#Just repressing it and letting it explode you is SO much easier. Because as it turns out. Unrepressing . Makes things worse also | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

degrees-of-fuck · 2 years

Text

She Because of the occasional options to confide in various people, I’m kinda thinking about what my PC, Clara would be willing to share with different people when she needs to talk! Some characters you can’t actually talk to about this stuff potentially added because it feels in character for her to do so

TW for um... DoL, dead dove do not eat - and also for fun mental health talk & Some reference to certain psychotic symptoms, intrusive thoughts & OCD, in case that’s not a thing you’re in a place to read about rn?

Robin

Probably the most open with Robin? Though she is concerned for Robin’s Aura Of Blinding Innocence, so she tends to keep things stuffed up inside for far longer, causing things to explode at somewhat inopportune times

I think the realisation that Clara’s less Strong and Stoic and more just... Skilled at masking and repression is probably one of the main things that contributed to them going from looking up to her to feeling protective of her. like Oh Shit. I’ve known you forever and I was Super Wrong About You. and damn you are good at hiding things things are probably way worse than you’re saying they are!!!

She can probably vent to them about basically anything technically, though she only ever goes how she felt rather than describe details. Even without Harper’s influence, she’s starting to feel that she’s to blame for what happens to her - and she doesn’t want Robin to find out the “truth” about who she is as a person. Plus. Robin is too uh... Soft. If they feel comfortable trying to get by with a lemonade stand, who is Clara to burst their bubble with such painful recollections? Especially now that she’s taken over their debt. It’s easier if they stay relatively oblivious.

She probably vents to them about Avery, now that she’s figured out how messed up they are. Robin never seemed to trust them, anyway. It probably isn’t a good idea to build up Robin’s negative feelings toward them too much, but... They’re the obvious person to talk to. They’re already on the same page about the businessperson being a massive creep.

Bailey and conditions in the orphanage, naturally. This is less venting and more them complaining together though, usually. (On the flipside - when Clara managed to save up enough for the kitchen and later the lab in the loft, it was probably the happiest Robin had seen her in a W H I L E)

Sydney

The basics of her... Unfortunate situations with Avery and Eden probably had to be shared. How the fuck do you go about hiding having a sugar mommy/daddy that assaults you in an alley if you reject them or having to play spouse for a terrifying forest weirdo once a week from your actual partner???

She probably kept it vague at first when Sydney was still too pure to handle the full story (or at least as full as they’re ever gonna get) - better to do it slowly than all at once, Clara thinks. Initially she just said there are certain people that, much like Kylar, she has to keep happy with her. At this point, now that she’s talked about Bailey at the cafe’s grand re-opening, she’s probably told her that Bailey basically sold her to Eden and that everything she’s done with them was to get them to trust her enough to let her go back to town! (And see Sydney!!) - and that Avery was a benefactor that she’d tried to stop going out with, only for things to turn real sour. She tries to keep her descriptions of her encounters with them as vague as she can so as not to make Sydney worry. It doesn’t work.

She doesn’t exactly vent about those, though - unless prompted to. Again, the less Sydney knows about the danger she’s actually in day to day, the better in Clara’s eyes. That’s why she doesn’t tell her about the randoms that attack her in the streets near constantly.

I think she’d be more likely to discuss her mental health with Sydney? After picking up on her low opinion of Harper (and I doubt Clara trusts them herself after seeing them at the farm so much) she feels safer talking to Sydney about panic attacks, intrusive thoughts, hallucinations and her compulsions. She seems like the only one that won’t just tell her to see a doctor about it.

She might also vent to them about the bullying sometimes, as with the school at large’s low opinion of her, you’d be hardpressed to NOT be aware of that. Yesterday she got locked into a tank full of bugs : / She does however downplay the FUCK out of this. For instance, she won’t mention that the bugs were also rapists for some reason.

Doren

Clara can’t exactly be picky about what’s on her mind when she gets a chance to properly talk to Doren. One highly specific hour a day and all. I think she mostly talks about the abuse from total strangers to them though, on account of that being the main thing that initially caught Doren’s attention, indirectly.

It mostly just goes as far as whatever literally just happened as far as venting goes, with certain exceptions.

Because the incident that lead to this arrangement of Clara visiting Doren’s apartment so much was caused by the insistent worthlessness of the police, she probably feels most comfortable talking about situations where the obvious unhelpful answer is to tell the bobbies about it with Doren than with anyone else. Kinda similar basically to her talking about her mental health to someone that knows Harper’s not an option.

I think she’s more likely to discuss her complicated feelings regarding Kylar with Doren than anyone else. Kylar’s in their class with her, after all. They sit together every day, ever since the knife incident. Doren already seems to have gotten a weird feeling about their dynamic, so Clara doesn’t feel too weird talking about that in more detail. She doesn’t tell them about the times they’ve threatened her into sex, though. That would make class too weird. I think she’s told them about the stalking - and how she feels a disgusting combination of safe and violated as a result of it, though.

As a sidenote, I think Doren has probably witnessed a lot of Clara’s rituals she needs to feel safe alone with someone in their apartment. Probably not sure of how to help with that, though. If anything, I can kinda picture them accidentally reinforcing her dependence on them somewhat, if it’s what she needs to feel more comfortable.

Kylar

As much as Clara fears Kylar, there is a certain... Security to be found in her dealings with them. They’re impossible to sway. It seems like nothing she does or says could ever convince them she’s not only worth loving, but somehow the most wonderful being to grace the planet. It feels gross and uncomfortable to hear, particularly with how much she hates herself, but at the very least, she can talk to Kylar about how she feels like a terrible person and about her worse intrusive thoughts without fear. If it does somehow turn them off, then that just means she’s free. Win win.

Kylar’s willingness to tranquilize randoms and give her pepper spray are some of the reasons she feels sort of safer thanks to them, so I think she will vent about the street harassment to them. She won’t be vulnerable about it though. It feels a bit cathartic to do it with distance anyway, so it’s better! I think she twists details and generally just act a whole lot while she talks about it - less out of a desire to deceive them and more because it just feels better that way. She doesn’t feel at all comfortable actually talking about trauma with them normally, but it’s useful to do in that it makes them more inclined to keep her Safe.

I think she sometimes passive aggressively laments her feelings of helplessness and how people keep forcing her into relationships she isn’t comfortable with. They don’t get it. If anything, probably assume this applies to Sydney? Somehow??? Easier than admitting Clara just loves somebody else.

Keeps her money anxiety to herself. The last thing she wants is another thing to rely on Kylar for. She’s pretty sure allowing herself to become dependent on the creep would make them cum on the spot as soon as they realize it and she doesn’t really want to see that. Yuck. (PLUS SCARY)

Sidenote but Kylar is probably the WORST person for her to go to with feelings of paranoia or particularly scary obsessions regarding other people. they can both make each other So much worse rn

Avery

Clara is obviously not emotionally available with Avery. Why would she be? Her job is to be arm candy and to try not to enrage them. I think most of their interactions consist of at least one layer of mutual manipulation. Clara thinks it best if Avery thinks her a dumb little orphan that can’t see a good thing when she has it, though.

However, if it’s all SERIOUSLY coming on top of her, to the point where she was considering hiding in her room all day to avoid the risk of being asked out at all, she can be prompted to vent when Avery asks about how school is going.

She doesn’t go into details aside from that though - so I think she only discusses her issues with her classmates. Besides, what about being bullied can Avery hold over her? As cruel as the people at her school can be, it’s far from the worst thing to happen to her.

She downplays it of course. She doesn’t want Avery knowing too much about her actual feelings. The thought of that creep worrying about her is even worse. So holding back a breakdown, she’ll play it off as no big deal.

Based on the drink Avery gives her when she does this, her attempts at making it sound like normal harmless bullying are consistently unsuccessful, with even the censored version managing to be startling. Goodness knows why, but she has to admit that as anxious as she feels upon waking from her stupor with Avery of all people, whatever it is does make her feel better somehow. She’s starting to think she ought to ask what it is and where she can find it sometime.

Darryl

I don’t think Clara says much to Darryl about her own experiences - not in a venting sense, anyway. They’re clearly dealing with a mountain of their own stuff, after all... Clara is too, but she’d feel bad making any conversations about her.

Still, I think it does come up sometimes, more in the sense of trying to relate? I think she’s weirdly able to take a more healthy approach to her experiences when she’s able to distance herself by making it about helping someone else.

She’s probably mentioned Leighton’s behaviour at least once. The look on Darryl’s face when that happened was enough to completely shut Clara up regarding the headteacher for the time being. I’m not sure Either One of them really knows how to deal with that.

Especially recently with her particularly terrifying dancing job at a certain manor, I think Clara occasionally lapses into talking about some of her experiences in shows gone wrong and of her scarier close calls while expressing her appreciation for Darryl’s dedication to security and the dancers’ safety at their own place.

Eden

Now that she mostly seems to be in Eden’s good books, while unable to forget some of the more frightening things they’ve done (the fucking cage thing for instance) Clara is presently more scared of her own growing comfort with them than of Eden themselves. This is one reason why she is incredibly reluctant to discuss her feelings with them in any sense.

She’s acting. She is not their happy little wife. She’s just trying to survive. This is very important for her to remember, especially during especially nice moments.

She particularly avoids the topic of Bailey. Eden had basically bought her from her caretaker to begin with, after all. She doesn’t know their relationship, but her hopes of Eden taking her side are slim.

The main thing I think Clara’s willing to express vulnerability about is her experiences at Remy’s farm. Eden’s saved her from the place twice now - it seems natural. Sure, Robin knows and asked, but the look on their face whenever she lets a moo slip or when they catch her putting a handful of tasty grass into her mouth is kind of too much. Plus, it’s much easier to think of the nice parts of the farm when she’s in the orphanage, stuck in town and paying Bailey every week, what’s there to vent about? Eden however... She finds herself thinking about it that much more when she visits them.

Plus. It reminds them of the times they saved her. As much as seems to make them more angry about it every time she recalls what Remy put her through, they do seem to enjoy the feeling of protecting her - keeping her safe from those sick fucks. Whatever makes them happy.

The other thing she’ll vent to them about is the Ivory Wraith. Only to a certain extent. She won’t tell them a thing about the total violation she experienced at its... Hand? Doesn’t particularly want to know how Eden would react to That.

But still. She goes to their cabin at the end of every month to wait out each blood moon in sleepless safety. She feels safer around all these firearms, for starters. Plus, the noise of a possessed Clara shambling about would wake someone with instincts like Eden’s right? Apparently the Wraith must feel similarly, as it doesn’t bother her there anyway.

While she doesn’t go too much into the spooky details - and even less into the stuff she suspects is just her own mind playing tricks on her, this is another situation where she feels like allowing herself to vent about this one thing because it seems to make Eden feel good to know that she’s going to them for safety from something she feels this threatened by.

She’s not sure if Eden actually believes her, but she doesn’t care either. They don’t seem likely to tell her to see a doctor about it at least - and regardless, the point that she regrettably feels better with them remains.

They’ve probably seen her have some nasty panic attacks. No fucking clue what to do, though. As long it’s not about them or her position with them, they seem fairly likely to just kinda.... Let her do her thing, as long as she doesn’t do anything dangerous. Appreciates that she tries to do it quietly.

#Degrees of Lewdity #Clara (DoL PC)#Robin the Orphan #Sydney the Faithful #Sydney the Fallen #Doren the English Teacher #Kylar the Loner #Avery the Businessperson #Darryl the Club Owner #Eden the Hunter

27 notes · View notes

iguana-braces · 2 years

Text

Hangman Headcanons Pt.5

Last part for right now/possibly today because I’m off to see NOPE! But feel free to keep sending stuff in, I’ll be back at some point

Jake is incredibly self-aware. Yes, he knows exactly how OTT he is, he knows what a massive dick he can be, but he's just taught himself to stop giving a fuck. Caring about the feelings of everyone around you takes a lot of energy and effort, it’s much easier and much less painful to only care about yourself (he learned that one from his dad 🙃)

Is very easily swayed by his emotions, but always has to repress it repress it repress it. ~Conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know~ Right up until the point where his repression bottle explodes and he lashes out or does something stupid and impulsive (aka, taunting someone about their dead father just to get picked for a mission because he has to be the best and the favorite all the time)

Gets so jealous so fucking easily, but refuses to actually show it for the reason above. And he knows it’s not healthy to want to be the center of your attention (because self-awareness) but sometimes he just can’t help it.

The quickest and most psychologically damaging way to piss him off is to purposely ignore him. Especially if you’re ignoring him in favor of spending time with someone else.

Can cut and run like nobody’s business. You get in an argument, you say something hurtful just for the sake of being hurtful, he’ll be out the door before you even have a chance to apologize. He’ll go AWOL for a while, ignoring your texts and calls to give you a taste of your own medicine because he’s a dramatic bitch at heart. But once he calms down, he’ll be open for reconciliation, it’ll just take a while before he fully gets over it.

Send me your Hangman Headcanons, let’s read this man for filth

#jake hangman seresin #hangman headcanon thursday

7 notes · View notes

artsoulgoddess · 2 years

Text

smashing eggshells

“Let me ask you something. Do you trust yourself?”

You have asked me this question my whole life. And I never was able to say yes confidently before now. You made me believe that I was someone that couldn’t be trusted, someone who was broken and flawed, someone that needed guidance. So I trusted you with everything, everything. Blindly, innocently.

It’s a rerun of the chapter I lived ten years ago. I have realized recently just how carefully I have been walking on eggshells the last decade. Sometimes it is easier for things to explode rather than cutting the shapes out. In a way I am grateful.

But here I am at 27 and I am facing the same reality that I had when I was a teenager. But this time, I am more equipped to handle this. This time, you have been exposed. I keep reminding myself that I can do anything I want. I couldn’t then-- I was trapped. Now I am free. But do I feel free? I have the potential to feel free-- but I have to be the one to gift that to myself. Free is foreign to me. For so long I have been trying to figure out how to cope with the anxiety and depression that comes from seeing them. For so long I have been trying to fit myself into a shape that I am not, just in order to stay connected to them and not get abused in the midst of it.

It’s not the schism that hurts, but the way that it happened. The way that it stole a very special time in my life when I should be celebrating. Instead of holding up a champagne glass, I am digging a grave. I can still remember the way I was picturing our celebration— I felt apprehensive about having everyone in one room together. But part of me trusted that maybe this was the time in my life when I could have a bit of unity. I let myself invite that feeling in— the feeling of peace and love. I was let down.

This is the kind of thing that you spend your life recovering from, the kind of thing that leaves a residue in your heart. I am not trying to convince myself that cutting them out of my life will cut out the pain. I have been going through this since I was born and it has been sewn in my soul. But I need the space to hold myself properly. I refuse for my psyche to be thrown around by them anymore. Absolutely not.

A part of me, my inner child-- is upset that I didn’t leave sooner. Why did I go back after rehab? I thought that reconnecting with them would be a true sign of my recovery. Why did I give myself away, why did I give in to the game. I never had stability, and even though the abuse killed my soul, at least it was consistent and I knew how to navigate it. I needed support, and abusive support was all I ever had. Be this way + do this thing + believe this + you must be liked + you will be accepted = we will support you. It always amazes me that the second I veer from this formula, I get dropped. Bye, you were worth nothing.

The thing about becoming a therapist is that I have had to analyze every FUCKING area of my life so deeply. When you see things, you can’t unsee them. I saw many things that shocked me about my life. And I had no choice but to face them. So much repression, denial, people pleasing, anxiety, fear. My trauma weighed me down. Becoming a therapist completely turned my life upside down and allowed me to realize that I was not truly myself. I was just a reflection of others’ opinions of me. What came next was the smashing of mirrors until my reflection was completely shattered. And I started from the soul up, building myself back into my authentic self.

I don’t question my reality or my emotions anymore. I have studied narcissism deeply. I am not guilting myself anymore, for feeling the hurt that follows a life of being abused. It is not wrong to leave.

I’m sorry that I couldn’t leave sooner. I’m sorry that I couldn’t hold on longer. I continue to apologize to all the parts of myself that have awaken because of everything that fell apart. I wanted a family. That feeling of being apart of something. I was looking in the wrong place for it.

Now I begin the chapter of my life where I can exist as my true self. No hiding, no masks, no mr. nice guy just to keep the peace. I have shed the toxic cloak I was trapped in. I continue to shed people, places, and things. It may appear that I have nothing, no one-- but inside I am full.

The week that this all happened, I submitted art pieces for a group art show with my colleagues. The three pieces focused on exploring family and uncovering abuse. It is the first time I have openly admitted that I have been abused. It felt like I was displaying the secret of my life. It felt like I had finally arrived. What a moment in time-- what a moment.

I’m engaged to someone that helped me save myself, I’m embracing the people in my life, I’m about to graduate, I’m about to move in with my love, I’m about to write my book, I’m about to do whatever I want and make my life what it is meant to be. And I am truly so proud of myself, and though things have a layer of darkness to them, I feel so at peace. I’ve accepted duality.

Please let me be misunderstood.

#soul

1 note · View note

byronictrash · 3 years

Text

so I was thinking about the whole hbo supernatural thing and all I could think was how it would fit in my major spn interpretation which is TRANSFEM SAM WINCHESTER!!!!

• changed her name to samantha for pure praticity

• is a lesbian, so all the romantic part is pretty similar to the canon, monsterfucking and all

• in which dean got a little confused about the distinction of gender ≠ sexuality at first like “wait but why did you become a girl if you like girls?” (he doesn’t know a lot of queer people, give him some time)

• AND SPEAKING OF DEAN! the biggest ally of all times. at first he doesn’t understand lots of stuff that seems obvious to sam (“why are you putting on a suit?” “dean we’re going to a small town, the case will be way harder if everyone is staring at me”), asks indiscrety questions (“can i ask you something?” “it depends” “you wanna chop your dick off?” “NO YOU CANT ASK IT”) but over time he starts to get it more naturally

• despite his numerous hook-ups, dean has never spent so much time in his life in a company of a woman so even the smallest things are extraterrestrial to him (“hey whats that bowl in the microwave?” “depilatory wax” “OH CMON SAMMY I WAS GOING TO HEAT UP MY DINNER THERE”)

• of course, there would be a scene where they met some hunter friend of john who says shit about sam, misgender her etc and dean goes FERAL, fist fighting with the guy and stuff. later sam yells at dean, saying she doesn't need dean to protect her and the argument would escalate to all the times that dean treated her in a condescending way, dean yelling back that dad said it was his job to take care of her and sam yelling even louder that dad would probably dead by now (in this moment all the lamps in their room (and in the street) simply explode, but they ignore. it was probably some short circuit…. right?)

• ok lets talk about john. still the same asshole, still gave a gun to kid who was afraid of the boogeyman, still tried to summon azazel when his son was in comma in 02X01 BUT now he also has a whole series of microaggressions with sam. she’s not stupid, she know the dad she has so doesn’t come out until she’s in stanford, SO john finds out sam is trans in 01X16 when john see sam after two years wearing a skirt and holding a .45 gun. he looks at her up and down and doesn’t say anything however, suddenly stops calling sam sam and starts calling her strictly samuel.

• it got worse after s1 season finale with the whole azazel possessed john > sam had the opportunity of killing azazel/her dad > couldn’t do it > azazel escaped > the winchesters get hit by a truck. when sam questions her father about being worried about the colt while his own son is dying, john explodes with her “you know samuel this is all your fault, once again you couldn’t just man up and pull the fucking trigger, kill the thing, you had to be same old sissy and chicken off, if your brother dies its his blood in your hands”

• aaaaaanyway, lets go back to our girl :D

• her style is kinda a mess. makeup done in a hurry, most of her clothes are mid skirts, hoodies and long dresses but now and then she spends a week wearing baggy jeans and band t-shirts, like dean’s, and no makeup at all. when he asks her “where is the whole angry teen outfit?” sam would simply respond its “because of the praticity, it’s tough to fight with a vampire in a dress lol” dean knows its because sometimes sam’s internalized transphobia ft repression gets loud

• her music taste is mostly grunge, punk and some alt bands she discover in stanford but dean call all of it emo “oh fuck off sammy, i let you drive once and you already put this emo shit” “dean this is literally nirvana, you cant call everything made after the 80’s emo”

• when she came out to bobby his reaction was literally “so now you’re a girl?” “uh… yeah” “gonna change your name or something?” “now is samantha but sam is still fine” “okay, now look this sigil... (and went back to the lore they were searching)”

• sam’s catholicism being more portrained on screen and how the dilemma of being a Christian and queer filled sam with religious guilty

• her paranormal powers also showed up sooner and since the beginning she knew something was wrong. her throat felt sore every time she recited the rituale romanus and holy water made her skin itchy. the older she got, the harder those “symptoms” became and with her denial, desire to be normal combined with religious guilt, it was easier to just convince herself that all this was just god punishing her for living in sin.

• surprisingly, all the demons and angels (and most of the monsters) even being assholes treats sam with the right pronouns

• which make sam and cas fist encounter even more interesting because cas literally turns to dean and go “is this your sister, samantha winchester?” “yeah” “ABOMINATION”’

• samruby second (cause the real first was ruby killing the seven deadly sins and stuff) encounter on the other side was a little more like "why are you following me?” “because youre tall and tall women are sexy as fuck” (then sam’s brain was short circuited for a sec because her height make usually makes her dysphoric)

• between s3-s4, dean still in hell, there would be a scene of one of the first times that sam drank blood to exorcise a demon with her mind. so here they are, demon tied in a chair and trapped in a trap, sam with blood all over her chin and ruby looking at her all heart eyes. Sam tries to do the exorcism but it doesnt work so ruby says sam needs more blood. Sam responds that shes nauseous and if takes any more shes gonna puke (cause you know voluntary vampirism came too natural in canon and that disturbs me) so the demon, who's wearing a cheerleader as a vessel, laughs and says "you know sammy, for real women blood tends to be a natural thing". ruby kills her on the spot.

