, your patience running short. “You had no right to encroach on my orders, I knew what I had to do, and you stepping in with your own instructions could have blown the whole mission up!” you call out, pressing a finger to his chest.
It’s when you finally take a moment to take a look at his face that you realize it, what is going on; you are being the center of attention, the little show everyone stopped their current task to sit and watch, your every word carefully awaited by your unwanted audience.
You sigh softly, taking a moment to step back from the situation. “Now leave me alone before we embarrass ourselves further or before I tell you things I don’t really mean just because I’m angry and don’t wanna talk to you” you hiss softly before leaving Poe in the middle of the busy room where he watches you walk away, helplessly standing there.
When he looks around him, most people turn away and avert their gazes to pretend they haven’t witnessed anything, and Poe is well too aware of the tension still lingering in the air even as you exit the room.
When Jessika climbs down from her ladder after watching the scene from her cockpit, BB-8 rolls over to her and chirps sadly, having observed yours and Poe’s argument from afar just like most of the hangar after his master went running after you. She kneels down to the droid’s level, giving him a sympathetic smile.
“That’s gonna be fine Beebs, they always end up figuring it out somehow” she affirms as the droid’s upper part sinks in distress accompanied by saddened beeps. Jessika can’t help but smile fondly at him and his obvious concern, at the fact that he quite literally acts like you are his parents.
—
A few hours have passed when Poe joins you again; you don't notice him at first, having made sure to get focused enough on your paperwork to forget about the whole situation and try to ease the frustration within you. It's only when you put your datapad down that you see him leaning against the door frame.
“You're so pretty when you're focused” he smiles gently when your eyes meet his figure, causing you to roll your eyes and reluctantly smile at his words despite your lingering frustration.
“I’m still mad at you,” you sigh softly as you try to hide your slight smirk, gaze darting back down to enter numbers into your datapad.
He acknowledges your feelings with a nod, his lips pressed together in a tight line. “I know.” he admits, stepping into the room. “That’s why I’m here” You look back up at him, taking a deep breath as you set your datapad aside; despite the fact that everything he did since you wrapped your mission up got on your nerves, deep down you only wish for this to situation to get figured out and eventually be behind the both of you. You join him in front of your desk, leaning against it.
“I knew what I was doing. I was handling it” you affirm before he even gets the chance to do so much as open his mouth.
He holds a hand up to slow you down. “I know,” he nods understandingly. “I shouldn’t have redirected the plan, I should have trusted you. I was just afraid things would go wrong considering how it was all starting to go down so quickly” he explains. “I know I could have fucked it all up, everything you put in place so the mission could go right” you slightly tilt your head to the side in agreement.
“And I know my move was probably a lot more dangerous than the plan you had in mind to make everything right but you know I would never put you or our teams in danger, only myself” he declares with a concerned nod, causing your expression to soften. “You, never. I would never risk it, no matter what” there’s a soft frown over his face as his eyes flicker with sincerity, his confession making your heart ache as it hangs in the air before he talks again. “And I never doubted your ability to command a mission.”
You nod with a heavy sigh, acknowledging his apology. “I should apologize too. I shouldn't have lashed out on you like that either.” you admit and nod sheepishly, reflecting on your impulsive behavior. “I really wanted this mission to go right”
“For what it’s worth,” he starts with a small smile, trying to dissimulate a bigger one. “I talked about it with Leia and she thinks you did pretty good” his declaration doesn’t fail to draw an appreciative smile from you, one that makes him mirror your action. “And she thinks we would work great together”
“And I agree,” you reply, finally feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as the tension between you begins to dissipate. “We do make a good team.”
Poe’s smile widens, relieved to see you loosen up a bit. “Yeah, we do” he agrees with a small huff, stepping closer to you. “I just hate seeing you so worked up.”
You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “I hate getting worked up,” you scoff.
“I’ll try to think about it twice next time,” Poe promises, reaching out to gently take your hand in his. “I don’t want to step on your toes or make you feel like I don’t trust you or your judgment.”
Your fingers intertwine with his, the warmth of his touch calming you further. “Well I’ll try not to snap at you,” you promise in return, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze as you let your head rest against his chest with a small, barely audible sigh. “Especially not in front of everyone,” you mutter, earning an amused chuckle from him. You melt into his touch as he leans to press a gentle kiss over your forehead, his hand that is not holding yours coming to wrap around you.
It is only after you pull away from his embrace and leave a chaste kiss to his lips that the corner of your eye notices a sort of spy in the corner of the door frame.
“What’s he doing here”
Poe frowns before he turns around, huffing out a laugh when he notices BB-8 peeking out the door. “How long have you been here?” he jokingly scolds his droid that fully reveals himself now that he has been caught. “You know he doesn’t like when we fight” he softly sighs turning back to you, a mix of amusement and concern in his eyes before he looks at BB rolling over the both of you.
You shake your head, unable to suppress your smile at BB-8’s presence. “Very sweet of him to be looking out for us,” you start, reaching out to pat the droid’s dome affectionately. “But maybe he should learn not to eavesdrop.”
BB-8 chirps playfully, obviously pleased with the attention, seemingly eager to be a part of the reconciliation.
Poe chuckles, kneeling down to scratch behind BB-8’s sensor with a fond smile. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll work on that,” he says before glancing back at you with a soft smile. “He's our kid, he’s been worried sick about us, weren't you?” he turns to BB, who's beeping frantically in agreement.
You glance at him, then back at Poe, a softness settling in your chest at the sight of them together, your little family. “Our first kid, yeah” you smile softly, heart fluttering inside your chest.
“First? Meaning there's gonna be more?” Poe asks with a playful smile, getting back on his feet. He raises his eyebrows as he awaits your response, and you both laugh at the sudden change of atmosphere as Poe wraps a hand around you before pressing a kiss to your temple.
You huff out a laugh at his quick jump to conclusion, “I don't know, you're a pretty good dad to this one,” you shrug.
“A couple hours ago I was dead to you and now we're talking having kids” he laughs into your hair, a teasing tone in his voice.
“You weren’t even close to being dead to me, you’re so dramatic Poe” you declare with a small scoff, poking his chest lightly. “That’s the reason Beebs loves you so much” you tease, making him huff out a laugh. “I’d say we should focus on surviving one parenting experience first,” you chuckle looking down at BB-8, nudging Poe playfully. “But who knows what the future holds?”
Poe grins, his eyes sparkling with excitement as his arm grasps tighter around his hold on you. “As long as I have you by my side, I'm up for anything babe.”
—
reblogs and feedback are extremely (I cannot stress this enough) appreciated!!
star wars masterlist: @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift @whatthefishh @dameronshandholder @campingwiththecharmings @mintgreen24 @spider-starry @jakecockley @cocodiem @spxctorsslxt @friedwings @luxisluxurious @stvnnie @dowbastan @il0vebeingdelulu @hammerhead96 @unear7hly
#poe dameron#poe dameron x reader#poe dameron fanfiction#poe dameron imagine#poe dameron fic#poe dameron x you#poe dameron x y/n#poe dameron fanfic#poe dameron fluff#star wars#oscar isaac#oscar isaac characters#poe dameron angst
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CHAPTER 7: TOO YOUNG TO GROW WINGS
ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader
He needed to learn how to stop being so goddamn obsessive. He’d work on it later, maybe. He’d try not to speak curses into existence from the way he felt about you.
At the moment, he wants to make this good for you. Something like love.
ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: explicit content (18+ mdni) , unprotected sex, drunk sex, face sitting, blowjobs, cum eating (lol) lots and LOTS of angst, gore, blood, graphic descriptions of injuries, bullying, satoru being......... himself
ੈ✩ wc: 8.8k
ੈ✩ a/n: i wasnt gonna post this but then i was like well. i start a new job on monday so who knows if i'll be able to keep up the weekly update thing. this is also prob my fav chapter so i couldn't hold back OOPS enjoy the yaoi btw <3 title from angel by omar apollo
playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist
April, 2009
Jujutsu Technical College looks lovely in the springtime—the golden light hits the room in a specific way that makes your body warm. You’re calm, nearly dozing off until three people barge into the classroom, taking up as much space as they can. When you open your eyes, you see Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko smiling at you as they take their seats.
The boys had convinced you to attend (with the help of Shoko) after informing you there was a generous stipend included with your education. Despite the scholarship you’d gotten from the college you’d meant to attend, they had easily persuaded you. You hadn’t had friends you were so close with before, after all.
“Suguru. Switch with her.”
“Huh?”
“Just do it. I want her to sit next to me.”
You lift your head, realizing that Satoru is talking about you. Suguru laughs nonchalantly and stands up to switch with you, and you move to replace him when you notice Satoru’s baby blues searing into your skin. He grins at you brightly as you roll your eyes.
It’s been like this for weeks – Satoru possessing you, claiming you, even though you never ask for it. Truthfully, it pools your stomach with ardor. You’ve never felt as wanted as you do when you were within a close radius of him.
It dwindles eventually when you realize that the boys’ strength is so far beyond yours. In combat, they’re flawless, beautiful in their movements as they spar. You’re happier to watch than join—Shoko thinks the same, often rolling her eyes every time the two of you are assigned to practice hauling cursed energy for the sake of fighting. It’s nice when you can get her alone, studying healing techniques and watching her reversed curse technique grow.
Sometimes, you don’t even know why you’re here. Shoko is talented and you aren’t. You’re useful enough for superficial wounds, but you can’t do a reversed cursed technique. You doubt you could even heal something of a higher caliber than what you’re used to. You fear the prospect of this revelation on a mission that you know Yaga will eventually send you on.
“Do they ever fight over you?” Shoko asks over a cigarette.
“Wh-what?”
“You know,” she drawls, smiling. “Satoru’s such a brat. Suguru is more open when you’re around. They’ve gotta be possessive, right?”
You shrug. You don’t know the extent of what she knows, but you can assume from the boys’ behavior that it was written all over their faces. Satoru’s hand on your waist, Suguru’s point to tower over you. Unspoken proximity wars between them with you in the middle.
“I don’t know about that. They’re overprotective for sure,” you admit, taking a slow drag of her cigarette when she offers.
“Twigs! Not you, too!” Satoru bellows. “Don’t give my girl your cancer sticks, Ieiri!”
Shoko laughs at that, grinning with the cigarette in between her teeth as you fold your hands into your lap.
My girl.
Satoru hovers over you and holds out his hands. Curiously, you take it, which you regret immediately when he pulls your body and hauls you over his shoulder. You thrash a bit as he laughs until you’re stumbling onto the grass. When Suguru throws a staff in your direction, you catch it reflexively.
“Ready?”
You roll your eyes. You’d gotten better at sparring, though you still choose to hang back and concern yourself with areas of Shoko’s expertise. She had become a mentor to you despite being a peer. Meanwhile, the boys had been trying to get you to practice combat, thinking you would do well with a cursed weapon.
You remember the first time you had tried to fight, watching Satoru and Suguru wrestle in the grass shortly after. Their raspy grunts, the skin of their waists underneath ridden-up shirts. The memory makes you flush.
“Yes,” you sigh.
You focus on Satoru’s eyes, saturated like a lightning strike. You were rather well-versed in the language of his body – you think that your intuition often matched Satoru’s rather equally. He was still much taller and larger than you, but you exceeded in your efforts to dodge. He didn’t often bother with hand-to-hand combat much anyway, much more focused on perfecting his inherent techniques.
You gasp when he decides to close the distance between you. The touch of his fingers on your skin is a jolt to the senses as his legs sweep you when you’re too occupied with dodging. You hit the ground with a thud, groaning.
“Sorry, babe,” he chuckles, leaning down to take your hand. When he does, you pull him backward so that he tumbles.
“Hey!”
“Payback,” you shrug. You maintain a fighting stance once again, staff in hand.
Suguru often took you more seriously, offering to teach you martial arts when Satoru was off on solo missions. You breathe heavily as Satoru takes his first swing, which you dodge by a hair.
Focused, you move with the grace of a ballet dancer, halting his movements with your staff the way Suguru had taught you. When you kick a leg high in the air, Satoru catches you by the ankle just for you to fall again. This time, you’re sure you’re bruised.
“There’s still time for you to give up,” he teases.
You groan in irritation, rising to your feet and walking closer to him. He smiles, enjoying seeing you pissed off and breathing so hard. He’s so wrapped up in looking at you that his senses are hit with whiplash – your fist gets through his Infinity easily and socks him square on the jaw.
“You little–”
“Why didn’t you have your Infinity on?” you exasperate, but he’s already pushing you to the ground and struggling with you the way you used to when you were children.
“I’m soooo gonna get you for that–”
You end up kicking him again, this time in the ribs as he groans. When you pin his wrists above his head, he merely stares at you with wild eyes and heaving breaths. His face is red and cherubic, and when he squirms, you squeeze his waist in between your thighs.
You lean down close to his face, your breath tickling his ear.
“I win,” you whisper. You flick him on the forehead and he flinches. You wonder again why he’s letting you touch him like this.
“Letting you pin me down isn’t me letting you win, sweetheart,” he rasps lowly, only for you to hear. He rolls his hips slightly and it makes your eyes widen, much to his satisfaction. You frown and crawl away from him just in time to hear Shoko beckoning you.
“Lab time!” she calls after you. Without a second look at Satoru, you follow her inside.
Satoru is lying on Suguru’s stomach, frowning because it isn’t as soft as yours.
He’s also without entertainment since Suguru has been hogging his DS for the better part of an hour, which Satoru had only let him do because he claimed he wanted to take a nap. But, as per usual, he can’t sleep. He’s still roused from sparring with you, slightly sweaty still from the warmth and the mustiness of the dorm room, and his cock is getting hard again just from thinking about you on top of him.
“Fuck,” Suguru swears under his breath, caught up in a game of Pokemon Emerald.
Satoru lifts his head to scoot his body higher, chin resting on Suguru’s forearm to peek at his progress.
“You’re doing terribly.”
“I know that, thanks,” Suguru groans. “I have like, two backup Pokemon left and they’re both level 30.”
“Do you use the same technique with your curses?” Satoru teases. Suguru makes another agitated noise again in response.
“You should’ve brought your Game Cube from home.”
Satoru shrugs, sighing as he sits up. He snatches his DS out of Suguru’s hands, interrupting the boy’s protest with a wet kiss to the mouth. Suguru kisses back immediately, tongue peeking into Satoru’s mouth before he pulls away.
“You haven’t kissed me in months,” he chuckles. Satoru shrugs.
“Maybe you haven’t kissed me in months.”
“I would’ve thought you’d count it as cheating.”
Satoru is quiet for a moment, rubbing Suguru’s jawline with his fingers gently. He’s been rather gluttonous lately, and he thinks Suguru is starting to catch on. He’s been clingier to the both of you, obnoxiously so, acting more of a nuisance to you specifically for the sake of attention. His heart is aflame whenever he sees you interact with Suguru in ways that are both good and bad, but he doesn’t prefer to dwell on it for very long before he nearly forces you to give him attention.
“Having withdrawals?”
“Huh?”
“She’ll be back soon,” Suguru laughs cruelly. “Whenever she’s gone for a bit, you act like you’re fucking dying.”
“No, I don’t,” Satoru frowns. But he knows he’s lying.
“Don’t mope. C’mere.”
Suguru sighs, seemingly out of pity. He grabs Satoru by the face and sticks his tongue in his mouth – a rough kiss out of spite, out of unbridled passion. He’d dreamt about Satoru and you for weeks, always sneaking glances.
He’d considered taking both of you months before when you and Satoru and Shoko threw him an impromptu surprise birthday party despite his refusal. He had seen you tipsy, squirming in Satoru’s lap while Utahime set up karaoke on the television, and decided he’d let you come to him when you wanted to. You were still a shy thing even after New Year’s, never asking again for his touch.
Satoru groans, palming his dick over his slacks as he leans back. He could feel his cock leaking in his boxers already just from the roughness of Suguru’s knuckles grazing his skin. There was a manic buzz in his head, thrilled by the slight power imbalance he was allowing.
Suguru hadn’t touched him since before he started seeing you, and even then, it was mostly rudimentary teenage lust. Jerking off to magazines together. Seeing how much they could take in their mouths before gagging like it was a competition.
“Fuck,” Satoru grunts, feeling Suguru’s tongue on his clavicle.
“You thinking about her?”
“Yeah,” he rasps.
Suguru chuckles darkly, biting harder at the bone. “She was so hot today. I taught her those moves, y’know.”
Satoru makes a mumbled nose, eyes fluttering shut as Suguru palms him. He unbuttons his slacks to reveal the snowy trail of hair above his pubic bone, Satoru’s cock flushed and weeping as Suguru holds it.
“Want me to fuck you?”
“Use your mouth,” Satoru pants. He knots a fist in Suguru’s dark hair. “Want it like this.”
He hisses when he feels Suguru’s mouth. His jaw slackens at the feeling, gasping for air when Suguru hollows his cheeks to suck tightly. Satoru shoves him down further.
His body feels tight when Suguru motions a finger towards his hole, pausing to spit on his fingers beforehand. With two fingers stretching him open, Satoru pants and gasps. His thighs twitch, hips rolling upward into Suguru’s mouth like it was a cunt.
Your face flashes in Satoru’s mind and it makes his insides careen. Brain like pulped fruit. He opens his eyes to see Suguru’s, narrowed and golden and taunting. It’s similar to the way you look at him, sometimes.
The fist in Suguru’s hair tightens now, knuckles white. Satoru grunts brutishly, overwhelmed by the stimulation in his hole in tandem with Suguru’s tongue pressing on the underside of his cock.
“Fuck, gonna cum–”
Suguru moans, jaw aching only slightly. Satoru could feel his dick inside Suguru’s mouth, heat building up until he spills onto the boy’s tongue. His head falls back. Breathing like he’d just run a marathon.
“You need a better appetite. Shit tastes like battery acid.”
“Doesn’t all cum taste like that?” Satoru frowns. His hand is still in Suguru’s hair.
“You tell me.” Suguru kisses him, licking the inside of Satoru’s molars. His lips move against Satoru’s mouth slowly, listless so he can take himself. When he pulls away, Satoru wipes the slick off his mouth, plump and bitten.
“You’re exaggerating.”
May, 2009
The sky is oddly grey this afternoon despite the pleasant morning. Yamanashi prefecture is as beautiful as ever with cherry blossoms blooming, but as you approach the cursed site, you continue to feel a chill down your spine.
It’s your first real mission. One that Yaga had at least approved you for after you had nailed your physical assessments, able to imbue enough cursed energy into a katana to swing around without slicing yourself. Still, you were meant to act as backup for Suguru, which Satoru hated.
“Why don’t we just both go with her?” he had wailed to Yaga days before, to which Yaga grunted in dismissal.
“You have a solo mission.”
“But–”
“That’ll be the end of it, Satoru.”
Admittedly, you do wish he was here. Suguru is a comforting presence, though, calmer in demeanor but much less talkative than what you’re used to. You walk with him through overgrown grass and lengthy vines.
“What kind of curse are we supposed to find?” you question out loud.
Suguru shrugs. “It’s difficult to tell exactly, but I’m assuming the cursed spirits roaming around here will be, er, women-shaped? Maybe. It should be Grade 2 at most."
“What do you mean, women? What happened here?”
“You don’t know? This place is super haunted.”
“So we’re ghost-hunting.”
“Ghost exorcising,” Suguru grins. “There used to be gold mines here in the 16th century owned by the Takeda Clan. They also ran brothels for the miners. After the Battle of Nagashino, the clan had to give up the land, but not before they killed all the prostitutes to keep them from spreading information about the gold mines.”
“H-how did they kill them?”
“The miners had the women dance at a farewell party, then they hacked the vines that kept up the bridge they were on. They fell into the waterfall.”
“That’s horrible,” you frown. Foreboding swells in your chest.
You can’t sense any cursed energy around you other than Suguru’s. You’re too busy ruminating to watch your step, accidentally tripping over a thick root. You fall forward into Suguru’s arms.
“You okay?” he croons. His face is inches from yours and you forget how to breathe.
“Y-yes. Sorry.” As you untangle yourself from him, your body jolts. You gasp when you hear the hint of a wretched, bloodcurdling scream in the far distance that makes your blood run cold. It isn’t very loud, but it almost sounds muffled, like someone was screaming from another room.
“What? What is it?”
“Did you not hear that?” you whisper.
Suguru frowns at you in confusion, his expression seemingly genuine. You blink, trying to shake off the horrible feeling in your body.
“I think I just heard something. It sounded like a scream.”
Suguru waits, prompting you to elaborate. The forest seems darker now despite it being midday, the curl of the trees billowing in a way that feels uncanny. A girl-shaped forest.
“Maybe we should split up.”
“Absolutely not,” Suguru protests, his mouth set in a firm line. You hold his hand in yours, stroking it gently with your thumb.
“Suguru, you can’t expect to protect me the entire time. I need to learn how to handle things on my own–”
An inhuman gurgle rumbles from behind you. The curse looks similar to a reptile, yet human-like with webbed hands and sharp incisors slick with algae. The stench of mud is apparent in the air now. It drools green sludge before it bows.
You stand in shock, unsure of what to do as you lock eyes with Suguru. Warily, you draw your sword, and the curse’s eyes roll back in agitation as it lets out another gurgle.
“Oh, shit–”
You dodge a projectile of slime, but it crawls towards you at a faster pace than you expect. A slice of your katana dismembers one of its arms, but it easily grows back. Within seconds, a giant curse rises from the ground and swallows it up, teeth mashing on gooey flesh in a way that makes you want to hurl. Suguru’s ringworm curse is dismissed once the riverbank is cleared.
“What was that about not needing me to protect you?” Suguru sneers.
“I still mean it,” you exasperate, heart hammering out of your chest. “You barely gave me time.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll let you have the next one, I swear.”
He smiles genuinely. Satoru must’ve gotten to him – he’s not nearly as neurotic as Satoru in that way, but he wouldn’t be able to stand it if you got hurt. It was less of a possessiveness thing and more of a selflessness thing. Suguru had always been the one to be reliable. He was also more perceptive than Satoru in the way that he could practically feel the tightness of the leash he held on you.
If you were going to be something in the Jujutsu world, you wouldn’t be held back. Suguru thought you could be something ever since he saw you.
You continue to walk with him, knuckles brushing as the air turns thick. Suguru thinks that maybe you’re sulking in his periphery, so he pokes your cheek.
“Yes?”
“You’re awfully quiet.”
“Just thinking,” you mutter.
The katana feels heavy on your back. You had never thought of yourself as a particularly strong person, growing up to be obedient. A maid’s daughter. Hands a little rough from housework and the dirt of the Earth when you were wild, once.
“Let me walk around in that little brain of yours,” Suguru murmurs, always charming.
You pause, swallowing. You realize you have never spoken your insecurities out loud. When you were on the brink of it, it would always be during petty arguments with Satoru, who had a way of shutting you down dismissively. He was always a bit of a control freak, even with you.
“Do you think I’m weak?” Your voice sounds almost frail.
