#Scattered Cicadas

[dogt-eeth]

Bunny Tang, based off of Scattered Cicadas by @inkweaver22-blr (done from memory so it might not be 100% accurate to the book description)

[Image ID: Mr. Tang from Lego Monkie Kid as a rabbit demon. He's dark brown, with tan around his eyes, the inside of his ears, and his chin. He has long black fur, reflective of how his hair looks as a human. End ID.]

#scattered cicadas #art posting #lmk #lego monkie kid #tang lego monkie kid #tang lmk #rabbit demon tang #demon tang

[inkweaver22-blr]

Merry Christmas, everyone! I’m sorry this chapter took so long. But here it finally is!

This is the first chapter where a cycle from the previous chapter gets continued. And since the last one was set in an AU made by @animemoonprincess, this one is as well! I’m sure you’ll be able to figure out which one it is pretty quickly!

Get cozy, as this chapter is feature length at 24 Thousand words! Drink water, take breaks, eat a snack! But above all else, please enjoy it and let me know what you think once you’re finished! (Also this chapter is split in two due to Tumblr not allowing more than 1,000 blocks of text per post. If you want to read the whole thing uninterrupted, click the AO3 Link below.)

AO3 Link

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Scattered Cicadas - Chapter Twenty One: Shining With Joy (Part 1)

The changes in Tang’s life never seem to stop. Luckily there are moments that shine bright enough to make them worth it.

----------

Tang took a deep breath of the crisp, early Autumn air. It had been the middle of Summer when he had first awoken in this cycle. Having so much time pass without his notice while dealing with his memory problems was both surprising and somewhat disorienting. Not only had he awoken at what would have normally been the end of a cycle, but it had progressed well past that point. The gift from his timeline’s Sandy was certainly working as intended, and Tang was extremely grateful.

Grinning as the leaves crunched underneath his boots, Tang moved with a bounce in his step. Autumn was one of the best seasons. The bright colors of the changing leaves. The refreshing chill in the air. The delicious seasonal foods. It was the perfect time of year to find a cozy spot to read both indoors and out. 

“Here’s a good spot,” Wukong said, pulling Tang from his musing. He sat under the tree he had picked and gestured for Tang to join him.

Tang looked around as he joined Wukong on the ground. It was a nice location. Trees surrounded the pair as leaves occasionally fell around them. They were just outside the clearing the ship had landed in, but still well within the perimeter of the protective wards that hid them from Lady Bone Demon’s forces.

Her behavior this cycle was very different from what Tang was used to. From what little news they were able to get from Megapolis, not much had changed despite the city being under her control. No oppression, no cruelty, no violence. Other than declaring herself ruler, most of her focus seemed to be turned outside the city by trying to capture their little group.

He supposed this was another effect of Sandy’s gift, enforcing peaceful cycles every now and then. Well that suited Tang just fine. He wasn’t quite ready to face her at her normal level of depravity so close after being freed from her.

Tang shivered at the thought of facing her at all.

“Tang? Are you still with me?”

“Huh? Oh, yes, sorry about that.” Tang shook his head to clear his thoughts. “I was lost in thought for a moment. Nothing to worry about.”

“Right,” Wukong said skeptically. “We can do this another time if you aren’t feeling up to it.”

“No, I’m fine, really.” Tang sighed as Wukong raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “I was just thinking about how different She is this time around. It’s… strange is all, but I don’t want to think about that right now. I’d much rather get to work on this.”

“Alright, alright.” Wukong sat up straight. “So. The 72 Transformations. It’s a bit of a misnomer as it can let you transform into literally anything you can imagine, but we won’t get into that.

“Learning how to do it normally takes years of study and practice, myself as an exception. Properly getting this technique down usually means that any of the practitioner's transformations are already permanent. However, you and MK inherited this power from me, so it works a bit differently for you. While you can still transform into whatever you want, I’m sure you noticed that it takes focus to maintain the form you’re in and a decent blow can knock you from it.”

“Sort of?” Tang scratched at the fur on his face. “I've been in my monkey form for a few months now and don’t feel like I’m focusing much on it. But when I flew away from the ship as a cicada I clipped a branch and that did startle me back into my monkey form.”

“Hmm… That’s strange. I can tell you that your form currently isn’t permanent as I can see your human self underneath it with my Gold Vision,” Wukong said as he rubbed his chin. “A hard enough shock, you running out of energy, or being knocked unconscious could probably revert you right now.”

Tang’s breath caught.

“W-what?”