• speaking of the catholicism (and the blood drinking) again, sam prays every single time before/after drinking demon blood, ruby mocks her for it but she doesnt care. its a weird feeling because even thinking that what shes doing is right, that she needs to get strong to kill lilith, it still feels bad, unholy in some sense.

• of course lucifer tempted her in s5 not only appearing as jess but also saying things like "why samantha, after all, are you willing to sacrifice yourself for a society that treats you like scum, that looks at you like a freak?"

• no need to say that in 05x04 "The End" episode when dean faces lucifer using sam as his vessel, she's wearing an outfit way cooler than that abbey-road-john-lennon-white-suit (to know what i mean search amanda seyfried 2018 met gala look THATS WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT!!!!!)

• even after being clean of blood drinking, sam still has some of her paranormal powers. she can't do exorcises with her mind anymore but she can move small objects with telekinesis (she doesn't do it in front of dean cause she knows it would scares the fuck out of him)

i also had a list of some episodes rewritten in this au but this list is already long, guess i'll post later

#daaaaaaamn i have so many feelings about this #hbo supernatural #trans sam winchester #supernatural #samruby #transfem sam #lesbian sam winchester #kripke era #yeah im projecting #headcanon #mine

131 notes · View notes

idontblushsrry · 3 years

Text

SFW Alphabet|| Megumi Fushiguro

A/N: Uhhhh I’m back on my bullshit >:) it’s missing Fushiguro hours folks.

Word Count: 2050

A: Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

(If you want some more in depth affection headcanons click here)

Fushiguro is someone who isn’t big on pda but makes up for it in private. In public, he’ll hold your hand but in private he’s laying i your lap while you massage his scalp. Basically, he’s a big softie that just represses his urge to cuddle until he’s alone with you.

B: Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Best friend Megumi is literally the president of the Y/N defense squad. If anyone has a problem with you, they have a problem with him. Of course, you have to rein him in sometimes and remind him you can fight your own battles, but just know he’s lookin out for you.

C: Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Fushiguro loves to cuddle, but he will repress the urge to do so for as long as possible. Because of that, he doesn’t let you go, preferring to cling to you throughout the night. His cuddles are always deceptively loose too. His arms give you just enough wiggle room but the second you try to get up, it’s like fighting two pythons.

D: Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

I don’t think he ever really planned on settling down, Megumi figured that he’d die long before he ever got the chance to settle down. Everyday is pretty much a new experience in terms of domesticity for him, he doesn’t have plans for the future, but as long as you’re with him, he’ll be happy.

E: Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If he ever had to break up with someone, he’d probably ask for help on how to do so. The first person he’d ask (regrettably) would be Gojo who’d tell Megumi to just ghost the person. After asking around some more, he figured Kugisaki’s approach of getting it over with as bluntly as possible (although less mean) was the best option.

F: Fiance(e) (How would they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Megumi isn’t really the type for wedding ceremonies. He’s all about commitment (even though working up to marriage for him is longer than most) but he’s not a fan of being the center of attention, so a wedding ceremony/reception wouldn’t be his thing. If you wanted a ceremony, he’d be willing to compromise somewhat but otherwise, he’s perfectly fine with just going to the courthouse.

G: Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He’s kind of rough around the edges. In private, he can be the sweetest, most tender soul, but in public he’ll put 7 yards of distance between you both if you try to hug him. Basically, he’s very shy, so anything that’ll draw too much attention is a no go (he isn’t opposed to linking pinkies though).

H: Hugs( Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?

At first Megumi really only hugged you when he was missing you, sad, or tired. Over time though, he got better at becoming more open with his affection and he’ll hug you whenever he feels the urge to. Despite that though, his hugs still have an undercurrent of desperation in them. He holds on just as tight each time like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

I: I love you (How fast do they say the L-word)

He’s operating on a very strict ‘If you don’t say it, I won’t’ policy and as such this man will not say a single thing to you unless prompted. He knows deep down that he loves you and that you set off butterflies in his stomach every time you smile, but he never really thought to verbalize that until you say ‘I love you’ first.

J: Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous)

Megumi doesn’t get jealous, he’s fought side by side with you and he knows you’re more than capable of fending off any unwanted suitors. Megumi put a lot of trust into you by already being in a relationship so to him, it makes no sense to be jealous over you. That all being said, he’s not above the occasional side eye if someone’s getting a little too buddy buddy.

K: Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

On a normal day, his kisses are so natural, he’s so slow and the pressure is just enough to have you thinking you’ve got all the time in the world. In near death/ post-near death circumstances, he’s a little more feral. When he kisses you like that, it feels like it’s the end of the world and he’s trying to make the most of it.

L: Little ones (How are they around children)

Fushiguro isn’t good with kids that aren’t old enough to communicate. Older kids are fine with him, but guessing what a baby needs based on how loud it’s crying? Hard pass for him and he doesn’t even feel bad about it. The last time he had to watch a baby, he tried to leave one of his shikigami to watch it; long story short, he had to explain to a cackling Gojo why his demon dogs wouldn’t let him leave to go to the bathroom.

M: Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings with Fushiguro are pretty rare. Most of the time you guys don’t really get to sleep in or even spend mornings together since most of the time there’s missions or trainings you’ll have to go to. When you do get the rare morning off, Fushiguro makes the most of it. He sleeps in and doesn’t wake up before 10 no matter what you try. When he does finally wake up, he loves cooking breakfast with you, he’s not the best cook, but he treasures the experience over anything.

N: Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights with Megumi are also rare as most curses come out at night and that’s kinda your guys’ job. If all goes well though, you’ll both come back a little earlier and just go straight to sleep. If it’s a late night where the curse took more out of either of you than expected, yall usually stay up and talk and snack until one of you falls asleep or the sun comes up.

O: Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It takes him an extremely long time to open up to you about his past. Not because he doesn’t trust you, but because he’s embarrassed and doesn’t want you to think less of him for it (especially during his problem child era). To be honest, you probably find out about certain things from other people. Once he’s cornered confronted, he’ll be completely (albeit a bit grudgingly) honest about it.

P: Patience (How easily angered are they?)

His anger is kind of weird, whereas before, he was a lot quicker to explode, bluntly telling off or even fighting whoever pissed him off, he’s changed. He tries his best to repress his emotions and as such, he comes off as patient, never expressing his true feelings/desires until pushed to the brink.

Q: Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He’s the king of remembering details you mention in passing. His love language is partially acts of service so for him, remembering details about you helps him later. Oh remember that one time you needed a pen/pencil but didn’t have one? Never again, this man has a section of his shadows dedicated solely to pencils because of you. Oh what’s that, you like this random song? Guess what just got added to the playlist he made for you. Basically, while he may not look like it, he’s actually a simp and so if he can make your life easier/ make you happy, it’s worth it.

R: Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

So Megumi is someone who doesn’t play video games but is really good at them for no reason. One day, you’re playing a game of smash bros. and he’s just kicking your ass, like it was sad. Needless to say, after his 4th win, he “accidently” pressed the wrong button and let you win. He thinks you don’t know he did this but when you won, you kissed him and completely flustered him, to the point that he couldn’t play for a solid 5 minutes.

S: Security (How protective are they? How would they like to be protected?)

Despite knowing and trusting that you can defend yourself, he’s still super protective of you. You’re one of the few people that he cares about in the world and he’d give everything to see you safe and protected. As for how he’d like to be protected, knock some sense into him every once in a while. He has a habit of self sacrificing so if you want to protect him, remind him that you want to keep him alive as much as he wants to keep you alive.

T: Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

On the outside, his dates are very simple. They usually consist of you and him either staying in or just hanging out at stores and the like. Every once in a while, he’ll try to take you somewhere special, like a cove he found or a festival. For most people, these may be simple dates, but Fushiguro puts so much effort into so may aspects of your dates that honestly, anything bigger would lose the personal touch your dates have.

U: Ugly (What are some bad habits of theirs? (I’m gonna add arguments here because they aren’t on the prompt list I found))

One of his worst habits is his self-sacrificing tendencies. Even during a baseball game, he can’t help but sacrifice himself (especially if it means his friends/ you get to get the glory). With time though, he grows out of this and realizes it’s not selfish to want the best for yourself.

V: Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He’s giving “I woke up like this” and it’s... it’s something. One might think the style is intentional since obviously, the look could only be achieved with gel, and to an extent, it is intentional. He might use gel to spike it a little more but the man legit rolls out of bed and chooses to leave his hair up like that.

W: Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

No, as much as he loves you, Fushiguro is an introvert. He needs time to just be by himself and unwind every once in a while, so he’s got no complaints if you leave him to his own devices or have to be gone for a long time.

X: (E)xes (Any previous relationship experience. How does that factor into your current relationship?)

Megumi has negative zero relationship experience. He’s never found someone that was worth the risk/ worth opening up to, hell, he just barely got friends when he entered high school. Because of this, every part of your relationship is like navigating uncharted waters.

Y: Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner)

He’s less someone to dislike a specific thing/ personality trait, and more someone who doesn’t like different people for different reasons, ex. Todo and Mai. If he had to pick a single trait, it’d probably have to be hypocriticism.

Z: Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

He is someone who will fall asleep spread eagle one night and the next be huddled into a tiny little section of the bed. Mercy on you if you try to cuddle because now you’re wrapped up into his unconscious acrobatic routine.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen imagines #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro jjk #jjk x black reader #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk headcanons #black reader #black!reader #idontblushsrry #x black reader

274 notes · View notes

mamamittens · 2 years

Text

It's time for their strongest attacks!

I'll refer to them by their card suit name to make it easier on myself, but here's the breakdown for anyone who hasn't seen my card suit au Ace designs.

Top left - Clover/Club

Top right - Heart

Bottom left -Diamond (Exquisite Control au Ace)

Bottom right - Spade

Center - Ann (just female Ace redesign, tbh)

Might add a break here when I'm not on mobile, lol

Brief mentions of suicidal tendencies.

Clover

There's no name for this attack because Clover has repressed his devil fruit due to trauma in his childhood and guilt!

But if it did? It would be called Greek Fire, because it will never go out unless Clover makes it or is killed/knocked out.

It's just an uncontrollable explosion of fire that spreads much like when Gray Town Terminal burned.

He'll end up trapped in his own memories until he faces his trauma head on and conquers it.

The further his mental spiral goes the more devastating the fire becomes.

Best solution is to either get away fast or break through his mental block (Aka, GET LUFFY). Garp will knock him out but the trauma will remain cause that man kinda sucks with emotional support and Clover looks up to him. He'll probably be worse off because he'll view it as failing his grandfather.

Obviously, Whitebeard and Co will also have an easier time getting through but he won't tell anyone wtf his trauma is willingly. So not exactly a plan I'd count on in a pinch unless you're willing to shelf the trauma unpacking for the next time he implodes from stress.

Diamond

Hellfire. Though calling it an attack is misleading.

It's really just him letting go of his inhibitions and using his fire with pinpoint accuracy and control.

A real 'scorched Earth' kind of move.

Capable of spontaneously combusting anything remotely flammable and boiling the nearby ocean through proximity.

He has a spooky level of control for his fire and it is hella scary. Think the prom scene in Carrie.

In theory you could knock him out, but he'll definitely see you coming cause he's completely calm like this.

Very confidently in control almost to the point of arrogance. But his temper is gone at this point, so definitely don't insult him or do anything stupid.

He gets really cruel like this.

Heart

Firecracker.

He's literally punching you with a contained firework. Usually preceded by smaller cracks of fire to blind his opponent.

If you can see past that, well, you still have to deal with his normal punch strength amplified by the force of an explosion.

Best advice is to dodge like hell, cause this won't be pretty if it hits you.

And watch out for rogue sparks. He can let smaller pops go off without direct contact.

Overall pretty brutal to all the senses.

Spade

Icarus' Fall. Usually preceded by a variation of Phoenix Rise to shoot him high into the air.

The most dangerous part is how it looks like it fails. By design. A very calculated risk and very indicative of his low-key suicidal drive.

Essentially, he launches himself high into the air to the point that the atmosphere thins out. Then, he passes out. His fire goes out. And he falls.

Have you ever seen a contained fire that suddenly got more oxygen? Like a candle you snuff out by placing the lid over it and lifting it too soon? How it bursts back to life? Yeah. This is that in action and with style.

When the oxygen and sensation of falling wakes him back up, his fire explodes out again and drives him down like a rocket.

How he ended his fight with Jinbe so quickly.

Everyone hates this move and everything it stands for because one wrong move and he's dead.

Not something Spade does lightly, though, so there's that.

Ann

Comet Strike! It's a lot like Firecracker, but just a straight ball of plasma fire.

The most dangerous part is how she controls it's trajectory and often fakes out her opponents by launching it and making it curve around them to hit her real target.

Of course, getting hit is no picnic either, cause it has a lot of punch to it. Often exploding on impact, the heat alone scorching.

She also can hit it like she's playing baseball with a massive bat. You know. Like Dadan's club. For extra distance hits of course, usually starting off with bigger balls of fire so they don't end up uselessly sailing through the air.

She can also make them break into smaller balls on impact for more spread damage but it gets a little wacky and out of control. Maybe a move she perfects later.

And that's it! That's my beans! Hope you guys enjoyed this silly thought I had.

That Work It Out event is still going, by the way, one last slot left!

@secretsnailor

@marco--the--phoenix

#one piece #portgas d ace #ace one piece #card suit au #portgas d ann #au headcanons #of my own design cause im wild like that #guest appearance by Jinbe #in tiny pixel glory like a where's Waldo

11 notes · View notes

keilemlucent · 4 years

Text

the sex party: ii

(r18+)

shinsou hitoshi x reader

ao3

part 1 || part 2 (you’re here!)

word count: ~9k

You and Hitoshi definitely have a thing for each other, but who would've thought that a 'sex party' would produce a confession?

warnings:

COLLEGE AU! characters are explicitly aged up to college students as early 20 year olds!

not really a sex party, mutual pining, friends to lovers, confessions, reader is canonically bi, brief momo x reader, light dom/sub, spanking, references to drug use, smoking (cigarettes, salem trademarked fic thing), drinking, and smut

---------

once again, thank you to @keiqos for editing, absolute gem :’^). now read and take this nice fluff and smut!!!

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||

Hitoshi hailed the gang outside just before calling an Uber, vaguely explaining what happened and that you were both headed back towards campus. Denki and Jiro assured the two of you that they’d find the fucker and get him thrown out and spit on.

“What a fucker, I’m sorry that happened, (Y/N),” Jiro frowned, eyebrows creased with anger. She cracked her knuckles.

You felt your chest tighten as you smiled back reflexively, “It’s alright. I’m just glad it's over.”

Mina grabbed your shoulders, “I’m going to ruin him for ya’, (Y/N). Ruin.”

She was deadpanned about it, waving a quick goodbye before running into the party to presumably go and kick the guy’s ass. The rest of the party peers followed, leaving with a similar sentiment and a lot of anger.

Denki remained, rubbing the back of his neck, “Are y’all headed back to the house then?”

You nodded, eyeing Shinsou, “Yeah, back to your guys’ place.”

Denki’s eyebrows raised, a wicked grin coming to his face.

Hitoshi gave a half-hearted glare.

Denki continued looking smitten as all hell. He gave Hitoshi a quick hug and crushed one into you. He flitted back in the house with a lightness in his steps that showed distinctly that he was far more drunk than he was letting on.

...

Part of you had a feeling that the night was far from over.

The Uber arrived a few minutes later, smelling of cheap air freshener and stale cologne. You climbed into the back seat as far as you could go. You expected Hitoshi to take the passenger’s side, but he slid beside you, buckling himself into the middle seat.

You didn’t say anything, but you mentally thanked him.

Considering the number of weird friend boundaries (when were you going to be honest with yourself, god, just say it) that had been breached already, you let yourself fall just the slightest bit into Hitoshi’s side as the car began to move.

Hitoshi continued tapping around on his phone one-handed, all to wrap an arm around the back of your seat, half around your shoulder. You relished his heat and let the details fade away as you stared out of the car window.

At some point, Hitoshi put his phone away, stuffing into the pocket of his jeans.

“Your jacket—” You spoke up, but Hitoshi quickly and quietly shushed you, squeezing your shoulder.

“I already had Momo grab it, no big deal,” You hadn’t realized how close he was until the heat of his breath rolled over your ear. “It’s much more important to make sure you’re feeling alright.”

Why is he so nice?

You remained silent, hyper-aware of the softness of your bare thigh pressing against Hitoshi’s own. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, the warmth of his breath so close to your face in such a small space.

And you wanted more.

The neon lights of the city reappeared, growing brighter as the two of you neared Hitoshi’s home. Your mind swirled and spun with revelation after revelation.

How the fuck had you not realized how much you liked Hitoshi sooner?

I mean, it was obvious, but repression really does things to a person.

The Uber finally pulled up to Hitoshi’s home. The two of you swiftly went inside, an odd silence between the two of you.

As you stepped out of your heels, Hitoshi broke it from the living room.

“What if I told you I ordered food from that one late-night diner and it’ll be here in ten minutes?” Hitoshi glanced up from his phone with a dashing smile, the kind only you got to see.

It made you want to fucking explode.

You cracked your own, standing fully and stretching your toes, “I’d say ‘thank god, and god is Hitoshi Shinso.”

“You flatter me,” He chuckled, waltzing into the living room. You followed, aware of the eerie quiet that the house carried. It was rare that Hitoshi’s home was fully uninhabited and fully soundless.

It made your thoughts seem even louder.

“Want anything? Water? I can make us some drinks if you’re still in that mood,” Hitoshi offered, already moving towards the kitchen.

It felt like you were going to burst.

“Water is okay, I’m not really feeling like drinking anymore.” You laughed softly, rubbing the back of your neck. You were desperately trying to relieve your own internal tension, but you just fucking couldn’t.

Hitoshi returned a moment later with a glass for you and a kind gaze, regarding you were the most sacred thing in the world. The glass trembled in your grip as you refused to maintain eye contact with him.

You really couldn’t handle any more of this.

“You tired? I can set up the couch for you if you wanna lie down, unless you want me to walk you back to your dorm?” Hitoshi asked, moving towards the linen closet to grab your usual sheets and blankets. Hitoshi obviously sensed your discomfort and the bastard was too nice for his own fucking good, trying to cater to your every fucking need.

He’s way too nice.

...

You made your decision in that moment.

You swallowed, tongue feeling thick in your mouth. Fear wormed its way into your gut, but you spoke through it.

“Actually, can we talk?” You hated the way how your voice trembled.

Your knees felt weak when you saw Hitoshi’s expression fall, pretty violet orbs drooping.

Both of you were well aware of what the conversation would be about.

Hitoshi stopped across the room, turning to you. His brow was furrowed with anxiety. His voice came out sticky, pushing, “I think you’ve had a long night.”

Fuck it.

Tell him.

How much longer can you keep this up anyway?

“It’s going to feel a lot longer if I’m sleeping on the couch when I want to be in your bed.”

The silence that stunned the room echoed louder than anything you had ever heard before. You stared down at your feet, ignoring the way overemotional tears began to gather in your eyes. Your vision clouded, but your mouth kept spewing.

It had to.

“Hitoshi, I like you. A lot more than friends like each other.”

More silence.

You hold back sniffles.

You’re fucking up your whole friendship.

“And I know, our flirting has always been teasing, but I think it became real for me at some point.”

More silence.

“I don’t want to fuck up our friendship. You’re my best friend, Hitoshi, and I really, really care about you. And, I don’t want to throw away our friendship over a crush, okay? I just needed to get this off my chest. We can just forget I ever said anything if that’s easier.”

Your own arms come to wrap around yourself, thumbs making idle circles in an attempt to unconsciously soothe yourself.

You could hear Hitoshi take a few steps towards you, inhaling like he was going to speak, but quickly cutting himself off.

Ouch.

A few stray tears ran tracks down your face.

Your lip wobbled as you spoke, “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner, and that I teased you so much while feeling like this, I just didn’t notice—”

“(Y/N).” Hitoshi stood in front of you, low voice shocking you from your thought.

You refused to look up at him.

“H-hey, how about I just go back to my dorm? I’m sorry—” You sputtered, rubbing at your eyes as the carpet grew blurry beneath you.

You felt so fucking pathetic. Maybe it was because it took you this long to figure out your own feelings and say something about them. Maybe, it was because you were fairly certain you were capital l in Love with Hitoshi, yet you didn’t even have the guts to look at you as you confessed.

Maybe, it was all because you were so damn terrified that it was all of these possibilities making you drown in your own insecurities.

Hitoshi, diligent and mindful as ever, took note, even if you didn’t notice.

“(Y/N), look at me.” Hitoshi’s damn near commanded, but you somehow ignored him, spiraling deeper.

You couldn’t keep yourself from shaking as your voice cracked, “I’m so fucking sorry, Hitoshi. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’ll be better, we can—”

And then there were hands, large and soft cupping your jaw, gently forcing your gaze up.

You shook even harder, unable to avoid him any longer.

Your breath felt leached from your lungs when you finally met Hitoshi’s endlessly sweet gaze.

Hitoshi’s eyes were so fucking soft. There was this melancholic smile on his face that made alarms go off in your skull.

He’s going to reject you.

You got the wrong idea.

You sucked down another sob as you tried to lower your head, but Hitoshi’s grip only became firmer. His thumb rubbed away some of your tears as he released a soft sigh.

A moment of quiet passed between the two of you. The teasing, fleeting glances and lustful eye fucking of the earlier night were long gone. All that remained was a tense string of vulnerability that both of you were terrified of.

You were shaking so hard in his grip.

You didn’t notice, but he was shaking too, desperately trying to keep his breathing even.

You blinked up at him, just waiting for him to reject you.

(Like Hitoshi would ever do that—)

“Can I kiss you?” Oh, his voice rolled so low and deep over you, you could’ve died.