“Of course not. I think you’re very talented, actually,” Suguru says. “Satoru and I– we just care a lot.”
“I’m not sure if talented would be the word. It’s not like he thinks so, either.”
“He does. He just doesn’t know how to express his feelings.”
There seems to be something lingering in his tone that gnaws at you. The way he sighs. You decide not to pry, attempting to steer the conversation away from Satoru altogether.
You hear a wail again. Something in the shape of a girlish scream but only the echo of it. Suguru gives you that confused look at him and you aren’t sure if he’s just messing with you at this point. He touches your hand again and the motion makes you wince.
“What’s wrong?” He looks genuinely worried now as he looks at you, holding a hand to your jaw. That alone is mildly unnerving for some reason, even though you think that in any other environment, you’d welcome it. You place your hand over his palm.
“Do you really not hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“That woman screaming!” you hiss.
“Are you sure it isn’t some wild animal?”
You blink at him blankly.
“You don’t hear it.”
When he shakes his head, you hear it again. You begin to walk towards the source of it while Suguru stalks behind you, but you stop him.
“Maybe I should handle this.”
He grimaces, clearly unhappy. You raise your brows, challenging him. Suguru wants to hold you back but he knows he shouldn’t.
“Hey, another fucking– river monster could show up, and you’d be able to handle it. Maybe this is something that only I can see or hear. We’ll be too conspicuous with both of our cursed energy.”
He says your name with a hint of desperation and discipline, but you hold your gaze firmly.
“Okay,” Suguru sighs. “But if anything goes wrong, just yell for me, okay?”
You nod.
The tall grass tickles your legs as you move, which makes you thankful you decided to wear trousers instead of your usual skirt for the mission. Your hand grips the strap of your sword bag with anxiety. As you get closer, it’s as if the air is permeated with a smell that you can only describe as being in between sex and blood.
The scream you hear is louder now. You aren’t sure if it’s truly a hallucination, but it seems like the forest laughs back at you after. If you were a smarter person, perhaps you’d return to your partner. But you also assume that if you were to do that, you’d be a weaker person.
You walk over a wooden bridge that feels like it’s holding on by the barest thread. The creaking of the bridge beneath your weight adds to the unease that has settled in your gut. Every step forward feels like a gamble, a test of your bravery. The forest seems to close in around you, the trees whispering secrets you can't quite decipher.
A scream rips through the air and this time, against your better judgment, you follow it.
It’s punctuated with sobs and whimpers, getting louder and louder as you walk along the path. Cursed energy flickers in the shape of a girl. When you get closer, you see her.
A girl is sitting in a fetal position behind a tree, clutching her shoulder as she wails in agony. Her long black hair is matted and damp. She doesn’t seem to notice you yet, so you swiftly move to hide yourself between shrubbery to get a better look.
“P-p-please… help me…” she sobs. You choke up at the sight of her torn dress, hands and shoulder crimson with blood. She looks younger than you – no older than fifteen.
You grasp the strap of your sword bag tightly and cautiously as you walk towards her. Her eyes widen when she sees you. You aren’t sure if it’s a look of relief or fear.
“Hi there,” you say with a tremor in your voice. “What’s your name?”
“Akane,” the girl whimpers. Her face is pale with bruised lips.
“Akane. Are you lost? How did you get this injury?” You crouch down to meet her at eye level.
“Th-there was a man… I was trying to run away from him… but I’m in t-too much pain to keep going,” she breathes. “Please help me.”
You furrow your brows. You’re surprised that there was anyone in this forest besides those grotesque cursed spirits considering how abandoned and desolate the place was. The girl must’ve run far.
“Where are you from, Akane?”
“Tabayama.”
“That’s not too far from here,” you smile softly. “Let me heal you and my friend and I can get you back home, okay?”
You reach for her arm but she flinches and looks at you with unease.
“It’s okay,” you reassure her. “I’m a healer, see?”
Your cursed energy waxes and wanes within your palm like a luminous mist. You hover it over a superficial cut on your hand that you’d gotten from dealing with thorns earlier and the skin patches up like new. Akane watches in awe.
“I want to help you. Is it okay if I touch you?”
She nods her head apprehensively. You unwrap the saturated cloth from her shoulder, cringing at the sight of the gore and blood. You can’t quite envision the type of violence she’d just been through from the vagueness of her words, but you don’t want to make the poor girl explain in the midst of her trauma.
It’s more effort than what you’re used to – the wound is so deep that you fear that you’ll overexert yourself. You’d spent enough time in the lab with Shoko to improve your technique, but this time, it seems as if everything you’re doing isn’t enough. The skin on the girl’s shoulder is healing very slowly, and when you think that her condition is improving, another area of her body seems to bleed out.
“Maybe I should get my friend to help. He could take us to a hospital.”
“He?”
You look up to see Akane’s eyes grow cold. Almost lifeless, as if she’s looking through you. You hear the visceral sound of a limb breaking, the squelch of her organs. It seems as though her face is transforming right in front of your eyes, but it feels like an illusion – the way her skin looks decayed, the way her teeth grow sharper.
Akane – or what was Akane – cackles cruelly. Her cursed energy is overwhelming now, suffocating you. There’s a warbled cry that falls from her mouth.
“I’ll kill him.”
This is not a fucking Grade 2 curse.
You immediately get to your feet and swing your katana, but the curse blocks your attack easily. She’s also growing exponentially, no longer the size of a teenage girl and more like the river monster you’d seen earlier. She grabs you by the ankle, tripping you. A hack to the wrist with your katana makes the creature scream even more. You watch in horror as thick, black blood seeps out.
You yell Suguru’s name at the top of your lungs.
You see the Rainbow Dragon first, flying through the forest around you and the curse, but the nails on her other hand are strong enough to slice through the dragon’s hide. When you turn to lock eyes with Suguru, the curse lets out something in between a sob and a scream, shrill in your ears.
It seems as though she forgets you entirely, running head-first towards Suguru.
“I’ll… kill…. youuuuuuu!”
“No!” you screech, pulling her backward by the leg with all the strength you can muster. You slash the curse’s skin with your katana, making her wail, but she pins you down in retaliation with cuts to your arm from its sharp nails.
You hiss at the pain. You notice that her hair has transformed into its own entity, tentacle-like and razor-sharp as it slices through one of Suguru’s hound-like curses. She directs her attention back at him and aims for his neck, but you hold down a bloody hand onto her back as your hand pulls one of her sharp hairs back.
You cry out at the wound it makes in your hand, but your other stays pressed to the slimy flesh of her body. Your cursed energy ignites something unfamiliar in your body, something painful, but you imbue it into your touch with all you have.
She’s screaming. Or maybe you are. You can’t tell anymore – your head is dulling from expending more cursed energy than you ever have. It’s all dissonant to you. A horrific cacophony. You feel blood drip from your nose.
The curse’s flesh is rotting. As if the wounds she had when she appeared as a human were only rapidly progressing into decay, cells rupturing, body degenerating the harder you push.
It’s like she turns to mush. The corpse of the curse is barely recognizable anymore, just a puddle of chunky purplish-black blood.
You breathe heavily, looking up to see Suguru staring at you in shock. You try to give him a weak smile, but you don’t feel anything other than sick. Or maybe it’s numbness, at least for a few seconds as the forest is quiet again.
You double over and vomit. Your vision blacks out.
As a surprise to no one, Gojo Satoru is fucking livid.
He’s about to open his mouth but stops himself when Suguru gives him a look of disdain. There’s no one to yell at, except maybe Yaga, because why the fuck would he put you on a mission that could potentially involve a Special Grade?
“She’s fine,” Suguru affirms.
Satoru merely exhales through his nostrils, curling his hands into fists as he slumps down on the bench next to Suguru. He can’t help but envision your corpse, his brain reeling a horrific supercut of all the ways you could’ve been disfigured, maimed, bruised. Changed.
He realizes that the protectiveness over you he feels has turned into something ugly now that he knows you’re in the infirmary, something akin to fear, which is foreign to him.
It sinks into him like teeth down to the marrow, parasitic. He thinks of a faceless curse that he wants to tear apart with his bare hands. Satoru had tried to get over the desire to keep you in a cage, to keep you so unbearably close to him out of his own selfishness, but the feeling came back. He doesn’t know where to keep it other than lodged in his chest like a bullet.
“Did you absorb it, Suguru? Because I might need you to summon it later so I can get my fucking hands on it myself,” Satoru says, his voice low and seething through gritted teeth.
“No,” Suguru sighs.
Satord nods dumbly. Silence ensues.
“She killed it herself.”
You have dreams while you’re passed out. The curse you killed transforms its face from its teenage girl form and into others. You see Shoko, Suguru, Satoru. Everyone you’ve ever known. And when the skin of its face starts to rot the same way it did when you used your technique on it, you end up staring at yourself.
When you wake, it’s slow. The fluorescents in the infirmary don’t help. From outside of the room, you can hear hushed voices.
When you attempt to lift your body off the bed, you see Shoko sleeping in a chair next to you. Your bones ache, your skin stinging with the ghost of a wound. The cut on your palm from being slashed by the curse is a scar now.
You drop your head again, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to rest more. It’s too fucking bright in this room. Your breathing stills when you hear the door creak open.
“For fuck’s sake,” a voice bristles.
You hear another whispering Shoko’s name. Waking her, you assume.
“How is she doing?”
“She’s okay,” Shoko yawns. “Just sleeping. Her wounds were kind of deep, but I took care of it.”
A hand caresses your jaw gently, fingers stroking through your scalp. Your eyes blink open slowly to see Satoru grimacing above you. From the way the overhead light illuminates the back of his head, you think he almost looks like an angel. A makeshift halo shining on moonlit hair.
You notice the way he holds his fist tightly and the iciness of his gaze. It’s a fraction of rage, which makes you feel nauseous again. You’d seen that look on his face before, during the night of Shoko’s party. You wonder now, vaguely, what he looks like when he kills.
“Hey,” you mumble weakly.
“Hey,” he scoffs. “Wanna tell me what the fuck happened?”
“Satoru, let her be–”
“It’s okay,” you interrupt. You rise, wincing at the soreness of your muscles. “Um. I… killed the curse.”
“So I’ve been told,” Satoru deadpans. His jaw is tense, but his eyes soften. He looks up, flickering his gaze between Shoko and Suguru.
Shoko clears her throat. “She used her technique. The healing part of it is based on cell regeneration. Apparently, it can also be used… the opposite way. It must've been activated by adrenaline, and then it was too much. Passed out from exhaustion.”
“How is that possible?”
“Well, our technique is like a muscle, right? And she didn’t use hers very rigorously until now, so…”
“Right,” Satoru sighs, his voice clipped.
“I need a smoke,” Shoko rasps. “Do you need anything, baby?”
You smile weakly, shaking your head.
You can’t help but feel guilt snaking its way into your body. Even though you had exorcised a curse, your first actual achievement in Jujutsu sorcery, the bloodshed you’d experienced feels fruitless. You don’t feel very powerful at all, only monstrous.
It’s difficult to gauge what Satoru is thinking. He’s clearly upset about the fact that you got hurt, but you wonder if there’s more. If he resents you pulling a stunt like that and nearly killing yourself in the process—because what would you be if not his? Are you still his with bloodstained hands? Would he like you better now that you could prove to be strong?
It didn’t matter. He would always be stronger.
You hate the tension in the air. You can’t bear it. Maybe they’ll disperse once you get on your feet. There wasn’t anything left to do with your treatment since Shoko had tired herself with your wounds.
When you swing a leg over the cot and attempt to sit up straight, an invisible wall stops you. You glare at Satoru holding his hand out, palm outstretched inches away from your chest.
“No,” he snaps.
“Don’t do that,” you grumble. “I’m fine.”
He laughs but there’s no amusement in his tone. His eyes are cold again. Pools of ice.
“Right. You’re in fucking pristine shape.”
“Satoru,” Suguru warns.
“I– I can walk–”
“No,” Satoru repeats. “You’re hurt. Stop it.”
You look between Satoru’s hard gaze and Suguru’s frown and roll your eyes. You’re so tired, and overwhelmed with pain that transcends the physical kind. You can’t even put a name to it, the amount of emotions spilling out of you as you look at the two of them with mild desperation. You want to sleep for another twelve hours.
Irritation flares behind your face. You aren’t sure if you want to scream or cry for catharsis, but you stay quiet, trembling.
“I want to be in my bed,” you mutter.
Satoru lets out a breath as if he’s been holding it for a while. Gently, he touches the nape of your neck, Infinity down. Laces his fingers in your hair in a sort of compromise. He moves his arm underneath your back with the other under your knees and lifts you, kicking off the blankets.
You curl into him, head on his chest. It made it hard for Satoru to breathe, for some reason, like something was stealing the air from his lungs. He nods to Suguru as a voiceless confirmation, watching his cursed energy flare. I’ll take it from here.
When he gets you into your room, Satoru releases you, placing you gingerly on the floor. Part of him wants to shake you by the shoulders, have you slap him across the face for reasons unknown to him. Something, anything other than the despondence of your limp figure. He can’t stand it.
“Satoru,” you whisper. “I’m sorr–”
“Don’t,” he strains. “Do you even know why you’re apologizing? Or is it just second nature to you?”
You say nothing.
He strips off your uniform, torn and battered. Still reeking of copper blood, the stench all too familiar, but not on you.
“I’m sorry for being mean. I was just worried,” he says. “I’m… proud of you.”
“Proud?” You look at him, dazed, as if this is the last thing you expect him to say.
He nods curtly, a sad smile on his face. “I always knew you had it in you.”
He picks you up again despite your futile protest, walking you to the attached bathroom. After turning on the faucet, he sits next to you, hand stroking your thigh gently in silence. He doesn’t look at you. He’s not sure if he can.
“C’mon. Up.” He taps your thigh once.
You’re still dizzy as you enter the bath, sighing at the warmth of the water. As you sink into the bath, a sense of relief washes over you, momentarily easing the tension in your body. A much-needed respite.
You feel Satoru trail his fingers around your collarbone, rising to feel your pulse. The rhythm seems to calm him as he soothes his palm over your shoulders and back. His touch is less urgent than it usually is.
He squeezes shampoo in your hair and threads his fingers through it, scratching your scalp gently, untangling the mess of you. He saturates a washcloth with soap, rubbing small circles over your limbs, lifting you like you’re a doll. It was funny—he had never had to take care of anyone other than himself before, but at the moment, he’s indulged in the small hums of pleasure you make, reveling in your comfort. Your trust.
He likes taking care of you. It makes him feel like he has a sense of control. He doesn’t want to indulge too far into it, knowing it’ll smolder a nasty part of him in some way. But the steam of the hot water makes his cheeks ruddy, and when you open your eyes at the feeling of his hand on your jaw, he can’t help but want to keep you.
Satoru turns your face toward him, cupping your chin as he leans in to kiss you. Your mouth opens like a flower blooming, ready for him like always. He tries not to be rough despite the moan you tease out of him. Your skin is soft after he bathes you. His hands know carnage, but they also know you.
You break apart, looking at each other for a few seconds before he kisses you again. He pecks your mouth, nose, and cheeks, leaving you to scrunch your nose by the end. Laughing, he rinses your hair.
“Feel better?” he asks lightly. You nod.
“C’mon, baby. You’re gonna get all pruney in there.”
You’re perfectly capable of drying yourself off and putting on clothes, but Satoru seems eager to do it for you, so you stay limp in his arms. He’s being oddly affectionate as he babies you, which he never does. It’s usually the other way around.
With his hands on your waist, a dangerous thought flits through Satoru’s mind, but it dissipates when he fixes your hair to see you fresh-faced. You look young, innocent. Untouched by violence like he had known you before.
He takes you to the bed, where, despite the size of it, he manages to slot his body next to yours so he can curl into you. Head on your chest to listen to the murmur of your heartbeat.
You stay like this for a while, listening to each others’ breaths. You’re on the brink of sleep when you think you feel tears on your chest. Dampness on your cotton shirt, but only a little. Satoru exhales heavily, squeezing the meat of your side. You’re feeling a little too warm from the proximity but don’t have the heart to untangle yourself. You close your eyes.
“I love you.”
You aren’t sure if it’s a whisper in your dreams or not.
June, 2002
You both had matching bruises. Green and yellowish like snot.
The summer was changing you and Satoru in a way that held gravity. Satoru’s body was growing more and more, handsome like the beautiful child he’d been when you first met him, and you were a purgatory. Something girlish. Something ghostly.
Your mother had reprimanded you last week for coming back with a bloody knee, scolding you for rough play. The expiration on your youth seemed to be ticking from the way she chastised you about your shared misbehavior with Satoru – you were meant to grow into something polite and womanly.
Satoru had scoffed at the notion when you told him. He liked that you weren’t obsequious to him like everyone else in his life who treated him like a little prince.
Unfortunately, you’d pave the road of your abjection all by yourself later on.
He still thought of you as the only person who understood him. He was your first friend, your only friend for a while, and you were his. You’d count stars with him. Catch fireflies and make wishes on them. Wear each other’s clothes before his growth spurt.
You’d clung to each other for years—it was difficult to tell which one of you was the parasite. Despite this, sometimes you think Satoru hates you. Sometimes he makes you cry, especially with how apathetic he can be. You blame his stoicism on his upbringing, but there are times that you feel like an afterthought, only exacerbated as he grows older and into something of worth.
At age twelve, it’s difficult for you to believe that you could be anything similar.
Your young ferocity gets minimized to meekness at school. There’s hair-pulling, harder than Satoru’s ever done to you. Stolen lunches. Spitballs to your back. Your face kissing pavement.
“What happened to you?” Satoru asks, narrowing his eyes at the sight of your split lip.
“I fell.”
He’s forceful when he drags you to him. He’s too tall for his age, towering over you with cold blue eyes staring down at you. You flinch when he touches your cheek with his hand.
“You’re lying,” he frowns.
“It’s fine,” you mumble.
He doesn’t pry after that, but he does force you to clean the cut with hydrogen peroxide, which is ironic considering how little he cares about his own cuts and bruises from his private training.
On the playground the next day, you’re targeted again, reaching desperately for your backpack that’s stolen straight from your hands. A kick to the shins has you scraping your palms when you try to ground yourself. Your hands sting as they bleed. You gasp when you feel another kick to the stomach, a cruel round of laughs taunting you.
But then, you hear them gasp. The sound of knuckles hitting bone.
“Touch her again and I’ll fucking kill you.”
Satoru lifts you up by the hand and holds you by the shoulders. He picks the debris out of your hair.
“C’mon, let’s go home,” he sighs. He ignores the tears on your cheeks. He’ll wipe them away later along with the dried blood in your palms.
You’ll shower in his bathroom, mind blank under the hot water. He’ll see your silhouette through the peek in the door, and his stomach will lurch in a new way. He won’t be able to look at you for a week after.
June, 2009
He comes to you at night a little drunk. You’re surprised Satoru didn’t warp this time – you’re used to seeing him in the blink of an eye right before you go to sleep just because he doesn’t want to sleep in his own room. Sleep is hardly a thing for him anyway – his insomnia has gotten a bit worse over the years, so he prefers to play on his Nintendo DS quietly as he strokes your hair.
“You actually knocked?”
He shrugs as he moves past you to flop his long body onto your twin bed. You look at him in question. He doesn’t answer, only gesturing for you.
“Come over here,” he slurs.
“Are you drunk?”
“Not–” he hiccups, “at all.”
“Satoru,” you berate.
“Okay, maybe I went a little crazy with the Dirty Shirleys. Needed a drink after the stupid fucking mission Yaga sent us on.”
“You shouldn’t be drinking this much. It’s a weekday.”
He mocks you and settles a hand over your waist. You notice the calluses on his hands, ironic considering he can never let anything touch him. But you can.
He sits you on his lap, rubbing your shoulders carefully. “How’s your night been?”
“Shoko made me watch Audition,” you frown.
“Oh. I love that one.”
“Of course you do,” you sigh, “Nothing scares you.”
You aren’t wrong. After assassination attempts and countless wretched curses thrown Satoru’s way, nothing could make him flinch anymore.
“You scare me,” he pouts, undressing himself. Always staking his claim on you in this way – he wouldn’t leave if you asked, and you know that you won’t.
“I highly doubt that.”
“You should yell at me more. It’s kind of a turn-on when you’re mad.”
You roll your eyes as you turn off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness if not for the light of the moon and the annoying brilliance of Satoru’s eyes. Even his hair seems to glow in the dark, head dipped in starlight.
As you lay on your side, you feel Satoru’s palm undulating your bare thigh, tickling you under the hem of your t-shirt. He breathes in the scent of your neck.
“You have goosebumps,” he mumbles against your hair. “Gonna get nightmares from the movie?”
“No.”
“I’ll protect you,” he giggles boyishly, body overheating with want.
He sucks on your neck, hand parting the plushness of your thighs. You keen at the feeling of his teeth and tongue, gasping at his large fingers sliding your panties to the side to prod your cunt.
“This is all I could think about today.”
“Yeah?” you whisper.
“Yeah,” he says, his voice rough. “Kept thinking about all those sounds you make. Kept thinking about your face.”
“You shouldn’t—ah—let yourself get so distracted on your missions.”
He laughs. “Whatever. Killed all those fuckers in less than ten minutes anyway.”
Satoru keeps you pressed to his chest, his other hand grasping your breast. You feel his dick hardening behind you as he plays with your cunt, fingers knuckle-deep inside you. It didn’t take him long to find your spot the way he had you memorized. Your eyes shut tightly as you moan. Stars knock around your head.
He turns your face toward his and licks at the seam of your lips, tongue roughly licking the inside of your mouth. Your body tingles at the sound of his groans. He holds you by the chin, hand slipping around your throat to hold you in place so he can take in every detail of your face.
You flush under his gaze, how his blown-out pupils outweighed the ocean blue. His pink mouth is parted and breathing out, zephyrs of maraschino cherry tickling your face.
You cry out when he pins you down, sinks his cock into your wetness. A wounded sound. It makes him shiver, makes him think about you on that dingy cot a month ago in the infirmary. Satoru was about ready to avenge you in any way he could, back then, even when you weren’t even half-dead. He’d reshape mountains. Drown the whole city of Tokyo with his bare hands.
In the way he holds you with bruising force, rutting into you like a devoted dog, he decides that he will be the only person to hurt you. The only one who should, knowing that even with his regrets and jagged ways of caring, no one else should lay a finger on you except him. He’d never hurt you in a violent way, unless his passion had counted. If devouring you counted, which it probably did, he would be content with his selfishness if it meant you were safe.
He needed to learn how to stop being so goddamn obsessive. He’d work on it later, maybe. He’d try not to speak curses into existence from the way he felt about you.
At the moment, he wants to make this good for you. Something like love.
“Made for me,” he whispers. “You were fucking made for me.”
“Yes,” you gasp.
He splits you open, spearing into your gut as he mumbles praises lowly into your ear. Your cunt pulses at the sound of his voice. He thrusts into you harshly, making blood rush to your head.