“Hey, don’t panic! You aren’t going to revert any time soon. I mean, you don’t feel low on energy right now, right?”

“Well…” Tang took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. “No more than usual I guess.”

“Wait,” Wukong tilted his head. “Are you usually tired?”

“Just a little bit,” Tang admitted. “I assumed it was just stress from dealing with remembering everything.”

“That probably isn’t helping, but I think it might be something else.” Wukong activated his Gold Vision and examined Tang closely. “Yeah, you’re definitely channeling your powers to maintain that form.”

“But I’m not focusing on it,” Tang protested. “Plus, wouldn’t I revert whenever I sleep? Pigsy hasn’t mentioned me changing in the middle of the night.”

“It’s possible that you’re doing it subconsciously then,” Wukong said as he deactivated his Gold Vision. “It’s probably a trauma response and your mind is just trying to keep you safe by maintaining this form for you.”

“That… makes sense.” Tang blinked and raised an eyebrow at Wukong. “You’ve been reading Sandy’s mental health books?”

“Maybe?” Wukong grinned nervously. “But anyway! Back to the transformations! So while you’re not likely to revert to your human form due to your mind subconsciously supplying the transformation with your powers, it’s not sustainable in the long term. You’ve already noticed that you’re tired all the time. The longer you maintain this form, the more energy it will require. We’ve been lucky so far but we don’t want you passing out from over exertion.”

“So I need to learn how to make my transformations permanent so it doesn’t continuously draw on my powers.”

“Exactly!”

“You said it takes years of study and practice to learn. My timeline’s Sandy may have extended the cycles but I don’t think we have that long.”

“To learn the full technique, yes,” Wukong said with a smirk. “But you don’t need the full 72 Transformations. You only need to learn a single form. Luckily for us, Teacher taught me the shortcut he would use for his students that didn’t feel like they should be human.”

“Huh.” Tang blinked. “There were people who didn't feel like they should be human even that long ago?”

“Yup! I think the modern term is Species Dysphoria, but back then we just referred to it as a soul being born in the wrong body.” Wukong looked up at the falling leaves with a fond smile. “Teacher may have been a strict and harsh taskmaster, but he did care about his students. Of course he said he only helped because he couldn’t have students who were distracted by such frivolous things as appearances. But he always did help with the change instead of dismissing them.”

“Reminds me of one of my college professors.” Tang said with a chuckle. He hummed in thought. “Species Dysphoria… I’m not quite sure that’s what I’m experiencing.”

“Well the main symptom is a displeasure or discomfort with your body, specifically your species, which fits you. It doesn’t have to be from birth either. Some cases have been brought on later in life by traumatic experiences, apparently.”

“Okay, you have to have been reading about this with Sandy.”

“Big guy likes to read out loud when researching,” Wukong said with an embarrassed shrug. “Kinda hard to not absorb some of the stuff when relaxing with his therapy cats.”

“Well at least you’re finally taking your own mental health seriously,” Tang drawled.

“Let’s get back on track,” Wukong said, shifting in discomfort. “Learning a single form for a permanent transformation is still a pretty involved process despite it not taking as long. We will have to memorize a lot about the anatomy of both your base human body and that of your chosen form.”

“We?”

“Yes, we. Before you attempt the transformation yourself I will occasionally be guiding your magic through the process for transforming individual body parts. This to get you accustomed to the flow of the magic as it’s much slower and precise than the usual instant form shifting. It will also let you test out how certain parts feel so you can make changes before you try the final transformation. I’ll need to know what I’m doing before we can do that, though.”

“I’m assuming that guiding my transformation won’t make it permanent, otherwise you would have already helped me do it,” Tang said.

“Right. Something about how you subconsciously resist changes that you didn’t make yourself. The transformation would eventually revert over time if I did it for you.”

“If I’m understanding this all correctly, I’ll need to know the anatomy of my chosen form as well as know how it feels to change my body into that form in a precise way in order to make it permanent?”

“Pretty much.”

“How are we going to be studying the anatomy part?” Tang folded his arms in thought. “I don’t think Sandy has a book on rabbit demons in his self help library.”

“Did you know MK has a membership at The Cloud?” Wukong pulled out a couple of computer tablets. “Apparently, that makes his phone something called a ‘hotspot’ that allows any device he authenticates to access it. He helped me download a bunch of books onto these earlier. They even have audio versions!”

“Well that’s convenient,” Tang said as he accepted one of the tablets. “I suppose we should get started then.”