Your eyes widened, and all you could do was nod, brain sluggishly following the situation.

He shook his head, lowering his head just a bit closer to your eye level. So ardently did he refuse to look away from you.

“I need you to say it, (Y/N).” He kept himself composed but god, he was struggling.

You gulped, leaning into Hitoshi’s hands for comfort.

“Yes, please,” Your voice came out soft, breaking and needy and Hitoshi wanted every bit of it.

His face hovered in front of yours for a moment, eyes tracing your features with such reverence.

And then his lips were on yours and all of your mutually stored tension broke.

It shattered.

His lips were soft, so different from what you secretly fantasized about. You expected some sort of roughness to him, but now that you were so sinfully close, he radiated calm and sweetness that you could almost taste.

Hitoshi was so gentle with you, one of his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you even closer.

You moved your lips against his, relishing the fact that he was there and you were there. Maybe it was fleeting, maybe he would pull away and say he just wanted to fuck and you’d have to have that conversation. But, in that moment, you just sank into Hitoshi’s touch, throwing your arms over his shoulders and tangling deft fingers into his unruly hair.

You could handle whatever future you were given. Just a morsel of Hitoshi’s soft but unbridled affections felt like more than enough.

(Little did you know how much of him you were to receive.)

Hitoshi pulled away, but hardly. He stayed so close to you, pupils blown wide as his breath fanned of your cheekbones. You so, so wanted to surge forward and drown in him, but you held yourself fast.

He surprised you by letting out his own shaking breath, all the way in his chest. Your eyes widened.

“You’re such an idiot—” Hitoshi laughed and you faltered for a moment. It must’ve shown on your face because his hands started rubbing at your sides.

He kissed you softly again. Something chaste and sweet, like a type of summer fruit that stains your lips.

He pulled away again, lips parted and scanning you.

“You have to say it.” You told him, trying to keep your voice firm, but failing.

“Say what?” He teased, peppering the side of your face with kisses.

You made a small, half-annoyed noise, pushing lightly at his choice, “You know what, Hitoshi.”

He paused, dragging you tighter to him. A hand came up to cup your neck, fingers tracing idle patterns on your pulse point.

The look he wore (so well) was one of pure tenderness that made you ache in the best possible way.

“Of course I like you.” Hitoshi kissed you again.

You were too stunned for words.

Hitoshi kept going, his own tension apparently having broken as well.

(Duh.)

“You have no fucking idea how much I adore you—” He spoke against your lips, hands digging into your sides as you pulled lightly at his hair. You both craved closeness and finally had it. “How much I’ve wanted this, you—”

You whine into his mouth, pressing into him with everything you had.

His touch felt heavenly. After so many months, years of pent up romantic and sexual tension, his hands felt like divine fire against you. Every part of you ached for more of him, as now you were finally able to express your desires.

You pulled away, just enough to lean your foreheads together. Hitoshi’s pupils were blown wide, flickering from your eyes to your lips.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You asked, voice still small.

Hitoshi chuckled, popping a quick kiss onto your nose, “Honestly? I didn’t want you to think I was only your friend because I wanted fuck you.”

Your insides twisted.

“Do... you only want to fuck?” You asked, any movement to pull away blocked by Hitoshi’s hold on you. Your heart hammered in your chest.

You definitely wanted more than just a fuck, but you’d take what you could get.

(You wouldn’t have to.)

“Oh, no, not at all,” Hitoshi spoke matter of factly, wearing the smuggest grin. His lips went to just below the shell of your ear, “There’s plenty more that I want from you, (Y/N).”

“Hitoshi,” You nearly moaned his name as his lips brushed against your ear. “You g-gotta be careful, saying shit like that.”

“Why's that?” Hitoshi’s lips met the fragile skin of your neck and sank into him.

“You k-know why,” Your words trembled as he left trails of kisses against your neck.

All you wanted was more.

“Tell me. I love hearing your voice,” Hitoshi crooned against your neck, pressing at the small of your back so you arched into him.

His words were so damn sweet, it made you melt inside and out as a high moan dribbled from your lips.

Hitoshi nearly growled against your neck, sucking at the skin at your collar. You fisted the back of his sweater, toes curling against the carpet—

And then a soft knock echoed from the door.

You both stopped dead, freezing.

Quickly, Hitoshi straightened out, but not before pressing a loving kiss to the skin he bruised.

“Foods here.” He smiled at you as you breathed, open-mouth and near panting.

-------------------------------

Hitoshi came back from the door with the food, setting it on the coffee table and falling onto the couch. You followed suit as Hitoshi took out a few takeout boxes, handing one to you.

“I got that breakfast combination you always get, I hope that’s okay,” Hitoshi passed you a fork as you nodded.

“How are you so calm right now?” You asked, turning to him and folding your legs under your body.

Hitoshi turned as well, raising an eyebrow and holding up one of his hands between the two of you.

It was shaking violently.

“Not calm, at all. Just composed,” Hitoshi broke into his own food, taking a bite. “Eat something, (Y/N).”

You couldn’t fight him on that. Despite the elated, anxious, (horny) twisting of your gut, the smell of comfort food soothed you after such an eventful night.

The two of you ate in relative silence, both in shared contemplation. It was comfortable, sounds of the city neighborhood and old house filling the space with enough ambient noise to feel natural.

You finally set down your empty box, eyes flickering to Hitoshi as he finished off his food, a bit of egg stuck to his fork.

“I was being serious earlier, you know,” You rubbed at the fabric of your dress, suddenly very aware of the way it rode so high. “About sleeping in your bed rather than the couch.”

“I figured you were,” Hitoshi replied, setting his own food down to face you. “I never said you couldn’t.”

“Let’s clear the air then, if that’s okay,” You asked, a bit uncertain.

It all felt a lot better when Hitoshi grabbed one of your hands, rubbing his thumb along your knuckles. He nodded to you to keep talking.

“So, I like you. You like me.” You began.

Hitoshi nodded again, a cute smile creeping at the corners of his mouth.

“You... don’t just want to fuck?” Your words sounded unsure, but Hitoshi quickly nodded.

“I’d prefer more, but I’ll take what I can get,” Hitoshi shrugged.

You definitely felt somewhat settled and a whole lot less insecure.

If anything, you felt bold.

Very bold.

Before Hitoshi could react, you shoved Hitoshi’s shoulder into the back of the couch. Your bare legs went over either side of Hitoshi’s built thighs, squeezing as you straddled him.

You could feel the way your dress rode up, almost showing off your ass.

(Not like Hitoshi already hadn’t seen it that night—)

You stared him up and down with lowered lips, biting your lip gently.

His violet tresses were wild, roughed up from the night’s events. His cheeks were stained pink, eyes tearing over your figure.

His hands darted to your waist, rubbing his thumbs over your ribs.

“What do you want?” Hitoshi asked, finally breaking his composure with cute, breathless words.

Your trembling hands cupped his face as you leaned into him. Your ghosted your lips over his, breath mingling as you spoke, well aware of what you were doing.

“I just want you, Hitoshi. All of you. I think I have for a long time.”

That was enough for the two of you.

Hitoshi grabbed at you with a possession that made your insides turn to jelly. His lips pressing to your own, licking in your mouth with a fervor that you craved. One of his hands moved to just below your ass, squeezing the flesh with a grip that was sure to bruise. His other hand tangled into your hair, pulling you to angle your mouth just right against his own.

His actions had a fever to them, hands and lips moving in a way that pulled and pushed you perfectly. You knew from goddamn kink night, that Hitoshi was a far more dominant person, but now that you were getting a personal taste? You felt intoxicated by his demanding touch.

All you could do was grab onto the front of his sweater, kissing him with everything you had.

As Hitoshi’s hand slid up to your ass, you experimentally ground down on the growing bulge in his jeans.

He let out a broken moan, roughly grabbing your backside and moving for you to repeat the motion. You arched into the friction, keening in the back of your throat as Hitoshi nipped at your jaw.

“Fuck, Hitoshi,” You moaned, your hands trailing down his chest to tease at the hem of his sweater.

Hitoshi wasn’t one to be beat, licking a line from your collarbone to your ear, biting and kissing to his heart's content. Your hips stuttered against his own, both of you moaning in tandem. His hardened cock pressing against your practically bare sex made your head spin with potential.

You grabbed at his hips beneath his sweater, dipping just below his waistband—

Suddenly, Hitoshi pulled away from your neck, breathing hard and slow. He swallowed, grabbing your face in both of his hands and peppering slow kisses all over your face.

“You have no fucking idea—” Hitoshi kissed your roughly, squeezing at your jaw. You moaned so prettily for him as he swallowed your sounds with a groan. He pulled away, sighing deeply, “how badly I want to keep going, but—”

You finished his sentence, sighing and touching your forehead to his, “It has been a long night.”

Hitoshi made a noise of agreement, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead before you pulled back, “Is that alright?”

You shook out your own breath, nodding, “Of course. I want to keep going too, but I don’t want to rush anything. Wanna make sure we’re comfy, you know?”

Hitoshi rumbled out a laugh, pulling you into a solid embrace. His nose pressed into the juncture between your neck and shoulder, nuzzling into you, “You gotta stop being so sweet, (Y/N).”

You raised your eyebrow, threading your hands through his hair, feeling how he instantly relaxed into your touch, “What did I do?”

“I mean, your existence is pretty sweet. Cute too. Sexy. Hot. I could go on,” Hitoshi nipped at your neck, daring to suck gently at the weak skin. “But, I think that would just rile me up more.”

“Good point,” You gently tugged his hair to bring his face back to yours. “Your room?”

He kissed you in reply.

The shattering of tension left a gentle warmth running through you, and you couldn’t wait to see what else was to come.

----------------------------------

The two of you swayed upstairs hand-in-hand.

It felt weirdly domestic, rubbing off your makeup with the cleansing wipes you had long stored at Hitoshi’s for late nights studying or drinking.

He stood next to you, brushing his teeth in a roomy tee and sweats. You still wore your party dress, rumpled and a bit too dirty for comfort. You found yourself glaring your body down, remembering the very sour event of the evening. Your skin crawled and itched.

Hitoshi caught it easily. He knew you so well.

“You wanna ‘showber?” Hitoshi’s words came out garbled through the foam in his mouth.

“That might be best, yeah,” You sighed in some form of defeat, nervously rubbing your arms for a moment. Hitoshi spit and rinsed as you finished removing the mascara from your eyes.

As you finished, Hitoshi urged you to sit on the toilet seat, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he darted from the room. You straightened up at the freely given affection, loving the way your heart pounded. He returned quickly, carrying a fluffy towel and a pile of folded clothes.

“Take your time. If you need anything, just shout, okay?” Hitoshi laid them on the counter and squatted down in front of you, taking your hands in his and squeezing.

You nodded.

It wasn’t the first time you had taken a shower at Hitoshi’s. You could only be thankful that he and Sero had good enough hygiene habits that it was fairly clean for a college house.

You felt damn near euphoric, getting to wash the sweat, fear, touches and smoke from your skin and hair. You took extra care to cleanse your body the best you could, washing everything properly and thoroughly.

(You know, just in case.)

(For the morning.)

You digress.

Warmed and feeling far more clean both mentally and physically, you toweled off and slipped into the clothes Hitoshi left. The shirt he gave you was way too large, nearly hanging off of one of your shoulders. He must’ve had it mixed in with laundry as it held the scent of his pine-ish cologne that had always made you melt. The sweats he loaned to you also fit poorly, but you didn’t mind too much.

You padded your way into Hitoshi’s room.

It was a familiar spot. Many nights were spent here drunkenly carousing with your pals, rolling on the worn hardwood. Many hours had been spent splayed out on the floor, both of you pouring over textbooks and academic journals, constructing brutal papers with the aid of unhealthy amounts of lukewarm black coffee.

Hitoshi’s room, for a long time, strangely, had been incredibly comfortable and safe. On a night like this one, you couldn't be more glad.

His room was dimly lit, yellowish string lights hung on the ceiling. They dimly illuminated the many gig posters, prints, and thrifted picture frames he had amassed over the years. A desk in the corner, an aged dresser, and a (blessedly) queen-sized bed with a comfy black duvet.

You blinked at Hitoshi, noting the lack of his usual clutter around the room, “Did you clean while I was in the shower?”

Hitoshi was standing in the corner, tapping away at his phone with a furrowed brow, but managed to look up and flash you a smile, “Maybe.”

You chuckled, walking up to him and comfortably wrapping your arms around his waist, burying your face in his arm. You felt him jump a bit, but quickly relax.

It was all new to both of you, but very welcome.

“Is everything alright?” You asked, watching the way Hitoshi frowned at his phone.

He ran a hand over his face, sighing, “How surprised would you be if I told you Denki and Hanta blacked out and puked on the way back?”

“Not very surprised, but still, yikes,” You looked up at Hitoshi. “Are they coming back here? I’ll babysit if you have to, too.”

He turned to give you a small, sympathetic smile, “That is very sweet of you, but it sounds like they’re going to crash Momo’s or Katsuki’s.”

You felt... suspicious.

You narrowed your eyes at him, eyes darting to your purse on his nightstand, “I haven’t checked the group chat, but did you put something in the group chat?

Hitoshi took a sharp inhale, a cute blush painting his nose and cheeks, “It may have slipped that we finally... said we liked each other.”

“May have?” You raised an eyebrow.

“There may have been a betting pool that I have just been made aware of—”

“Did... Did they all know?”

“And, they wanted to give us some privacy—”

You covered your face with your hands, leaning into him, “Jesus fucking—”

“Very considerate of them, considering,” Hitoshi sighed, pocketing his phone and wrapping his arms over your shoulders. “I’d much rather be sleeping next to you than dealing with blackout Denki.”

“True, true,” You sighed, uncovering your face to look up at Hitoshi. He was beaming at you with a look of adoration that made your chest ache. You frowned, “Are you gonna be able to sleep?”

You knew of Hitoshi’s insomnia well. Though you could manage to sleep, his inability to fall into slumber was something he wrestled with daily. You knew he was able to sleep some, but it was a great difficulty and was the root cause of his incessant caffeine consumption.

“I’m gonna try, if not, it’ll be okay, I’ll at least be very comfortable,” He rubbed his hands up and down your arms. “Besides, it’s easier to sleep next to someone.”

“Really?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. “Like, has it always been easier for you to sleep with someone?”

Hitoshi gave a little sigh, nodding.

“Dummy,” You snorted, lightly flicking his nose. “You could’ve asked me.”

“To... Sleep with me?” Hitoshi blinked down at you.

“Yeah. I would’ve said yes,” you shrugged easily. It was hardly a question. Even if you didn’t have incredibly strong feelings for Hitoshi, you would’ve tried to help. “I’ve always cared about you like that.”

Hitoshi closed his eyes and took a big inhale, the hands on your arms speeding up a little, “You have no idea what you do to me, do you, (Y/N)?”

Your gut dropped, “I don’t—”

Hitoshi didn’t give you a chance to fully answer him before leaning down abruptly and scooping you into his arms. Your arms flew to his neck for purchase as he cradled you to his chest, squeezing and walking to the bed.

“You are just so fucking sweet,” Hitoshi set you down on the bed, allowing you to adjust yourself to look up at him. You sat on your legs, kneeling while looking up at him.

He bit his lip, eyes widened and glassy looking down at you. You gulped as you heard his shaking breaths, felt his trembling hand cup your cheek.

“You’re way too good,” Hitoshi breathed, shaking his head.

The incredibly tense sexual aura of the moment dissipated as Hitoshi sat next to you on the bed, scooting to the inside of the mattress and pulling up the comforter.

Part of you was disappointed, feeling lingering pressure between your thighs, but the more sensical part of you was very tired and wanted nothing more than to finally hold Hitoshi and fall into sleep.

“Hey, get over here,” Hitoshi knocked you from your thoughts as his arms wrapped around your waist. He dragged you up, fitting you in the crook of his arm, pressing his nose into your hair. “If you’re in my bed, you’re gonna be in my bed, fully committed.”

“I’m not complaining,” You purred, more than satisfied with throwing your leg of his own, curling in his chest.

Part of you wanted to check, to confirm that all of this was okay. The night had been a lot and you were sure both of you were pretty keyed up from everything. Getting together with Hitoshi was hardly the outcome you expected of the ‘sex party,’ but you weren’t going to complain. Fuck, you could hardly do anything as Hitoshi’s cologne, heat, and firm body were already lulling your body to sleep.

“You are sleeping, aren’t ‘ya?” Hitoshi teased, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You made a small noise, the most you could muster before burying yourself at his collarbone.

Sleep quickly took you under, Hitoshi beaming you the sweetest smile and lavishing you with quiet, subtle affections as not to wake you.

--------------------------

You woke up to dawn light streaming in through a slit in a familiar set of curtains. You grumbled, half-awake, but really not wanting to move. You were too comfortable. Warmth filled your body, peace floated over your slumber-hazed mind and you couldn’t help letting out a content sigh.

The presence of heat let out a familiar chuckle.

You slowly opened your eyes again, becoming aware of the fact that you were half sprawled over Hitoshi. He was looking down at you, sweetly, eyebrow raised.

You literally gasped.

Hitoshi’s hair was tousled and far more wild with bedhead. The amethyst yolks of his eyes were lit up by the early morning light, and he just beamed down at you.

“You’re so pretty,” You let slip.

The events of the night prior became fresh in your mind. The good ones far outweighed the bad. It was even easier to ignore any and all sour feelings because fucking finally you and Hitoshi were in bed together.

Finally.

“Why, thank you. You’re pretty beautiful yourself, you know.”

You were going to nut.

His. Voice.

It was always deep, a rolling bass, but addled with sleep? It was graveled and coarse and it made you literally wet.

“Fuck.” Was all you could muster as you slowly sat up.

Hitoshi squeezed you around your ribs, a knowing look and smile stretched across his face.

The hold on your waist reminded you that Hitoshi was, in fact, holding you. His hands, soft for how large they were, massaged slow, deep circles just above your hips and through your borrowed shirt. You had to have slept tucked up into him like that all night.

You hoped there would be many more like it.

“Did you sleep okay?” You asked, your own voice rough.

Hitoshi grinned drowsily, “I did. It’s a hell of a lot easier next to you.”

You couldn’t suppress the way your lips curled into a smile. Leaning forward, you ran your hands up his chest to brace yourself, leaving a soft kiss on his lips, “I’m glad. Very glad. Wanna do it again sometime?”

“Oh, (Y/N),” Hitoshi rumbled, hands moving up to tickle lightly at your ribs. “Now that I’ve gotten a taste of how lovely it is to sleep next you, I don’t know if I’ll ever let you sleep anywhere else.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Let me? Interesting word choice.”

“Intentional word choice,” Hitoshi’s eyes darkened, tracing your form as he wet his lips, “You like a bit of control exerted on you, don’t you, (Y/N)?”

You shuddered as Hitoshi dragged you closer, up his body so your hips straddled his own.

“I mean, yeah,” you breathed, clothes beginning to feel way too hot atop your skin. “You were there for kink night, weren’t you?”

You tried to joke, but Hitoshi didn’t let you.

“I was there,” One of Hitoshi’s hands tangled into your hair, rubbing affectionately, but your gut told you he had other, more particular, plans. “And, I have a good memory.”

Without missing a beat, Hitoshi flipped the two of you.

Your back hit the mattress and knocked the wind out of you. A breathy gasp fell from your lips, unabashed as Hitoshi was suspended on top of you.

You almost spoke, but then you noticed the way Hitoshi was looking at you, and you couldn’t. Whatever breath that laid in your lungs slowly dripped out.

He was looking at you like a man starved.

His eyes glittered as he traced each curve of your body, pliant and beginning to tremble under his touchless attention.

“Y-you’re bold, you know that?” You managed to stutter out.

Hitoshi chuckled to himself, shaking his head, “Just observant. You always say that I’m a good listener.”

You shuddered as Hitoshi leaned down, nose trailing down your jaw to your pulse point. He paused above the fluttering beat of your heart before licking a strip down your neck with the flat of his tongue.

“Jesus, Hitoshi,” You scraped out, swallowing as heat rushed through your tense body.

He pulled away, only to hover just above your face, staring into your eyes with an intensity that would be stifling from anyone else other than him.

“Do you want me to keep going? We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable,” Holy fuck, did Hitoshi’s voice somehow get lower? Is that what fucking happened when he got horny?

You were going to die.

“No, no, we should keep going, yes,” You really tried not to sound desperate, but it hardly mattered. Hitoshi could more than tell, he knew you so well.

You didn’t give him a chance to tease you, hands clasping behind his head to gently pull him down to your lips.

God, you were positive you wouldn’t ever tire of Hitoshi in any way. Everything about him seemed so right, good and perfect especially near you.

Hitoshi nipped at your bottom lip, one of his hands insistently rubbing at the bones of your hip. You shuddered at the onslaught of sensations, slotting your mouth against his to bring him as close as you could manage.

One of your hands flitted down his frame, tugging at the hem of his sleep shirt. You’d seen Hitoshi shirtless plenty of times, eyed him as much as was acceptable for ‘bros’, and then moved on with a reddened face, but you would be damned if you weren’t going to ogle him a bit, now that you had the open opportunity to.

Hitoshi sat back on your hips, pulling his shirt over his head with ease and became what you could only be certain was a manifestation of your dreams.

It was clear he indeed had very much been working out, all the muscles of his abs and arms were toned and well-used, even holding a bit of the tan from when he started his training last summer.

You noted, drool puddling in your mouth, that he (and assumedly Denki) did get their nipples pierced for their ten-year friend-iversary last fall. Cute barbels hung from his nipples, surprising, but also very hot. You followed the ‘v’ of his hips to the waistband of the soft grey sweatpants he was wearing, noting with a shocked raise of the eyebrows that Hitoshi was already considerably hard and considerably large.