“You make me feel insane,” he grunts. “Used to think about you like this in high school. You were so fucking stubborn, refusing to give me attention.”
“You were a brat,” you flush. “Still are.”
“Your brat.”
“Mine,” you hum.
He groans at that. He’s so deep in you, drowning in syrupy velvet. He liked it when your body made him feel like this, like he was levitating. He wasn’t Gojo with you, always Satoru, always just a boy. He’d be content in this infinite spiral, swapping spit in between tongues and fucking into you until you cried. Your body is sacred. You made him forget himself when he needed to.
You like when he carves you out like this, your cunt a shrine for him at this point. You moan at the loss of him, watching through glassy eyes as he stumbles, fixing your body in between his knees.
“Wanna see my pretty girl’s face,” he groans. He’s annoyingly rough when he enters again, but you love it. He says your name like it’s a prayer.
Your head buzzes as he thrusts into you faster this time. His hair sticks to his face, tickling your cheek as he bites into your neck. Midnight vignettes blur your vision.
“Wish you’d let me have you earlier,” he pants.
“Fucking me for the past year wasn’t enough?”
He shakes his head. “Wish I lost it to you. I was thinking about you during it, too.”
“Satoru,” you whine.
He means it. He was already blunt as could be, but alcohol made him over-honest. He liked that his candor made you blush.
“Would you have let me fuck you?” he teases. “When we were fifteen?”
“No. You were even stupider then.”
“So mean to me,” he chuckles, rolling his hips more aggressively. He revels in watching you squirm. “I would’ve worshipped you.”
“No, you wouldn’t have,” you mumble, hiding your face in his chest. Nails cross-hatching the length of his back.
“I would’ve.” I will.
He kisses you open-mouthed like it’s a promise, pulling your hair in the process. The room was starting to get hot, that June humidity unforgiving, even at night. You’d have to open a window later. His body makes yours swelter, skin melting into skin like he’s trying to fuse the both of you into one thing. Like that Greek myth about two halves of a soul.
“Fuck, ‘m so close,” he whimpers. “You feel too good. Shit, I wanted to make you beg.”
“Sounds like you’re the one begging,” you exhale.
“Yeah,” he grunts. “Want you. You’re killing me. Fuck.”
He spills inside of you at the same time you cum, the heaviness of his low groans making your brain break. He’s still drunk, head swimming with every part of you. Above you, he sports that fallen angel look again, eyes gleaming with rapture. Prodigious as he was, he worships you instead, blessed with love bruises adorning his shoulder.
Satoru always liked to fuck you like it was the last day he’d ever have you. Tonight is no different.
He exhales at the juncture of your neck, soothed by your hands in his hair. He lifts his body up, kissing your collarbone before he descends to your belly. You tremble at the feeling of his hand cupping your cunt.
“Satoru, I can’t–”
“Please?” he pouts, his breath tickling your clit. “Wanna taste you. All mixed up with me.”
Heat rises to your face violently. “You’re disgusting.”
“You love it.”
“You made such a mess,” you grumble.
“I’ll clean it up,” he grins.
You let him. His sharp mouth never lets up, anyway.
“Wait! Sit on my face.”
“I can’t even feel my legs,” you pout.
He whines your name. “I had such a tough mission today, baby. You don’t think I deserve it?”
“Spoiled,” you mumble as you switch positions with him. Below you, he looks feral in the eyes, over-eager. Hungry like a wolf even after fucking you hard.
You gasp when he pulls you down, slotting your thighs on each side of his head while he starts to taste you. Licking up into your cunt, moaning at the taste of himself and the sweetness of you. He grips your ass, guiding your movements like the ebb and flow of a wave. You shake above him.
“Jesus.”
You feel him laugh, the vibrations tickling your clit.
“Annoying slut,” you call him. He seems to enjoy it, thinking of it as praise considering how loud he groans. It almost embarrasses you.
That familiar feeling twinges in your core again.
“Cum for me, baby,” he breathes. He latches his mouth on your clit and you think you might burst. Maybe crumble and fly away in the wind like a dandelion.
He continues to suck on you as you ride out your orgasm, your thighs trembling. When he gets up for air, his eyes are blown out wide, drunken smile on his face as if he’s peaking. Chemical reactions in his blood.
“So good for me,” he grins, kissing you on the mouth. Your heart flutters.
His gaze is still searing into you. Looking at him hurts, sometimes.
Satoru presses into you, curling into your neck again. His heartbeat reverberates throughout the room. Tenderness floods the both of you, bodies slotted together like he wants to make a nest out of you.
You’re exhausted with heavy lids. Satoru strokes your skin until you fall asleep, careful fingers soothing the places his mouth had been. Divine wounds. Like a devotional dog with teeth too sharp and love larger than his body, Satoru will be the only one to hurt you.
#gojo smut#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk smut#geto x reader#geto suguru x reader#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x you#geto suguru x you#geto x you#satosugu smut#gojo x geto
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ello! saw your post and i wanna request a moon knight in which the reader is a female and she just graduated uni and the moon boys take turns in bed praising her like "our smart pretty girl", "so independent" of course if you are comfortable writing this have a good day/night :)
Praises // Moon Knight boys ☾ x fem!reader
A/N: Thank you for this request, I’ve been desperate to write something like this again! Also if anyone is at university or college, good luck with any exams/essays/results, I know how difficult it can be but trust me, it’s worth it in the end!
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dom/sub, anxiety, fluff, begging, sub steven, dom marc, dom jake, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral sex (f!recieving), creampie, pet names, shower sex, multiple sex positions, fingering, crying, praise kink, sir kink, daddy kink, aftercare, intense orgasms, pain/pleasure, bdsm, literally this is filthy lol, not beta read im sorry for mistakes
Word: 7.6k (oops)
my masterlist 📚
AO3 Link
The hardwood floor creaked beneath your sock-covered feet as you paced back and forth across the flat you shared with the boys. You’d been at it since the moment you’d awakened that day, anxiety rippling through your body so drastically that pacing was the only action you could complete without the overwhelming feeling of throwing up or passing out.
It was the day you’d been waiting for years, results day. And for some unknown reason, the University had decided to release the results in the evening rather than midday which only caused you to overthink everything you had ever done whilst at uni. What if the results are out late because you failed? What if you have to waste another whole year resitting it? Shaking your head, you tried to let your mind go blank before you spiralled into a deep pit.
Steven watched you from his seat on the sofa, his own nerves bubbling in his stomach, hands wringing in his lap as he glanced at the clock for what felt like the 400th time that day. He desperately wanted you to get your results, he knew for sure that you’d passed but he absolutely hated seeing you this worked up.
Usually, Steven was always the one to be able to help best with your anxieties, compared to Jake and Marc. But today, he felt completely helpless as he watched you continue to pace the same path continuously for hours on end.
“Uh… Love, why don’t you have something to drink, you haven’t had anything all day”, Steven tried to reason with you, his voice trying to be soft and calm and would usually have you crawling into his lap but today, your mind couldn’t even process anything that he said.
Instead, your eyes remained glued to the screen of the laptop that was on the desk between you and Steven, so that he couldn’t see the screen. Your reasoning is that if you failed, you didn’t want him to read the words.
Steven shook his head as you continued to pace, briefly glancing at the mirror as Marc demanded that he make you drink. “I can’t force her to do anything mate” Steven mumbled in reply.
Marc rolled his eyes in announced in the mirror, not that you could see or hear his reply, “You know what Steven, maybe you should force her, it’s been nearly 20 hours since she’s had anything to eat or drink”.
“You do it then mate, I’m not having her hating me when she’s so stressed out-” BING.
Both you and Steven stopped immediately at the recognisable email notification noise. The air in the room suddenly felt thick and heavy as you slowly reached for the laptop, fingers shaking as you were one click away from finding out the much-anticipated results. Steven sat on the edge of the sofa, watching you closely to try and read any sort of expression that would give your results away.
Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as you finally plucked up the courage to click on that all-important email.
You couldn’t breathe for a second, eyes becoming painful from the length of time that you’d gone without blinking until finally, you whispered, “I did it”.
Steven stood so quick his vision blurred as he shouted, “you did it?”
“I did it!” you screamed, reading the word congratulations over and over on the computer screen, the realisation finally set in as you sprinted around the table and jumped into Steven’s arms, causing you both to topple backwards onto the sofa, your legs straddling his body as he held you to him. Both of you were screaming and shouting with joy, you even briefly felt bad for the neighbours but you also didn’t care as happy tears slipped down your cheeks.
You weren’t sure when but the tears soon turned into sobs, all the years, countless nights not sleeping, the essays and exams had all been worth it for this moment. Steven held you close, catching every tear that escape your eyes, his lips brushing against your forehead.
“Oh my beautiful, smart girl” he praised, lips moving across your face until there wasn’t a patch of skin he hadn’t kissed as he continued to compliment you until finally, you stopped sobbing, instead smiling so much that your cheeks ached, which Steven was reciprocating with proud bright eyes.
“I can’t believe it,” you said in a rush, leaning your forehead against his whilst his hands settled against your waist, thumb rubbing small circles over your clothes.
“I never doubted you for a second, Love” Steven bragged, one of his hands moving to cup your cheek which you swiftly nuzzled into. Your boyfriend kissed your lips once more, twice, three times before you pressed harder, with all the eagerness that you could muster, knuckles aching with how tightly you were holding onto his shirt. His soft lips moved with yours, the taste of toast on the tip of your tongue as it slipped in, caressing his own.
Steven moaned, hands both now cupping the back of your head, keeping you close to him as you both became lost in one another's lips. It was only as your lungs burned for the need of air did you pull away, but only to tug on the bottom of his shirt, desperate to feel more of him, your hips rolling down onto his crotch, already feeling this thickening cock, only separated from your cunt by a few layers of material.
Leaning forward, you were able to finally free him of the shirt, his warm beautiful skin flexing under your fingers as they danced along the skin, needing to feel every part of him as those wondrous lips of his travelled down your throat, leaving delicate kisses that had your body shivering in response. “My smart girl, my beautiful smart girl” he mumbled, and you mewled with each praise, loving when Steven was so appreciative of you, which he usually was.
It was only as you reached down to undo his jeans were you stopped by his hands enveloping yours, halting your actions. A frown set across your features as Steven sat back on the sofa so you were able to look at his face.
“Sorry Darlin’, Marc he- he keeps shouting at me and it’s only getting worse. I promise we can continue this but I really need you to drink something”.
You sat back against his knees, hands raising to Steven’s cheeks, thumb rubbing against his cheekbone as you knew the next words would probably get you in trouble but you didn’t care, Marc was ruining a perfectly good moment. “Well… fuck Marc, I’m busy”.
Steven’s head tipped back as he laughed, his eyes creasing as his hands returned to the back of your head, pulling you forward, “oh I’m sure you’ll be paying for that one later”. His lips moulded with yours once more, both of you moaning at the contact, his scents were filling your senses as you turned your head, causing the kiss to go deeper, his tongue flicking out and dancing with your own.
Steven was very good at distractions so you weren’t expecting for him to flip your position so now you were the one on the sofa, lying down with him hovering over you. It was now your turn to be undressed and he moved with delicate touches, making sure to lightly touch your skin as he removed each article of clothing leaving goosebumps across your body.
In between your legs was throbbing uncontrollably, your panties visibly wet as he pulled them down your legs and discarded them across the room. You needed him, you needed him now.
Reaching up to try and pull him down, you whined as he moved out of your reach, his lips kissing the tips of your fingers as he smiled down at you, “Shh my clever girl, let me take care of you”. You didn’t respond, not sure you could even form a proper word as arousal turned your brain to fuzz. Particularly as you lay there and watched the half-naked Steven move lower, hands now on the back of your thighs pushing up until you were completely exposed to him, the cool air causing your sweet cunt to clench around nothing.
He didn’t break eye contact, as he lowered his face, tongue out until finally, he licked the length of your core, savouring the unique taste that was only you. Both of you moaned deeply, his movements were slow, calculated like they always were. Steven was a passionate lover, more submissive than the other two but that mean that all he wanted to do was pleasure you, never caring if he came, only caring that you were taken care of.
His talented tongue moved up your slit, reaching your throbbing bean, circling it slowly, adding the slightest bit of pressure, making sure to really build up your already heightened arousal. At the same time, his long fingers moved to your entrance, circling it in the same manner as his tongue and slowly, you watched him slip one finger in, your mouth hung open, a constant stream of moans leaving it, only spurring Steven on.
The man didn’t do anything special with his fingers, for now, that was for later, instead, he simply felt the velvety warm walls, stretching you enough to slip in a second finger, rocking them both in and out as a single dark curl fell onto his forehead. Your hand reached out, sliding through his hair, not being rough, you could never be rough with Steven but simply scratching his scalp, silently telling him that he was doing good, perfect in fact.
Steven watched you for a few moments, continuing his slow actions, knowing that he was going to make you cum in the next minute but wanting to have the image of you moaning, glossy-eyed and desperate, engraved into his brain.
Removing his mouth from your centre, he beamed, “I’m so proud of you”. Steven's lips then seal around your clit, sucking it into his mouth whilst at the same time starting to curl his fingers, pumping his hand and the tingling sensation rushed over you before you could fully process his words. Releasing your clit, his tongue swiped across with firm pressure whilst his fingers didn’t stop the movements, Steven became aware that his chin and neck were becoming wet as you squirted over him, eyes rolling back, the hand in his hair moving to the sofa so you didn’t pull out his hair, needing to grip something as your core tightened violently until finally, you came.
Your cunt convulsed around his fingers, your body spasming as Steven’s fingers slowed until eventually, he pulled them out, his tongue licking up every drip of your juices. He smiled down at you, cheeks flushed as he could see the happy smile spread across your face, “I need you, Steven”.
“You can have me Love, but not here, you deserve the bed, not the sofa, come on”, tugging on your hand, he helped you up, chuckling at the slight wobbling of your legs but the distance to the bed wasn’t long and you were soon pushing him into the middle, crawling up until you were straddling his lap. Once again, however, Steven switched your positions, shaking his head as he smiled mischievously down at you. “How ever will I treat my ever so clever girl, passing her degree all by herself”.
“Steven please”, he never usually had you begging like this, that was more Jake's job but Steven couldn’t help himself today, he wanted you to feel amazing. Reaching up, you gripped his hair, pulling his face down so you could hungrily kiss him, tongues clashing together, teeth nipping on lips.
The man hovering over you reached between your bodies, fumbling to undo his jeans with shaky hands, his cock almost painful with how hard he was, he relieved sigh escaped his lips that were still attached to yours as his member was finally freed. You noticed his reaction and instantly reached for him, tossing him off a few times, enjoying the way he bucked his hips with your movements, before angling it towards your entrance, not even giving him time to fully take off the remainder of his clothes.
You both groaned deeply as he finally slide his thick hard cock into your quivering hole, your arousal enough to be a natural lube as he easily filled you inch after inch until finally you were both slotted together.
Sex with Steven was never the same as with Marc or Jake. It was never rushed, aggressive or filled with fancy sex positions. No, it was always sensual, and passionate and he knew your body better than your own but he was always modest about it, simply smiling down at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world. Obviously Marc and Jake thought the same but sex with them was just…different, you loved them all equally especially as they were all so unique.
Your back arched up as Steven started to pull out, his thrusts were long and deep, and his hands were interlocked with your own, held above your head whilst his lips travelled down the length of your throat. Every drag of his hips had you clinging harder to him, as he built up your pleasure until he had to cuming just as hard as the first time, your cunt clenching hard around him that he too came, your name spilt from his lips in desperation, arms wobbling to keep himself up as he stilled within.
After a few moments of trying to catch your breaths, he rolled off of you, his hand coming up to stroke your cheek as both of you smiled at each other like idiots in love. Closing your eyes, you savoured the after-sex glow, listening to each other breath.
“You know… you really do need to eat something Poppet. How about we go to dinner? Celebrate the great news, have a few drinks?”
“I would love that very much, Mr Grant. Let me just have a quick shower”, you lean up to kiss him, standing and doing the awkward run to the bathroom, hands between your legs to stop any of his cum from dripping onto the floor.
Stepping into the shower, you let the warm water spill over your body, relaxing your muscles. The reality of passing university brushed over your thoughts again as you did a happy dance in the shower, quickly before washing your body.
You’d become so lost in your happy little thoughts that you didn’t hear the other person enter the bathroom, not until a warm solid body collided with your back. Smiling to yourself, you leaned into the warmth, feeling the already hardening cock against your lower back. “Ready for another round are you, my love?” you asked innocently.
As you made to turn around, a muscular arm circled around your front, gripping your jaw in a strong grip so you were now held firmly in place. Definitely not Steven.
The hand holding your jaw pushed upwards, tipping your head back so that the shower sprayed across your face, lips moved to your ears, tickling and teasing as a low voice murmured, “Fuck Marc? Did I hear you correctly?”
You knew he could feel the pounding of your heart as he held your jaw, his teeth nipping your ear as you rubbed your thighs together, cunt clenching in anticipation, you didn’t date speak. It was always the game of cat and mouse when it came to Marc and your relationship but in the end, Marc always was the winner.
“All you needed to do…was to have one drink of water, just one”. You were hyperaware of every single movement that he made as he raised his spare hand to rest lightly against your naked hip, keeping you close to him.
“Well we were slightly distracted…sir”, you added the name for good measure, not wanting to annoy him any further.
His lips turned up slightly at your words but he didn’t say anything for a few minutes, leaving the anticipation thick in the air until at least, he squeezed your jaw, demanding you open. Immediately you opened your mouth wide, the water from the shower dribbling out and down your chin.
“Drink.”
You drank the water as it poured down from the shower, gulping the water thirstily.
“Good girl”, he whispered, feeling every time you swallowed whilst he continued to hold your jaw. His words sent shivers up your spine, causing it to rub harder against his cock that throbbed against you.
As your gulps started to slow down and Marc was happy with your water intake, he spun you around, pressing your back against the cool tiles, hand still holding onto your jaw, the other now leaning against the wall above you. Reaching down to your height, his back now had the shower beating against it so you weren’t being sprayed anymore.
Slowly, you raised your eyes from the floor, up his body to his dark beautiful eyes. Even though he shared the same body as Steven and Jake, he still looked different, you weren’t sure whether it was the hardening of the gaze in his eyes or the beautiful smirk that he held on his lips but either way, it brought a sly smile to your own mouth, having not seen him for a week.
“I hear congratulations are in order, you beautiful intelligent girl.” Pride and love bloomed in your chest.
“Thank you, sir”. So distracted by his handsome face, you didn’t notice the hand he had used to lean against the wall, slip down until his calloused fingertip started rubbing against your eagerly awaiting clit, causing you to cry out.
“I’m so proud of you, baby girl”.
“Tha-thank you, sir. I couldn’t have done it without you-ah!” Marc had slipped two fingers into your centre, his thumb now rubbing slow methodical circles against your bundle of nerves, your hips began moving with the action instantly. He watched you closely, his eyes devouring your every move.
Marc didn’t quicken his pace as he continued talking, the two fingers within you moving in and out steadily, “Now, I think my baby girl deserves a reward, what do you say?” You could only nod, moaning at his clever hands. “You’ve done so amazingly over these last few years. I want to pleasure you until you can’t walk and then we’ll order some food, no need to leave this place when I’ve got to make you feel good, baby.”
The mere thought of what he had planned had your core tightening, the tingles already spreading down your thighs as you breathed out, “I’m close, sir.”
“You want to cum for daddy?”
“Yes please, daddy”. His fingers moved quicker, bending at the perfect angle as his mouth dropped to suck one of your erect nipples, your hands instantly moving to hold onto his wrist that still held your jaw.
“Then cum for me, baby”. You did. Hard. The wind was knocked out of you as your knees wobbled, nails digging into his skin as your pussy contracted around his fingers.
Releasing your nipple with a pop, Marc moved quickly, turning you around, not giving you time to process what was happening as you found your face pushed against the shower wall. The water then stopped spraying the two of your as he turned it off, pulling your hips backwards leaving you slightly bent over.
Your boyfriend then proceeded to lick your cunt dry, you twitch at the oversensitiveness, automatically moving away from his warm tongue as it lapped over your swollen bud. “Shh, it’s ok Sweetheart”, he kisses both of your arse cheeks, “no more clit play unless you ask”.
Sighing in slight relief, you wiggled your hips as he stood to his full height. Glancing over your shoulder, you moaned, “mmm, want your cock sir”.
“Ok baby girl”, he was penetrating you a second later, your sensitive walls already clenching around him. Having already been fucked by Steven already today, you didn’t need time to adjust and Marc knew that as he started a quick, hard and thorough pace, his hand tugging on your hair so your neck ached at the odd angle, the sounds of your bodies slapping together like music to his ears. “My good girl, my very clever pretty girl”.
You were grunting with each thrust, trying your best to not cum already, it had only been two minutes but you were so sensitive from the previous activities. “I…I already need to cum sir, I don’t think I can hold it, I’m sorry”.
“That’s ok baby, cum for me, that’s it”, your knees buckled as you came, your insides felt like they were on fire as every nerve poured with pleasure, it took you a second to realise that Marc had his arm around your middle stopping you from collapsing to the floor. Easing out of you, he helped you out of the shower after you had found your footing, you stepped out, holding his hand but soon were leaning up to heavily kiss him, realising that you hadn’t even kissed him since he began fronting.
You could feel yourself becoming needier the more feverish the kiss became, enough so that your hand slipped down to grip Marc’s still incredibly hard cock, trying to please him but his hand caught your wrist stopping your movements. Breaking the kiss, Marc looked into your eyes, smirking slightly at your bratty whine.
“Do you want to stop? I need to hear your words?”
“I want you to cum in my pussy, please don’t stop sir” you desperately replied.
Marc didn’t need to be told twice as you found yourself being manhandled by him once more, as he pushed you over the sink, thrusting into your core, pulling on your hair like he had in the shower but now you were faced with the bathroom mirror so you could watch Marc pounded into you.
Leaning over until his lips were next to your ear, with each pound of his hips, Marc praised you, much like how Steven did, about how you were such a smart girl, you’ve done so well, his little university graduate. Your cunt clenched with his words, feeling both fucked out of your mind and proud of yourself at the same moment was hard to comprehend but he made you feel so special. Marc was always a soft dom, he would praise you no matter what, even in your brattiest of moments, but he just loved looking after his baby girl, not like Jake, he liked to handle those moments in different styles, not that you would ever want to be bratty with Jake.
Marc’s other hand which had been holding on to your hips with a fierce grip, moved to your torso, fondling your tits, squeezing the soft flesh, as his lips sucked into the side of your neck lightly. You tried to speak to tell him you were going to cum but the only noises to leave you were heavy moans Marc could tell you were getting close by the fluttering that your cunt was doing around his cock, he had been trying to hold off for a while, seeing you bent over in the shower nearly had him spurting his seed over your back but he held out for as long as he could to see just how much you could handle.
“That’s it, baby, cum with me, well done, good girl”, your core felt impossibly tight as finally, your orgasm rippled through your body. Marc was thankful that you were over the sink, his own orgasm making his knees wobble slightly so that he had to hold onto the side next to your hips to keep himself up as he shouted your name out.