“That’s the plan,” Wukong said, plugging in some earbuds into the audio port of his tablet.

“Tang! Monkey King!”

“Or not,” Wukong sighed at Mei’s shout.

“We’re over here, Mei,” Tang called back.

“Something weird is happening to MK!” Mei’s voice sounded somewhat panicked. “Come quick!”

The pair shared a worried glance before rushing back towards the clearing. They followed Mei to the other side of the airship where they found some of the others.

MK was examining his hands, waving them around as he looked at them. Red Son was likewise scrutinizing MK, circling him and occasionally prodding at him. Pigsy was nearby, tapping his foot in agitation; a sure sign he was nervous about something.

It took a moment for Tang to remember that Sandy was inside the ship working on some component or another and that Macaque was on patrol looking out for any of the search parties hunting them.

“MK! Are you okay? What’s going on?” Tang looked over the young man. Outside of some leaves in his hair he seemed perfectly fine.

“I think so? I don’t feel strange,” MK said, slapping Red Son’s hand away as the demon poked at his shoulder.

“What happened,” Wukong asked.

“Well, Mei and I were throwing leaves at each other when Red Son snuck up and shoved some down the back of Mei’s jacket.” MK smiled. “It was really funny the way she squealed and-” MK snickered.

As he did, he began to faintly glow with a yellow-orange light.

“And then that happened,” Pigsy finished, gesturing at the young man as MK tried to get his mirth under control. “Except much brighter.”

“Is that all? I thought this would be something serious,” Wukong said as the tension eased from him. “Don’t worry, nothing’s wrong with him.”

“Then what’s happening to me?”

“Congrats, bud! Your powers are finally starting to recharge!”

“Really?! Yes!” MK let out a whoop and jumped up and down in celebration, his glow increasing in intensity as he laughed.

“Awesome! But what does his powers recharging have to do with the glowing,” Mei asked.

“The glowing technically is one of his powers,” Wukong explained. “Every time he laughs he’ll glow like this. I’m honestly surprised it took this long for it to show up.”

“So… Is this permanent or just a side effect of his powers returning,” Red Son asked.

“Permanent. It’s unfortunately not something he’ll be able to turn off. It’s just going to happen from now on. It’ll even happen when he’s under the effect of a glamor.”

“Well as long as it’s not hurting him it should be fine,” Tang said. He blinked as something occurred to him. “Wait, does that mean you glow when you laugh, Wukong?”

The Monkey King froze.

“Uh…”

“No way.” Tang felt a grin creeping up on his face. “You do, don’t you?”

“I- Uh- Well-”

“But Monkey King’s laughed in front of us before,” MK said. “Or at least, he’s laughed in front of me and he’s never glowed. If I can’t turn it off that means neither can you, right?”

“That’s… Yes that’s right.”

“Then what gives?” Pigsy was eyeing Wukong with suspicion. “You just said glamors won’t hide it so why haven’t we seen you glowing?”

“Well… It has to be real, genuine laughter or joy that sets it off…” Wukong chuckled nervously, noticeably not glowing as he did.

“But that means…” Tang frowned in concern. “Wukong? Have you been suppressing your emotions just so you would avoid glowing in front of us?”

Monkey King just shuffled in place as an awkward silence fell.

“What’s all the commotion about,” Macaque asked suddenly as he joined the group by stepping out of a nearby shadow.

“Oh look! Macaque’s back from his patrol! I guess someone should replace him! I volunteer! See you later!”

“Oh no you don’t!” Tang grabbed Wukong by the back of his shirt before he could slip away. “We need to talk about-” 

Wukong quickly twisted and ducked down before he could finish, shrugging the shirt off and darting towards the treeline.

“Macaque glows when he laughs but hides it too!” With that last shout over his shoulder he escaped into the trees.

“What?!” Macaque stepped back as all eyes turned to him. "Traitorous bastard,” he growled before sinking into the shadows cast by the airship and vanishing.

“So… Now what?” MK looked a bit lost as he glanced between the spots the two monkeys had disappeared into.

“We get those two to laugh as much as possible, is what,” Mei said with a devious determination. “I need to get me some videos of them glowing like nightlights!”

“While I don’t really approve of your motivation, you’re probably right,” Tang said with a sigh as he folded up Wukong’s abandoned shirt. “What they’re doing is not healthy. We should get Sandy to talk to them about it as well.”

“Do we even know what they will laugh at,” Red Son asked.

“We’ll just have to try a bunch of different things,” MK said, perking back up at the idea.