“You like what you see?” Hitoshi teased, leaning back over you to worry at your neck with a few well-placed licks.

You swallowed, hands pressing to his chest, running up and down the soft skin before going to pinch one of his nipples, “I really do, fuck.”

Hitoshi’s breath stutters against your neck, “Like ‘em?”

“I thought you two were kidding.”

“Oh, never—!”

Hitoshi’s words were yanked from his chest as you pinched and twisted both of his nipples, albeit lightly. You were doing it partially to get a reaction and gauge how sensitive he was. With the way he whined from the back of his throat, you inferred that he was very sensitive.

“Aren’t there more important things you could be doing with your hands?” You chided, though not an edge of malice was in your voice.

Hitoshi just seemed spurred on by this, grunting and swiping your wrists into his grip. Your hands were pressed above your head, pinned to the mattress by his body weight.

A low whine spun from the back of your throat.

“You’re really lucky that I like brats and that I love you—”

Both of you paused.

He...

Did he just—

Did he just drop the L bomb?

He dropped the L BOMB .

You stared up at Hitoshi, frowning at the absolute terror in his eyes.

“I, I mean, I didn’t mean it like that,” Hitoshi sat back up on you, nervousness in every motion of his body. “I just meant—”

“Hey,” You interrupted, sitting up with him. “I love you too, you know. I’m pretty sure I have.”

Hitoshi doesn’t say anything for a minute and neither do you. You’re both in stunned silence. Enraptured by the other, your forms painted with the precious, vibrant gold that streamed in from the curtained window. The other sounds were that of the ambient city awakening and the unsteady breath that was shared between the two of you.

It was oddly perfect, and neither of you complained.

“So,” Hitoshi broke the silence, running his hands up your arms. “I love you.”

Oh, did it feel like a drug to hear his morning voice say the new phrase in such a way.

You nodded, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his navel, “And I love you.”

“Then, it’s settled.”

There was certainly more to discuss involving the nature of your relationship, including the fact that you both had your heads so far up your asses for so long and were definitely in denial for a good portion of time, and that your love was a lot more complicated than either of you were making it out to be.

But, you both certainly shared the history for it.

All of the late nights where you both eyed the other secretly, turning away at the last moment before being noticed.

There were plenty small moments of caring, too.

There was the way how whenever you were over, you made Hitoshi a new pot of coffee, no matter if the old one was out.

There was Hitoshi’s intentional habit and insistence (that had lasted years) that he walked you back from parties, sharing cigarettes or half-carrying you. He never minded.

There was the way you had memorized each other's takeout orders months ago.

There was the small drawer in Hitoshi’s desk that was dedicated to things you left and might need. Several extra pairs of socks, makeup remover, a spare notebook, an extra laptop charger for when you inevitably forgot your own.

There was, of course, the way that you and Hitoshi were currently looking at each other. Fuck whatever fragile, easy-to-tear-away eye contact that had been occurring between the two of you for years, all that there was now between was the collection of lost time.

“Please kiss me.”

The request was obliged.

Hitoshi was quick to pin you back to the mattress, bratty behavior forgotten and stored away. There would be plenty of time to explore that mutual side of your relationship, but now only desire was Hitoshi and your shared pleasure.

Your lips slotted together, pulling a moan from your chest as Hitoshi immediately licked his into your mouth. It was a bit sloppy, rushed in the heat of the moment, but he quickly slowed down. Cupping your jaw, he deepened the kiss as you moved against him, lightly rolling your hips for any sort of friction.

You were the first to pull away, nosing to his jaw and lavishing it with bites and kisses. The rough groans and grunts that Hitoshi spilled were all the motivation you needed to go lower and lower on his neck.

Marking him as you pleased, you sucked at the skin of his neck, leaving bruises and spittle in your wake. You teasingly blew at the wet spots a few times, loving the way he shivered against you.

Hitoshi wasn’t to be outplayed, hands roving over your body. He left quick squeezes and rolled his thumbs anywhere he could reach. It was like he had to touch everything.

Your back arched and you cried into his neck as Hitoshi’s hands squeezed your breasts over your shirt, worrying a nipple with the pads of his fingers in the same way that you did to him earlier.

“Can’t take what you dish out?” Hitoshi chuckled in your ear as you squirmed underneath him.

You shook your head, biting on one of his collar bones, “I want more.”

His lips were back on your own before you could think.

You could feel how wet you were getting, unattended heat that desperately needed contact of any kind. As Hitoshi’s teeth nipped your neck, trailing lower to the wide collar of your shirt, it only got worse.

“Can I take this off?” Hitoshi asked, ever the gentleman.

You didn’t answer, but rather whipped your shirt off as quickly as possible.

And then your upper half was bared to him.

Your breasts spilled with gravity and rose and fell with your own light panting, glistening with sweaty dew.

You swallowed as Hitoshi’s hand went to your navel, flat-palmed. Slowly, he dragged it upwards, stopped to palm your tits only for a moment. You took note of how thick his fingers were and how you wanted nothing more than for them to fuck you into oblivion.

His fingers trailed to your sternum, then to your throat, tracing up the column before roughly grabbing your jaw.

“You,” Hitoshi voice sounded thick as he pressed his knee into your sex. “Have no idea what you to do me.”

“Then fucking show me.” You spit back out at him, one of your hands teasing at the top of his waistband,

Fuck Hitoshi’s knee, apparently, because he immediately slid down the bed to hover in between your legs.

You snapped your knees closed out of surprise, all the same dripping against your panties

“You want me to show you?” Hitoshi seemed to be speaking more to himself than you. “Then I will.”

Hitoshi slipped his thumbs under the waistband of the borrowed sweats, pulling them down and off of you with ease. He situated himself back between your legs, parting you by your inner thighs with a bruising grip.

You heard his sharp intake of breath as he hovered so close to your sex.

“Already so wet for me? I’m flattered.” Hitoshi didn’t give you any chance to quip back as he licked your slit through your thin panties.

You squirmed for him, all for him.

“Please, more, ‘Toshi,” Your voice was warped with pleading, but you could hardly care. The burning look that Hitoshi flashed you was more than enough to nonverbally explain his intentions.

He set to marking up your thighs, murmuring sweet nothings to and about the flesh and how you cried out for him so well. He dotted you with lovely bruises, kissing closer and closer to your dripping cunt.

With one final, pleading look, Hitoshi all but tore off the thin panties you wore and ravished you.

He licked from your opening to your clit with a flat tongue, making your thighs stiffen and toes curl. You felt him hum against you as he shifted your legs over his shoulder. One of his arms wrapped under your thigh, pressing at the bottom of your tummy and locking you in place.

He sucked hard on your clit, just once, almost as some sexual litmus test to assess your ability to move freely.

It was very low as all you could do was arch for him, whines filling the air.

It seemed like it was more than enough for him.

Hitoshi tongue fucked you sloppy, refusing to give you any more stimulation on your clit, no matter how you tried to buck at his face. All Hitoshi’s hold would allow you to do was gently grind against his face as slick and spit soaked the bed below. It was more than enough to make your brain gummy, craving nothing more and more of his touch.

You squeezed your thighs around Hitoshi’s cheeks as he carefully pressed one of his aforementioned thick fingers into your cunt. Hot pleasure permeated every corner of you as you panted for Hitoshi, all for him.

He curled his finger just right and you screamed.

Hitoshi was quick to take the hint, pushing around another inside to repeat the motion, lips, and tongue working your clit as the pressure built beautifully.

“You close, kitten?” Hitoshi’s words were muffled by your cunt, but holy fuck, you knew exactly what he said.

You whined at the use of the word, nodding and panting out a muddled affirmative.

Hitoshi sucked lewdly at the mess between your legs, pulling your body to the apex of its hot pressure, before breaking.

Your back curled off the bed, Hitoshi’s hold released to all you to fully fuck his face as he slurped at the juices between your thighs. Your mind went fuzzy as pleasure crackled through your frame, fingers curling into the rumpled fabric below and your head bowing back into the pillows.

You slowly came down, twitching as Hitoshi continued to kiss around your sex. You could half-tell he was grinding against the bed; he was that turned on.

You sat up, swaying a bit, drunk on bliss, and already semi-fucked out.

Yet, you still wanted more.

“‘Toshi, please,” You looked at him helplessly.

He sat up on his knees, hands going to play with your tits as he raised a smug eyebrow, face wet with you, “Want my cock, kitten? Is that it?”

“Holy fuck, ‘Toshi, please,” Your voice came out as mixture between a whine and growl as Hitoshi chuckled, reaching to the side for the nightstand and condoms, you assumed.

“I thought I’d have to do more to get you begging, with that little bratty shit you pulled earlier,” He mused, stepping off the bed for only a moment to finally pull off his sweats.

If your mouth had been any more open, drool would have fallen into your lap.

Hitoshi was, once again, sculpted. The guy put in work and it showed. That was less important and less relevant as you were currently lewdly, literally, drooling over his cock. It wasn’t only cervix-shatteringly long, but it was thick and curved just right. It was flushed, fully hard against his abs and leaking beads of preek, all from the friction of the bed and giving you head.

“Can I do it?” You asked as Hitoshi unwrapped the condom.

He nodded, cheekily, handing you the package.

You crawled to the edge of the bed, stopping to sit on your knees as he stood above you. Carefully, you rolled the rubber on, clenching your thighs together as your oversensitive cunt throbbed.

You stared at its girth, biting your lip nervously and looked up at Hitoshi.

Immediately, his gaze softened and he caught your face in his hand, thumbing over your cheek, “Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah, just, uh,” You stumbled over your words, gaze flipping from his very pretty cock and his very pretty face. “Do you have lube? It’s been a while and I don’t want to tear.”

“I do,” Hitoshi’s worry dissolved, pulling a bottle from the same drawer and tossing it on to the bed. “And, I will try my best not to tear you. We can go as slow or as fast as you like, hm?”

You nodded, biting your lip and crawling back onto the bed.

Hitoshi cooed sweet words to you as the two of you adjusted. Perhaps it was to his own natural nervousness, or maybe yours. All the same, the loving comments about your body and how good you were for him turned you to putty underneath him.

Your legs were thrown up over his shoulders, feet prepared to lock behind his head. Hitoshi knelt between your legs, holding your thighs spread as his lubed cock ran over your folds.

“Tell me if you need me to go slower, okay?” Hitoshi reminded you, ever attentive.

You gulped as Hitoshi breached your cunt with the head of his cock and holy fuck. You stretched, and it burned, but it was nothing that you couldn’t handle. Hitoshi kept praising you, running his lips wherever they could reach as he leaned over your pillow-propped form. Inch by inch, he pushed into you, stopping when your breathing got too harsh.

And then, Hitoshi’s cock was fully sheathed into you and you felt so fucking full, you could die.

“Hey, ‘Toshi?” You spoke breathlessly, wiping sweaty strands of violet hair from his cheeks. “I love you, okay? For a lot more than your dick, but this is a huge perk and I’d feel bad not saying so.”

He was still and silent for a moment, head bent out of your view.

“You’re gonna tell me, while I’m buried this deep in this cute, little cunt of yours, such sweet shit? That you love me?” Hitoshi growled, darkened eyes lust-hazed.

You nodded.

Hitoshi swiftly pulled almost entirely out of cunt, only to slam back into you, angling your hips perfectly to hit your g-spot.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, head thrown back and you gave a breaking wail, body shaking with the sudden cracking of pleasure.

And, Hitoshi didn’t relent.

He continued his hard, deep, and long thrusts, increasing his speed as he felt you loosen for him. With each thrust, wet squelching sounds spurred the two of you on.

Hitoshi’s face buried itself in your neck, sucking harsh marks that sparked pain across your heated skin. You couldn’t get enough of it. You couldn’t get enough of him.

Hitoshi accented each thrust with a more desperate, broken sounding ‘I love you,’ quickly unraveling at the seams as his thrusts and kisses became more erratic.

He reached between the two of you, blessedly circling your clit as your own orgasm was close to cresting.

You came before Hitoshi, just by a second, the clenching of your cunt and the way you moaned his name being more than enough for him to blow his load, fucking you through both of your orgasms.

You both stilled, panting.

Hitoshi fell next to you on the bed, instantly pulling you to his chest and smothering you with kisses. You returned them, shuddering and coming down from the earth-shattering peak you had just been at.

“Fuck, Hitoshi,” You squeezed around your arms around his waist. “You fuck like a god.”

He shook his head, pressing a kiss to your sweaty temple, “You say shit like that and it’s gonna inflate my ego.”

“Guess I gotta keep saying it, then.”

You smiled up at him, moving to straddle his waist, ignoring your bodily complaints.

“I love you, you know,” Hitoshi beams from below you, looking at you with a reverence that you craved for so long, but were too afraid to voice.

You let out a shaking breath, smiling right back, “I love you, too.”

Hitoshi pulled you in for a sweet kiss you returned easily, smiling against his lips, melting into him—

His cock hardened against your thigh.

“Round two?” Considering the smiles you beamed each other, that was a definite ‘yes, please’.

But, you were rudely interrupted by the slammed of the front door. You both stiffened, Hitoshi immediately going to grab your waist and drag you onto the bed. He threw a blanket over you, but it was hardly necessary.

Denki’s voice rang over the house, “HEY! Did y’all fuck yet? If you did, please tell me. I’m against Mina in the betting pool and I’m in deep.”

All you and Hitoshi could spare was a laugh and a sweet kiss, before you shouted back, “What do you think?!”

#salem writes #shinso hitoshi x reader #hitoshi shinso x reader #mha smut #mha x reader #mha reader insert #shinso x reader #shinso hitoshi x y/n #hitoshi shinso x y/n #bnha x reader #shinso hitoshi #shinsou x you #my hero academia shinsou

707 notes · View notes

thepancakeboi · 4 years

Text

96. “I saw that. You just checked me out.”

“That takes care of that,” I remark as the leopard-like Shadow crumbles. It explodes into black wisps from Robin Hood’s power piercing its chest. If this is the strongest that Sae’s Palace has, then this will be easier than I thought.

Mona looks up at me. “You’re not so bad,” he remarks.

“And I am capable of much more,” I reply, letting a little bit of my cockiness show. Much more than they can possibly imagine, more than the Phantom Thieves will ever see. “Now then, let us deal with the Shadows quickly.”

“Wait,” Panther interrupts. “Doesn’t it sound like we’re gonna get ambushed based on what we heard earlier?”

“I agree,” Queen adds. “I’d like to deal with them as quick as we can... But now that we have an infiltration route, I’d suggest we return for now and prepare.”

Her suggestion makes sense, even if I know I could tear my way through this Palace on my own power. “Very well, I trust your experience and judgment. Let us do that.”

With a nod, Joker says, “Let’s go.” Everyone begins to depart, but I continue to stand by the elevator. Something has been on my mind, and it has been bothering me since our outfits first changed. Joker is the first to notice my absence. He stops. A worried look appears on his face. “Crow?”

“Yo! You comin’, Joker?” Skull calls out. He is waiting by the stairs heading up alongside the rest of the thieves.

“Go on ahead. We’ll meet you at the entrance,” he replies with a wave of his hand. They obey without another word, although Mona gives a somewhat concerned look at us before leaving. Joker waits until they’ve left before asking, “What’s wrong?”

Now that it’s just us, I walk right up to Joker, getting almost in his face. I’m finally able to confirm my suspicions. “You’re taller than me.”

“Hmm? I’ve always been taller.”

“No, I distinctly remember you being slightly shorter than me by about an inch.”

“I grew.”

“In the last two minutes?”

“Yes?”

“I highly doubt that.” I take a step back and look down at his boots. As I suspected, they have a rather noticeable heel on them. “Really, Joker? Really?”

“What?”

“Are the heels truly necessary?”

“Maybe. Why?” he asks and, with a smirk that only Joker can pull off, rests his arms on my shoulders as he whispers the next question in my ear. “Does it bother you that I’m taller?”

“We should probably leave now,” I blurt while pulling away from him. This close proximity is sending shivers down my spine, and I don’t have the time to investigate why that is. Besides, there’s no way I’m giving him the satisfaction of knowing that, yes, it does. It irritates me immensely. It already bothers me that Fox is taller, although at least he never mentions it. He doesn’t care. Joker, meanwhile, is the type of person who would probably wear heels in the real world just to mess with me. I’m not letting that become a possibility.

“Okay.” I’m surprised that he leaves it at that. He turns and walks over to the stairs. I don’t initially follow after him. Something about the Phantom Thief leader is grabbing my attention, though what is it? Is it the way he exudes confidence that Ren normally represses? Perhaps it’s the way he holds himself like he’s about to take on the entire world and win in style just because he can. Or maybe it’s his outfit that I’m now taking notice of. One of these days those flaps on his coat are going to get stuck in a door. Oh wait, is it-

“I saw that. You just checked me out.”

I blink, startled. I hadn’t even realized that Joker’s now leaning on the stair railing, looking back at me with mild amusement. “I did not,” I say, barely refraining from snapping the response.

“Yeah, you did.”

“I was not checking you out.”

“Then what were you doing besides staring at my ass?”

“I was not staring.”

“Were too.”

“No. I simply noticed you walk like a girl.” At the confused tilt of his head, I elaborate. “The coat mostly obscures it, but you definitely sway your hips while walking.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Excuse me, but I don’t have a feminine walk nor heeled boots like you do.”

“Maybe not,” he acquiesces, but he doesn’t seem bothered by his admission. He strides over to me, placing his hands on my hips. What is he scheming? The cheeky smirk that creeps onto his face concerns me. “But you do have feminine hips.”

I stare at him, flabbergasted. “W-What?”

“You heard me.”

His hands shift ever so slightly. The movement draws my attention back to the sensation. I can hear him chuckle as I tilt my head down in an attempt to hide the blush dusting my cheeks. “How would you even know something like that?”

“I see things, and you didn’t deny it.”

“It should be obvious that your statement is false.”

“You also have feminine hands,” he adds, taking my left hand in his right. His other hand is still on my hips. His fingers tap idly against my side as he looks deep in thought. “Is that why you wear those gloves all the time?”

“That is not the reason. Besides, my hands are completely normal.”

“Then why do you?”

“Am I not allowed to wear them just because I like them?” I yank my hand away and push Joker’s hand off my hips before he gets any ideas. His lower lip twitches a little as if he’s bothered by this. I pretend I don’t notice this trivial change. Why does it matter anyway? It’s not like I care or anything. “It’s definitely not because of something like having slender hands. Your assumption is wrong.”

Something about this seems to snap Joker out of whatever sour mood he was just in. “But you do, and it’s perfect.”

I’m foolish enough to take the bait he’s laid for me. “How would such a thing be perfect?”

“Because,” he says while grabbing ahold of both my hands this time, “they fit so well in mine!”

My face flushes red at his response. It’s even worse because he is correct. Something about this gesture seems right...like it’s meant to be this way. I want nothing more than to agree, but this isn’t going to end in a way he desires. Instead, I respond, “You’re delusional.”

“No, I’m not. Weren’t you the one who said ‘we seem to share some kind of bond’?” Those were my exact words a couple of months ago. How he remembers I have no idea. He brushes a hand along my cheek, his smile turning into a smirk as my face heats up even more. “And I didn’t imagine that. You’re blushing, aren’t you?”

“I’m not.”

He beams, seeing right through my lie. “You are! And quite adorably too! You’re so cute!”

“I’m not-” I repeat, scowling. Does he really think that? I hate that I love the possibility. He chuckles in response. “What is it, Joker?”

“You’re cute when you’re angry.”

“Stop calling me cute.”

“Okay...cutie,” he says while tousling my hair with his free hand.

“Joker-” I try to smooth it down, but he grabs my hand in his own. It’s all too tempting to take my mask and jab him in the eye for this. That wouldn’t be very becoming of an ace detective, though. “I’m not cute.”

“You are too. Did you not see your reaction to finding out the calling card is for more than show?”

“That doesn’t mean I’m cute,” I mutter. Perhaps I went a little overboard on my ‘reaction’. “I told you to stop calling me cute.”

“But I didn’t call you cute earlier.”

“Cute and cutie are practically the same thing.”

“You didn’t say I couldn’t call you a cutie.”

I hate that he has a valid point. “Stop calling me cutie then.”

“Adorable?”

“No.”

“Beautiful?”

“Also no.”

“Precious?”

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Love of my life?”

“Stop joking around, you menace.” If he’s trying to get to me, it’s working. I need to end this conversation now. “The others are probably wondering where we are. Let’s go.”

“Yeah.” He lets go of my hands now. I don’t miss the warmth of his hands holding mine. I don’t. He snickers as he proceeds to walk away. I’m confused as to why at first. It’s then I notice his gait. Is the hip-swaying from earlier more...exaggerated this time? When he turns his head and gives me a flirtatious wink, I know that he did it entirely on purpose. I shake my head as I follow after him, knowing I’ll only have to suffer through this for just another month. One more month, though maybe...no. I can’t stop now. Even if this feels so...perfect.

Prompt list

#akeppi writes #p5 #persona 5 #p5r #persona 5 royal #goro akechi #akechi #ren amamiya #akira kurusu #p5 crow #p5 joker #akeshu #shuake #writing prompt #ren is a menace #but joker is even worse #he has nothing to restrain his menace tendencies #he can and will be a menace to society and goro

88 notes · View notes

vasoula · 4 years

Text

The Peepshow (chapter three)

Summary: Two months after his redemption journey, Sasuke is back to Konoha and Sakura couldn’t be more happy about them spending a lot of time together. However, things take a hard turn when Sakura is assigned a special mission and she has to hide it from the rest of Team 7. Everything comes spiraling down when Sasuke finds out exactly what she has to do.