He kissed a line up your back as you tried to catch your breath, his cock slipping out of you followed by his hot seed dripping out and onto the floor. He then spent a few quiet moments cleaning you up, wiping away his cum as softly as he could, apologising every time you flinched before finally asking if you thought you could walk, to which you promptly shook your head no. It didn’t go unnoticed by you the large smirk that he had on his face at hearing that his plan worked.
Your handsome boyfriend eased your body into his arms, your head laying on his shoulder as he supported your legs and back, carrying you back into the main area of the flat and onto the bed, neither of you particularly caring that you were still damp from the shower. Sighing in relief at finally being on a soft surface, Marc wrapped a spare blanket over your cold body, kissing your hairline delicately.
“I’ll be back in a moment sweetheart, I’ll order us some food, my smart girl”.
You must have fallen asleep because, by the time you had woken up, the smell of food was filling the apartment, your stomach making a loud growl at the realisation that food was here. Sitting up in bed, you blinked away the sleep in your eyes, groaning at the ache in your muscle from the evening's activities. The food smelt amazing however so ignoring the pain, you climbed out of bed, keeping the blanket around your naked body and glanced across the room into the kitchen, expecting to see Marc unboxing whatever food he had decided upon ordering but instead, he was hunched over the stove, cooking something.
Frowning you tried to clear the fog in your head to make sense of it. Marc couldn’t cook anything except toast (only on a good day), there was no way he’d be able to cook whatever you were smelling right now, and as for Steven, you’d be lucky to get a plain slide of bread without it being wrong in some kind of way. So it wasn’t Marc and it definitely wasn’t Steven that you were watching cook.
It was an almost immediate reaction, your whole body felt warm and safe. It wasn’t that Marc and Steve didn’t make you feel safe, of course, they did but with Jake, his unhinged personality meant that he would do anything and everything to keep you safe, it was a different type of protection compared to the other two. It was also not very often that you get to see all three alters in one day.
Biting your lip in anticipation, you stepped forward, “Papi?” His head flicked towards you immediately, moving the food off the heat so he could approach you.
His footsteps were heavy as he walked closer, his arms out, ready for your next move which was to drop the blanket and jump into his arms, legs circling his waist and arms holding tightly to his shoulders as his strong arms held onto your naked body.
“Mi Amor” he mumbled against your neck, kissing the skin lightly as he held you close. You hadn’t seen Jake in weeks, particularly with all the stress that you had been through with the ending of university, he hated seeing you anxious. Unless there was someone else to hurt if they had caused the anxiety, he usually stayed away, hating to see love upset, it slowly sends him into an unbalanced state that no one particularly needed to deal with.
“I’ve missed you”, pulling away from his shoulder, you looked into his brown eyes that looked nearly black whenever Jake was fronting.
“I missed you too, cariño,” his voice was deep and laced with his beautiful Spanish accent that made your heart flutter. “My beautiful, intelligent girl”. Your cheeks warmed due to his compliments as he lowered you back to the floor, his hands cupping the sides of your head, tilting your face up to his so he could kiss your forehead tenderly, then lower to your lips. You wanted desperately to whine at the loss of contact but you didn’t want to ruin this calm Jake that you had not seen in a while, recently whenever he had fronted, it would be after a mission with Konshu and he would have a lot of pent up frustration and tension, leading to hours of you begging for him to allow you to cum, so seeing him calm wasn’t something you were used too.
Kissing your forehead one more time, he nodded in the direction of the table that still had your laptop on from earlier with the best email you had ever received. “Go and take a seat, the food is nearly ready, and take this, you’ll catch a cold, mi amor”, Jake then proceeded to remove his shirt, handing the warm material to you. Quickly pulling it over your head, you took a second to openly ogle at his body, even though you knew his body like the back of your hand, it still managed to get you all hot and bothered.
Jake chuckled deeply to himself, a single finger pushed under your chin, lifting your eyes from his chest up to his eyes, “later mi amor, now, go and take a seat”. You did as instructed, trying to ignore the evidence of arousal that was moistening your core, his shirt the only thing covering up the glistening wet that was slowly spreading over your thighs as you took a seat and tried not to move too much otherwise he would hear the squeak of your wet cunt against the leather chair.
He joined you soon after at the table, carrying two plates filled with delicious food that had your mouth watering, Jake was such a fantastic cook. As you moved to pick up a fork, Jake swatted your hand away lightly, “allow me” he demanded softly so you sat, hands clutching the edge of his shirt whilst he fed you.
He was able to feed both you and himself and with every bite you held strong eye contact with him, thanking him for every drop of food that you swallowed until he was scraping his and your plate clean. Pushing them to the other side of the table, he sat back in his chair, legs spread as he looked your head to two, making you squirm at the intense stare.
“Just taking the opportunities whilst I can”. You frowned at his words, not quite understanding what he meant.
“What opportunities?”
“To do things for you, there won't be much opportunity as you won’t need me for much longer now will you.”
The room suddenly felt small and suffocating as your throat closed shut, it felt like your world was crumbling.
“What?” was all you could whisper, barely audible as you tried not to cry, watching as Jake sat forward in his seat, forearms leaning against the table.
“Well now, you’re a big independent girl, you’ve passed your university degree, what else would you need me for, right?” You realised now that he was joking but you still felt on edge. “I mean, my smart Princesa, you’ve done this all by yourself, you won’t need me anymore”.
“I’ll… I’ll always need you Jake”, he gave you a pointed look so you quickly corrected yourself, “Papi, I’ll always need you”.
He didn’t respond immediately, still taking his time looking up and down your body until it looked like he had decided upon something. Lifting to fingers, he bent them, signalling for you to come to him which you did without needing to be told twice. Jake sat back in the chair, opening his arms for you to sit comfortably in his lap but before you fully sat, he twirled with his hand so you turned your back to him, sitting down in his lap, your head leaning back against his shoulder.
“Now I want you to do something for me, look at that right there” he pointed to the seat you were just in. At first, you looked on, confused about what exactly you were supposed to be looking at but then you spotted it and your cheeks burned hot. On the leather seat, the evidence of your juicy cunt hadn’t dried, even though you had tried not to drip onto the seat.
“Did my amigos not take good enough care of you today Princesa?” You were so embarrassed, it wasn’t normal for your body to still be craving someone's touch when you’d already been pounded multiple times and orgasmed multiple times, yet here you were, nipples peaked, clit throbbing uncomfortably, internally begging that he would touch you.
“Well? Did they?”
“The-they did Papi, I just..always want you, I’ve missed you so much-” your words were cut off as his large hand encircled around your throat squeezing slightly. The other hand moved to ease each of your thighs on either side of his so once he spread his legs further, your legs widened, causing the shirt you were wearing to rise, exposing your wet, marginally swollen cunt to him.
Your breathing quickened as you watched his hand move towards the area you wanted him to touch so desperately. Jake noticed your breathing and not wanting to overwhelm you, shifted the hand up your neck until his index finger could slip into your mouth. Almost instantly you were sucking on it, the action helping to distract and calm you, the muscles all over your body relaxing as you melted back into his hard body.
Your body still jolted however as he rubbed two fingers up and down your folds, coating himself in your arousal before lifting them in front of both of your faces, displaying it. “See, this would say otherwise” he then lifted the fingers to his mouth, sucking them, moaning at the taste before lowering it, testing to see just how much you could take with him. First, he tried to circle your clit with his finger but you hissed at the touch, almost biting down on his finger in your mouth, before he moved lower to your cunt, pushing in slowly and you could feel how oversensitive your walls were and how you were slightly swollen from the action you’d received earlier as his one finger felt like the same thickness as his cock at that moment.
Jake didn’t say anything at first, simply humming as he removed his digit, once again licking it clean before kissing the side of your head, his favourite way to show that you were safe with him and that he’d look after you.
“Now, how am I going to praise you for doing such incredible work with finishing university if you can hardly even take my finger, mi amor.” You huffed in frustration, the building tension was becoming nearly unbearable, even though it was uncomfortable, the pleasure was slowly starting to outweigh the pain. Sex with Jake was usually quite rough anyway so it was nothing that you hadn’t dealt with before.
“I can take it” you mumbled around his finger, reaching across to his other hand, trying to drag it back to your sopping cunt but he kept it still, not giving in to your demands. Instead, he stood, pulling you up with him, arm around your waist as he walked you to the bed, hand tugging on the shirt you worse until your arms shot up, allowing him to pull it off of you, before pushing on your chest so that you collapsed into the centre of the bed.
Looking up at him, you tried not to show how much he intimate you as he began to take off the remainder of his clothes and then crawled to join you, the evidence of his own excitement standing proud in between his legs until he was lying next to you.
“Turn over” he instructed, which you swiftly followed, lying on your side with your back to him, the warmth of his chest had you nuzzling back as his lips delicately kissed your bare shoulder. “You still think you can take me?” he asked, lifting up your leg and resting it onto of his, the feeling of his cock prodding at your inner thigh had you whimpering for more.
“Yes Papi, I can take it”, his only response to your words were him pinching your nipple harshly, tugging it away from your body and then letting it snap back as he released it. Your hips moved at the sensation, the pleasure once again pooling in your cunt entrance. “Need you…”
“You need me? But I thought you were a smart independent girl who doesn’t need me anymore?” you teased, his teeth now grazing your neck, hard enough that you were sure there would be indents in your skin. You could feel yourself feeling more and more subby as the seconds ticked by, your brain fuzzy with the need to be stimulated and Jake once again just laughed at how desperate you were becoming, he always loved to tease and push you to your limits.
Knowing that you’d start crying soon if he didn’t fuck you, he shifted his hips up, his tip finally pushing into your warm, wet folds, finding your aching hole and penetrating within. The sensation took your breath away, you felt so tight even Jake had to stop for a moment as he slide all the way in, otherwise, he would have cum before it had even begun.
His fingers still played with your nipples but as he started to pull out, he moved to grip your throat, the pressure was welcoming, not enough to fully cut off oxygen completely, but enough that you had to concentrate on how you breathed. Lifting your own hands, you gripped onto his wrist, much as you had with Marc.
This position felt intimate, he felt like he was all over you as he cursed in Spanish, his lips right next to your ear as he pushed his cock back into you, it being slightly easier than the first time. You’d never felt this overstimulated before, the mixture of pain and pleasure was blissful and you were worried that you were already only on the verge of cuming with all of the teasings that he’d done.
His pace was unusually slow, but you were thankful, not wanting to have too much stimulation at once but suddenly he snapped his hips up harshly, his cock fucking straight into your g-spot, your cunt clenching like a vice as the recognisable sensation of tightening in your core already overwhelmed you.
“Wait- wait I’m going to cum Papi, wait-” his thrusts didn’t stop, they were still slow but were harsh and you felt the rumble of his chest on your back as he growled in your ear.
“Then cum, mi Amor, cum my clever Princesa”. Your vision nearly turned blank as you hadn’t expected him to give you permission, it was almost an instant reaction as you came, the throbbing contractions fluttering around his cock as your nails dug into his wrist harshly, unable to mentally process what had even happened for a few seconds.
Jake had stopped moving to give you time to recover, another thing that he never usually did, sensing your confusion, he nipped your ear and murmured, “don’t expect this to be a regular occurrence, I’m only being nice because of how proud I am of you today. Do you need to use your safe words?”
You wanted to shake your head, thinking you couldn’t possibly talk but you knew he would get angry if you didn’t use your words so as he removed his hand from your throat you smiled, mumbling, “green Papi”.
Jake pulled his cock out of you, rolling you onto your front and pulling up your hips until you were on your knees, your face laid out on the bed, you were too lazy to try and push yourself up but this was the exact position that Jake wanted you in as he reached forward, pulling each of your arms until he held them behind your back, your neck now straining for the lack of support but any thought of discomfort flew out of the window as he fucked back into you.
You screamed out, not caring who heard as the bed started to shake against Steven’s book cake, Jake wasn’t holding back now. He grunted with each stroke, your cunt gripping him tightly like a glove as he watched himself disappear inside of you. The grip on your hands allowed him to pull you back onto his cock as you repeatedly moaned out Papi.
After all the pleasure you’d had all day, you didn’t think it was possible for you to cum again, having lost count of how many orgasms you’d even had that day but sure enough, as Jake moved to kneel on one knee behind you, the change in movements causing his cock to tip up the slightest bit, he now was just pounding into your poor sensitive g-spot.
“Ah- Papi, I need…to…cum” you shouted, eyes rolling back at the overwhelming sensations, not even listening to whether you had permission or not as euphoria rushed through every inch of your body once more, your toes curling, small drips of squirt dripping onto the sheets below. Jake pulled out, letting go of your arms and you all but collapsed onto the bed, exhausted, body shaking from the day's events.
“See, this is why I make you wait to cum, you’ll just tire yourself out if I let you cum whenever you want, for a smart girl you really are dumb sometimes.” Jake teased, satisfied with how thoroughly fucked you looked.
Glancing over your shoulder tiredly, you looked at his still-hard cock, then up to his beautiful face. “I still want you to cum in me, Papi.”
Jake bit his lip, contemplating your words, hand brushing down your spine, “you know… any other day I would be already fucking you into the mattress but I think you’ve had enough today”.
You frowned at his words, having never heard him actually say no to fucking you before, usually he would continue until you were crying with being overstimulated or floating in subspace. “But..but I can take it, I promise Papi” you tried to wiggle your arse to show him you were still up for it but your whole body felt like jelly so it didn’t move much. “Please!”
Jake glanced away for a moment like he was thinking through the consequences if he continued to stop until finally, he looked back, gripping your cheeks to show the seriousness of his words. “If you started to feel only pain and no pleasure, you tell me immediately do you understand?” he was using his dom tone of voice, one that you wanted to cower away from but instead you simply responded with a simple “yes”.
“Good. And the next time you cum, it will be the final time, as much as I love feeling your beautiful cunt pulsing around my dick, I already know you’re going to be feeling a bit spacey with the next one so we will be stopping and doing aftercare, whether I’ve cum or not, do you understand mi amor?”
“Yes, Papi.” Swallowing harshly at his seriousness, you also could feel the anticipation for him filling you back up again, even though everything felt overly sensitive, you couldn’t wait, the only issue was that your legs were so weak you could kneel back into position so Jake helped you to lift your hips and slide a pillow beneath you, helping your cunt to arch up but still being comfortable for you.
He straddled your legs, hands clenching your arse cheeks, prying them apart so he could look at your core, whispering about its beauty before finally he inched his veiny thick cock back inside of you. All the energy in your body had disappeared so that you couldn’t even grip the sheets, only instead being able to moan out his name repeatedly, as his hips snapped into yours.
This position also allowed him to hit deeper spots inside your cunt, each movement was like a spark of pure pleasure that had you on a constant high. Jake moaned at the sight beneath him, knowing that he was close, he picked up the pace, knowing it needed to be now or never as your eyebrows bunched together, mouth opening in a silent O, just a few more deep, heavy thrusts and his milky cum was coating your walls, just as you also shivered and clenched around him in orgasm but this one was different.
Through the multitude that you’d had that day, all your energy was burnt so you simply shivered and dribbled into the sheets, Jake even though for a moment you’d passed out but you still responded when he called out your name.
Not that you were aware of it, but Jake moved off of the bed, returning only once he had two wash clothes in his hand, one to clean you up with, which you didn’t even flinch at, whilst the other he simply placed it over your cunt as something to ease the pain and swelling.
Finally, he pulled on some underwear, picked up the discarded blanket from the table and moved back into bed, shifting your dead weight up until he was beneath you, your body lying over his chest as he covered you both with the blanket.
Stroking back the sweaty hair out of your face, Jake kissed your forehead one last time for that night, whispering, “well done my clever girl.”
#moon knight smut#moon knight one shot#moon knight fic#moon knight#steven grant one shot#steven grant smut#steven grant fic#steven grant x reader#marc spector smut#marc spector#marc spector x reader#steven grant#jake lockley smut#jake lockley x reader#jake lockley#mine*#request
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hi i'm the anon that sent the request about the rare pair!
okay so the request is alastor x adam or angelicradio: i would like to think that alastor would be obsessed with adam cause adam was able to beat him and no one has every done that before(besides lucifer, if they had ever fought🤷🏽♀️). And now that adam is a sinner, alastor would take the opportunity to 'woo' adam or like 1930s it and 'court' him. i'm aware that alastor would rather use adam in some type of twisted plan he would have, but let me dream lol. so adam start giving alastor a chance and they went on a date to test the waters and adam really enjoyed it, although he is a little hesitant, because of what happened with his first two wives and lucifer. so alastor 'shows' him..
tender/possessive sex, please!
sorry for the word vomit
No problem! The more detailed the prompt is, the more the one-shot can be made to your liking! Now, believe it or not, Adam and Alastor are not that rare of a pair. Check the ao3 tag!
Anyway, let us begin! This is not Lucifer-friendly. I will also try respecting Alastor being Ace. I have an idea of how it would work without having Alastor physically having sex with Adam. Hopefully, I do it justice.
Three months.
Alastor had no idea what he should do and that was something he wouldn't stand for. The Radio Demon would like to think he knew himself well. He knew his emotions and how to regulate them. He was the epitome of class and refinement, with a taste for other demons and danger.
But he didn't know how he felt about Adam. At first, when the man came into the hotel after making a deal with Charlie Morningstar, Alastor was determined not to be in the same room as the brash sheep demon. He could let go of Adam hurting him in public when he was dead for good. But now that he was alive and under the same roof as him?
It was insulting, to say the least. Well, for the first few months. Now? He couldn't help but secretly be impressed that Adam held his own so well against him. No demon in Hell could say that.
Adam was an enigma. A puzzle to solve. Alstor could read people well, but Adam had so many layers. Most could only see the first layer. A brash and fowled mouth demon who was under soul contract with Charlie. The second layer was harder to see. Adam reserved it for animals.
Surprisingly, he was good with them. Extremely good. Any animal, no matter how dangerous, acted calmly or like an excited puppy near Adam. When he was alone with them, he had a softer voice and didn't swear as much. He cuddled them gently and took care of them with that of someone who loved animals.
His third layer was for when he was completely alone. When Adam was sure no one was watching, he looked defeated and broken. A shell of the angel who fought him so easily. He cried quietly. Not loudly like some would for attention. Adam cried as if he had no sound to give. Like someone had turned the nob of a radio to silent, and all you were left with was uncomfortable silence.
Alastor didn't know what to feel. So, he observed him from afar. Some would call it stalking but he was nothing like that infernal TV demon. He had class.
When he witnessed Lucifer make a snide comment about Adam's weight to his face, Alastor could feel the anger rolling off him. He could also feel, on a much smaller scale, how much it hurt him. Alastor watched as Adam ate less. It was enough where no one noticed unless you were looking for it, someone like Alastor for instance, but enough where Adam was losing weight.
Something in Alastor moved. Maybe it was the poor boy from the Bayou talking, but he didn't like the idea of anyone starving. Especially if they were doing it to themselves.
Without really thinking, Alastor had one day took Adam by the arm and teleported them to the kitchen alone.
"What the fuck, you freak!?" Adam yelled, his eyes darting around in anger. Alastor was sure that he was the only one who could see the fear in his eyes.
"Now, none of that!" Alastor laughed. "When was the last time you've eaten?"
A pause and then a growl. "None of your fucking business!" Alastor nodded. "That long. You must be famished then!"
He pushed the sheep demon into a chair and watched with some amusement as Adam fell into it. "How about some jambalaya? My mother's recipe is the best in Hell!"
"And what makes you think that I would trust anything you make for me?" Adam said with narrowed eyes. "How do I know you won't poison me or something?"
Alastor let out a chuckle. The idea of poisoning him was a funny way to kill him. But it wasn't the Radio Demon's preferred method. No, he liked to be up close and personal when choosing his victims. Adam wasn't even on his list if Alastor was being honest with himself. When did that happen? He shook his head. It didn't matter but he did have a reputation to uphold after all.
"Oh, Adam. You've been here for three months now? If I wanted to kill you, I would have done so already!"
He watched as Adam mulled over his words before shrugging. "Ah, fuck it. But why food?"
Alastor rolled his eyes. "Didn't I already tell you why? You're hungry, Adam. You're intentionally skipping meals. No one under this roof will starve while I'm here." And that was it. Adam didn't say anything else and neither did Alastor for the duration of the meal. But somehow, they both knew that something had changed. Any time Adam skipped a meal, Alastor was there to make sure he ate.
Four months
Alastor and Adam had begun acting differently with each other. Alastor wasn't sure when that happened, but they were...friendly with each other. They joked, they ate together, and they even sometimes took walks around Hell. Alastor didn't know how things had changed but the Radio Demon wasn't opposed to it.
Adam was good company when you looked past the first layer. No one seemed even willing to try to look past the tough exterior Adam put out to protect himself. A shell that Alastor finally seemed to be slowly chipping away with hard work. No good friendship was easy but the Radio Demon, weirdly enough, was willing to give it a go.
He was currently telling all this to his best friend, Rosie. Oh, and what a doll she was!
"Oh, Alastor! That's wonderful!" Rosie said with a warm smile. But that smile quickly turned into a playful smirk. "But you don't see it, do you?"
Alastor tilted his head. He didn't like to be on the outs when it came to information. Rosie knew this though, so she had better get to the point.
"What do you mean, dear?"
"Alastor, you're in love. Or at least attracted to him." Alastor felt something snap in him, like a record snapping in half.
He let out a laugh. "Rosie, you do say the most hilarious things! In love? Me? Preposterous! Why, perish the thought!"
Rosie just gave him a knowing smirk. "You haven't stopped talking to about him for an hour. That says a lot."
Alastor looked at his now cold tea. Him? In love with Adam? He couldn't be! He had never been even attracted to anyone when he was alive nor since he died. Why would Rosie even suggest this?
"Just think about it." Rosie urged. And so Alastor did. He thought about it when he did his broadcast. He thought about it when he and Adam ate dinner, the lamb conveniently forgot, and he thought about it when he was sitting in his bed.
He thought about Adam in general. He was pleasing to the eyes. Anyone could see that. Big brown eyes, all soft curves, and a throat he just wanted to bite—
"Shit," Alastor said when he realized it. He guessed Rosie was right after all. He glanced at his lap. If he gave this a try, would Adam be okay with him not having sexual intimacy with him? Sex didn't gross him out, but he just never felt the need for it. His body wasn't made for something like that and Alastor had come to accept that. It was no skin off his nose in life or death.
But from Alastor's experience, nobody was satisfied with that. They always wanted more than what he could give. A certain annoying television came into mind making him growl. Would Adam be the same?
He sighed as he flopped into bed. He would think about this tomorrow.
Four months, two weeks
Alastor gave it enough thought. He was well and truly in love with Adam. He watched his lamb, for he was his and his alone, sitting on the hotel's roof with an animal he didn't care to know the name of. It was a cross between a chicken and a rat with a beak full of razor-sharp teeth that wouldn't hesitate to bite your shins if you weren't careful.
Adam, of course, was the exception to it all as he petted the thing on his lap as it slept. He murmured soft things to it and looked at peace.
Alastor was holding a bouquet, one that held meaning. It consisted of red Roses, peonies, tulips, amaryllis, and American Cowslip. It was hard for even him to get flowers such as this, they didn't normally grow in the Pride Ring, but Alastor wanted to pull all the stops.
He sighed to himself, why was he so nervous, as he walked up to the lamb demon. Alastor cleared his throat to get his attention and Adam turned to him with a lazy smile. "Hi, Alastor. What do you got there?"
"I know exactly what they mean." Alastor interrupted. "I picked them out especially for you." Adam let out a shaky breath, his warm brown eyes flickering from the flowers back to the Radio Demon.
Alastor bowed to Adam and presented him with the flowers. "For you, mon ange~" The sheep demon gently moved the sleeping creature before gingerly taking the bouquet in his hands. "Alastor, do you know what these mean? Because—"
"Adam, would you do me the magnificent honor of allowing me to court you?" Brown eyes widened. It was filled with fear, hurt, hope, and intrigue. Adam was always filled with so much emotion.
"I—I, you have to know about my failed marriages. I don't want to fuck up what we have because I want more." He said softly. This was the most vulnerable he had ever seen the demon. Alastor realized just how much trust he was putting in him and he couldn't help but feel even more love.
"No relationship, friendship or romantic, is easy." He placed a clawed hand on the taller demon's cheek causing him to gasp softly. "But I want to try." Alastor then added, "If you feel uncomfortable with the idea though, we can forget this happened. I am more than happy being friends with you."
He watched so many emotions flicker in his eyes before Adam timidly smiled. "Let's do it. Let's fuckign do it."
Four months, three weeks.
Alastor brushed through his hair with a comb. This was it. He had a date with Adam. Their first ever date was tonight and everything had to be perfect. For the past week, they have been keeping their relationship a secret. Alastor was fine with that. He wanted his lamb to be comfortable with everything they do.
They had sweet nights together, just talking about everything and anything. Food prepared especially for Adam that Alastor tried to replicate from when the man was alive. He also had fun showing him his own roots. Adam was a fast learner, taking all the information like a sponge. Sure, his vocabulary was sprinkled with curses and his music was less than desirable, but they both respected each other and that said a lot.
Alastor took one last look in the mirror and smiled. He was never fully dressed without one.
Walking out of his room, he made his way to Adam's room where they agreed to meet up before heading to the restaurant. As he prepared himself to knock, he heard a voice he recognized immediately and it made his hackles rise.
"What's wrong, Adam? Where's that furious spirit you have?" Lucifer. He hated that man. Not only was he a neglectful father, but he was also a pitiful man who moaned about his ex-wife all the time to those who could hear it. Especially when he was drunk. He threw his power around with Adam because Charlie had him under contract and he wasn't allowed to hurt anyone in the hotel. Lucifer used this against him a lot.
"Let go! Fucking let go!" Adam yelled angrily but Alastor could hear the fear tinged in it. With a furious growl, he manifested into the room and took in what was in front of him.
Lucifer had a leash around Adam's neck, holding it harshly to the point he was wheezing. A heeled boot was digging into his lower back and Alastor knew it would leave a bruise.
"Well, what do you have here?" Alastor growled out menacingly. They both looked up. One with a carefully blank expression and the other with a fearful yet hopeful look.
"Run along, Bambi. This doesn't concern you." Lucifer said before he yanked the chain again. Adam, like the good lamb he was, refused to let out the whimper Alastor could see bubbling up.
"Charlie is looking for you. What should I tell her about what I'm seeing?" Lucifer growled out as well. Pure demonic energy filled the room, neither one seemingly ready to back down. Alastor supposed the fear of losing whatever family he had left was enough for Lucifer to back down after awhile. With a final yank, the chain disappeared along with the King of Hell.
Alastor helped Adam up and brought him into a hug. "My dear, it's alright now. I won't let him do that anymore."
Adam was shaking, trusting that Alastor wouldn't make fun of him for being so shaken up. As if the Radio Demon would ever do such a thing. "Adam, it's going to be okay. I'm here to protect you now." Adam finally allowed a few tears out and gave a shaky smile. "You always are. Thank you, Alastor. I hope this doesn't ruin our date."
"Of course not. And might I say, you look beautiful!" With a snap of his fingers, the dirt on Adam disappeared from his clothes leaving him in the nice dress shirt and pants he had dressed himself in.
"Should we head for the restaurant now? We do have reservations if you're still up for it."
"Fuck yes."
The date was splendid. The food was excellent. Adam seemed to have had a wonderful time and they were now in Alastor's bedroom.
The Radio Demon smirked at his lamb, who was sitting on his lap with a blush on his face. "Now, before we do anything, I must confess something." Alastor knew this was truly the moment of truth. Would Adam accept him for who he was?
"I can't have sex with you." He said bluntly. Adam tilted his head, blush fading as he listened to Alastor. "I just never felt that way before. Never. Even now, when I'm holding you and want to bite you, I'm not aroused in the slightest."
Adam nodded as if he just explained everything. "You're asexual. That's fine."
"I'm what now?" Alastor asked, completely confused by the term.
"Asexual. Someone who doesn't have a sexual attraction to anyone. I mean, there's a whole ass spectrum and I'm not the best fucking person to explain everything, but yeah. That's perfectly normal. There are plenty of people in Heaven who are asexual and who are still in healthy relationships. We don't have to have sex. I want to be with you because I love you."
Alastor chuckled. Who knew there was a word this entire time that explained why he was the way he was? "Oh, Adam. You really are the best thing to Fall into Hell."
Adam was back to blushing now, flustered by the compliment. "But I believe you misunderstood me." The sheep demon looked delightfully confused. "While I might not be doing anything, doesn't mean we can't have fun."
Alastor grinned wickedly as he summoned his shadow and picked Adam up. The sheep squeaked in surprise at the sudden motion. "Let me show you just how much fun we can have." The shadow directed Adam and had him turned around but not before stripping him naked. He was dropped back onto Alastor's lap who was quick to grab his wrists and pin them above with a tentacle.
"A—Alastor!" Adam moaned out when the Radio Demon licked up his neck. His lamb smelled delicious~.
"Yes, my dear? I hope this is to your liking." Adam moaned when his shadow twisted his nipples gently. Alastor didn't know that he would be so sensitive!
Adam rocked in his lap and Alastor watched fascinated as he got aroused. This was something that he caused and for some reason, it gave a possessive and obsessive need to be the only one to cause this. No one would ever be allowed to touch Adam this way. He would sooner burn all of Hell down before he would allow someone to touch what was his. Alastor's mother always said he never liked to share.
"More, please!" Adam begged. Alastor loved it when his lamb begged. He sounded beautiful. "More? Oh, but our first time should be gentle." He teased into the crook of his neck, knowing that would drive someone like Adam insane.
"I can take it! Please!" Adam begged.
"Now, don't be a brat or I might have to spank you like one. Your first time with me will be gentle and loving." Alastor's word was law and Adam could tell because he nodded pitifully.
While his shadow was busy deep-throating Adam, the Radio Demon licked and bit his way through Adam's neck. He tasted divine! A true delicacy! Experimenting, Alastor bit down hard, hard enough to draw blood. Adam moaned loud and low, his dick twitching in his shadow. Ah, so he liked biting? That was something they had in common.
Adam was thrashing in his hold so Alastor held him down by one hip while his shadow held him down on the other. The Radio Demon was stronger than Adam but the fact that his lamb didn't fight back when he was held down showed Alastor how much trust he had in him. Trust that he would take care of him.
It was a heady feeling. More tentacles appeared and each caressed exposed skin as Adam writhed in his grip.
To seal the whole thing, Alastor watched as he drank some tea. The sounds of begging and crying from pleasure were lovely. He folded a leg over his left and watched as his lamb moaned looking at him. Perhaps he was turned on by the fact that Alastor was watching and not actively participating. He could work with that.
Alastor watched as he ejaculated in his shadow, who gobbled it up with a smirk. "And now for the main event!" Adam was held aloft, tentacles holding him in the air. His shadow, equipped with the necessary parts, stretched the pent-up Adam.
His chubby body was on full display and it delighted Alastor to know that his lamb was plumping up. It means he wasn't starving himself as much.
"Look at you! All tied up for me to look at. I just want to put you on display, you're so beautiful!" Adam moaned, his voice muffled by a tentacle in his mouth.
"You looked stuffed, lamb. Do you want to be my feast?" Alastor asked as he casually sipped his tea.
His shadow seemed done prepping him and was now gently thrusting into him, just like Alastor ordered him to. Nice and slow. Gentle. It was sure to drive Adam mad with pleasure.
Adam moaned, his body rocking in the grip of his tentacles. "I love this look on you. A drooling mess. But it's mine, understood? I don't like to share, my lamb. If we are to do this, you must only do it with me." The tentacle in his mouth was brought out of his mouth and it turned Adam's head in his direction. "Well, Adam? Do you want to be mine? To hold? To love? To be partners in every sense of the word?"
Adam had just enough sense left in his brain to yell out, "Yes! I want you!" Alastor watched as he climaxed on the floor as his shadow finished inside him. Adam was gently placed in Alastor's arms and the Radio Demon took him to the bathroom. Yes, this lamb was his alone.
Hope that was good! Again, I tried to keep Alastor as canon as I could. Love you, anon!
#angelicradio#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin hotel#the radio demon#alastor#possesive love#asexual#tenticles#praise k!nk#alastor x adam#writer#send asks
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Attention
Summary:
Phantom likes attention.
If anyone were to watch how he performs at Rituals, how he interacts with screaming fans, blowing kisses and moving his body in ways that make them scream all the louder, it’s obvious.
He loves to be watched. So much so, that he’s jealous when other Ghouls get attention. He might argue until he’s purple in the face—or at least more than his unglamored skin already is—but Swiss knows, Swiss sees.
Pairing: Swiss/Phantom (Aeon)
Words: 3,017
Contains: Praise Kink, Mean Swiss, Dom/Sub, Safewords (Stoplight system), Masturbation, Longing, Top Swiss, Bottom Phantom, Humiliation, Degradation, Autofellatio, Flexibility, Jealous Phantom, Attention Whore Phantom, Subspace, Dacryphilia, Teasing, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Size Kink, PWP, Polyghouls, Voyuerism, Mildly Dubious Consent
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Hello hello! I’m back with another brain worm induced fic lol. So basically, I noticed during the Ritual I went to, that every time I tried to film Swiss, Phantom would try to walk in front of my phone or take over the shot himself, and I thought it was very funny, and apparently he was doing it at other Rituals too! Then I saw how bendy he was and how much he likes attention, and this idea spawned from there.
I will say, this does have a little bit of dubcon feelings to it, but I promise that Phantom is very much into this! I added the tag though just in case people might feel a little squicked about it!
I did not beta this, and also wrote it in a fugue state and finished it at 3 am, so please let me know if there are any glaring mistakes lol.
Read below the cut or on AO3 if you prefer that!
Phantom likes attention.
If anyone were to watch how he performs at Rituals, how he interacts with screaming fans, blowing kisses and moving his body in ways that make them scream all the louder, it’s obvious.
He loves to be watched. So much so, that he’s jealous when other Ghouls get attention. He might argue until he’s purple in the face—or at least more than his unglamored skin already is—but Swiss knows, Swiss sees.
At first he thought it was simply Phantom trying to move from one place to another on the stage in front of him, but as more Rituals went by and Swiss watched the lithe Quintessence Ghoul more and more, he started to notice a trend.
Any time a fan would aim their phone towards Swiss, Phantom would come stomping past, or even step directly to the edge of the stage, effectively blocking off any view of the Multi-Ghoul. He’d make a silent fuss as he bent his body or flipped his guitar around in a spectacle that the little Bug seemed to deem far more interesting than Swiss of all Ghouls. Swiss was stuck up on a platform in the back. Phantom was out in front, free to move around as he wished. The fans should want to film him.
It was adorable really, how the taste of the limelight gets the new Bug all jealous. But Swiss has been with the band long enough to know that everyone has favorites, and no matter what Phantom does, that won’t stop the fans from wanting to film Swiss.
So the little Bug likes attention, huh? Swiss smiles as he shakes his hips in tempo with his tambourine.
He can do that.
He just has to wait for the opportune moment.
Thankfully it comes not long after Swiss makes his plan. Phantom is a younger Ghoul by the rest of the pack’s standards, and his want—no need—for attention is so obvious now that Swiss has keyed into it.
Always talking, asking questions, commenting on anything any other Ghoul or even Papa is doing. Staring with those big round lavender eyes as he asks for cuddles or for someone to help him with something.
So easy. So predictable.
He starts giving the Bug just the lightest bits of attention. Little bits that are sure to leave Phantom wanting more.
Casually asking what book he’s reading from across their respective bunks on the tour bus, watching those lavender eyes glow as Phantom explains the contents of the book Swiss couldn’t care less about. Giving Phantom little bites of his road snacks, something that’s normally off limits to any of the other Ghouls, offered like a secret. A gentle grip to the back of the Quintessence Ghoul’s neck and a soft, “Good job out there,” after a Ritual.
Swiss is a Multi Ghoul after all. He’s good at playing anyone like an instrument.
Swiss is careful not to give too much, just enough to leave the little Bug wanting and nothing more. It’s a delicate balance, almost a fun little game for Swiss to pass the time with. Thinking and planning on what he’s going to do next to make Phantom want his attention more and more.
He knows it’s working by the smell. The desperate little scent that’s downright delicious. The way that Phantom keeps trying to get closer to Swiss, sitting or laying down next to him with as little space between them as possible; trying to twine his tail with Swiss, as if it will change Swiss’ mind when he decides to finally move.
The stupidly cute thing about Phantom is that as much as he loves attention, he doesn’t like to use his words and ask for it. He’s stubborn that way, and Swiss intends to break him.
Finally, the opportunity comes when a hotel is booked after a venue, Copia too goddamn tired to want to even think about getting on the road again until tomorrow, and he passes out hotel keycards with a tired expression, reminding his Ghouls not to stay out too late or cause any irreparable damage.
He’s roomed with Rain, and he notices that Mountain is paired with Phantom.
It all comes together too easily, really. Far easier than it should have, but that just means that his plan has worked.
Half of the pack decides to go out for a few drinks before settling down, the rush of energy from the Ritual still singing in their blood, but Phantom—who normally joins them—claims he has a headache and says he’s going to turn in for the night. Swiss doesn’t believe it for a moment.
It’s as easy as anything to get Mountain to trade key cards with him, especially as he claims he’s going to head back to the hotel early, and wants to check on Phantom.
“Going to finally give him what he’s been asking for?” Mountain asks behind the lip of his beer bottle, and Swiss has to laugh.
“Please, Mount, I don’t kiss and tell,” he teases, slipping the keycard into his pocket.
“That’s a lie,” Mountain comments back, but says nothing else, nodding his head as a goodbye before Swiss turns to leave the bar.
It’s thankfully a short cab ride back to the hotel, and Swiss gives the tired woman at the front desk a tooth full smile as he passes towards the elevator. He wonders if she’ll be the one who will be getting noise complaints later on.
Finally, without much fanfare, he’s right outside the hotel room. Even without being inside, he can just faintly smell desire sharp desire radiating through the door. He stands to enjoy it for one long moment, before slipping the card into the lock.
The click of the door opening makes him smirk, and he can’t help the anticipation. All the work is finally going to pay off.
And oh, pay off it does.
The heady scent hits Swiss the same time the visual does, and he can’t help but moan over a filthy chuckle as he looks at the little Bug, his cock already starting to perk up in his jeans.
Legs bent nearly up to his ears as he desperately tugs at his cock, tail wrapped around his own thigh and moans muffled by cute little fangs digging into his plush lips. The slick sounds of him frantically jacking himself off nearly makes Swiss laugh again, but he simply watches for a long moment, endlessly entertained by the fact that Phantom is so wrapped up in himself, that he hasn’t even heard Swiss yet.
“Headache, huh?” He finally says before closing the door and dropping his human glamour. A fleeting thought crosses his mind about leaving it open, but no, he’s not about to share what he worked so hard for to any human who might walk by.
Phantom’s eyes shoot open, and he gasps sharply before trying to scramble himself together, like he wasn’t just desperately jacking himself off. “Swiss!” He shouts, breathless, pretty doe eyes so wide and already watery.
Oh, Swiss is going to ruin him.
He approaches a few steps, tail swaying like a predator toying his prey but ends up watching the little Bug from the archway into the room proper, crossing his arms and propping himself against the wall, a knowing smirk that he couldn’t stop if he tried stretching his lips.
“Came to check on you, little Bug.....” he says softly. “Seems like you’re feeling better?”
Phantom has a blanket thrown haphazardly thrown over his crotch, and he’s blushing so hard he’s nearly glowing. It’s cute, the little display, and Swiss aches to pull the blanket away, but he refrains, stays in his place and looks.
The Quintessence Ghoul starts to babble, “I—w-well....I was.....you—the Ritual?”
“Pent up?” Swiss supplies with an arch of his brow.
Phantom’s head drops and he looks away, digging a fang into his plush lip again. Swiss wonders if he can make Phantom pierce it hard enough to make it bleed.
“Interesting.....” Swiss says, finally pushing himself off the wall, moving into the room. He stops looking directly at the lithe Ghoul, pretending to contemplate his movements as he reaches the chair in the corner. “And here I was, thinking that you were hurting....”
“I—“ Phantom hesitates, as Swiss pulls the chair to settle it in front of the bed where Phantom sits, still flabbergasted, trying to explain himself.
It’s so cute.
Swiss wants to see him cry.
“But you’re hurting in another way, aren’t you, Bug?” Swiss asks, settling himself down in the chair, feigning nonchalance, inspecting his fingernails as he settles with one knee draped over another. It’s tight against his half hard cock, but he’ll deal with it for the moment.
A whimper is what he gets in return, and another smile stretches its way across the Multi Ghoul’s lips.
So easy.
“It’s a shame you didn’t ask.....” his tone is light, then darkens as he flicks his eyes to Phantom, who’s mouth is dropped open slightly as he stares at Swiss, almost as if he can’t believe that the Multi Ghoul is here. He’s almost surprised that Phantom hasn’t tried to demand that he leave, but the tent in the blanket covering the little Ghoul’s lap tells Swiss everything. “But you don’t like to ask for attention, do you?”
Phantom’s mouth gapes and closes like a goldfish for a few moments, trying to decide what to say, maybe try to defend himself, but Swiss isn’t interested.
He goes in for the kill.
He moves, leaning his elbows onto his knees and staring at Phantom with sharp red eyes. “You like to demand attention, don’t you, little Bug?” He growls. “You like to take it when it doesn’t belong to you....”
Phantom swallows sharply before whining again, working his hands into the blankets, squirming at the intense gaze. “I—“
“Stomping in front of fans when they’re trying to take pictures of me. When they’re trying to film me.” Swiss outright growls, and he doesn’t miss the way Phantom’s covered cock twitches at the words, even as he tries to come up with a silly, stupid excuse that Swiss doesn’t care about.
“I’m sorry Swiss, I just—“
“Well you have my attention now, Bug,” Swiss interrupts, before settling against the back of the chair again, his arms draped over the armrests. “What are you going to do with it?”
Phantom gapes at him again, like he honestly can’t believe what’s happening, before he licks his already slick lips, enough that it makes Swiss groan a little under his breath. Phantom chirps at the sound, and Swiss chuffs lowly back.
“Color, Bug.” Swiss says, and that seems to knock Phantom out of his surprised headspace.
“Green,” he says softly, still kneading nervously at the sheets.
Swiss quirks a brow. “Bug....”
“Green, Sir....” Phantom replies, his lithe little chest huffing with pants.
Eyeing him, Swiss says. “You tell me if that changes.”
“Yes, Sir.” Without any hesitation.
Swiss smiles. “Good boy.”
The whimper he gets in return makes the smile widen.
“Show me, Bug......let me see how desperate I got your cock.”
Phantom whines and scrambles to follow directions, and Swiss relaxes further into the chair, unabashedly reaching to knead at his cock through his jeans. What an easy thing Phantom is.
When said Ghoul pulls the blanket back and reveals his still twitching, wet cock, Swiss licks at his lips before cooing. “Aw, look at that.....so hard aren’t you?”
“So hard, Sir....” Phantom replies, his hands still shaking at his sides. His tail has wrapped around his middle, his torso lithe enough that he can wrap around it almost twice.
Swiss bets he could wrap his hands around it and almost have his fingers touch.
Oh, but what a good boy he is for not touching himself before Swiss says he can. He tells Phantom so, and it gets him a keening little moan.
“Sw-Swiss...”
“I know, Bug,” Swiss can’t help the condescension out of his tone. The wanting, pathetic little whines he’s plucking out of the Quintessence Ghoul are oh so yummy, and he wants to hear more.
“You just can’t help but be a slave to your cock, can you? So brainless and horny aren’t you?”
“Uh-huh,” replies Phantom dumbly after another thick swallow, and Swiss doesn’t reprimand him for the lack of ‘Sir’ due to how blissed out he already looks just by Swiss’ words alone.
So damn easy. What a power trip.
“Why don’t you show me how you were touching that little dick before I caught you?” Swiss says easily, already knowing the Quintessence Ghoul will do just as he asks.
Phantom shudders, but flashes those doe eyes and pouts those plump little lips at him as he shifts back against the pillows and the headboard, throwing his knees up so easily and smoothly it makes Swiss’ cock throb even as phantom mutters, “Not little...”
“Oh?” Swiss archs a brow. “I think it is....bet I could cover the whole thing with just one of my hands....”
And that gets the little Bug to start jerking again, whining and screwing his eyes shut at the slick sounds that start up again so very quickly. Swiss chuckles, and it makes Phantom squirm and moan, his tail shifting to wrap around his own thigh.
Swiss can’t help but be cruel. “Eyes on me, Bug.....you wanted my attention and if you squander it now I’ll fucking get up and leave....”
“No!” Phantom gasps, eyes shooting open. Swiss groans, his cock kicking as the smaller Ghoul opens his legs wider, pulls them back even more so Swiss can really see how he’s stripping his cock, hurtling himself towards an orgasm that the Multi Ghoul isn’t so sure that he wants to happen just yet. He’s practically folded himself in half now, and damn does Swiss want to tease the needy little thing.
“Look at yourself.....look how needy you are and how wet you’re making yourself.....so pathetic....” He sneers. “You could have had my hand or my mouth on your cock if you would have just asked... but now we’re here. Watch as you jerk yourself stupid, Phantom.”
Little Bug follows the order beautifully, tilting his head down to watch himself jerk, taking a moment every few strokes to smear more of the pre-cum that’s blurting out of his slit and smear it down his shaft for a smoother glide, little grunts and moans coming unbidden from his throat, like he can’t even help it.
He’s so pathetic and needy. It’s cute.