Tags: hard rated m, blank period, kinda AU-ish

You can also read it on ffnet and Ao3.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Author's notes: The grand finale of my three way saga ends here with a bang! Beware this chapter is hard M, lots of naughty things happening here ;) This monster is almost 10k on its own XD BTW this is the only chapter my friend strawberrycreampiefluff has not read, even though this is a collab between us and the story was her inspo, so this is a surprise for her also. I hope everybody enjoys this fic, comment your thoughts. Ah, I didn't know which way to end it because this is quite self indulgent and the main theme of the fic was teasing so the ending is similar. One day, maybe, I will write a continuation. Thank you everyone for your love and support!

“Act three: Jealousy will drive you mad”

With two powerful stomps and a determined expression on her face, Sakura reaches for the doorknob and pulls.

Sasuke does indeed greet her in the doorway. It is obvious from the casual attire he has put on that he was also about to go to bed; his toned physique is adorned with gray sweatpants and a light blue shirt.

The pink haired woman has no clue what riles her up the most. Is the way those simple clothes cling onto him like second skin emphasizing his fit body or is it the way he is staring her with those bewitching mismatched eyes of his? She cannot wait to find out.

"Sakura," he says in the usual lethargic timbre he uses to pronounce her name.

She blinks her eyes at him fast in response to make sure she is seeing right.

"What are you doing here, Sasuke-kun?", Sakura asks, "It's late."

She casually points out it is time for sleep and not time for late night conversations in her room the two of them alone, together. It does the trick because Sasuke seems to realize a few things about their current situation. His eyes lose focus and start their slow descend, carefully scrutinizing what she is wearing.

His gaze stops his inspection the moment it reaches her chest, zeroing on her breathing pattern and the way some parts of her body stand out thanks to the chilly weather. Sasuke's impassive face instantly changes, his cheeks and ears coloring in a nice red hue.

Then, without much thought, his observation continues and he bites his lip at the display of her bare legs so up close.

For the life of her, Sakura cannot fathom that Sasuke Uchiha is blatantly checking her out.

Feeling self conscious, she hugs herself and steps sideways to allow the man to come into the room. Her blush matches his in response.

Sasuke finally – finally moves from his position and steps into her territory.

Putting a few loose pink strands behind her ear, Sakura closes the door quietly and props her body on it, hands coming to rest between her backside and the wood.

She lets the silence hang on for a few minutes allowing Sasuke to take his time to make up his mind.

"I came here to apologize," he speaks after a while, "I am sorry."

Sasuke peers at her from his spot in the middle of room, shuffling his feet unconsciously.

He looks down, "I shouldn't have interfered with your mission," and spins around to face her bed instead. "It was brash and uncharacteristic of me."

His apology sounds genuine enough, but that still does not excuse the fact he acted out of the ordinary for no reason.

Sakura has had it with this man. Even though she feels beyond furious with him, the girl prefers not to argue with him.

"Apology accepted." She announces curtly. "Still doesn't explain the reason you decided to interfere, Sasuke."

The lack of honorific translates to failure in Sasuke's book of apologies. He tries to take another route. Although he came inside her room prepared and resolute to be honest with her, it seems his pride and ego are still in the way.

"Sakura, you know I am not good at this," He deflates in frustration, "I am not good -"

Sasuke pauses abruptly, not capable of continuing his next sentence. Why is it so hard for him to confess his feelings? How does Sakura do it? Why can he not be more like her when it comes to matters like these?

The lone Uchiha knows how he feels about her, his heart hammering in his chest is that much of a clue. Since he was a young boy- he has always known -what he felt towards her. There is a special connection, even the most logical part of his brain cannot grasp it enough to explain it. It should not make sense how strongly he feels about her without him even comprehending it when growing up.

It has been building up since the start, those emotions have been lying dormant for years, slowly but surely pestering inside his heart. His mind always conjuring up images of her lovely smiles and her healing words. Her confessions and trials towards him whispering hotly in his ears and driveling his mind mad into oblivion.

For such a foolish little game she was playing, her opinion is sure important and sufficient to have him questioning his moralities; her words festering inside his heart and poisoning his mind with good prospects in life like love and family. Who is he to deny her anything when at times he was ready to sacrifice everything he thrived for just to keep her safe? He can try but ignoring his feelings like he used to do in the past is no solution anymore.

Sasuke recalls everything about her until now and comes to one realization.

Sakura was, is and will always be precious to him.

"What?" The woman, plaguing his thoughts, asks defeated. She pushes herself off the wooden door and takes a big step forward.

Thinking what he can possibly do to make things better, he comes up with an idea.

Following along, Sasuke moves closer to her, leaning the right side of his body to a pillar next to him. He is right across her now.

"I am more of a man of action-", he starts trying to redeem himself with his compensatory qualities.

"Then do something -", she explodes, interrupting him mid sentence.

Sakura puts her foot down hard, literally stumping it to the ground. With her fists balled to her sides and a snarl on her face, she feels her patience running out.

The woman looks at him expectantly, waiting for him to do something – anything.

Sasuke's ears are roaring, his pulse skyrocketing. He is breathing hard now, his gaze penetrating as he surveys every aspect of Sakura's face. From her rosy cheeks, to her heated eyes and at last to her luscious, red lips.

She hears him before she sees him react. A hard punch to the pillar he has been leaning on signals he too has reached his limit.

With two fast strides, in speed only Sasuke is capable of, he pushes her against the door with his body. His right hand comes up and he tangles his fingers in her hair, cradling her upper half in urgency.

His stump meets her waist halfway in an attempt to hold her.

"I am losing my mind here, Sakura," He confesses unabashedly, looking at her straight in the eye.

The girl in question glances up at him, his sudden embrace unexpected, but welcome nevertheless. Both of her hands are at his torso, her clenched fists clasping his shirt tightly and crumpling it in the process. Thanks to the position of her grip, she feels his heart beating fast inside his chest – a sign that rings true to his earlier statement.

Searching his eyes for any sign of discomfort and finding none, she makes it easier for both of them and inches closer; her mouth a breath away from his lips.

Sasuke's eyes open and close languidly in response, her glittering irises and pampered freckles on her nose the last thing he sees before he leans in to kiss her.

Sakura spots stars behind her closed eyelids the moment their lips finally touch. It is nothing more than their mouths caressing each other in slow strokes, but the implications of that innocent kiss are more than enough for the two of them.

Feeling brave, the pink haired woman wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him closer to her. Her heart is about to jump off her chest, aware of his hard yet lean body flash against her. They do not have any prior experience to this, but with their instincts leading them on, they are matching each other just right.

Sasuke feels something inside his head clicking into place, like a puzzle being completed; the repressed emotions inside of him exploding into a thousand pieces. The way he loves and displays it might be crooked, but when he has the woman he adores in his arms, he knows, he can conquer any emotional disadvantage he may encounter.

It seems everything that happens next plays out like it is in slow motion.

Grabbing her by the hip, Sasuke begins to move. Sakura arches into him, their kiss turning deeper. With the tall man leading them on, the couple turns around, mirroring their previous position, but with Sakura on top this time.

"Lift your legs," Sasuke quietly orders with his back against the door. Sakura obliges wordlessly and jumps slightly. Putting pressure on his shoulders, Sakura breaks their kiss for a split second and wraps her thighs around his waist, locking them tightly.

Sasuke's lone arm comes and finds its position snugly under her backside, palm open on her butt cheeks. Without so much a strain, years of physical exertion being put into work, Sasuke lifts her off the ground easily.

Sakura, still preoccupied with Sasuke's soft lips, does not realize their compromising position. Gently coursing her hands through his hair, she caresses his scalp while kissing him tenderly.

With his limbs busy and his vision limited, Sasuke takes a few cautious steps forward. With the bed as final destination, he carefully maneuvers them through the room. A few centimeters away, the mattress lies warm and inviting.

Their kiss stops abruptly when Sasuke's foot comes in contact with outpost of the bed. Lips breaking apart and breaths mingling, they stare silently into one another.

Realizing where the course of their situation is taking them, both of them pause.

Sakura searches his eyes and sees the lust mirrored in them similar to her own. With a determined expression, she grabs the collar of his shirt and drags him down with her the moment she lets herself fall back into the mattress.

Trying to stop his body from crushing her, Sasuke's arm goes forward and he places his hand next to her head. He lets out a disgruntled sound and lets his face fall into the soft cushions of her breasts.

"Sakura," he mumbles incoherently. In response, the girl in question lets out a sigh of pleasure and relief.

She knows the implications and relishes in them. No dream or fantasy could counter that moment in her mind.

Sasuke hesitantly looks up, face heating up slowly. Then, feeling suddenly nervous, he glances sideways, a scowl forming.

Being on top of Sakura, her body body pliant underneath him and her lips bruised from their intense kissing had him feeling some type of way. But, god, her face is what made him look away. Nothing prepared him for this.

Sakura makes a sound in the back of her throat, her teeth biting hard her plump bottom lip. She bats her eyes at him, light pink eyelashes fanning against her rosy cheeks prettily. Sasuke pretends to ignore her, even though he keeps stealing glances at her.

Sakura cannot believe there would come a day where the great Sasuke Uchiha, the infamous avenger, would be shy with her.

Hot stares and naughty smirks are more his thing than awkward and fleeting looks.

Sasuke is nervous, no one taught him how to handle situations like these.

Love is a new, unknown part in his life, and he is quite unprepared.

Wordlessly, she lifts her hand and touches the right side of his face.

He looks gorgeous like this, all strong bone structure and pale white skin. His aristocratic nose scrunching up in distaste, because he dislikes the fact he has no control.

"What?" The Uchiha finally looks at her and asks. He purses his lips and drags his body forward a little bit.

Sasuke is snugly on top of her now, their chests pressed together closely.

Sakura starts caressing his cheek, staring lovingly into his eyes.

"I thought I couldn't love you more than I do," she takes a shuddering breath, her eyes watering slightly. "But, I do."

Sasuke takes the whispered confession in, his throat bobbing. He feels so emotional right now, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. He clutches at her words, her proclamation consuming him like it did in the past.

The inner turmoil inside him makes his eyes burn. He struggles to find the words to express what he feels for her. The capacity to love and care endless, unlimited for her. A never ending waterfall of emotions washing his wrongdoings away.

The power coursing through his veins is nothing in comparison to the power she has over him. She could bend him all she wants, mold his being all the way to nothingness and put his pieces right back to their rightful place. No darkness inside of him is strong enough to overcome him as long as she loves him. Her light nourishing him and making him feel alive again.

So many thoughts plaguing his mind, but no words are enough to describe his admiration for her. He wants to convey though, he has to try. For her, going forward in life, he has to try.

"You make me feel alive," he shares with her, "I need you close to me,"

Sasuke utters in a mere whisper, but with each syllable his drive to confess grows tenfold. "I love you," he breaks, voice cracking in the end.

He closes his eyes to get his bearings for a second and hears Sakura's breath hitch.

Sakura feels her soul quivering in her chest; she went to heaven and back.

Before anymore tears could escape her eyes however, she quickly shuts them close. This is no reason for her to cry, for this is a happy moment. She sniffles and opens her jade orbs again. The sight that greets her makes her feel like her entire being is being consumed by hot molten lava. The man of her dreams is staring at her, his eyes intense – an endless inferno of feelings exposed for her to cherish.

Her throat bobs in anticipation at the prospect of him acting out what his eyes are conveying.

"Sakura," he says and nudges her chin with his nose.

Sasuke senses her shiver underneath him even though the temperature of the room is far from low. No matter, he is starting to sweat so he decides to undress. Knowing where this is leading them, he pushes himself up and straddles her, knees on either side of her body. Using his lone hand he grabs the outer part of his cotton shirt from behind and lifts it forward over his head.

Sakura gasps beneath him, eyeing him up and down in appreciation. That escalated way better than what she had in mind. Years of need, aching deep within her.

Her hands twitch and she tries to think clearly despite the situation.

"W-what are you doing Sasuke-kun?", she mumbles worriedly.

After finishing his task, the man in question looks down at her. The left side of mouth lifts in haughty grin before he can stop himself. Now, now what a nice view, he thinks.

Sakura's hair has created a beautiful pink halo around her head, matching her flaming, flushed cheeks. Those unique eyes of her sparkle in the dark, passion shining through clearly in them. Her lips part sensually in silent plea for him to claim her.

She wants this as much he does.

"Hot," he answers. The sensation of her, needy, under him or the room temperature are either correct interpretations.

He knows she likes what she sees. His athletic, lean body is no secret, but for him to display it so proudly to her strokes his ego in all the right places. No woman can appreciate him the way she does. Her pure devotion fascinates him, her hungry stares excite him. Only she has that effect on him. She may be the one to yearn for him since the beginning, but he is the one that has been suffering in silence for so long.

She has been loud, clear, but he has been repressed and tortured with his own fondness right along with her. He wants to toy with her a little more, tease her with some scalding remarks until she is dripping wet with fervor, but alas his patience is running out.

His arm stretches out and his hand reaches her throat, her eyes following along his every movement. His fingertips tenderly graze her pulse point, her skin alight with heat.

Goosebumps rise on her skin, his touch creating thousand fires along her neck. He is stalling, they both know it. But, she continues to stay pliant under him allowing him to continue his ministrations.

His eyes burn in a hankering frenzy, analyzing every little reaction he can get out of her before she turns the tables on him.

She closes her eyes in pleasure, throat stretching out and torso lifting, baring more surface for him to please.

Sakura breaths heavily, legs squeezing shut. She cannot believe this kind of simple form of touch brings forth this much twisted pleasure out of her. This is too light for it to be even considered foreplay, yet...she can get off just to the thought of him even touching her.

"N-no…" she tries to halt the upcoming teasing.

She is weak and needy and she knows he will abuse this knowledge to the fullest. He has always been a person to test her limits. Sasuke loves having the upper hand.

His hand slowly goes down and it reaches her ribcage, right at the center. Her nipples harden in response and she feels Sasuke shift above her.

When something hard grazes her stomach, her insides quiver. She is affecting him even though she is doing nothing to him in return.

Sasuke's movements stop abruptly when he realizes his body has been reacting quite positively to the display. He feels himself confined in his loose pants, the underwear straining against his hard length. Apparently, the object of his desires noticed it too.

This is where he loses the battle it seems.

Sakura opens her eyes slowly, her hands reaching her torso. Both of her palms lay flat on top of his hand – trapping him there. She takes it and starts to move it around her body, showing him just where she would enjoy for him to touch her.

When it reaches her right breast, she lets it loose. Sasuke keeping eye contact with her starts to massage her mound; first tenderly and then more roughly.

Depending on the reactions he gets out of her, his fingers play with her hardened nub, her thin t-shit an extra layer of teasing against her sensitive skin there.

Not knowing what to do with her free arms, she decides to test her power. She splays them flat on top of her lover's chest without so much a thought. His skin is a little cold and damp from sweat, his nervousness slipping through bodily fluids rather than expressions. Going up and down with each hand, she caresses his taught stomach, abs prominent against his skin.

Sasuke hums in response, an appreciative tone somewhere hidden in there.

Sakura makes it her mission to get more reactions out him before he finds out just how wet he has made her down there. His chest is there, pecs hard and her fingers skim over his nipples with a feather like touch.

His eyes clump shut and his body leans forward a little bit. He bites his lip and lets out a small sigh. Sakura smiles triumphantly knowing she is staring to push his buttons. Her hands descend lower, fingers toying with the waistband of his trousers.

Sakura looks from where her hands are, the bulge obvious and near to collision with the inside of her left wrist. She purses her lips and risks glancing up at him. He is breathing harder now, his hair falling like a curtain, his side bang hiding half of his face.

"Don't," comes out the strained response.

His jaw is taught, the angles of it sharp, someone would think he is mad.

He is mad alright, mad with desire.

Sasuke has been thinking a lot about these kind of moments the last few months, his mind conjuring up scenarios and positions – dirty, dirty little longing.

Nothing has prepared him for this sensation. He is powerless against her, needing her to feed his solicitude with ardor. Still though, greedy for her as he is, he struggles to shred his shyness away.

She sees right through him and pauses. "Are you sure?" she asks tentatively.

In an abrupt movement, he grabs her hand, grip strong on her wrist and slams it right back at the bed, near her head. An act of dominance will not hinder Sakura obedient so soon. She fights right back, seeing Sasuke struggle to keep her hand in place.

Sakura huffs and smiles smugly up at him. His face stays impassive, but his eyes glint dangerously.

Thinking she has won this round, the woman prepares a trotting remark. However, Sasuke renders her speechless with his next move. Abandoning his place above her, he straightens up and pushes his knee right between her legs, just below her searing heat. His lone arm reaches out and grips her left thigh roughly, pinning it backwards and spreading her legs apart in an instant.

Sasuke smirks devilishly at her.

The new position and attitude leaves her all hot and bothered.

Then, his hand finds its place just below her belly button. Leaning forward, he grabs one side of her shorts and starts pulling it towards him. Stunned, she allows him to take them off her.

Sakura wants, needs...she craves to see just how much further he can take it.

But despite all the excitement to see Sasuke's walls fall apart in front of her, she cannot help it when she tries to hide her half naked body from him. Only a thin layer of underwear is keep them apart. Feeling shy now is useless, but god these feelings in her heart are so intense and Sasuke acting out all her desires does not help her at all.

Sakura squeezes her legs shut, thighs pressed deliciously together and stomach taught - straining to keep her lower body hidden from his hungry eyes as much as she can.

In a way, Sakura muses, she is teasing him further by denying him access. Sasuke hates disobedience as much as he hates not getting what he wants.

As always impressed by her strength – even in bed – he clasps her knee and tries pushing it apart. "You don't have to ever hide from me." Sasuke says heatedly.

"I-I," Sakura struggles to find the right words, her blushing cheeks a hot flame on her face. "Sasuke-kun, please," she tries to prolong the inevitable.

How can he be so cool about this when they both know how reserved they are? Be that as it may, they both covet each others' touch and they have been doing so since their younger years.

Knowing she can hide herself no more and she is willing to give all of herself to him, all her scars and her invisible wounds, the pink haired beauty spreads her legs apart, baring her womanly figure to him.

It occurs to her that Sasuke is about to say something to her, but decides against it and prefers to speak with his body instead. With more space now free, the man finds himself snugly between her legs.

Before Sakura could realize what is exactly happening and what his next move is going to be, Sasuke surprises her yet again. Rather than mirroring his previous position on top of her, he chooses to cascade down gently with an objective in mind.

Continuing his ministrations, he smoothly lifts her shirt and scrunches it up towards her chest. With that out of the way, Sasuke starts peppering her belly with soft, open-mouthed kisses. It tickles a tiny bit, but the heat pooling between her legs is a tell-tale sign just how much this is affecting her.

When his hot breath fans above her damp underwear, she knows exactly what he is planning on doing to her. Then, Sasuke pauses and looks up at her questioningly as if to confirm if this okay with her.

To answer his unspoken query, Sakura sits up slightly and crosses her arms grabbing her white blouse by each side. She takes it off in one swift movement and quickly lies down, her eyes focused on the ceiling.

Sakura bites her lip, her hands finding themselves near his nape and fondling his shoulders in an attempt to clear any doubts in Sasuke's head that she may not be ready for this. No words need to be exchanged between them, Sasuke could tell even from the way she breathed if this kind of loving was unwanted from her.

She still feels coy, but, Sasuke knows how to handle her. His hand grips one thigh gently, putting slight pressure on it. He bends down and starts pressing delicate kisses right below her belly button and going lower. When his teeth graze the top of her baby pink, lacy panties, she lets out a tiny whimper. He bites the cute bow and pulls down; his eyes are closed and his fingers are digging into her supple skin, a sweet pressure pulling her back to reality.

Her feet trash a little bit, the covers of the bed becoming a mess in her wake.

Sakura unconsciously lifts her butt up when his hand places under her leg. Taking that as his cue, Sasuke grabs the underside of her lingerie and takes it off her.

With that out of the way, her legs spread apart and he leans back to take a good at her. So many thoughts are running through his head, too many things he wants to say to her. Compliment her beauty and ravishing body; even the most hidden parts of herself are pretty to him.

She looks gorgeous like this, all docile and yielding for him. Sasuke wants to worship her body and treat her with fairness; kiss every scar and caress every curve of her. Every little thing he cannot confess to her, he wants to convey it through every action he does just to please her.

The raven haired man wants to clear any doubts she might have in her head. He needs to make her his, claim her and show her how much she means to him. But first, he has to make sure she knows just how much he wishes to satisfy her.

Sasuke bends down once again, his head between her legs and his arm under thigh, his lone hand holding her captive.

Sakura puts her hands over her mouth in an attempt to muffle her upcoming reactions. When his hot breath fans over her wet folds, she loses it.

He hums thoughtfully as if he is pondering something and then his lips are on her most intimate area. First, a gentle kiss on her clit and then his lips part and he is consuming her wholly. Sasuke uses his tongue skillfully, parting her nether folds and lapping at her entrance. The skill he is displaying has the woman questioning her sanity.

He is very meticulous with her, going as far as using the sounds she makes as guidance. His mouth works in wicked ways and she is making embarrassing, loud noises.

When he pauses to take a breather, Sakura whines. The loss of this endless satisfaction turning her bratty.

"So wet, already," Sasuke says with pride.

Sakura wants to punch his face to the next dimension for that snarky comment, but he has her putty in his hands.

Her face is a little damp from sweat and she pushes a few loose pastel strands away from her sticky cheeks and forehead.

"Don't tease me," she pouts and she slaps his arm lightly – a warning.

Sasuke smirks as if expecting that reaction and then his hand leaves her thigh, a slight bruise already forming on her skin where he had been grabbing her.

Sakura's toes curl in anticipation, her hands settling flat at her sides.

At the same time, Sasuke's exploration begins once more, his mouth finding its place on her needy point. Her heart hammers in her chest and she feels her pleasure reach new heights when his fingers join his tongue.