Swiss watches, rapt, as Phantom tugs himself closer and closer to orgasm, and when the little Ghoul’s tongue lolls out of his mouth, Swiss finally notices something that he can’t help but voice as his own cock spills pre-cum into his underwear and sends a shiver down his spine.
“Sathanas....looks like you’re flexible enough to suck your own cock if you wanted...”
It was meant to tease, meant to send Phantom closer and closer to the edge he’s so desperately gunning for, but Swiss’ eyes widen, caught off guard for the first time tonight when Phantom shifts, nearly locking his knees behind his ears and leaning down to lick filthy and wet over his cock slit, whining sharply before fluttering his eyes shut and bending himself just that little bit more to take the leaking head of his cock into his mouth.
“Fuck~” Swiss swears sharply, unable to stop himself from kneading hard at his clothed cock as he watches Phantom give himself a firm suck, sure by now that a wet spot is forming on the denim, but he’s not going to take his eyes off of Phantom to check, not in a million years.
The little Ghoul moans at the feeling of his own mouth, and while he doesn’t seem to be able to get more than the head into it, that doesn’t stop him from sucking and licking at it like the worlds most pornographic lollipop, keening and moaning and dripping saliva and pre-cum all over himself. One of his hands still tugs freely at the rest of his cock, and Swiss feels like his head is going to explode.
Fucking hell, the surprises his little Bug has.
As wonderful and mind-numbingly erotic the sight of Phantom desperately sucking at his own cock is, the noises coming out of the Quintessence Ghoul’s mouth are telling, and Swiss still doesn’t want to let him cum just yet, so despite himself, he barks out, “That’s enough, Phantom.”
He groans when Phantom doesn’t stop, too much into himself and his singleminded quest for cumming down his own throat.
But he can’t have that. So Swiss decides to take matters into his own hands. He stands suddenly, and kneels onto the bed, reaching to quickly thread his fingers into Phantom’s soft hair, pulling him back with a sharp movement. He growls at the little Ghoul’s whine at dislodging him so close to his orgasm, but it turns into a cruel smirk as Phantom blinks up at him with oh so wet eyes, lips swollen and face flushed dark from the exertion and pleasure. “Such a dirty little pathetic slut,” he taunts, gripping Phantom’s hair tighter in his fist just to see him wince and hear him whine, the sound high and feminine and absolutely delicious. “When the Hell did I say you could orgasm....?”
It seems to take a few moments for Phantom to register what he’s said, and Swiss revels isn’t he fact that he’s gotten the little Bug so deep so quickly. “B-but....” Phantom’s lip wobbles, and Swiss groans, the tears that have gathered at the edges of Phantom’s eyes finally streaming down his cheeks.
Swiss has a wonderfully terrible idea then, and he smiles, all fang as he reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone.
“Do it again Bug,” he croons, aiming the phone at the little Ghoul. “And I’ll make sure that everyone sees.”
Phantom can’t disobey if he tried.
#ghost bc#the band ghost#nameless ghouls#swiss/phantom#swiss/aeon#swiss army ghoul#swiss ghoul#phantom ghoul#aeon ghoul#swiss x phantom#swiss x aeon#phantom x Swiss#aeon x Swiss#ghost fanfiction#ghost band fanfic#my writing
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Tagged for fuck it Friday by @daffi-990 @rewritetheending @devirnis @lover-of-mine @thewolvesof1998! I have two little scraps of dad themed drabbles I’ve posted here before (and have not tagged well enough to track down and link lol) and I thought I’d add another and post them to ao3. Three seems like a good number? Anyway here’s a bit of Ramon watching Buck and Eddie interact.
Eddie takes half a sip and then makes a scrunched up, laughing kind of face. “Oh god, that’s so- Here, Buck, you take this one.” He passes the mug along into his companion’s hands, keeping the one made for Buck to himself. He sips at it cautiously, then takes bigger gulps of the more reasonably sweetened liquid. “Dad, you trying to give me cavities?”
“You used to like it that way,” Ramon says, uncomfortably settling onto one of the porch chairs, trying not to sound defensive.
“When I was fifteen,” Eddie laughs as he says it, but it's a sound more amused than mocking. “My taste buds have matured,” he says, elbowing at Buck who's happily drinking the over-sweet coffee in his hands.
Buck snorts. “Okay, mister venti iced caramel macchiato-”
“That's-” Eddie flaps a hand at a grinning Buck. “Those aren't even coffee to me, that's- it's a dessert drink.”
Buck presses his still smiling lips together, humming, and nods with raised eyebrows. “That's why you ask for the extra pump of caramel, then.”
“Dessert drink,” Eddie protests, somewhat weakly, hiding in his mug.
“And the whipped cream on top-”
“Oh my god,” Eddie groans, throwing another elbow that Buck easily dodged. “You're terrible. You're so mean to me.”
Buck grins, eyes narrowed, head tilted. “Yeah? And who's buying you those dessert drinks, babe?” Buck turns to Ramon, then. “If I let him do the coffee run he gets plain dark roast with a little half and half-”
“Which I enjoy!”
“And then he pouts about it until I share some of mine.”
“Mean to me,” Eddie repeats, but the look he gives Buck is terribly fond.
Tagging @malewifediaz @eddiebabygirldiaz @shitouttabuck @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @homerforsure @shortsighted-owl <3
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pink camellias || Chapter 1: hyacinth
Chapter Summary:
purple hyacinth: sorrow
Wordcount: 3.2k
Read on AO3 || Masterlist
Pairing:
Bakugou Katsuki / Reader
Tags/CW:
royalty au, inspired by Mulan, war and its consequences, violence, childhood friends to strangers to companions to lovers (i am sorry), Angst, Acts of Service, Character Death (Major, and Minor), swordfights, misogyny, f!reader, kidnapping, implied torture, let me know if I missed anything lol
Note:
I got too impatient, so, I'm posting the first chapter today lol, still, i hope you enjoy reading it!
You opened the windows as soon as you woke up. As the soft sunlight warmed your skin, you watched the breeze rustle the flowers of the garden. Beyond that garden was a beautifully constructed posh house, barely blocking your view to the adjacent village. The rows of different houses gave the scenery a special kind of feel. The view was breathtaking, the bustling of all these people making you feel alive under your skin.
You stood by the window, trying to discern the lives of the common people below you in the valley. There was a small stripe of forest bordering the village and the mansion, which stood atop a hill.
“I wonder how life is down there”, you mumbled before looking back to your bed.
The softest of fabric was spread over the king-sized bed and you slowly stepped closer, your hand enjoying the feel of silk between your fingers. Then with a tiny jump you threw yourself onto the mattress, sinking deeply in its comfort and warmth.
With a sigh, you tried to imagine living in such a village. Maybe you would operate a bakery, making tasty bread and confects. You would wake up early, which you usually would never even think about, but this was only imaginary. If you were lucky, you could watch the sunrise for some time, while waiting for the dough to rise. Your hands would be kneading and caressing the dough into different, but nonetheless tasty goodies for the day, the lit oven warming your back with a gentle sigh. It would hug the soft dough and prepare it for the day.
After the bread and sweets would be ready, you would open up the shop, awaiting the first jingle of the door. You would, as usual, greet the oncoming customers, the ones you saw regularly with some deep questions, and the newer ones with some welcoming small talk. Your heart would beat in happiness every time something of yours would find its home somewhere else. And if everything got sold, you would close the shop and head to the market to replenish some of your necessities. If not, you would go around and give the bread to someone who would need it at the moment, not wanting to let anyone go hungry.
You imagined such a routine to be relaxing and enjoyable, especially connecting with so many people. The wish to go out and change something for yourself lit a spark, even if the possibility of leaving this place without guard would never happen.
Some day you would wake up with the hope of appearing in another place, like the characters in your stories. Landing inside a novel with the knowledge of every scenario, being actively a part of some grand scheme or an adventure. But no matter how long you kept your eyes closed, you stayed in your little bland life.
Sometimes you would dare to write down some ideas, with your scrawly font. And while doing so you blamed yourself for not listening to your teacher when learning how to write. But you wrote. You wrote every little idea that emerged in your little head. Huffing and puffing when the intricate dreams vanished after waking up.
With a low grumble, you stared at your ceiling. You grew weary of only imagining things and felt the urge, the desire to actually live your own adventure.
“My Lady, I’ve brought water to wash up”, the voice of your maid Hana sounded before she entered the room.
You furrowed your brows, wondering how long you had been lying there, and if you would succeed in sneaking out, if your maid wouldn’t be so punctual. But you only greeted her and rolled from the bed to walk towards a stool.
While you were washing your face, Hana brushed your hair gently and got rid of all the knots taking residence on top of your head. You looked into the mirror, feeling the soft towel on your skin.
This was your face, even if you wished you were another person. No matter what you think, the baby fat on your face would not dwindle until much later. For a moment you wondered how soon your birthday was.
“You should go to the dining room to eat some breakfast, my Lady.”, Hana told you, after helping you into a simple baby blue wrapper. Something simple for your indoor endeavors, as you did not plan on leaving this mansion any time soon.
With a nod you made your way to the dining room, greeting your father, who was leaning over some papers spread over the table.
“Good morning sweetie, did you sleep well?”, he asked while stretching his arms for a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“Yes, thank you for asking, Father.”, you smiled with a slight crook, before turning to greet your mother the same way.
After the greetings, you took a seat and started eating your breakfast.
Despite the current silence at the table you were quite attached to your parents, as they were to you. They both were loving and warm and so doting on their only daughter. And who were you to resist getting spoiled like that? You would do anything for your parents, and even if you longed to go outside and experience new things, you were aware how your disappearance would break their hearts, and yours.
“Ah, we’re supposed to return to the palace today, did you prepare your luggage, or did you forget again?”, your mother started speaking with an amused smile after finishing the meal.
“Mother! Of course, I prepared everything! But, I’m still going to ensure that everything has its place.”, you hurriedly responded and jumped from your seat. Soft chuckle followed you out of the room.
How could you forget the return to the palace? Your father was the marquess and your mother attended to the queen herself. And despite your current young age, you wanted to make a good impression on the people living there, even if they may have already formed one around your person. But nothing speaks against working to better those impressions.
With the help of your maid, you threw everything you may need in that visit into a tiny case, fitting for your tiny stuff. And when Hana suggested you take your stuffed cat with you, you vehemently refused. Because what if someone saw it and thought of you as inferior? Especially little kids your age, they were usually the most vicious and you refused to be the victim of their bullying.
After making sure everything was in order, you let your maid help you into some outdoor gown with the same blue color as the other one. With a fitting pair of gloves and a bonnet, you were ready to leave your home for your stay at the palace.
Clutching Hana’s hand you made your way outside to the awaiting carriage. The coachman already heaving their luggage into its respective space. But you didn’t need his help to get into the carriage, not even Hana’s help. You grabbed some of the fabric of your dress and took the large step with one stride. The next step let you tumble into the insides of the carriage, where you immediately acted like everything went as planned.
Hana took the seat in front of you and the car slowly left the property. You knew that your parents were in the carriage in front of yours, so you did not fret and simply enjoyed the passing sights of the marquisate.
After a couple of minutes, someone slightly shook you and you blearily opened your eyes. You didn’t remember closing them in the first place. Did you already arrive at your destination? That was weird, you thought the way would take some hours. But beggars shouldn’t be choosers and you didn’t mind that very convenient time skip of sleep. Even if you now felt tired and grumpy.
With half-closed lids you let Hana lead you to the inside of the palace, where you already occupy a room. This wasn’t the first time your character visited the palace, but every time felt like it was. And no matter how much you wanted to look around, you felt drained and wanted nothing more than to continue your nap in peace.
The moment you stepped into the room, you threw yourself onto the bed, without care of your bonnet falling off your head. But for some reason you could not fall asleep again, making you whine into the soft pillows, before sitting up.
And before you could even plan anything for the afternoon, someone started knocking on your door.
“Hello! We were wondering if you wanted to play knights with us?”, a boy your age with bright green eyes, Izuchan, asked you with a smile, the moment you opened the door. Another was lingering with crossed arms and a slight scowl.
You turned to look at Hana, who just nodded with a sigh before you also nodded to the boys in front of you. “Yes! I’d love to participate in a game!”
With that, you followed them outside, where the sun shone upon your heads and warmed you slightly.
They immediately started clashing their wooden swords and began screaming something about ‘villains’ and ‘crime’. You wondered when it would be your turn, but you didn’t hold a wooden sword in your hands.
For some reason you felt the need to fix it, so you started wandering to the training camp of the real knights, looking for some kind of sword you might be able to use.
The only thing you discovered were of course actual knights in training. Their movements and the swing of the sword in their hands were mesmerizing and you could not help yourself but stare. Their flow seemed like a hidden dance, its steps only obtained by the truly worthy.
You felt trapped in watching the blades clash, eliciting bursts of tiny stars. A desire to wield this magic grew in you and a grin formed itself across your face. Now you fully understood the reason everyone admired knights. And you desired to be one.
You barely managed to rip your gaze from their dangerous dance only to see the object you were seeking only minutes ago. Without a second thought, you grabbed the wooden sword to return to the fighting boys. Only to see them running towards the training grounds, their gaze focused on something behind you.
And what were you supposed to do but follow them? So you ran with them towards a group of people converging around a massive person.
“Allmight!”, Izuchan gasped and started talking about the best knight in this whole kingdom and you couldn’t do anything but listen with rapt attention and interest.
Kacchan tried to get to the overrun knight, but before he had the possibility of reaching him, Allmight found the right timing to detach himself from the crowd and thus was missed when the boy finally broke through.
The blond started raging, concealing his disappointment in a fit of anger and screams. The other boy tried to calm him down, yelling ‘Kacchan’ to get his attention.
Undeterred by his outburst you gripped the wooden sword tighter in your hand and declared something to him, maybe you hoped to calm him down or to distract him from his missing hero.
“I am going to be a knight! One better than you!”, you declared war on these two young boys, who were supposed to be your friends, but your ambitions seemed to destroy any semblance of kinship.
“Hah? A girl can’t be a knight, are you stupid?”, Kacchan immediately replied, his anger only simmering, but directed at you nonetheless.
“You’re stupid!”
While you could have replied with a better comeback, annoyance made your brain empty, only the desire to show him filling you to the brim.
Without waiting for the next words of this brash boy, you turned and ran towards the toy dummy, which has been abandoned offside the actual training grounds. You didn’t care if your dress stained, the seams filling with mud, as you hit the dummy repeatedly, acting as if you were already a seasoned knight.
The two boys joined you soon after. And while the blond and you could not do anything but push each other into anger, you still played with your wooden swords, even if any of you would have dared to say that it has been a fight for life and death.
And if your maid clicked her tongue and reprimanded you for ruining your dress, you only responded with your dreams and hopes of becoming a knight. Out of necessity, your maid had, soon after that conversation full of sighs and aspirations, sewn you some proper clothing resembling the ones of a knight.
With your pants and shirt, you continued to fight your friends at every possibility, even if it meant getting stained in blue blood underneath your skin and ripped hair between your fingernails.
***
The seasons have passed and you still lived at the palace with your mother. You spent your daily life studying everything this place had to offer and everything your duty obliged you. But the moment you managed to free yourself some time, the people found you in a pair of pants, swinging that old wooden sword with your friends.
Finally, you had finished your reading for the day, getting some free time for your extracurricular activities. But before the teacher could properly dismiss you, your maid knocked and entered the room, a grave expression marring her face.
“Miss, I’m afraid, your mother is at death's door…”, she started speaking, but you jumped from your chair, grabbing the fabric of your dress to allow you to run as fast as you managed.
Your mother, your dear, loving mother, laid there, unmoving in her too-big bed. Her pale frame almost sunk into the soft fabric of the bedding and you were afraid. You were so afraid to step too close and to hurt her.
Still, you carefully sat at the end of the bed, taking her hand in yours, as soft as your rough hands cared to achieve. You only had eyes for her, everyone around you nothing but a blur. Nonetheless, you caught some pieces of information from the people hurrying around you in a senseless frenzy. The white plague. Your mother has been suffering under the act of consumption for longer than any of the people around her anticipated. Her paleness mistaken for lack of sun and worry. Her feverishly red cheeks and lips simply for a mistake in the chosen shade.
You wondered how long she had been plagued by this illness. How long had she been suffering without anyone taking notice? Had she already known prior to this?
Suddenly her lack of presence in your life in the last couple of months started to make sense. She knew you would have noticed her lack of energy immediately. How could you not? Your mother used to be the sun in any dark room. Her presence soothing and warm, even if bright. This woman in front of you was nothing but a pale, sick shadow of her old self. And it hurt you.
It hurt to see the most important person in your life suffer and on the brink of death. Oh, how you would do anything to soothe her aches and take her pains away.
Something cold dripped onto your hands, but you were not able to find the source of those tiny drops. Not until you took a shuddering gasp and a sob broke free, your lungs yearning to scream and cry.
Even if you grew weary and bored of your life, you cared for this woman, it drove you crazy. How were you supposed to move on after this?
People grabbed your sobbing shoulders, but you refused to let go of her frail hand. Someone was whispering empty words into you and you didn’t react with anything but a heartbreaking wail, lowering your head against her hand, pressing her cold skin against your cheeks.
Despite your vehement protest, someone managed to loosen your grip around your dead mother, leading you into your room. After getting pushed onto your own bed, everything became a blur.
You barely noticed getting moved around or getting into a carriage. The only thing you numbly remember was the regret of not telling your friends about your hasty departure. Even if you yourself had not known about it until you arrived back at the mansion you used to live at. You supposed this was your actual home, even if the palace felt more like it.
After your arrival at the mansion, you refused to eat and did not leave your room under any circumstance. At some point, your father's worry grew and he started trying to lure you with different things. Most of them got no reaction from you at all.
“Hello dear. How have you been?”, he asked with a soft voice, taking a seat at the end of the bed. You gave him a tired smile as an answer, your voice itching and scratching.
“Good, good.”, he nodded, taking your hand in his. “I know I have said it multiple times already, but you need to get out a bit… I know, I know. But she would not want you to suffer in such a dark room.” He tried to persuade you, already knowing your answer, even just with your nonverbal facial expressions.
“How about this: You still want to be a knight, don’t you? Well, then we shall get you some proper sword master to teach you. Can’t have you swing a wooden sword without instructions forever.”, and his suggestion made you perk up.
You still wanted to master swordsmanship, but your father had never supported that particular endeavor of yours. Until to this day, it appeared. Even if the circumstances should have been better, your mother should have been there to celebrate that milestone with you. Still, you knew she would have wanted you to run towards your dreams, even if she wasn’t there. You decided to dedicate this work of life to her before you agreed to your father's suggestion with a slight nod and a hesitant smile.
And your agreement seemed to spark some happiness in the eyes of your old man, as his smile gained that special depth. Without further words, because you simply didn’t need to, he pecked your forehead, before standing up. And if he pulled the curtains open and let you bask in the warmth of the estranged sun before he left your room, then so be it. Because this time, the sun didn’t symbolize another day without her, but a new opportunity dedicated to her, in remembrance of her. Starting with that day, you promised yourself to think of her every time you held a sword. Your dear beloved memories with her would lend you whatever strength you would have needed in any possible situation.
Your gaze wanders out of your window, into the beautiful garden. And you were mesmerized by the whipping flowers, almost like it was your first time seeing them. With this breathtaking, familiar view you held your promise close to your heart and planned on never letting go.
#bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugou katuski x reader#bakugou x you
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Chapter One - Wistful Thinking
Pairing: Bully!Dabi x Fem!Reader, (3rd Person)
Summary: If a boy is picking on you, it means he likes you. She could almost laugh. By that logic, Dabi must’ve been fucking in love with her. That thought was what finally made the tears start to spill. Not because of how ridiculous it was or how isolating it felt.
But because it was exactly what she wanted.
CW: Alternate Universe - No Quirks (My Hero Academia), Dubious Consent, Unhealthy Relationships, Bullying, Manipulation, Humiliation, Childhood Friends, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Power Play, Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm. Future Tags: Drugs, Alcohol, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Attempted Sexual Assault, Rough Sex, Hate Sex, Smut, Porn With Plot, Explicit Sexual Content, Angst and Porn, Sadism
A/N: In celebration of Dabi's dance being animated, I'm posting the first chapter of a request for a Bully!Dabi fic that should've been a one-shot, but just went completely off the rails (where have we heard that one before? Lol). Currently, the fic will be completed at three chapters, but I actually really like the idea so it' not impossible that I might expand it further once Play Nice is completed. ^_^
Read Full Chapter on AO3
[excerpt]
If a boy is picking on you, it means he likes you.
That’s what her mother always used to say.
“I told you to get me orange juice.”
She flinched at the venom in Dabi’s tone as he glared up at her from his desk. She stood in front of him, ready for her reprimand like a dutiful employee. A good little slave.
His eyes narrowed when she didn’t answer, “Didn’t I?”
“Y-Yes!” she yelped.
“So what the fuck is this?” he demanded, grabbing the can she’d presented to him and waving it in her face.
She dropped her gaze to the ground, hands wringing anxiously. It wasn’t just the heat of Dabi’s glare or the bite of his words that was making it hard to stay standing. The sadistic amusement of his friends, Jin and Keigo, perched lazily on the desks around him were just as painful. Not to mention the rest of their class watching on with smug little smiles and whispers.
“T-They were out of orange juice,” she stammered, “So I got you orange-flavored tea…”
Dabi watched her, waiting for any more qualifications, any last excuses. But her eyes stayed down, lips stayed shut. The only change was in her now shuffling feet.
So he popped open the tab and took a drink.
“Hmm.”
Hope swelled in her chest. Maybe she’d done enough this time. She looked up tentatively. Bored, piercing blue awaited her. He held her there for a moment, letting her think, letting her settle into relief and security.
Catching her in a trap.
He smirked.
“It’s fucking disgusting.”
And threw the open can straight at her chest.
It hit her with an audible force, dousing her uniform and splashing all over the desk and floor.
Jin snorted out a laugh, “Oh shit.”
Keigo next to him was noticeably silent, just watching for her reaction.
“Seriously, how can you be this useless?” Dabi spat, pulling his legs off the desk before any of the tea could spread to his shoes.
Dripping, she tried desperately to fight the quiver from her lip. It was not a fight she was winning.
He stood with an annoyed sigh, “Now I’ve gotta go get it myself. Happy?
She didn’t dare respond, not with that familiar lump growing larger and larger in her throat. If she so much as breathed in that moment, she’d cry for sure. And crying in front of Dabi would only make things worse.
So much worse.
“Better clean up your mess before class starts if you don’t want to get in trouble,” he called back as he made his way to the door, Jin close behind him.
Keigo stayed for a moment, watching with furrowed brows as she knelt down on trembling legs into the spreading orange-tinted puddle.
“Oi, Bird Brain. Let’s go!”
He quickly turned on his heel, following the call without a second thought.
She picked the can up, fruitlessly trying to stop the spill — it was practically empty at this point.
If a boy is picking on you, it means he likes you.
She could almost laugh. By that logic, Dabi must’ve been fucking in love with her.
That thought was what finally made the tears start to spill. Not because of how ridiculous it was or how isolating it felt.
But because it was exactly what she wanted.
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#dabi#touya todoroki#dabi x reader#touya todoroki x oc#touya todoroki x reader#dabi x oc#dabi x female reader#bully!dabi#smut#dabi smut#touya todoroki smut#touya smut#quirkless au#mha#bnha#mha dabi#bnha dabi#burnt bridges fic#mha smut#bnha smut
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The sob story with this is that I wrote this yesterday and it got deleted before I could save it. I wanted to die cry, basically. Somehow I managed to re-create most of it, after working on it all damn day. (I basically ended up writing over 6,000+ words in one day. Yowza) I still feel as though the first version was better, but…no one knows that but me, I suppose. (And my partner, who got to read it right before the horrors happened). Regardless, I am proud of this and proud of myself for not giving up when it really would have been easy to. So huzzah to the fickle hand of fate and all that stuff.
For Suptober 2023 prompt “starlight”
I tag @fellshish and @canonblastedships and @clarkenting for being super cool reblog buddies, lol (which is just a thing I made up) This is the longest destiel fic I’ve written yet and it will be my first official AO3 destiel! (As soon as I remember how to do that, oy)
Edited: Now with Spiffy AO3 Link! Here!
The Starlight
There were three types of people that visited the Starlight Lounge — drunks, people desperate to score, and the employees that made their bread and butter trying to tame the other two.
Dean Winchester, unfortunately, was a member of that third group. Oh, sure, Dean had been known to put away a fair bunch of liquor in his day, and sure, Dean had definitely been known to do the Bedroom Rodeo whenever the opportunity presented itself. Hell, back when he’d first started at the Starlight he’d often been three types at once. Work, drink, get laid. Sometimes, not even in that order.
But that was past Dean. Current and newly mature Dean (hah) just wanted to work, go home, eat and fall into his bed. Working at the Starlight wasn’t that bad – it had fairly decent pay and it was often interesting. And like everyone else, Dean had bills to pay and he gave more than his fair share to Sammy. Not that Sam really needed it anymore; he was busy working as a law clerk downtown, putting himself through school. But still, Dean wanted to help as much as he could and besides it was his brotherly duty. Heh. Duty.
Tonight, due to the cold and rainy weather, the bar was fairly empty and business had been slow. There was only one of his regulars, a writer by the name of Chuck crying into his notebooks at the back of the bar. To be honest, Dean had never seen Chuck write a damn thing but the man sure could put scotch away like a pro. There was also a young couple making out in one of the booths near the restrooms. He’d been keeping an eye on them most of the night, actually, making sure no one lost any clothing. The Starlight didn’t need a public indecency charge on the books. At least, not so soon since the last one, at any rate.
Dean yawned and finished cleaning up the bar, hoping Chuck and the couple on their way to Soft-Porn Town would soon be leaving. Maybe Dean could even push them on their way a bit early, so he could get home at a decent time, for once. As he walked over towards Chuck to perhaps lightly suggest the writer hit the road, the double doors of the bar blew open – bringing in the rain, the cold rush of the wind and a new customer in a beige trench coat with seriously fucked up hair. Great.
Dean sighed and turned back around as the new guy slumped onto the first stool at the bar. His dark brown, messed up hair looked even worse up close, and he had a scowl on his face as he glared down at the bar in front of him.
“Whiskey. Neat,” Messy-Hair said, voice low and very rumbly.
Dean pulled down a clean glass and poured some of their nicer whiskey into it. Dude looks like he could afford it, at any rate. He had a nice suit on under the coat, now that Dean could properly see it and his watch was one of those big clunky things that could probably tell the time on Jupiter or some shit like that. The man’s hand reaches for the glass before Dean has barely pushed it forward. He throws back the drink in record time and hits the bar with it so that it makes a loud thunk.
“Another one.”
Dean shrugged as the man kept glaring down at the bar as though it contained all the answers to life and everything else; Dean knew for a fact that it didn’t. It didn’t even have a ‘42’ scratched into it or anything. (RIP Douglas Adams)
This time the man just wraps his hand around the glass, his fingers clutching at it and woah, Dean thinks, dude’s got some huge fucking hands. They’re big and they’re strong looking. The fingers are nice and long and graceful and oh, oh, oh. Maybe it’s a kink, or maybe it’s a preference, but Dean loves hands. Manly looking mitts like Messy-Hair here and even smaller, more delicate hands like on most women, with pretty nail colors. But Dean’s not choosy.
He sees motion out of the corner of his eye and notices Chuck signaling that he’d like to pay up. Glancing at Messy-Hair he figures he has a few minutes before having to pour him another so he sets the bottle down and heads over to the other side.
“All right there, Chuck?”
“Yeah, yeah, thank you, Dean.”
The older man is flipping through his wallet and counting out his cash slowly. Dean wipes the bar and puts Chuck’s last glass into the bucket for later cleaning.
“Write anything tonight?” Dean always asks this question. It’s like a little game he and Chuck play because it always has the same answer.
“No,” Chuck says looking up at him. He places his finger to his temple solemnly, almost like he’s holding a gun. “But I did a lot of work up here.”
He always gives Dean this look as though Dean should know exactly what he’s talking about. But, of course, Dean never does. He likes to read but he sure as hell would never attempt to write. Personally, he thinks Chuck is sort of crazy, but hey, to each their own, right?
Chuck pushes his notebooks into his old canvas bag on the bar. It’s bulging with everything he carries with him and looks fit to burst. Dean supposes that writer’s block is heavy business.
Chucks nods goodnight as he slips his bag over his shoulders, buckling a bit under the weight. Dean watches as he wobbles away and he’s not sure if it’s from the alcohol or the bag. He’d normally be worried (hey, no bar can stay in business if all its clientele got themselves killed), but he knows Chuck lives nearby. He’ll be all right and probably in his same spot tomorrow evening. He puts Chuck’s money into the till and realizes he tipped Dean more than usual. He really did have had a good night, then.
He notices the couple trying to break the world record for smooches in a single night are getting up and putting on their jackets. Maybe Dean can get out early; he’s got the DVR set for Dr Sexy already, but he wouldn’t say no to catching it live for once.
Glancing over he sees Messy-Hair is now resting his head on the bar, but he lifts it as the doors bang shut behind Chuck, the cold burst of wind making his hair looking even more disheveled. Dean heads back over to see if he needs a refill and is suddenly struck dumb by the other man finally looking at him. Holy Mother of Blue, those are some eyes. The dude is handsome. Like old-time movie handsome. Strong jaw, with a smattering of scruff, pink soft lips and eyes that look like they can see into your soul, no, scratch that, not see, but pierce. Dean swallows roughly and picks up the whiskey bottle.
“Hey, uh, it’s getting late. One more for the road?” Dean assumes the dude doesn’t know the Starlight is technically open until midnight. Assumes, hah. More like prays.
Blue-Eyes stares at him and frowns. “I thought this establishment closed at midnight.”
“Er, yeah. I suppose it does.”
“Then I’ll take another,” Blue-Eyes pauses and holds out his glass. “And keep them coming for the next forty-five minutes, barkeep.”
Dean blinks at the old-fashioned word and pours another round. They stare at each other until he hears a giggle and a clearing of a throat. He looks over to see the couple and wonders how long they’ve been waiting. Judging from the churlish look on the guy’s face and the barely contained laughter emanating from the girl, it’s been awhile. He settles their tab and takes their money (lousy tip, of course) as the two saunter past Blue-Eyes and escape out into the night. Well, at least Dean can see it’s stopped raining.
Making up his mind, he follows them from behind the bar and locks the door after them. He flips off the sign, too. He may be stuck here with Blue-Eyes, but he’ll be damned if he’ll let someone else come meandering in to make him get home even later.
He comes back to stand in front of his customer and makes a decision. Pulling down another glass, he pours some of the whiskey into it and sighs as the warmth of it hits his system. What do they always say about good whiskey? It should warm the cockles of the heart, or something like that. Not that Dean actually knows what a cockle is, but hey, it went down smooth.
He realizes Blue-Eyes is watching him and Dean decides to bite the bullet. He’s tired, bored and probably on his way to cranky town if Blue-Eyes keeps his word about the next forty-five minutes.
“So, what brings you out on a cold and rainy night like tonight, Mr, uh…what’s your name? I can’t keep calling you what I’ve been calling you in my head.”
The other man squints and tilts his head at Dean like a tiny, confused bird. And no, Dean doesn’t find that adorable at all. Nope.
“What have you been calling me in your head?”
Dean purses his lips. Sometimes he’s really an idiot. He gives Blue-Eyes a shaky laugh.
“I said I wasn’t gonna keeping doing that.”
They stare at each other again, neither one budging until Blue-Eyes releases a breath and blinks, shoulders slumping a bit more. By the end of the night Dean expects this guy to be melted into the floor.
“Cas.”
Dean frowns. “Your name is Mr Cas?”
“No, just Cas.” Blue-Eyes, no, scratch that, Cas then holds out his hand so Dean can shake it like they’re fellow professionals meeting at a party or something. As he grips the other man’s hand in his own he realizes Cas’s hand is warm, dry, and, yep, strong. The dude is seriously ticking all of Dean’s boxes without even trying. It’s a bit unnerving, really.
“Is that short for something?” Dean asks, wondering what type of name that is.
Cas just looks at him over the rim of his glass. “Perhaps.”
Neither of them say anything else for a long moment and Dean shakes his head. “People ever tell you you talk too much?”
“Yes. All the time,” Cas says with a smirk.
Dean laughs. “Well, whatever. It’s officially nice to meet you, Cas. I’m Dean. Humble and professional barkeep at your service.”
“Hello, Dean.”
Cas’s voice is deep but there’s a warmth to it that makes Dean happy. They chit-chat for a bit, just like Dean would do with any newbie to the bar. He pours them both another round and then tries his question again.
“So, you seemed a bit upset earlier. What brought you through my doors, Cas?”
Cas sighs and glances away. He taps his fingers lightly on the polished wood of the bar. He stares at Dean as though assessing him and then looks as though he’s made up his mind.
“My…er, the person I’ve been dating, dumped me tonight. We went to an expensive restaurant and ordered far too pricey food for the serving size and drank outrageously fancy wine. Then they ordered an expensive bottle of cognac, drank it all and then told me I wasn’t worth it.”
Dean winces. “Ouch. How long were you together?”
“Six months.”
“Well, it’s not too long for a relationship, but it’s long enough to hurt.”
Cas nods, looking sullen again.
“What special occasion was it?”
Cas stares at him. “How could you possibly know that?”
“Fancy restaurant, the way you’re dressed, the cognac. Nobody orders that unless there’s been a birth or an anniversary or both.”
“It was my birthday,” Cas says, looking down again.
“Fuck,” Dean blurts out without thinking. “And they dumped you? Seriously bad juju, man.”
Cas nods and takes another drink of his whiskey, looking miserable. Dean tops off both of their glasses and hums.
“What was his name?”
Cas whips his head up, suddenly looking confused and more than a little worried. “I never said it was a he.”
“It was your distinct lack of pronouns, dude. Always the dead giveaway. Trust me, as a guy who plays for both sides, I know. Pronouns are key. Hey, relax, Cas, this is a safe space.” Dean points to the small pride flag he keeps above the bar and watches as Cas visibly relaxes.
The silence that falls between them is comfortable now. Welcoming, even. Cas clears his throat and rests his hand on his chin, peering at Dean.
“So…you’re bi, I assume or, pan, perhaps?”
“Got it in one. Just another bisexual loser ruining the world one lay at a time.”
Dean winks to show he’s only kidding. He’s proud to be bi, but it doesn’t mean he can’t make a joke at his own expense. Of course, if Sam or his friend Charlie were here they’d both tell him what they thought of that.
“His name was Bartholomew.”
Dean snorts. “It fits him. Douche-y name for a douche-canoe.”
Cas barks out a laugh and it completely changes his face into something truly beautiful. Dean suddenly feels the need to always make Cas laugh like that. He can’t imagine anyone not wanting to – his laugh is infectious. And the light it puts in his eyes is irresistible.
Cas looks serious again as he swirls the rest of the whiskey in his glass. “To be honest, Bart was just the last in a long line of failed…connections. I’m doubting my own self-worth at this point. Everyone ends up leaving or they get fed up with me. I’m too introverted…too socially awkward to deal with, I suppose.”
“I don’t know, you seem to be doing okay right now.”
“I’ve been drinking,” Cas says, deadpan. “And also I’m paying you.”
Dean chuckles. “Not really, I decided to stop charging you as soon as I poured my first one.”
“Your hospitality know no bounds. Truly.”
Dean laughs. Cas’s dry delivery and poker-faced expressions really are the limit. He feels that familiar warmth he always gets when he meets someone new. A someone new that excites him. But he pushes the feeling aside because he knows on some level that trying to get into Cas’s pants is so not what the other man needs right now. Dean shivers as he realizes how damn mature that sounds. Next he’ll be looking into 401ks and cemetery plots.
“Well, consider them birthday drinks. Of course, this stuff doesn’t cost a small fortune or anything, but I figured you’d already paid out enough tonight.”
Cas smirks and shakes his head at Dean. “Thank you, Dean. It’s actually very kind of you to…take pity on me.”
He says it jokingly but Dean gets the sense that he means it. He reaches forward and touches Cas’s hand.
“Hey, no pity here. You are ridiculously attractive and if I didn’t have a conscience, I’d definitely be throwing out my best lines here to help you relieve some tension, if you know what I mean. And you are not awkward to me, but even if you were, it wouldn’t be enough to stop me from asking for your number or seeing if you wanted to meet up sometime. I barely know you but you seem like a decent guy, Cas. And I think all of those people that don’t get you can just fuck right off. You need to keep trying, man. Don’t give up just because a few losers couldn’t see what they had.”
Cas blinks at Dean, blue eyes getting huge. “You think I’m ridiculously attractive?”
Dean thinks back. Did he say that? Yeah, he said that. Figures that would be the only thing to register with the dude.
“What sort of line would you use on me? I mean, if you were going to, that is.” Cas shyly glances away and then back, a curious look on his face.
“Oh, uh, probably something like, well you know what they say — the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.” Dean waggles his eyebrows and smirks, faking a leer.
“I’m not sure that would work with me,” Cas says, mirth clear in his eyes.
“Yeah, yeah. You’d make me work for it, I know. But seriously, you need to regroup, clear out the douche-canoes from your life and find a new guy, man.”
Cas smiles at him in fondness, and nope, Dean is not going to do it. He will not break his rule about dating people just out of relationships. Not even for big huge blue eyes that make him feel sappy like a love song. Cas, however, clearly has other plans.
“This may be forward but, um, Dean would you allow me take you out for dinner? As a date, in case you were wondering how I meant it.”
“Oh, wow, Cas, um, I mean…”
Cas’s face takes an interesting journey in two seconds – from hopeful joy to miserable and wretched. Dean feels his heart break a little bit for him in that moment and mentally kicks his own ass for being a tool.
“Oh, I see. I…I’m sorry, Dean. Thank you for hospitality.” Cas fumbles with his wallet and places far too much money next to his glass. “I won’t keep you anymore. Go home and enjoy whatever is left of your night.”
Dean watches dumbly as Cas sits up straighter and then turns in his seat, his broad shoulders unyielding, suddenly. Dean knows he just can’t let it end like this.
“No, wait, Cas!”
Dean practically flings himself around the bar to reach Cas before he can unlock the door and leave without a backwards glance. He rests his hand on Cas’s shoulder, stopping him.
“It’s only because I have a rule about dating people that just got out of a relationship. It has nothing to do with you, I promise you. You need to focus on you, dude. Figure out what you’re looking for. If this one was just the last in a long line of guys who don’t understand you, try and see what people you’re going for. I mean, I’m no expert, and God knows I’ve had my fair share of jumping before looking moments, but I think you just need some Cas time right now, you know? If we ever start something I do not want to be rebound guy and you deserve something better than a one night stand.”
Cas stares at him, blue eyes half in shadow. Dean holds his breath, hoping he didn’t just lose something. All he can hear is the clock ticking behind him and the pounding of his own heart in his ears.
“That was quite the speech,” Cas finally says. “You sound like you know from experience.”
“Cas, man. You have no idea.”
“I have some, like I said, a long line of rejections. Still…” Cas’s eyes search his face and then nods to himself. “Maybe you’re right. I do tend to do things without thinking in this area of life despite being very practical usually. And you’re also right on anther point, Dean. You do not deserve to be “rebound guy”.”
Dean can’t help his grin as Cas makes the quotes motion with his fingers. They stare at each other for a bit longer before he unlocks the door. Cas steps out as the cold air filters in between them, causing them bother to shiver. Dean pauses, and then holds out his hand. “Let me have your phone.”
“My phone?”
“Yeah, you have one, right? Or have you moved on to something flashier like sky writing?”
Cas snorts and shakes his head. He fumbles in his pockets and then pulls out a slim, black smartphone. He unlocks it and hands it over. Of course, it’d be that kind of phone that can help you bake bread or turn off all the lights in the world with just a click or something. He finally finds what he’s looking for and puts his contact information in.
“There. There’s my number. Text me to let me know you get home, okay? And as for the rest, we’ll take it one day at a time, Cas. Let’s be friends, first.”
Cas smiles shyly as he looks down at his phone and nods. “Friends, first. I like that. Goodnight, Dean.”
“Goodnight, buddy. Be safe.”
Cas slips out and away, leaving a coldness in his wake as he takes his body heat with him. Dean watches him go, the black of the night almost swallowing him up. Cas pauses to pull his coat tighter, the glow of the streetlight lighting up his profile. To Dean he looks pure—angelic, almost, like a painting or a sculpture. With one last look at Dean, he eventually fades away, disappearing back into the world. Soon all Dean can see is his own breath in the air and the twinkling starlight from the surprisingly clear sky above. He locks up again and finishes his routine for the night. After he’s put the money in the safe and headed out back to his car, he feels happy inside. Like something good just occurred — like some new path has been cleared for him to travel. His drive home is quick and easy, there’s hardly any traffic mostly due to the earlier rain. It’s just as he’s pulling into his driveway that he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. It’s from an unknown number and his heart beats faster as he reads the message.
From unknown: I arrived home safely, Dean. Thank you, again. Would you like to get coffee tomorrow, or, perhaps I should say, later today? Oh, this is Cas, by the way. In case you didn’t know. :)
Dean saves the number and then returns to the message to reply, a grin creeping onto his face before he even realizes it.
Dean: Of course, dude. Coffee sounds great. Around 1pm?
Cas: Perfect. Do you know the Blue Java Café on Marion and Elm? It’s across from the park and one of my favorite places.
Dean: Sounds good. Can’t wait to talk to you sober, ya lush… (lol j/k hah)
Cas sends him a sticking-tongue-out emoji as a response and Dean chuckles as he locks up his car. He has a nice, happy feeling in his heart as he thinks of Cas. Like maybe this is something special. Or maybe it’s just that it could be and has the potential to be. He knows he told Cas friends first, but Dean’s willing to see where it…where they, can go.
#suptober23#destiel#prompt:starlight#dean and cas#meet-cute#my writing#biting nails here#like posting stuff is scary#wth#I am not used this anymore#castiel#dean winchester
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safety net: part two
authors note: part two as promised! i hope you all enjoy and feedback is always appreciated. (p.s. please be kind :) don't like it, don't read it!)
pairing: nicholas ruffilo x reader (previous noah sebastian x reader)
cross-posted on ao3
part one
word count: 4.0k
cw/tags: fake dating/pretend relationship, past relationship (with noah), angstish, all around fluff, kissing lol, p in v (protected sex!!!!! always use protection pals), fingering, 18+ minors do not interact
A week later, you’re back at Nicholas’, curled up beside him as another one of his favorite movies play on the screen.
"Oh." You turn your head to look up at Nicholas. "Did I tell you some guy tried to ask me out last weekend?”
Nicholas stills beside you.” …No. What did he say?"
Last weekend was the first time in weeks that you and Nicholas didn’t hang out with each other, both busy in your own respective ways. He had band things to do, and you had promised a few of your friends you’d go out with them, since you had committed a lot of your time to Nicholas and pretending. It had been a good night, a pretty fun one, until a man came up to you.
Your friends gushed, having known about your break-up with Noah but not your current agreement with Nicholas, and it came as a complete shock when you had declined his offer with a smile. Your best-friend stared at you in shock, like you had said no to the fucking lottery, but the second you said you already had plans with a friend of yours she knew. She was the only one besides Nicholas who knew about what the two of you were doing, and she always had her suspicions, but this confirmed it all.
She gave you an ear full the next morning and told you to get the fuck over yourself and tell Nicholas how you felt, in which you called her crazy and never spoke about it again.
You shrug, focusing back on the screen. “Eh, not much. Told me I was beautiful and actually asked if I was busy tonight, which I was, so I told him no.”
Nicholas goes silent next to you, and you feel him sit up. You glance up at him, his eyes already on you, and he’s looking at you like you’ve got two fucking heads. You look around the room, confused, then back at him.
“What?”
“You said no to a date… to hang out with me?”
You pause.
“Well… yeah.” You shrug again, this time weakly. “I promised we’d watch this episode together.”
And he wasn’t you.
“…Okay.”
Silence fills the room. You try to relax back against his bed, but the way Nicholas seemed to be so taken back with your words wouldn’t leave your mind. You shift uncomfortably as the worry fills your mind and try to focus back on the movie, but the silence next to you didn’t help at all. You spare a glance at him and see him staring straight ahead, chewing on his bottom lip and you can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking.
Did he find it weird? Really, it wasn’t that weird. It’s not that far-fetched to decline plans when you already had some made… right?
The movie finishes almost an hour later and the two of you have barely spoken, barely even looked at each other. He’s still sitting on the bed in silence, almost as if he’s fighting with himself mentally when you slowly get up, walking over to where you jacket lied against his desk.
“Hey,” His voice startles you, your jacket slipping from your fingers. You turn to look at him. “I have a question.”
You watch as he finally sits up and swings his legs over the side of the bed. He looks nervous, brows furrowed as he finally looks at you for the first time in an hour.
“What’s up?”
He plays with his hands in his lap, picking at his fingers as he dips his head down. “…What is this?”
“What is… what, Nick?”
“This.” He looks up again and motions with his hands between the two of you, lips pulled down into a frown. “Us.”
“Oh.”
You’re not sure what to say, mouth falling slightly. Your heart pounds against your chest as his words settle into your mind. Us. Was he implying what you thought he was?
“I…” You begin, but no other words follow. How can you even answer that?
You press your lips together as your eyes meet Nicholas’. Something shines in his eyes, something you can’t exactly place but it was the same look he gave you after your kiss, and it’s enough to have your stomach swirling with nerves. Your heart pounds rapidly against your chest.
“This…” Nicholas sucks in a deep breath but his gaze doesn’t waver from yours. “This stopped being… pretend to me a while ago.” He lets out a huff of laughter, cheeks twinging in pink. “Actually, I’m not sure if it ever was pretend.”