He strokes her dutifully with his tongue while his two long digits spread her wet folds further apart, providing him with more access. Sakura moans in response, her legs unconsciously lifting with her feet landing gently on his shoulder blades.

Her eyes stop staring at ceiling and she watches as the man she desires has his face all up in her pussy, eating her out like she is the most delicious meal.

"A-ah, please," she keens, anything to lead him on.

Suddenly, he is sucking her clit benevolently, his eyes opening slowly when he senses her staring at him.

Sasuke's prowess activates committing this particularly sensual moment to his memory along with many others to come. Her green eyes are shining brightly and her skin glows; the color of her hair matching her skin, splashes of unique shades of pink intensifying her beauty to the next level. She is shaking slightly, trying fruitlessly to suppress her upcoming orgasm from reaching her too soon.

He itches to make her cum more than once, but his main mission for tonight is to make sure she remembers this night forever... just as he will.

Next thing Sakura knows, a finger is added to the mix and now both his tongue and this are hitting different pleasure points inside her.

Too soon, he suddenly stops and sighs against her quivering entrance. "Fuck, Sakura."

Those last few seconds were such a delicious sensation, she never wants him to stop until she is completely spent. Before she could prod him to continue, the woman feels his index entering her.

Sakura trembles when two fingers start going in and out of her in a fast pace, the intrusion welcome and needed. Then, as if this is not enough, his hand curls and his thumb starts teasing her clit simultaneously whenever possible.

Unable to do anything other than shake in his grasp, Sakura courses her hands roughly through his black hair needing to hold on to something. Her waist bends like a feline in heat, her chest heaving up and down and her breaths coming out in quick pants.

Sakura knows she might be hurting him with how much she is pulling on his hair, but she is unable to care at the moment. He deserves it for turning her in to this tiny, needy monster.

"Don't stop," she moans, face contorted in bliss. Her eyes are closed and her brows are furrowed in concentration. Sakura's mouth parts in a silent plea, her red lips shiny with spit.

She is so close, yet so far away.

Sasuke bites his lip, changes his position and moves to rest his forehead on her shoulder. He feels his member leaking precum inside his boxers and he tries to keep it together.

The man is listening intensely to all the beautiful sounds she is making and breathing hard. His pace is relentless and the muscle in his bicep is straining against his skin from the exertion he is putting it through.

Sasuke grits his teeth when Sakura's walls clench around his fingers, signaling she is close – he cannot stop now.

Sakura's arms loop around his neck and she hugs him close, their bodies sticking to each other. The position is not the most comfortable for him, but damn him if he does not love the way she feels around him. A few of her stiletto pointed nails dig into his skin, leaving angry marks on his back, but the pain just adds fuel to the fire.

"S-Sasuke-kun," she sobs into his neck, reaching euphoria finally. Her body spasms around him, his fingers getting coated with her juices.

Sasuke lets out a pleased sound, something akin to a quiet moan and rests his body on her, his hand coming at a stop and pulling out of her.

Sakura lies spent beneath him with her eyes closed and breaths shallow.

The black haired male feels immense pleasure and pride knowing he made her orgasm just with his fingers and his ego swells at her satisfaction. He has been wishing to be the only one to make her a hot mess like this.

Moreover, the discomfort he is experiencing right now because of her is distracting him from teasing her further, even though he truly enjoys watching her blush and squirm under his penetrating gaze and vexing comments.

His cock is solid hard and aching. It is borderline painful not only because he wishes to get his release soon, but also the whole stimulation confined in his pants is a dire situation that needs to be fixed immediately.

When she shifts underneath him, his boner brushes against her hipbone firmly. Sakura pauses, and peaks at him cautiously, her eyes burning with desire once again.

Not wanting her to make her uncomfortable, he tries to untangle himself from her, but the woman in his arms has other plans.

"You are…" Her voice speaks with purpose, however, her tone is light and shy.

Sasuke flushes and stays still as a rigid board, not wishing to discuss his rather big problem down there. He swears if she tries anything, he will lose control fully.

He is like a wild animal caged and untamed, but about to be set free.

The tall man starts to sit up on his knees in order to avoid the impending confrontation, but his member stands proud and obvious to the eyes. His hand, still wet from her peak, lies limply at his side. He swallows hard and blushes, turning to look the other way and avoiding her ignited stare.

Sakura's mouth waters at the sight displaying before her. Her beautiful lover has never looked hotter than this moment. His skin glistens slightly from perspiration, adding a nice glow to his body and accentuating his toned physique. Sasuke's bangs are tinted at the tips, damp from sweat.

His trousers, along with his boxers, hang low past his waistline and his pelvic bones peak out bringing attention to his happy trail and the prominent bulge in his pants. A vein is popping out in his bicep and Sakura catches a glimpse of his arm flexing, probably to ease up the muscle there.

Sasuke tries hard to compose himself in front of her, but his expression gives out and exposes how clearly turned on he is by this – as if his body has not showcased it enough to her.

It is her turn to command him, it seems.

Sakura decides to take the initiative since Sasuke has not moved from his spot. She approaches him cautiously, slowly sitting up on her elbows and regarding him. He murmurs something inaudible and glares at the mattress if it is the source of all his problems. Sakura takes his silence and his stagnant form as her cue and raises completely from the bed, her core still sore from his intense loving.

"Let me,"she whispers to him immediately upon kneeling in front of him. She almost does not recognize her own voice, with how seductive her tone sounds.

The moment the words come out of her mouth, Sasuke gets alert and his eyes widen a fraction. His lips part, ready to say something, probably to stop her, but he does not have the power to do so. She notices his sharingan is deactivated now, but the look he is giving her makes her resolute with her decision.

It incites her motivation to please him and show him how much she appreciates him and all of his efforts towards her. After that amazing orgasm he gave her, the talented man deserves to feel some kind of pleasure too. Besides, she cannot let him handle all that by himself, she thinks cheekily.

"Sasuke-kun," Sakura uses the best authoritative voice she can master at a time like this.

He instantly glances up at her, contemplating his options inside his head. Everything points to her with his dick in her mouth. Fuck him and his traitorous body. The most collected part of his brain melts at the thought of her even touching him.

Sakura's hand reaches forward and she palms him roughly through the layers of fabric, face set with a purpose in mind. Sasuke in return short circuits.

He allows himself to be completely overtaken by her.

His senses are overcome by the sheer desire coursing through his veins. Every fantasy, every touch, every word that has to do with her replaying like a broken mantra in his mind. He feels everything tenfold, the emotions consuming him like the black fire he commands to destroy.

Sasuke closes his eyes and takes a deep breath through his nose, his cheeks aflame and his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. His path to redemption has reached its final destination.

To become hers, wholly.

Sakura begins to massage him based on his repressed reactions like a twitch of his lip or the fluttering of his eyelashes. She starts gently, then she adds more pressure as she goes on. When the woman feels like she has had enough, she grabs the hem of his trousers and pulls down. The same process follows gradually for his boxers too. His cock stands proud and thick, complementing his already perfect figure.

Meanwhile, Sasuke, not knowing what to do, tries to minimize his reactions, preferring to stay reserved yet. His introverted nature makes him hesitant when he is the one on the receiving end. Despite that, he knows Sakura, being perceptive when it comes to him, will catch on quickly and she will accommodate herself to get customized to his still reluctant attitude.

Sakura understands why Sasuke acts so averse since he has yet to come to terms with that fact that it is alright to feel emotional. It is okay to express love and feel it consume you. He is afraid that if he lets himself go, he will never be able to stand even the thought of losing her.

When the outer part of her index finger starts to tenderly caress his hipbone, he shallows hard and opens his eyes to look at her.

The look she is giving him makes his heart flutter in his chest. Her expressive light green eyes shine with so much genuine adoration and her smile is sweet and warm; her whole aura feels inviting and secure.

"Sakura, I-" Sasuke begins, the tremor in his voice startling him.

"It's okay," Sakura says kindly and her other hand lifts, her palm laying flat atop of his heart. She soothes him with her next words, "It's okay to feel like this."

Sasuke studies her carefully, appreciating how much she cares for his comfort. She knows him so well and they are not even an item yet. He cannot wait to spend more time with her and learn each others' habits and quirks.

He lets out an affirmative hum and nods at her.

The powerful shinobi observes her as she continues her ministrations. Her left hand joins her right down there. She breathes out heartily, something akin to a laugh and an awkward smile etches across her face. Obviously, she has not done this before.

Then, Sakura purses her lips and with determined expression on her face, her right hand descends smoothly on his rock hard cock. The head is angry, red in color, his shaft one shade darker than the rest of his body. The girl inspects it as discreetly as possible and with two swift motions, her fingers circle around him and she begins to stroke him gently.

Sasuke lets out a hiss, unprepared for the foreign contact. He has touched himself before thinking of her, but nothing compares to this new, real sensation.

Her left hand stays still, clasping firmly his left hipbone to steady her movements. Sakura peers at him from underneath her pastel eyelashes, jade orbs shining innocently just as she bends down and places her bruised, scarlet lips right before his manhood.

Sasuke gulps down the saliva stuck in his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing. Sakura breathes out hotly on it, blinks at him and her tongue comes out to lick him.

The first swipe of her cute tongue against his shaft makes him let out a quiet moan. Unconsciously, his lone hand grabs a fistful of her hair, tangling his fingers in her soft tresses. He tags her forward a little bit, her mouth and nose bumping on his hardness, urging her to take him into her mouth.

Sakura, realizing she needs to step her game up, opens up and pushes his cock inside her mouth. She starts to suck him, creating a steady rhythm in tandem with her right hand. Half of his member is inside her crevice, her jaw stretching and aching pleasantly because of his girth while her hand strokes the other half that she cannot fit in her mouth yet. His size is above average and hard to handle, but it is nothing Sakura cannot learn to master with Sasuke as her teacher.

In time, she swears, Sakura will learn to please him so good, she will have him begging for more.

The woman picks up the pace, and her taste buds feel a salty essence on her tongue. He is starting leak precum already and her suspicions are further confirmed when he commences to panting.

Sasuke is rougher with her now, pushing her forward and making her cheeks hollow out. Her jaw hurts, but the pain is welcome. She gags a little bit, but she does not relent, wishing to deep throat him further.

"F-fuck, Sakura," he curses, his pleasured groans music to her ears. Sasuke sees white behind his closed eyelids, and he grits his teeth trying to hold on longer to the feeling.

The air smells like sex, and the hormones releasing from Sasuke's body makes his manly musk even more intense as Sakura tries to breath through her nose since her mouth is busy.

She moans loudly at a rather harsh tag against her scalp, and the vibrations it creates against his dick cause Sasuke to buckle suddenly. Her fingernails dig into his skin anew and it stimulates him even more, his orgasm approaching at an alarming rate.

Her strokes become uneven, but faster. At that moment, he decides to look down at her, and seeing her like this, on her knees for him doing everything she can in order to satisfy him enhances his experience even further.

"S-Sakura," Sasuke tries to warn her, albeit late. "—I am going to-"

Before he can get any more words out of his mouth, his climax hits him and his hand grips her hair hard, holding on for dear life.

"A-ah," Sasuke lets out a racy moan; a foreign sound when it comes to him. His eyes close in satisfaction and he leans forward slightly, riding out the remnants of his orgasm inside her mouth.

The image that greets him is enough to make him hard again.

Despite being unprepared, Sakura took his cock well, his semen filling her up and quenching her thirst to please him. She shallows everything he has to offer, like its sweet wine pouring down her throat.

He releases her hair finally, and in return she lets out his member fall out of her mouth with a loud pop. At the same time her left arm abandons its place at his hip and steadies herself on the bed instead. Her lips are bruised and swollen, while her hair is wild and untamed, the endeavor clearly leaving her disheveled. Her chin is shiny with spit and some of the excess fluids that must have spilled out.

As if this is not erotic or sensual enough, her fingers come forth and tap on her coated lips and chin to capture any sticky residue that has escaped. She glances up at him from her spot on all fours before him and puts her fingertips in her mouth, savoring every drop of him. Sakura smirks mischievously up at him, putting his infamous sneers to shame.

Sasuke almost gives in, ready to act out all his shameful thoughts away.

Sakura's core still burns deliciously and Sasuke's reactions to her has made her a little wet, in need of attention again, but she does not voice anything out loud and chooses to let this moment pass. They have all the time in the world, after all. The beautiful woman sits on her knees, her palms resting flat on her thick thighs and she lets out a content sigh.

And just like that, their lust infused spell is broken, their awkwardness and shyness returning back, reverting to their usual selves.

The man seems to have a similar thought process, because he relaxes and following her lead, he sits down on the bed.

They exchange a few fleeting glances, unspoken naughty thoughts going back and forth between them; the newly made couple stays put instead.

A few minutes pass, and then Sakura is getting up. She is fully naked, but she is not ashamed anymore, flashing her gorgeous naked body to him.

"We should probably wash up," she comments as casually as possible to alleviate the awkward atmosphere. Unconsciously, the girl scratches her head and puts a few pink locks behind her ears.

In an act of bravery, Sakura adds a proposition.

"Join me?" she asks and extends her hand out.

"Aa." Sasuke nods and gets up from the bed in all his naked glory, leaving his trousers and boxers behind.

Sakura clasps their hands together and leads him to her private bathroom.

Sakura steps inside the shower stall, Sasuke following close behind and joining her, just as she opens the tap. She alters it from faucet to shower head and together they let themselves be washed by the hot steam. His lone hand grabs her by the hip, aligning her thick behind to his still semi hard length. Sakura bends over a little bit, both palms laying flat on the shower wall, probing him further to sensually rub against her. They stay like this for awhile, their aftermath of their hot desire still prominent, influencing their movements.

Sasuke leans in close and hugs her, his hand continuing its journey and draping over her tummy, bringing her adjacent to his chest in an intimate embrace. Then, he kisses her neck and closes his eyes, sighing in contentment. His black hair is fully wet, sticking to his face and obscuring the left side of it completely.

The pink haired beauty, enjoying the warmth provided by her lover, exhales in quick gasps, her lips parting – tasting the water on her tongue, quenching her imaginary thirst. Her pastel locks stick to every part of her face, the hair transforming under the influence of the humidity and turning one shade darker, a close mix of hot pink and coral.

Deciding she has had enough, and this could lead them further into an endless inferno of love and sex, Sakura grabs the nearest bottle of soap and pours some of it into her open palm. Noting the new development, Sasuke lets go of her and allows the woman in his arms to turn around. She starts to wash his hair, standing on her tip toes. To help her out, Sasuke tries to shorten his height by buckling his knees a tiny bit and minimizing the distance between them.

He inclines forward, favoring her gentle touch, her caresses soothing him. The man pulls her into his chest, his arm circling around her waist and hugging her close. Her fingers tend to his scalp, her nails scratching him and creating a pleasurable, fuzzy effect.

Finishing her task, Sakura washes the soap suds off his head with the help of the flowing water, creating bubbles in her wake.

To return the favor to herself, Sakura pours another patch of soap straight atop of her head and turns around. "My turn," she says, giddy.

"Sure, darling." Sasuke says ironically to tease her, smirking lazily. Not counting the implications of such endearment, they both brush it off as a joke for the time being.

He stars to tend to her locks, coursing his fingers through her hair and smothering the soap everywhere, washing her up. Sakura stays still, humming in appreciation at the gentle touch of her menacing warrior, marveling at the fact he is becoming this soft with her.

When his hand descends lower and starts massaging her nape, Sakura lets out a whimper, feeling her knots loosen under his skillful fondling; the stress leaves out of her in a whoosh.

Sakura relaxes under his ministrations, not minding him caressing her body, from her shoulder blades down to her backside. Stopping just above her perky butt, Sasuke halts abruptly, not wanting to be tempted to do more. Paying attention to his struggle, the woman turns around and gives him a chaste peck on the lips.

After that small show of affection, the beauty does not waste anymore time and pours soap all over his body in a rush. He grimaces instantly at the sudden assault, but she does not relent, giggling heartily at his reaction. With the steam volume lowered, she gets her chance to wash his body clean, helping him out and lending a hand wherever it deems necessary.

Busy as he is, Sakura begins her own cleaning process. Using her hands quickly, she gives herself a throughout bath, paying extra attention to her nether regions. Always preppy and careful, Sasuke makes a good use of his lone hand and he washes up nicely, leaving no spot unattended.

They both finish around the same time, and Sakura adjusts the temperature and flow to fit their needs. Splashes of hot water come out strongly, rinsing their foamy bodies fully.

With that out of the way, Sakura grabs the nearest towels she can find; one for her and one for her lover. She lends it to Sasuke who steps out of the stall, giving her more space. The material feels fluffy as she brushes the towel against her body, wiping any excess water.

Sasuke swipes his black locks behind, the purple of his rinnegan glimmering in the low dimmed lights of the bathroom. The mirror is foggy from humidity so his reflection is blurry, a haze of skin in contrast to his glowing eye and dark hair. Sakura's pink halo comes to view, the rose to his black abyss; the contradiction of their permanent colors a poem of its own.

He uses the towel she gave him to wipe away most of the wetness on his skin, tapping gently everywhere. Meanwhile, Sakura struggles to squeeze all the water out of her hair, the towel moving along her scalp to make her strands as dry as possible. Sasuke follows her steps and uses his own towel to dampen his locks just enough so it is not dripping on his shoulders anymore.

After that, they both take a few minutes of their time to finish some extra bathroom businesses respectively and they exit the room. Clean and fresh, the couple lies on the bed; the fact that Sasuke has his own separate room across the hall left unsaid.

Sakura turns to her side to look at him, her body slightly curling to adjust to her favorite sleeping position. Sasuke lies on his stomach, his head turned to his left, staring at her silently. It feels quite domestic like this, Sakura almost muses out loud.

"Good night, Sasuke-kun," she says sweetly, a toothy grin on her face.

She is happy, Sasuke thinks. He blinks slowly, savoring every second he is looking at her.

"Goodnight," the man responds, a tiny smile gracing his lips.

His eyes speak way more volumes than his words are. The night may be small, but their love is forever. Both content, they let the need to sleep overtake them.

Knock, knock, knock.

What an awful background noise for the nice dream she is having; Sakura stirs in her sleep, her brows furrowing as she tries to hang on to the sleepless state. The imaginary images stop and her mind draws a blank.

She feels a little drool on her lips and her hand unconsciously wipes it away.

Sakura-chan!

Ah, yes, Naruto of course, Sakura thinks, exasperated.

Then, the weirdest thing happens. The woman hears mumbling next to her, more specifically grumbling. This person must be quite grumpy in the morning, because next thing she knows, someone curses.

"Oh my god, I can't believe this!" The blond is desperate, his fist banging against the wooden door loudly.

"Wake up Sakura-chan!" Naruto bellows, frustration clear in his voice, "That bastard, Sasuke, had the audacity to leave before us!"

This piques Sakura's interest, because she clearly recalls being the last one to see Sasuke last night. Just when she was enjoying her sleep, her overly excited friend had to come and remind her about her problem.

But wait a minute…

The culprit came to her room last night.

"Shut up," a male voice mumbles hoarsely, the grouchy tone awfully familiar.

Sakura's eyes widen instantly and the sight that greets her makes her breath hitch.

Sasuke is on his back, his lone arm resting on top of his eyes, trying to prevent the sunlight from peeking through his closed eyelids. His chest is rising up and down, the blanket barely covering his naked torso.

"Open up, already, Sakura, don't keep me waiting!" The blue eyed man shouts desperately. He is ready to barge into Kakashi's room if his friend does not show signs of waking up anytime soon. Sasuke has obviously left the building since his room is empty, no sign of him found anywhere when the blond barged into his room.

His options are limited here, and he thought since Sakura usually wakes up early, she would be the one to keep him company until they meet up with Kakashi.

Sakura is about to have a quarter life crisis here. She cannot believe she woke up to this. First, she felt annoyed at being woken up so abruptly, and now, as she stares at Sasuke's good looking side profile, she feels like someone is trying to torture her.

Then, in flash, her memory floods back and Sakura remembers exactly what went down last night. More specifically, how Sasuke went down on her.

Her loins burn and her core aches in a gratifying sense.

"Oh my god," Sakura whispers, trying to keep her voice down. In any other circumstances, she would be shouting. The woman puts her palms upon her heated cheeks, gaping at her lover who seems to be clueless as to what is going on.

"Okay fine," Naruto announces dejectedly, his voice a tad lower this time. With one last look at the door, the young man finally leaves.

Sakura lets out a breath she did not realize she was holding in. Sasuke seems to be wide awake, although his attitude leaves no room for discussion. He is still quite sleepy, and Naruto's wake up call was not the best to start the day with.

"Finally," The man besides her mutters. Sakura pokes his arm, curious to see his reaction to their predicament.

He looks at her from the corner of his eye, processing everything in. When his stare softens, Sakura greets him breathlessly. "Good morning, Sasuke-kun."

She gazes at him lovingly, remembering how his words left searing marks on her heart, how his lips felt against her skin, making her his.

"Morning," he mumbles and turns to his side, bringing her lithe form close in an intimate hug. Sakura fits herself into his embrace instantly when she realizes what his intentions are.

The couple snuggles silently for a while, their soft exhalations the only sound in the room. The birds are lightly chirping outside, creating a nice cicada in the quiet morning.

"The idiot can be quite a hassle in the morning," Sasuke murmurs suddenly as if commenting about the weather.

He pulls her closer, basking in her scent. His gentle touch, a huge contrast to his past self who was selfish and harsh. She is making him kind again, bringing forth the child like innocence he used to have. The man sighs against her, his heartbeat calm and his mind clear from any insidious thoughts.

The only thing important in his life is in front of him, right in his arms.

Sakura laughs, a beautiful sound and it rings inside him like a bell signaling happiness.

"Yes, always," Sakura responds, a teasing smile on her lips. "But he is our idiot and I wouldn't trade him for the world."