Your eyes widen at his words, and you’re stunned into silence, not able to find the right words. I’m not sure if this was ever pretend. What did that mean? Okay, you knew what it meant but he couldn’t be serious, right? There’s no way this entire time he was into you. He would’ve said something.
…Right?
You swallow down your nerves as you catch his gaze again and he reaches out for you, and like some kind of gravitational pull, you’re stepping forward. He pulls you closer to him, fingers circling around your wrists and your body heats up just at the simple touch. Your feet move before you can even think about it, standing in between his legs easily. He looks up at you, eyes bright and so fucking hopeful. He releases your wrists and rests his hands against your hips.
“Please tell me you stopped pretending, too.”
Clear, grey eyes stare up at you and you swallow down the lump that was beginning to form in your throat. You have to take a deep breath to try and calm yourself down, the feeling of being overwhelmed almost taking over your entire body. It wasn’t bad, no, but it was a lot. You had hoped for this, hoping that Nicholas had felt the same, and the fact that he does was enough to make you want to cry.
You give him a tiny nod, scared to use your voice and reach up to brush your fingers through his hair. His eyes immediately flutter shut at the feeling, and you see the ghost of a smile on his lips, and it has your heart feeling like it’s about to soar right out of your chest. You smile down at him, fingers moving through his hair before you scratch at his scalp gently. He had told you once that he liked when people did that, and you stored it into the back of your mind to maybe use another day.
Today seems to be that day.
His eyes open to stare up at you again, fingers gripping around your hips.
“Come here.” He murmurs, gently tugging you to him.
You follow, your legs rising to rest on the bed and on each side of his hips, settling onto his lap easily. He tilts his head up, only slightly, and your lips barely brush together. You gasp, low and quiet but you're sure he's heard, especially with the teasing grin threatening to stretch across his lips. Your arms shake with nerves as they wrap around Nicholas' neck and he notices, his hands sliding up and down your sides reassuringly.
"You're shaking." He mumbles as your foreheads press together. You let out a shaky laugh, eyes fluttering shut.
"Sorry." You say sheepishly, "I'm nervous."
"Why?" He squeezes your hips gently before letting his hands wander up under the hem of your shirt, fingers brushing against your skin. "This wouldn't be the first time we've kissed."
Your cheeks heat up at that and you roll your eyes playfully, pulling back to tilt your head up towards the ceiling as a groan left you.
"Okay, but that was different!" You whine, eyes squeezing shut. "We were pretending then. This time is real."
"I wasn't pretending then." He murmurs, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss against the base of your neck. You freeze in his hold and his thumbs rub soothing circles against the skin of your hips, pressing another kiss. "It was very real to me.”
You blush at his words, shaky hands reaching up to card through Nicholas’ hair as he continued to place open mouthed kisses along your skin.
“It was real to me too.” You whisper, and feel him smile against your neck.
His lips moved tenderly against you before he reaches your chin, pulling away from you. You whine at the loss, eyes finally opening and gazing back down at him. He tilts his head up, eyes hooded, and you feel yourself leaning down as your eyes flutter shut.
His touch felt like electricity, even if it was barely there, and you couldn't stop yourself from shaking in his hold as your lips finally met his in a kiss. You let out a noise, something mixed with a whine and a cry, as your lips finally moved against one another’s, and Nicholas' fingers dug into your skin. It went from gentle to heated in a matter of seconds, soft pants leaving the both of you as your hips rocked down against his own, your lips still working against his.
He hisses, "Fuck", his grip on your hips tightening as you ground your hips into his. You felt his hardening cock underneath your now aching core and the feeling made you dizzy, more noises slipping from you as you pulled away, trailing your lips from his down to his neck.
"Baby," His voice is rough, and the pet name made you clench around nothing, teeth nibbling against the skin of his neck. He groans again. "If we keep going, I don't know if I'll be able to stop."
You feel one of his come up to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair to gently tug your head back and it pulls a whimper from you. His eyes were now blown wide, pupils dilated. It made your skin buzz, a shiver running up your spine at the look of pure desperation on his face. He wanted you just as bad as you wanted him. You rolled your hips down to meet his, your gaze never waving, and he pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth to hold in a moan.
"I need to know if this is what you want." He grits out and drops his hand back down to stop your hips from moving again. You whimper at the loss of friction, trying to wiggle in his hold, but his grip only tightens. "You need to tell me yes or no.”
"Nicky," You whine out, dropping your head to rest your forehead against his. "I would not be grinding on your fucking lap if I didn't want this. Yes, a million times fucking yes."
You see his eyes flutter shut and he lets out a huff of air, lips slowly curling up into a teasing smile as his grip loosened on your hips and brings a hand up to rest on the back of your neck.
"That wasn't so hard, now was it?"
He brings your head back down to his as your lips catch in another kiss. There was no gentleness behind it this time, all wet and messy as you continued to work yourself over his lap. Even with the layers between the both of you you could feel just how big he was, and the feeling of his clothed cock had your cunt already soaking through your underwear.
His hands that were on your hips have slid up under your shirt now, touching you everywhere that he could. You moan against his lips, not caring if you were loud.
“Off.” He mumbles against your lips before pulling back, whining softly. “Let me take this off, baby.”
Your brain is mush at this point, and you stare at him with hooded eyes, trying to come back to earth, but he’s already tugging your shirt up. You raise your arms to make it easier and before you know it it’s already tossed to the floor. You hiss when the cold air meets your chest, forgetting you hadn’t put on a bra, and you feel Nicholas’ eyes glued to you. You flush under his gaze.
His hands drop back to your hips and gently raises you up from his lap, and you get the hint, moving off of him and crawling onto the bed. Shirt already forgotten, your back meets the bed and you look up to watch Nicholas find a place in between your thighs, sliding his shirt off and tossing it to the ground beside your own.
He leans down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, while his fingers come up to play with the other. You moan, back arching off the bed and into him, and you feel him smile around you. He pulls off to glance up at you, keeping his eyes on yours as he trails his lips down your middle before reaching the top of your pants.
You bite down roughly on your bottom lip as he starts working them off of you, your hips lifting to help him slide your pants down your legs. He groans when he nestles back in between your legs, cheek pressing against your inner thigh.
“God, you’re already soaking. Aren’t you, sweetheart?” His eyes aren’t on you, but instead on your center, locked on the dampness in between your legs.
You clench around nothing. “Nicky.”
Your whines pull him from his thoughts and his clear eyes flicker towards yours, brows raised in question. You blush.
“Tell me what you want.”
“You.” You whimper, growing impatient. “I want you.”
This makes him smile, all bright and pretty and your chest clenches at the sight. He leans up to press a few kisses against your hip before tucking his fingers into your underwear, tugging them down your legs. Once discarded, he dips his head back between your thighs, and without warning he licks a long stride up your drenched folds. You moan out in surprise, hands immediately darting down to tangle in his hair.
He takes this as motivation and shows no mercy, tongue flicking over your already swollen clit. You feel his pointer finger poke at your entrance before slowly sliding in, curling into the spot immediately. You squeeze your eyes shut as his mouth works against you, his finger slowly pumping in and out of you. It already felt like heaven, the heat in your stomach building up. He adds another finger, stretching you out deliciously, and you tug at his hair when you feel yourself clench around his fingers.
He pulls back from you and rests his cheek back against your thigh, still working two fingers in and out of you. You have to force yourself to open your eyes and stare down at him, a smirk settling on his now slick lips.
“Think you can take another?” He questions softly, turning his head to press a kiss to your thigh before resting his cheek against it again. You nod but whimper halfway through it, his fingers curling inside of you. “Words, baby.”
“Yes.” You moan out, rocking your hips up into his hand. “I can. Fuck. Give it to me.”
He adds a third finger, and you brace yourself for the stretch. It burns more than you’re used to, and he can tell, feeling your cunt spasm around his fingers. He hisses out a moan but pauses his movements, letting you adjust, before you give him the okay. The only sound in the room are your moans, getting louder with each thrust of his fingers. He pulls them out all too soon, the heat in your stomach almost snapping, and you can’t help but whine in protest.
“Sorry, ‘m sorry.” His voice is muffled against your thigh as he presses a few more kisses there. “But the first time I make you cum, I want it to be around my cock.”
His words have you shivering, and you watch as he pushes himself up and off the bed, and you can’t help but follow his fingers as they mess with his belt. He pushes his jeans down in one go, and your thighs clench together at the sight of his hardening cock straining against the fabric of his boxers. Your eyes widen as you watch him push his boxers down, his hard cock springing free from its confines.
You could feel that he was big when you were grinding on his lap earlier but seeing it with your own eyes made your mouth water, eyes following him as he finally crawled back onto the bed. He was definitely the biggest you had been with. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted something more in your life, and at this point you don’t care if it ends up inside you or your mouth. You just need it.
You start to grow impatient as he rolls the condom onto his cock, hips wiggling against the bed. He chuckles but doesn't say a word, a hand running up your thigh before hiking it up against his hip. He hisses as he wraps a hand around the base of his cock and drags his tip up and down your folds, and your breath hitches at the feeling of the tip catching at your entrance. He pauses, eyes locking with yours to silently ask if he can continue, and you nod.
You suck in a breath when he slowly pushes himself in, inch by inch, and your fingers grip around the bedsheets. The stretch burns, but it feels so fucking good.
“Fuck. You feel like fucking heaven, baby.” Nicholas looks down to where the two of you meet, before flicking his gaze back up to yours. “Alright?”
You nod, squeezing your eyes shut as he pushed further in.
“Mhm.” Is all you can manage to say through your ragged breaths, whimpering quietly when he finally bottoms out.
Nicholas leans forward, resting his arm beside your arm to hold himself up while his free hand comes up to cup your cheek. His hips still once he’s fully inside and you hear him take a deep breath, thumb brushing against your cheek. It takes you a few moments as you let yourself get used to feeling of him inside of you, the stretch finally turning from pain into pleasure, and your eyes flutter open to look up into his.
“You can move.” You hum out and he nods, dipping his head down to catch your lips against his own.
He pulls back until only the tip is in before giving a shallow roll of his hips. Even with the condom you were still able to feel everything, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease as his hips continued. Your back arches off the bed at the feeling of his cock pressing deep inside you, mewling his name against his lips. This only spurs him on, a low growl leaving him as his movements sped up.
Flesh slapping against flesh, the mix of heavy pants and high-pitched whines filled the room. You’re not even kissing now, lips parted and brushing together as Nicholas thrusted deep inside of you again, and again, and again.
“Shit.” His forehead presses against your own, eyes dropping down to where the two of you met and he gave a shallow roll of his hips that has you crying out. “Taking me so well, sweetheart. Like you were fucking made for it.”
His hips snap against yours to enunciate each word and your eyes roll back at how deep he was, at how full you felt, and your cunt clenched around his cock. He moans, deep and low from deep within his chest, and the hand that was cupping your cheek fell in between your bodies. Calloused fingers press against your swollen clit and your body jolts, back arching again.
Nicholas leans down, pressing messy open-mouthed kisses against the span of your neck, rubbing quick circles around your sensitive bud. The heat in your belly was building up once again and you knew you were close, the feel of his cock and fingers against your clit was slowly pushing you over the edge.
“C’mon, baby.” He groans out, followed by a moan as his forehead pressed against yours again, fingers pressing harder against your abused clit. “I wanna feel you, please.”
You came with a sob, your cunt spasming around his cock as the warmth of your release flowed throughout your body. You went rigid, back halfway off the bed, vision blurring. Nicholas whimpered above you, your pussy still clenching around him and he gave another deep thrust before going still, his face pressing against the crook of your neck.
The two of you lie there for a moment, chests heaving as you tried to come back to the present. It was hot and sticky, but you found yourself not minding the feel of Nicholas pressed against you, tiredly reaching up to card your fingers through his hair. He makes a noise, the hum of it tickling your neck, and you scratch at his scalp.
“Shit.” He finally says, pulling his head up to look at you.
You can only give him a fucked-out grin in response, the ability to form words having left you awhile ago. He chuckles before leaning in, pressing a much gentler kiss to your swollen lips before pulling away seconds later. He slips out of you carefully, but you still whine at the feeling, and he mutters out a quick “Sorry, baby,” before standing up from the bed and throwing away the condom.
He searches around the room for something to clean you off with before settling for the shirt he had just discarded, running it between your thighs carefully. You let him take care of you, only because you know how much he wants to, and the thought makes your skin buzz. You sit up on the bed and stretch out your now sore limbs while he changes into comfier clothes and watch as he grabs some for you.
“Arms up, sweetheart.”
You blush but follow his directions, arms lifting and letting him dress you. You weren’t used to this, usually having to defend for yourself after a hook up, but having Nicholas do this for you has your heart clenching.
Finally, in much comfier clothes than before you lie back down on the bed, on your side this time, and Nicholas crawls in beside you, tucking his body into yours.
“That was… nice.” You hum quietly as Nicholas pressed his face against your neck again.
“Just nice?” He teases. You let out a sleepy laugh as Nicholas wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close.
“No, it was absolutely mind-blowing. Best sex I’ve had in a long time.” You say matter-of-factly, turning your head to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.”
His body shakes with laughter now, his hand dipping beneath his your shirt. “… Are you thanking me for rocking your world?”
“I sure am.”
His laughter doesn’t subside until he pulls back to look at you, giving you another smile that you easily return. You share a glance before you’re leaning in, lips brushing against each other. There’s something behind this kiss, much tender than the previous ones shared, and you think you finally understand what he’s trying to convey to you without actually saying a word. It has your stomach turning, heart flipping beneath your chest as he pulls you into him, hand sliding down to your thigh to prop your leg up over his.
A knock at the door breaks your moment with Nicholas, the two of you pulling away to look at each other like a deer caught in a headlight.
“Uh,” You hear Jolly’s muffled voice from the other side. “I was going to ask if you’d like to join us for a movie, but I can uh… hear that you’re pretty busy. So… do you care to at least keep it down this time?”
You and Nicholas can only laugh in response and you press your face against his hair to try and hide your burning cheeks.
#bad omens fanfic#bad omens fanfiction#nicholas ruffilo fanfiction#nicholas ruffilo fic#nicholas ruffilo x reader#mine
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Dale Cooper SFW headcanons
Fandom: Twin Peaks
Pairing: Dale Cooper x gender neutral reader
Genre: Fluff, headcanons
Warning(s): Cuss words, dirty jokes
Words: 900
Summary: Being in a relationship with Dale Cooper would include…
English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! <3
Avaliable on AO3
This man… He has so much love to give you, and won’t hesitate to do so.
He sees you as a treasure and knows how to treat you like one.
His job means long days and much time apart from you. To not speak of the dangers that come with being a special agent.
He tries making up for this, though.
At work, he’s serious and focused on his tasks
At home, all his attention is on you.
ALL OF IT.
He spends his free days off work with you, either at home or going outdoors. As long as you’re together, he doesn’t care.
He might come across as “clingy”, but he just wants your love and company.
His career means late night, so he either comes home to find you already sleeping, or sitting up on the couch watching tv. Either way, he always greets you with the biggest smile.
You try visiting him at the police station, too. Going to him for lunch, surprise visits etc…
If he has the opportunity, he does the same for you when/if you work.
Dale is not a good chef, but he enjoys cooking for you.
Especially in the mornings.
He often ends up burning the food without realizing it
But he looks so happy when he tells you that he has cooked, and you can’t bring yourself to tell him that he accidentally burned it
He looks so smug whenever you eat his food and tell him you like it
He might be a night owl, but still gets up early in the morning. How he does so is a damn mystery.
Maybe it’s the fact he usually has weird dreams at night that makes him wake up early?
Or is he just always energetic?
He wakes you up with kisses and the first thing you smell is coffee.
This man is absolutely head over heels in love with you
He appreciates small gestures from you, he’s not the guy to like big romantic gestures. Like seriously, just make a cup of coffee for this man and he will swoon for you.
Dale’s love language being touch and quality time
He likes making coffee for you, it’s his ultimate way of saying “I love you” lol
Speaking of saying “Ily”, he was definitely the one to say it first.
You’d only been dating for a month or less when he realised how much you mean to him, and that he had fallen for you.
He feels very comfortable around you and appreciates the feeling of you jot judging him
That’s why he likes sharing his weird theories with you and rant about different cases he’s working on, wanting your take on it
Whilst other people laugh at his passion for the paranormal, you are supportive, and find it interesting too.
Which makes him very happy, since he finally can share his thoughts without getting judged <3
He also tells you about the weird dreams he has
At first, you were very concerned when Dale started ranting about his dreams of weird creatures and creepy places
…But you grew to like it. Once getting used to his weird dreams, you’re always intrigued to hear another story
If you don’t believe in paranormal stuff/you’re not spiritual - you definitely change your opinions later. He has a way of talking about it that just fascinates you to the point you also believe it.
Which only makes him love you more, if possible.
You and Dale are a pretty calm couple, but your shared love for creepy shit probably leads to Dale taking you on your own little investigations/missions
He wouldn't let you tag along to a real mission, but suggests going to abandoned places for sightseeing.
And who are you to say no to that?
Somehow, it’s almost cozy to walks hand in hand in the creepiest of places, while discussing theories and scaring each other with stories
You also make it a challenge sometimes - who gets scared first?
Spoiler alert! It’s you.
Dale is a special agent, and works with cases like this, after all.
He’s pretty competitive, believe it or not
Sometimes, he even makes sure to make you frightened
He likes comforting you and feeling like “the knight on a white horse”
A bit rude, I know, but he can’t help it!
“Fuck sake Dale! You did that on purpose!”“I would never!”“...”“Ok, maybe I did intend to scare you.”“I hate you”“I know you don’t… Don’t be mad at me, my love!”
Don’t worry, he does make it up to you in one way or another ;)
His ideal date would be coffee dates (what a surpriseeee)
On your first date he took you to Double R Diners, so he could show you how amazing coffee and cherry pies they have.
He also likes taking you out on picnics, sightseeings and being outdoors with you.
But if you prefer calm dates, he doesn’t mind taking you to the cinema, or even just stay at home to watch movies and eating takeaway food
He doesn’t mind PDA - he holds your hand in public, kisses your forehead, wants you close etc…
But he prefers to kiss you when he’s alone with you
If you were to kiss him around people he’d turn into a blushing mess lmao
Dale is the boyfriend who likes staying up with you - having deep late night conversations
The two of you are pretty cheesy - slow dancing under the night sky, stargazing… You name it
Being in a relationship with Dale brings you the passion, love, adventures and amount of weirdness that you need in your life - His goal is to be the best boyfriend ever <3
#fanfic writing#writeblr#twin peaks#x reader#twin peaks fire walk with me#kyle maclachlan#fire walk with me#twin peaks dale cooper#dale cooper#dale cooper x reader#special agent dale cooper#dale cooper smut#dale x reader#twin peaks x reader#twin peaks smut#twin peaks fanfic#fan fiction#ao3 fanfic#fanfic#fanfiction#fanfics#fanfiction writer#fanfiction writing#fanfic writers#fanfic readers#fanfic authors#fluff#drabble#one shot#masterlist
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WIP Tag
Thanks for the tag @kay-elle-cee, @alittlebitofeverything23, and @isahorcrux !!! This is such a fun one. :)
List the titles your top five priorities for WIP updates (link your fics for new readers!)
An upcoming scene, event, or detail in each fic that you're looking forward to writing
Bonus: make a poll for your followers to vote on which top 5 WIP they are most excited to see an update on!
Then tag 10 writer friends
Titles
Kindly Stopped for Me: Chapter 33. Lily lives AU, where Lily falls into a coma on Halloween 1981 and wakes up at the end of GoF. Lots of angst and family feels.
The Joker and The Queen: Chapter 3. A Jily fake-dating fic. Shenanigans abound. An "Idiots in Love" kind of story.
James Lives AU (Title TBA): Outline & Chapter 1. Basically a James version of Kindly Stopped for Me. James survives Halloween 1981 in a way that I will not spoil for you, and wakes up later on when Harry is a teenager.
Forever is the Sweetest Con: Short multi-chapter. Jily as con artists who fall in love while trying to con each other.
Fragile Little Flame: A post-war Hinny fic! Most likely a one-shot, but we'll see what happens.
(I’m not including the KSFM Missing Moments that I’m working on in this, since I don’t post them on AO3, but just know that I haven’t forgotten them!!!)
Upcoming Scenes, Events, Details
I've been making some minor changes to my outline for KSFM, so the exact numbers may change, but looking at it from a birds-eye view—Chapters 35 and 39 are two of the angstiest chapters in the entire fic😅 So...in preparation for that...I'm giving you all a slight break from the heaviness of this fic with chapters 33 and 34. I'm hoping it won't feel like a crazy tone switch after the previous two chapters, but I'm excited! Chapter 33 is a bit of a transition chapter (setting up some important things!) so maybe won't be the most exciting thing to read. But it will include Lily watching Harry in a Gryffindor Quidditch match for the first time and the gang celebrating Sirius’s 36th birthday!🎂🎂🎂 So hopefully you all will enjoy that!! And then Chapter 34 will be a Harry POV and will feature some good old-fashioned teenage romance drama😅
Chapter 3 of The Joker and The Queen has taken soooo long to write because it's something I sort of have to be in the right mindset for. (I still don't have a full outline for it because I posted the first chapter impulsively before I really thought about the plot very much lol) But I'm hoping it will be worth the wait!! The chapter will feature Lily meeting Fleamont and Euphemia (and possibly some Potter extended family members too) for the first time. I've never written James's parents before, so I'm excited!
Oh man, oh man. What can I say about the James lives au?? I'm currently drafting multiple vague outline ideas as I work through the timeline that I want it to take place in. But, despite what I've said previously, I'm finding myself starting to lean towards setting it in the OotP universe after all. (but no promises yet!) I'm staying kind of vague about the plot of this since it's still very much under consideration, but I'll just say that Peter's betrayal and its ramifications will be a major focus. The betrayal will happen slightly differently than it does in canon (as some of you have already guessed!), and I expect it to be devastating😈
Forever is the Sweetest Con is a fic that has been percolating in my brain for a WHILE now. I haven't officially outlined it yet, but I already made the banner so it's officially happening! It will be canon divergent, and I'm excited to explore the cat-and-mouse dynamic that I envision when I think about this one.
Fragile Little Flame is a fic inspired by Taylor Swift's "I Know Places" and is also one that I already have a banner and title for, but no outline. It'll be a post-war Hinny fic (I've been wanting to return to writing them!) and will take place in the 19 years between the end of DH and the epilogue. I haven't really thought about the plot in detail yet, but it probably won't be epilogue-compliant. Harry will (probably) be a Quidditch player rather than an Auror, and the fic will explore Harry and Ginny recovering from the war and rebuilding their relationship amongst the chaos of both grief and fame.
Apologies if you've already been tagged! But here's a no-pressure tag to: @suzyq31 @nena-96 @uncertainwallflower @turanga4 @takearisk-ao3 @annasghosts @practicecourts
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