"Sure," Sasuke sneers, mirth somewhere hidden in there.

"Should we..?" Sakura suddenly asks, the implications clear. She gazes up at him seriously, awaiting for his opinion, making sure he is comfortable with all this.

"Let them figure it out on their own," Sasuke says, his eyes sincere. "Besides it will be funnier that way," the black haired man smirks, enjoying immensely the possibility of Kakashi and especially Naruto struggling.

"Hm, fine," Sakura smiles, her eyes glinting evilly. He is becoming a bad influence to her, but she will not lie and pretend that she will not be enjoying torturing those two – their funny comments about her beloved Sasuke-kun had teased her far enough.

Having decided that, the couple gets up and starts preparing for their day. Sasuke collects last night's clothes and wears them again. He bids Sakura a soft kiss goodbye on the forehead and heads to his room to finish up getting ready. Sakura blushes and stares at this retreating back fondly, a huge grin forming on her lips.

When he is out of the room, Sakura punches the bed in excitement, letting out a muffled cry, "Shannaro!".

Half an hour later, all members of Team seven meet up at the hotel lobby. Naruto's reaction is instant, proclaiming how he is going punch Sasuke's lights out for disappearing. The man explains, cool and collected, how it was none of the blond's business where he went. This arises some suspicions and some raised eyebrows as to where Sasuke could have went.

Sakura is trying to be subtle, really, but she is having too much fun. She giggles every now and then, throwing fleeting glances at her lover who is avoiding answering any questions about his whereabouts, probing the curious men even further to try and understand what could have possibly went down between the full of tension – not yet or so they thought – couple.

"I am going to find out what what is going on here and when I do, I will never let you guys leave it down," Naruto swears – an oath he is bound to regret really, really soon...

#sasusaku #sakura haruno #sasuke uchiha #sasusaku fanfiction #sasusaku fanfic #ssfanfiction #ssfanfic #ssfic #vasoula writes #this whole ordeal took weeks my bro #i tried my best #i proud of this

61 notes · View notes

degenerate-yandere · 4 years

Note

Maybe something for yan Izuku's s/o pretending and humoring Izuku's delusions because she's scared of what will happen if she doesn't and hopes that if she plays along it'll build up good credit. Like acts like the perfect house wife, greets him when he gets home in hopes that she'll still be able to go outside to run errands outside.leans like a maniac to distract herself from how stressed and paranoid she os of him snapping. smiles, kisses, holds him, and hopes he stays happy and bubbly

Yet another great request that I was afraid to ruin. Hope you enjoy it anyway, Hun!

A/N: This takes place after the main events of the story, when Izuku is the adult No.1 pro hero.

TW: Abuse, threats of violence, kidnapping, toxic relationships

Deep breaths.

The taunting tick of the clock signaled the approach of that terrifying inevitability.

6:58 PM

You’d prepared dinner; two steaming plates sitting opposite each other across the table. It was a laborious task - not from the work of slaving over the stove, but the pure emotional toll of cooking for your captor. It was humiliating, an open submission to the domestic delusion he’d trained you to uphold. Just like now, as you waited by the locked door like a dog anticipating its masters return. He loved being greeted home with a peck on the cheek. It never failed to make his freckled face flush, uncaring that the act was performed with such rehearsed sterility. How hard it was to withhold the retch when your lips met his skin, or scream when he gently took your hand in his larger one as he guided you to the table.

7:00 PM

Any moment, he’d be back and you’d be forced to repeat that deranged routine - the one that ensured he remained nice and gentle. First hand experience had made you realize just how long a broken bone took to mend. Your leg still tensed with pain whenever you stood on it - a reminder of just how desperate you were to escape the psychotic hero. That was your first punishment.

You hugged the frame of his bed, staring at the chain coiled around your ankle with eyes wide in complete terror. He just sat beside you, the mattress dipping from his weight. He smiled sweetly as you begged and pleaded; as a hundred confused questions flooded from your mouth like the tears seeping down your cheeks. He hummed in response - a despairingly unsatisfying answer to the suffocating situation you were in. Calloused fingers began tracing your leg as his emerald gaze devoured your petrified form. Violently, you curled inwards away from his sickening touch. He didn’t like that. Nor did he like your subsequent promises of escape. His mouth quirked into a slight frown, disappointment flashing in his eyes. To your utter dismay, his hand swiftly advanced to grasp your leg, forcibly yanking it outstretched. You winced in pain - tears intensifying as his gaze turned regretful; shifting into a silent apology. Oh god. Breath quickening to such a pace it felt as if your heart would spew from your mouth, his grip growing tighter and tighter and tighter. Words were held back by the insurmountable dread choking your throat.

“I’m so sorry, (y/n). I really don’t want to do this. It’s for your own good, promise.” You begged through frantic, painful jerks of your head. Placing his other hand on your knee only cemented the torturous anticipation. Izuku simply smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “I’m really, really sorry, honey. I just - I can’t let you get away with hurting me like that.” The irony was palpable, but your drowning fear silenced any retorts. “You’ll forgive me though, I know you will. You’ll see, (Y/n). Everything I do is for you.” Green sparks ran along his forearms. The sound was just as deafening as the pain was blinding.

Snap

The familiar sound of keys clicking into place demanded your attention. You breathed in and out slowly, a learned maneuver to be able to tolerate his crushing presence. A glimpse of greenery from the slither of open door was as tempting as it was fleeting. Hope was replaced with utter disgust as you met with his face. It was slick with a light sheen of sweat, bruises and dirt painting it with the usual consequences of hero work. He beamed so brightly when he saw you. It was blinding in its psychotic bliss.

“Hey, Honey! I’m so sorry I was late - got a bit held back at work. Y’know how it is.” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. His apologies meant nothing, you’d learned that much.

“Welcome home, Izuku.” Your pace was slow, a fragile string of words carefully repeated time and time again. You couldn’t afford to stutter. Izuku had to believe you wanted this as much as he did if you would ever be able to chance an escape. Make him believe this was real; that it was normal and reciprocated. The eager acceptance of his intrusive affections was what made him remove that damnable chain, he finally trusted you to wander the house. He didn’t bother to hide knives or makeshift weapons; almost taunting you with his power to overwhelm you. You leaned into him, lips slightly pursed as you thought of kissing anyone else but him. A finger met your mouth, causing your eyes to snap open with surprise. You didn’t rehearse for this.

“Hey, I was thinking, could you call me Deku, just for tonight?” his finger withdrew, opting for his gloved thumb to rub against your cheek. That’s when you saw it. That glint of lust in his eye. Izuku’s lips drew closer to yours, breath dusting against your face. “I’ve had a really long day. You could make it all better for me. You want that, right? To make me feel better?” Your heartbeat was deafening, thumping harshly against your rib cage. Without a second thought, your hands were pushing against his chest. A quizzical raise of his eyebrow sent numbing chills down your spine.

“I-I’ve made dinner, Izu - Deku.” His tongue darted to wet his lips as you spoke his hero name so adorably. You repressed a shriek as his hands snapped to your waist, pulling you flush against his body. His lips ghosted the shell of your ear.

“I’m hungry for something else tonight, (y/n).” Bile rose to your throat as his lips pressed fervently against yours. Pretend its anyone else - just pretend. You couldn’t take it much longer; you wrenched your head away, Izuku’s brows furrowing in response. “What’s wrong, babe?” He almost sounded authentically concerned, if not for the impatience that laced each word. You opted to look at his boots - it was far easier to compose yourself when you did.

“I-I cleaned the house today,” He let slip an infuriating ‘aw’, thumb tracing the bottom of your lip.

“That’s great, honey,” Izuku cooed.

“Maybe I should reward my good, little -”

“We’re out of food, I-I thought maybe when you’re working tomorrow I c-could go and get some more.” You were emboldened, electrified with newfound confidence. That soon proved fleeting, however, when he took a step back, fear filling its void as his eyes narrowed. His head shook as he scratched at his cheek.

“(Y/n)… that would mean-” Your hands trembled in front of you as you hesitantly placed them upon his chest, a plea for his trust.

“Leaving the house - I know,” Swallowing back your anxiety, your head arched to meet his concerned expression. “But you can trust me, ‘Zuku. I’ll come back, I-”

His hand crushed your wrist like a vice, your composure exploding into choking fear. “No!” He shouted. It was terrifyingly uncharacteristic.

Shots of pain accompanied the cracks from your wrist. “I-Izuku it hurts!”.

“Does it (y/n)!? Maybe it feels even a FRACTION of what I feel!” Hot tears slipped down his cheeks, as your pained ones did the same. With his free fingers, he rubbed his eyes harshly, wetting his fingers in the process. Those green eyes shot to you; furious and sorrowful. The muscles of his face moved erratically between the two extremes. When you tried to look away, his grip only tightened.

“Why… why is it so hard to just love me.” Izuku’s voice was riddled with hiccups and sobs, teeth clenched so hard that they threatened to crack. “What will it take, (y/n)? Why do you want to leave so badly? You hate me, don’t you?” Your head shook, fighting against the desire to tell him how right he was.

Izuku was completely crying now, no restraints upon those fragile emotions. His palm rubbed against his face as he grunted in pure frustration. It was when he grew silent, however, you became petrified. His eyes ensnared yours, solemn and terrifying.

“It’s okay, (y/n). I can help you.” That voice, previously overflowing with provocation, was purposeful and strict. Against your pathetic resistance, he dragged you to the bedroom, shoving you upon the soft mattress. “You’ll learn to love me. I know you will. This is for you.” You could only cry as you knew what would inevitably ensue.

He cracked his knuckles.

“Everything I do is for you.”

859 notes · View notes

bloodys44 · 3 years

Text

Silence and Cigarette Smoke

Original story and bonus content found here! ↓↓↓↓

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13289933/1/Silence-and-Cigarette-Smoke

Chapter 8 was just posted on ff.net if ya wanna read ahead :) Enjoy!

Chapter 5: The Smoke That Smells of Grief

788

The wind was vicious that morning, tearing through the gnarled streets of Stella without mercy. Lucy was sure the raw skin of her cheeks would soon crack from the terrifying force and the wicked chill. She had never liked the wind, it was annoying and wild to say the very least. But today, she stood without complaint. Mother Nature was lashing out, heartbroken by the death of her daughter, a sky goddess. She had a right to be mad, and her anger was excused. And Lucy decided that her opinion on what she hated and what she loved was very askew, if not evidence enough by the cigarette perched on her lip. She had stolen a few from Natsu's extra pack, the one tucked discreetly at the bottom of his bag. Hidden, because he told Lucy he didn't smoke as much as he really did. It was probably so she didn't worry, which she definitely did, so maybe he was right to do so. Hopefully, he wouldn't be too upset about parting with three.

Natsu's cigarettes were nice. He rolled them himself, with extreme care, and chard a symbol of a flame on every filter. He said it was so he could tell them apart from Grey's, back when they were forced to share a room after bursting pipes flooded the guild. Yet even now, years after parting with his roommate, he still took the time to do it. They reminded her of the ones her father used to smoke, so maybe he just wanted to smoke something that felt luxurious. Regardless, the warm burn she felt in her chest on every inhale was arguably the only thing keeping her grounded to reality. It told her that yes, she was breathing. And yes, she was alive.

They had decided to spend the night in a forgotten and long-abandoned apartment building near the edge of town. Natsu said they looked far too skittish and ragged to waltz into a public inn. He was right of course, the whole townscape was alive and rabid after all the excitement the previous evening. The building wasn't so bad either, lack the smell of rotted wood and soaked cement. They had lucked out, finding a room with neglected furniture and a somewhat working bathroom sink and, much to Natsu's excitement, a sealed jar of moonshine. The apartment was small and rather bizarrely laid out. A hall winding around the abandoned rooms like an ominous mazed shell. The drain located in the kitchen sink smelled of bloated decomposing and the bathroom was a ghastly shade of green that Lucy was sure, shouldn't exist. But, it was somewhat warm and out of the evening rain, so really, she couldn't complain. The 'bedroom' had a weird octagonal shape and held nothing but a singular partly disintegrated mattress shoved against the far wall. The grungy bathroom with the working sink was linked with a doorless frame to the left of the one leading into the bedroom. To the right was a door-styled window that opened to a small rust ridden deck. That's where Lucy was now, shivering against the malicious wind and pretending she wasn't cold. Puffing away on a cigarette that looked so out of place in her hand while she tried not to cry. The more she tried to wrap her head around last night's awful adventure, the more it felt like some sick hallucinated joke over anything real. With a final exaggerated exhale Lucy flicked the defeated roll of tobacco over the terrace railing, leaning heavily on it and losing herself in the cryptic groan the metal gave while she watched it fall. She didn't know what to do, her usually organized mind was spinning in her skull and her thoughts came out of order in relentless spurts. The image of Lissana's blood soaking into the dirt packed earth did nothing but jar repressed memories of her mother. Memories of the day she hadn't listened to her warning and glanced back while running through the crowd. Memories of that disgustingly prominent guillotine blade slicing her head clean off and soaking the earth with her blood just the same. It even sounded the same, the tearing of human flesh. The thought churned her stomach roughly and forced a violent gag. The burning laceration at the side of her throat pulling in a very dreadful way, which in turn did very little to help sway her thoughts from where they were currently stationed.

She had been drowning in her own brain from the moment they arrived at their camp late last night, and she was sure she wouldn't be free to stop anytime soon. Replaying all her actions, trying to see what she could have done better. The answer to that was a whole hell of a lot, starting at the beginning when she ignored Natsu's rightly nervous warnings. He was always right about these things, she should have listened. This, though, also caused agitation, because how could somebody that had practical cabbage for brains always be right. She prided herself on her intellect, but her street skills were becoming a chronically flunked elective. And there Natsu would be to prove her wrong, standing strong and ready to save the day. Only this time, he didn't. And everything was mixed and upside down.

Her throat burned, and Lucy had to stagger herself to withhold the childish whine. Natsu's stitches were a downright hack job, pulling at her skin in gruesome ways. She now understood why Mira got so pent up when he tried to mend himself. To be fair, he had practically begged her not to force his hand. His eyes had been so dark, almost black when she told him that he had too. She couldn't do it herself, vision already wavering from either head trauma or the obvious blood loss. "I can't do this to you." He had protested. Sitting there looking like a beaten child with a thick, blunt and rather dull sewing needle gripped between his two fingers. He had scavenged it from the mouldy kitchen, along with a long thread he had torn from the moth ridden couch. The jar of moonshine popped open to drench his fingers and tools. Her small first aid pouch lost somewhere in the mine. "I'm going to bleed out." She had retorted bluntly. To which, he said. "It's going to hurt." While taking a jarring swig of the moonshine pot, and managing to keep his expressive features schooled from the taste. She figured dying of blood loss would be far worse and sat herself on the green and white checkered floor beside him. Crawling between his somewhat spread legs(as far as the cramped bathroom would allow) and resting so her back was on his chest. The first stitch was brutal, the needle getting caught on her skin in all the wrong ways. She bit down on his bicep to keep from screaming, just like he had instructed. Her mouth tasted of iron, her teeth piercing his skin, but he didn't complain so she didn't either. Natsu sometimes grunted disapprovingly from behind her. His trembling hands trying to soothe her with circles on her back. It didn't get any easier, by the fifth stitch she was a teary mess, and she could have sworn she felt the shudder of Natsu's chest while he choked back his own sobs.

They hadn't spoken much since then. The night was silent, Lucy curled up alone on the mattress and Natsu hunched over on the terrace. Keeping watch, he had told her while wrapping her up in his favourite travelling blanket. One Mira had knitted him after hearing he had arrived at the guild with nothing. The yarn was well worn, and matted in places. Three (clearly sewn on by Natsu) patches were situated on the lower half. But it was clean and smelt like him. Volcanic ash and spiced cinnamon, clashing with rain-forest mist and sap drizzled bark. Only on the exhale could you taste the mint, and not once did the sensation lack in its delivery of peace. He didn't sleep at all that night, she knew because she didn't either. Nor did he do much watching, instead he spent the dark hours studying his boots, the ones he had traded his mud-caked sandals for. He didn't look up once and she knew it was because the night sky was ruined for him. His glorious moon had fallen and now the sky held only black.

When the sun's rays had barely scraped over the landscape Natsu stood, stretched briefly before darting inside. Lucy pushed herself up upon his arrival, hoping he was coming to help talk her through what her mind couldn't digest. That wasn't his goal though, as he informed her he was heading out to meet the client. He owes us a reward, he informed. She pleaded with him not to go, that it wasn't worth it and the job was a lost cause. He looked about ready to explode and said "The gang is gone. We did what he asked. And I'm getting that fucking book." Short and to the point, then he was out the door, nearly slipping on the edge of his cloak in hurry. That was four hours ago and the cold had already numbed her skin to the pain and lost its distracting effect. Lucy was worried, and if he didn't show up soon she was sure to do something rash. She lit the last of her three cigarettes, relishing in the spin it gifted her head and the sour taste that burned her throat.

Several minutes passed before his cloaked frame rounded the street corner and Lucy inhaled deeply again, trying to let her heart palpitations slow. He stopped just before the front doors, staring at her from his spot on the cobble path two stories lower. His eye's fixated on the cigarette in her fingers. He gave his head a meaningful shake before heading in, it was only seconds before she heard his boots thunking across the hall's floorboards. She crept back through the bedroom window, meeting him as he emerged through the door.

"That's a pretty nasty habit you've picked up?"

His almost cheerful sounding remark caught her off guard, not that his constantly changing emotions didn't always. She raised her brow at him, sealing the windowed entrance behind her to cut off the colds connection. He looked worse than when he left, covered in mud and sporting a new gash on his brow with a matching set on his lower lip. She always hated when it was his face that got beaten.

"How did it go?" She chose to bat, ignoring his observation. She knew he noticed the way she was eyeing his new injuries, he chose to ignore that too.

"Fine. I got the book." Her eye's widened a fraction but she didn't ask to see it. The very idea of it seemed distasteful for the moment, the words too heavy for her tongue. "Are you feeling alright? Your flushed." His quick flip of the subject had again taken her off guard. She wasn't sure if it was because of the cold or because she really didn't feel that well, the irking feeling her throat was infected constantly pestering her. Or maybe it was the way his deep orbs lingered a little too long on her face, all concern and no lust that caused her to redden more. It was fact that no other man in her entire life had ever looked at her with such respect. She might have told him so, if not for the tremendously awful situation they were trapped in. He stepped towards her, placing the back of his hand to her forehead and retracting it quickly. "Jesus Lucy you're freezing!" Yeah, maybe it was just the temperature that caused her cherry colouring. "How long were you outside?"

"How did you get those?" She bounced back, gesturing to his newly sported lacerations. Natsu grunted in frustration and shook his head, taking hold of her shoulders and guiding her to sit on the mattress. He sat behind her, wrapping his sculpted arms around her frame and warming his skin until Lucy felt she was being held down by a radiator. She could tell he wanted to leave, getting home was at the very top of his priority list. But she knew he wouldn't push until he deemed her warm and well enough for travel.

"It's chaotic out there, got into a bit of a scuff. S'fine." He partly explained.

"Did anybody die?"

"No. Wasn't that bad."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

They were quiet for a minute, listening only to one another's breathing. She missed when Natsu was younger, like when she had just met him. He couldn't keep a secret, and he most certainly wouldn't be vague like this. Wanting to spill the story so he wasn't alone in dealing with it, that it was in someone else's head too. More recently he seemed to internalize everything, and this was no exception.

"I was only outside for a bit." One shabby answer for another.

"Bullshit, you're freezing."

"It's summer."

"It's freezing."

"Yeah."

Silence for another beat.

"You shouldn't do that, you could get frostbite."

Lucy ignored him then, swivelling herself so she was facing him. Their noses were practically touching, she could feel his warm breath and spy every freckle that danced over the slope of his nose. A sigh escaped her as she scrounged up the courage to ask what they were both thinkings. "What do we do when we're home?"

"I don't know."

"Okay."

His expression then reminded her of the time she had caught him and Lissana sneaking off together after Elfman's birthday. It was the same expression he wore when she tried to kiss him out behind the greenhouses. The scene had been romantic if she recalled properly. Low sunsets and blossom petals scattering over the FairyTail grounds like a soothing aura. He had been drinking, Lucy could tell from her spot behind the farthest gardening shed. Maybe he had simply been too tipsy to notice her approach with that hound nose, or maybe he just didn't care. His eyes were blown wide like her family's holiday dinner plates, watching as a bashful Lissana perched on the tips of her toes, snagging her fingers on his signature scarf and pulling him down to meet her lips. His eye's closed only momentarily before he shifted back some, gently staggering to put some space between their lips. "What are you doing?" She had asked him. And there, that was the same face he was wearing now, as if the brain behind his onyx eyes had melted away. An empty skull playing an act. "I don't know." He said just the same.

And they sat in that silence for a while, until Natsu decided she looked alive enough to go, or that she looked too bad to stay any longer. Her throat was definitely infected, and she felt like a man clawing through withdrawal. But she knew her dragon would get her home safely and she closed her eyes and let him gather their things. She must have walked with him to the station, but the rest of their travel was mostly a blur from there.

Their treck home from magnolia station very much reminded Lucy of her first encounter with Natsu, strung up across his chest, incased in his rigid arms while he carried her with ease. Her conscious state somewhat unreliable. Though back then, his expression hadn't been so grim and his shoulders hadn't been so tense. The tear in his brow had re-opened slightly over their walk, a line of red slowly drawing down the edge of his face. She had watched it drip patiently, over the edge of his cheekbones and down his cheek until it dipped under his jaw and she had to turn away. Seeing his blood always pained something in her she'd rather ignore. She wished he would whisper calming words against her cheek like he had last time. She still couldn't remember the words he spoke, but the feeling of calm had stayed with her all these years. But he didn't, not even a glance her way. And Lucy decided that if this was a new beginning like it was back then, she didn't like it at all. She closed her eyes and hoped her swaying brain would help her forget it.

Their arrival back home didn't pan to be something she wanted to remember either. Apparently Lissana had been very vocal about going on a job with Natsu, and their guild-mates had been quick to notice her absence in their return. They all poured out questions of her whereabouts, and why they looked so sick and beaten. But Natsu didn't answer, so Lucy didn't either. He kept his line of sight true as he marched her up to the infirmary, where thankfully it was only Porlyusica on shift. She didn't ask too many questions, only made comment to tell them moonshine is an awful disinfectant and these stitches are horrendous but they probably saved her life. Lucy was just thankful Mira wasn't back yet and working today, she just wasn't sure if she'd be able to look at her yet. Natsu stayed with her just long enough for Porlyusica to say she would be fine in a few days with the proper medication and rest. Almost as soon as she finished speaking he was out the door mumbling that he was going off to tell the headmaster the mission report. Lucy begged with him to wait, that she would go with him, but he wouldn't. And for hours after, the castle's walls rang with the cries of their substitute father.

Lucy was put on bed rest for no less than a week. She was cleaned thoroughly and re-stiched with skilled hands. Natsu had been completely resistful about his own medical care and had waited in the hall for Porlyusica to finish with her tasks. After that though, he perched himself at the foot of her bed and didn't leave until she was permitted to do so as well. Sneaking in cigarettes to smoke when the nurses changed shift. And for every night following her release, he did the same, sleeping against her wall at the foot of her dorm bed. It was like he was watching her, scared that if he looked away she would disappear too. His whole personality had been turned down about twelve notches, his internal fire seemed so smothered. She was never alone anymore, constantly coddled by him. And though she appreciated his constant presence and care, it grinded her a little that he wouldn't even spare her a walk alone through the grounds. Silently following her just out of range.

Another week and a half passed before Mira, Elfman, and Laxus returned from their job. Lucy had woken to Natsu pacing her room rather frantic. His hair spiked from stressful finger snags and his scarf strained over his shoulders while he pulled. "Are you okay?" She mumbled, her throat raspy with sleep. Her voice seemed to startle him, causing him to turn slightly and whip his head around to face her. Eye's wide and shoulder's flexed. This in itself was strange, for Natsu, with his uncanny scenes, wasn't one to be caught off guard. He shook his head slightly, running his hands through his hair once more before taking a seat atop her desk.

"Mira and Elfman got back this morning." He mumbled, scuffing his sandal on the floor.

"Oh." His announcement turned her stomach, metaphorically mangling her insides and shrinking her ribcage until the air felt thin.

She nodded towards him slightly, pulling a pack from her bedside table. He practically ripped it from her hand, mumbling that it "Wasn't good for her." before lighting one for himself. He then kicked the edge of her dresser to his front, swearing loudly and moving to fidget with his hair again. Lucy let out a stifled exhale and curled in on herself, tucking her legs against her chest and wrapping them with her arms. Natsu never acted like this, like a child having a tantrum. This is the Natsu that frightened her the most, when he was careless and frantic. He was already impulsive on a good day, and it regularly got him in trouble. So this was only a time bomb in the making. Once his dark eye's met hers again they softened almost instantly. "I'm sorry, just kinda stressed out I think."

Lucy was careful in her approach, sliding across the bed to stand next to him. She slipped her arms under his, around his chest and pulled him close in a loose hug. She rested her chin on his shoulder and laced her fingers at the nape of his neck, twisting his pink locks around his finger. "Do they know yet?" She whispered, keeping up her ministrations when he stiffened significantly.

"No, they're in Gramp's office waiting on me now."

"Oh..." She spewed again. She pulled away from him slightly, resting her forehead on his for a moment. "Just let me get dressed, I'll come down with you."

She turned away from him in the direction of her closet, but he grabbed her wrist, holding her in place. "I don't know how to do this again." His words barely slipped out under his breath. A simply broken statement from a broken man.

It was true this wasn't the first time he had reported such awful news to the Strauss siblings. He had told Lucy once before that when he was younger, Lissana had begged him to take her out on a job. He asked Mira for her permission, but she evidently had said no, that she wasn't ready to go off on a job with a kid that always got into trouble and constantly snuck out on jobs that were far too high in ranking for his skill level. Natsu being the stubborn child he was though, stole a job request with a senior rank and took little Lissana along. As expected, the enemy was far superior and bested them quickly. Natsu lost Lissana in the commotion, and after days of desperate searching, he had to give in. Thankfully Laxus found her almost half a year later while travelling home.

"When they heard the news Elfman cried for days, I thought it would never end, it was awful." The dragon slayer shook his head again, finally offering her a hit of his cigarette with an apologetic look for his earlier reaction. "Mira though, I'll never forget it. It's like I could see her heart shatter through her eyes. I wanted her to yell and scream, to get mad or something, I felt so guilty but she didn't." He tossed Lucy a look filled with such pain and anguish, one that should never have melted over his structured face. "She just held me for hours, kept telling me it wasn't my fault and that everything would be okay, she even smiled at me. And for months after, she had these awful nightmares where she would cry out for Lissana, and god the sound, I swear I can still hear it sometimes."

"Natsu..." The blonde tried to console, "You were just a child, it was an accident." She tried to squeeze his hand in comfort but he pulled away, sliding from the edge of her desk to stretch freely in the of the small room.

"I'm not a child anymore Lucy. This is worse than back then. Laxus cant find her this time." He was done talking now, she could tell with the way he held his posture. Natsu wasn't one to open up and maul things over with another person. This being a rare occurrence for him, she didn't want to push him farther, in fear he would spin out in his own thoughts and make a rash decision. He was so complex, Lucy found she always struggled with trying to support him the way he deserved. He hated feeling pitied or coddled, the wrong response could push him to months of emotional silence. And she knew for a fact that this morning report was going to do just that.

The meeting went just as awful as Natsu had described. Elfman cried howls that rivalled hungry dogs, a shaking mess that contradicted his overly pressed masculinity while Laxus stood stoic behind him, a firm hand on his brother-in-law's shoulder. Mira acted just the same, a warm smile pressed to her lips while she gathered a broken Natsu in her arms. Whispering gentle words against his neck while she toyed with his wild hair. Lucy watched her partner deplete at her side, the lights dulling from his onyx orbs with every word that left Mira's subtle pout. This time though, the silver-haired woman couldn't wait for her nightmares to control her grief, and as soon as the grand oak doors closed her away from the office the cry that split the hall rattled Lucy's bones. A sound that knew no happiness and danced only with the dark.

Again, check here to read ahead and find bonus content :) ↓↓↓↓

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13289933/1/Silence-and-Cigarette-Smoke

#natsu #natsu dragneel #lucy #lucy heartfilia #fairy tail #fairy tail fanfiction #Nalu #nalu fanfic #nalu fanfiction #fan fiction #slow burn

11 notes · View notes

mor-beck-more-problems · 3 years

Text

Hit Or Miss || Morgan & Bex

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @inbextween & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Morgan tries to get to know Bex over a game of Battleship. Explosions may or may not ensue.

CONTAINS: brief references to transphobia

There were a few things that death couldn’t take away from Morgan: love, the view of a January day, and board games. She had never been much of a fan as a kid, they were bulky, hard to pack in a hurry, and as soon as you lost a couple pieces, all that mess became worthless. But at Karen’s house a lifetime ago, the novelty special editions of Monopoly and Life and the varnished wood sets of checkers and parcheesi had seemed like treasures from another world; one where the ground was steady beneath your feet and it never occurred to you that the nice things you loved would fall apart. Today, she ran her fingers over a battered edition of Battleship: Classic (was there a Battleship: passé somewhere?) and brought it down to the table by the window she was bogarting at Board to Death, grinning affectionately at the scuffed pegs and stained ships hiding under the lid. It was the only coffee shop in town that anything to offer besides food she couldn’t taste. Her triple espresso had a soothing bitter taste, but all the icing in the world on the danishes or dipped vegan scones couldn’t bring back her old sense of taste.

She sipped the just-below-boiling mixture and watched the living world shuffle by in their puffy coats and bright scarves. When she saw a nervous looking girl approach the window she smiled, nodding in case it was her. When she entered the cafe, Morgan held out her hand. “Hey, you’re Bex, right?”

The strangest part about being back in White Crest was that it felt so nice. There was something about this place that felt enough like home that Bex almost didn’t altogether mind her overbearing parents controlling her every move. Almost. They’d delighted in the fact that she was being scouted by a professor already, and she’d opted to not mention the part where said professor was gay and also recommended by someone who thought they were a witch. For some reason, Bex trusted Nell’s judgement, and Professor Beck seemed really nice. And, well, Bex couldn’t help but leap at the idea of meeting a real life queer person. Especially a woman. Who was out! And open! Even if she couldn’t really ask her about it today. The concept was novel. And so Bex really wanted this meeting to be good.

Therefore, she kept an excited demeanor about herself as she made her way to Board to Death, trying to push the anxiety away. Put on a smile when she opened the door, and glanced around for Professor Beck, seeing her through the window. She scooted herself over, taking her hand. “Hey! Hi, yes! That’s me! I’m Bex! That makes you Professor Beck, then! Unless you’re not, which would make this very awkward,” she chuckled, then stopped, clearing her throat. “S-sorry. Um, hi, thanks for meeting with me!” Glanced down to look at her refreshments on the table, then back up. “I never really knew Board to Death had food! I’ve only been here a few times. Do you come here a lot?”

“I am Professor Beck, yes, but you can just call me Morgan. Pretty much everyone does.” Morgan took another sip of her espresso and gestured for the girl to sit. It wasn’t every day she could tell someone she’d spoken with online just from their demeanor, but Bex was nearly vibrating out of her skin with anxiety. It was an excited kind of anxious, like her face might hurt from smiling so much, but it still gave Morgan some pause. This was a girl who had wrecked a whole computer lab with just the force of her emotions. Even if she couldn’t accept magic yet, some kind emotional release would probably be good for her. “I don’t come here much, no. Coffee tastes pretty much the same to me anywhere, and at least here it comes with something fun to do. You’ve played Battleship before, right? It’s only one of a couple of two player games I’m familiar with that doesn’t make you think too much.” Grinning at her, Morgan lifted the top from the game and started assembling her board.

“Oh, um--” Bex started, feeling that anxiousness already bubbling in her throat again, “-- I’ll try, but no promises. My parents sort of drilled it into me that it’s ‘Mister’ and ‘Misses’, or ‘Doctor’ and ‘Professor’ only!” Her face scrunched, as if she were trying to be angry and she lifted a finger to waggle. A poor imitation of her father. “You are a child, Odelia, and you will address your elders properly!” Not realizing she’d let slip her real name, she looked back across the table at Professor Be-- er, Morgan. “Oh, yeah, I’m much more of a tea person, myself. Coffee makes me jittery and anxious and I think I’m plenty of that all on my own, you know?” She watched as Morgan began assembling the game, not saying too much. Her father had made her play old strategy games like Risk and Chess for hours on end as a child, but Battleship had never seemed to reach their table. “Um, once, at school. You just kinda guess coordinates, right?”

Morgan couldn’t hide the arch in her brow as Bex gave a different name as she impersonated her parents. Did they not address her the way she asked to be? Did she keep the name she gave out to acquaintances as a secret? Still, she snorted kindly and finished setting up her board. “It’s good that you know yourself at least. I’m not sure if the world is ready for a caffeinated Bex just yet.” She finished setting up her board and started on her ships, keeping them mostly spread out from each other. “And yeah, it’s just a fun guessing game! If you know your opponent well, you can try and guess their methodology, but it’s, you know--” She held up the box lid, “Ages 6 and up.” With everything set aside on her end, she could lean back and relax. “So, I do hope you’ll take one of my seminars. My syllabus is way more fun than the other professors’, not to knock my colleagues, because they’re amazing, but I hand out movies and, occasionally, video games too. We look at what speculative and fantastical stories tell us about humanity, how we see ourselves and each other and why changes in those perceptions matter. And, you know, with all the writing homework, you’ll probably get a leg up on your fellow pre-law students. Anyone can have an idea or a feeling, but it takes work to give voice to it. But, that’s my one and only pitch. I’d much rather get to know you. Sometimes strangers can be easier to open up to than others.”

“Oh, it’s definitely not,” Bex agreed with a chuckle. She watched Morgan set up her side-- without peeking, of course!-- before working to set her own side up. She didn’t entirely know the best strategy for Battleship, but she decided she wanted to go for an out there one, sticking all of her ships right in a square in the middle of the map. “Well, I’m definitely six and up, so, I think we’re all good. Who goes first?” She looked across the table to Morgan as she continued to fuss with her pieces, wondering which formation was better, listening to her description of her course. “It sounds like a great class,” she said when the older woman was done speaking, but there was something vibrating inside of her. Something about the description, something about how free and open the course sounded, made her realize something else was going on here. Bex might have been closed off and insecure, but she was observant as well. It was one of the qualities that made her an actual decent law student. Her gaze dropped to her board and she pulled her hands away. “I’m ready to start, then,” she said, lifting her eyes just enough to gaze over the top of the board, the double meaning of her sentence not lost on either of them.

Morgan watched Bex thoughtfully, from the tightness in her shoulders to the shrill chirp of her voice. She was trying, eagerly, desperately, but for what? Morgan wanted to tell her to relax, there were no quizzes or grades handed out at the end of this meet-up. But having been that anxious herself more than once, she knew drawing attention directly didn’t always have the desired effect. “A-10?” She called. “Why don’t you tell me about why you like it here? I thought I saw you mention something about ‘coming back’ on main and I gotta say, I haven’t heard of too many people returning after they’d left. Well, not often by choice anyway.”

“Miss,” Bex said quietly, sticking a peg into A-10. “E-6?” she tried, waiting for the response. She chewed on her lip at the question, thinking a moment. It wasn’t that she really liked it here, but White Crest was home and she knew she had a place here. And even if she hadn’t gone to school here, or grown up with the other kids, or become a regular at all the diners-- she still felt like she fit in here. More so than at Penn State, where the kids looked at her with those eyes, and whispered behind their hands, and posted her private life online. “It just...feels like home, I guess. I went to private school as a kid, so it’s not like I really have any sort of connection to the town, but I just feel right here,” she explained softly, neither smiling nor frowning. She stuck a peg into the missed slot. “I came back because I had to.” Where she really wanted to be was far away from the East coast, maybe in Oregon or Washington or California. Somewhere she could start over brand new and be whoever she wanted to be. She cleared her throat. “How um-- how long have you been in White Crest?”

“Miss,” Morgan called. She let a round pass unremarked, taking in as much as she could. She was just bundled up so tight, it was no wonder she’d exploded in front of Nell. That much repression might do the same even to someone without magic. “Private school, huh? Like boarding school? I didn’t realize those were still a thing in this country.” She made another call, D-6, and took another sip of espresso. “I’ve been here for a year now. I’m starting to see how somebody could feel like they belonged here, even with all the terribleness. It’s not an easy fit, but I don’t think I could leave on a dime, not by myself anyway. But what--is it okay if I ask what made you have to come back? Or if not, maybe tell me about someplace else you dream of being. Those are good ideas to hold onto. The future, I mean.”

“Yep,” Bex said dismissively, “I went to a private boarding school. And they definitely still exist here.” And they suck, she wanted to add, but held her tongue. Uniforms and strict schedules and forced rules. Secrets and hush money and skirting around the fact that Bex was not born a girl. “My parents paid good money for it, it was a Jewish Orthodox school, a really good one, too,” she went on, swallowing down the hard feelings. They didn’t matter anymore. “The town certainly has a charm to it, doesn’t it?” She stuck a peg right between two of her ships as a miss. “Miss. Um...H-7?” She looked up again, contemplating which question she wanted to answer. They both would give away too much, and she was bad at lying. “There was an incident at my old school,” she finally said, the waver in her voice coming through, “my parents thought it best I come back home.”

“It’s okay, Bex,” Morgan said softly. “I want to know you, but you don’t have to talk about anything you don’t really want to. But I am sorry about whatever happened to you over there. It doesn’t seem like something easy.” She tilted her head, trying to meet the girl’s eyes. There was something there, something awful. Bullies, maybe? Did kids chase Bex and lock her in storage cabinets and call her names like they had Morgan? Or was there some kind of accident with her magic? “What do you want, Bex? However important your parents are to your life, however close you might be, your life is still yours. Your future should look like what you hope for. Why don’t you tell me more about that, huh? Or how the law firm fits into that idea.” Another sip of espresso. “Miss, by the way.” She scanned her grid and made a guess toward the middle. “F-6?”

Bexley swallowed hard, trying to make the worble that was building in her throat go away. “It’s okay, it’s kind of public information, anyway,” she stated matter of factly, moving away from the topic enough to not feel too overwhelmed, and thankful for Morgan’s offer. But the next question felt even harder, and Bex could feel the anxiety building in her stomach again. Her hand shook as she went to plug in the peg next to her ship, one hole away and she had to grip it with her other to make it stop. “I want to make my parents proud,” she stated, as if reading from a script, “I’m the sole heir to our business and fortune. That’s all there is to it. M-my future. That’s all I want. To be the perfect daughter for them.” And stop messing up. Since she couldn’t be their son. Since she couldn’t be the best. “Miss,” she said and her voice cracked. “F-5?”

“Miss,” Morgan replied. “And you don’t have to be perfect. No one is perfect. Perfect in terms of being flawless and incapable of improvement isn’t even a real thing. And your parents--” Morgan frowned. She had a lot of fairy tales about what parents should be like, but the more people she met, the more she wondered where she had cooked that one up. “The best way to love someone is to enable them to be the most themselves. The best, freest version of themself. And asking yourself those questions is the best way to find yourself loved better. I don’t know what your situation is, Bex, but you shouldn’t live to be an object in someone else’s story. You’re more than that. What is it that really excites you? What do you hope for?” Morgan waited, peering at this small glimpse of Bex’s pain with growing concern. Then, suddenly remembering that she had yet to call a move, she distractedly mumbled something a few spaces out from her last one. “E-5?”

Bex didn’t like this anymore. Morgan was saying things she already knew, but she also already knew that they were things she couldn’t have, so what was the point in thinking about them? In talking about them? She didn’t even bother putting a peg in this time. This was supposed to be a fun, easy meeting, not a deep dive into her extremely painful situation. “Please stop,” was all she said, hands folded tightly into her lap, “just...please?” Fingers began to pick at nail beds, still red and raw from every other time she’d done it. “All I hope for right now is to make it through each day without messing up or embarrassing someone,” she admitted quietly, but her voice was stern, an anger stewing inside of her that she rarely let to the surface, “And I just hope that I can make it through the week without some shit happening. And I hope that one day I’ll be able to look back on all this and put it behind me, but that’s not feasible right now so I really need to just not think about it and keep trying my best for my parents because they’re all I have.” And she owed them everything. Shakily, she lifted the peg and placed it on one of her ships. “Hit.” A loud whistle behind the cafe counter signaled steaming water and Bex startled. She let out a long sigh. “A-2.”

“I’m sorry,” Morgan said quickly. “I don’t mean to-- I am being sincere in what I am saying and whatever me or my life looks like to you or anyone else peeking on main apparently, it’s-- I do know what it’s like to feel like your life isn’t yours and what you want doesn’t matter and keeping your head down and being small and left alone is the best you’re gonna get. I am deeply, intimately familiar with that feeling. I can only imagine what kind of suffering you’ve been through, but you were meant for more than that, and I’m sorry. I’ll stop, okay? Do you--” Morgan stopped as another kettle trilled, glowing with sudden heat. She made a note of the hit, but didn’t put the red peg on the board. Flustered and desperate to recover the afternoon, she pawed her pockets for her phone. “I have cats. Three of them. Do you want to see pictures of the cats? Or ask me something? This isn’t an interview. If there’s something you want to know you can--” The phone clattered onto the table. Deirdre and Anya’s faces bloomed on the lock screen. “You can do whatever you want, Bex, you don’t even have to stay.”

Everything Morgan was saying just made Bex tense up more and more. Kettle’s started shouting, left and right, even the baristas were beginning to panic, running around and removing them, but finding them still screaming, louder and louder, despite the lack of heat. A crack formed in the window next to Bex as she screwed her eyes shut and clenched her entire body. She didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for her or tell her how much they understood or tell her how sad it was-- she wanted to pretend like how she was living was okay and fine and that one day she’d make it through and suddenly everything would feel okay. And just be okay. She unclenched and the whistles seemed to die down. Looked at the phone that had fallen to the table and saw the happy woman on it, smiling and beautiful. And the cat, so peaceful looking. Tears welled in her eyes. “I have to go,” she said suddenly, standing up. The chair scooted back and toppled over. People turned around to look at them. Her heart seemed to leap into her throat and the mug on the table shattered. “I’m sorry! I have to--” took a step back and all the teapots wailed again. Bex looked around frantically. “It-- It was nice to meet you, Professor Beck, but I--” she didn’t get to finish her sentence as one of the pistons on the espresso machine shot off and shattered a nearby tower of cups. Bex turned and ran before anyone had a chance to ask her anything.

“Bex, wait! You need to--!” Whatever half-assed plea Morgan was working on fizzled out under the crash of falling furniture and screaming machinery. Someone’s baby started wailing, the window buckled like it had been gut-punched, and the steam whirred louder. Morgan grabbed her coat and bag and phone. She wasn’t sure what was going to happen to downtown with Bex like this, if she could talk her down or if following would only make things worse. Shit, probably worse, right? But by the time she stumbled out the door, the girl was long gone and all Morgan had left were more questions. At least she would be able to tell Nell one thing for certain: Bexley was not okay, and under her nerves lay a sadness too deep for her to contain, especially in White Crest.

#hit or miss #wr bex #wr chatzy #wr bex chatzy #wickedswriting

9 notes · View notes