“So long as you don’t make any messes, especially in the kitchen,” Pigsy huffed. “I ain’t the best at telling jokes so don’t come to me for ideas.”

“All right!” Mei pumped her fist in the air in excitement. “Let’s get some brainstorming done for Operation: Giggle Glow!”

“Giggle Glow?”

“What? They giggle, they glow! Watch.” Mei poked MK in the side where he was ticklish. True to her word he giggled and started to glow.

“Fair enough,” Tang said with his own snicker as MK poked her right back, initiating a tickle fight. “I'll help out after I let Sandy know what’s going on.”

Tang hummed to himself as he made his way back onto the ship. It was nice to have something to keep busy with. Between studying rabbit demon anatomy and attempting to get two old monkeys to laugh, the next few weeks were not going to be boring.

He paused and chuckled at a humorous thought. Yes, the next few weeks were certainly going to be enlightening.

----------

“I know you said we would be trying out various transformations by having you guide them but… I wasn’t expecting it to happen so soon,” Tang said, fidgeting with his sleeves and doing his best not to tremble. If the concerned looks from Wukong and Pigsy were any indication, he wasn’t doing a very good job.

Barely two weeks had passed since they had started studying rabbit demon anatomy. Tang felt he had made some decent progress in his own research. His scholarly background was certainly a boon as much of the reading was rather dry. And if he decided to speed things along by applying a few retention and memorization spells he learned back during that disastrous training cycle? Well, no one but him had to know.

Wukong, however, was proving that his title as the Intelligent Stone Monkey wasn’t just for show. Even with a speed reading charm, the Monkey King surpassed Tang’s learning pace by a wide margin. By the end of the first week he had half of the chosen books memorized. He was attempting the transformation on himself halfway through the second. Yesterday he perfected it, which led them to now.

“It would’ve been sooner if I wasn’t constantly distracted by MK and Mei trying to get me to laugh,” Wukong half joked.

“Really?” Tang’s eyes widened at that.

Operation: Giggle Glow had gone into full swing a few days following the revelation in the clearing. After a talk with Sandy, both monkeys had reluctantly agreed to try and not hold back their laughter just because they found the glowing to be embarrassing. MK and Mei had taken full advantage of this. Jokes, slapstick, harmless yet humorous pranks, and various other attempts at comedy were thrown around with mixed success.

Tang had already found Wukong’s ability to learn at such a fast pace incredible. But if a few jokes a day were considered to be a distraction that prevented him from finishing sooner… 

“I knew you could learn impossibly fast, and I’ve seen you do it before a few times,” Tang admitted with an awed shake of his head. “Every time it’s both impressive and somewhat intimidating. I’m not going to have to worry about my role as scholarly nerd being taken, am I?”

“As if,” Wukong snorted. “Learning for learning’s sake isn’t my thing. I only put this much effort into stuff I find interesting, if the fate of the world is at stake, or as a favor for a friend.”

“I… I appreciate all of this,” Tang said, lowering his head in a small bow. “I really do.”

“Don’t sweat it.”

“It couldn’t have been fun with how tedious some of these books are.”

“That’s medical texts for you,” Wukong said with a shrug. “Can’t really add too much prose to wade through if someone’s life might be on the line.”

“Focus, you two,” Pigsy chided. “Tang, are you sure you want to go through with this? We can hold off until you’re ready.”

“I-” Tang swallowed and clenched his paws to keep them from shaking. “Do… Do I really have to revert to my… My other form to do this?”

“I’m afraid so,” Wukong said gently. “Layering a transformation on top of another can get… messy. The safest and easiest way to do this is if you’re in your hum- er- base form.”

“Okay.” Tang took a deep breath. In and out. “Okay.” Another breath. He could do this.

“Tang?” Pigsy reached out, taking a hold of one of his paws and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s alright if you want to wait for a bit.”

“No. No it’s… I want to do this. I just…” Tang took another breath before meeting Wukong’s eyes. “It… It’ll only be for a few minutes, right?”

“Five minutes, at most.”

“And… And we’re starting with my head today? So I won’t see Her in my reflections?”

“That’s the plan.”

“I won’t need to keep my eyes open for this, will I?”

“Nope.”

“Okay.” Tang breathed deeply once more before checking over his clothes. He had to make sure the gloves and boots were secured. It would only be his head that was transformed today after all. As long as he couldn’t see any other part of himself that would remain human, he could ignore it. At least, he hoped he could.

“Alright. Okay. I’m ready,” he said, doing his best to ignore his hammering heart. “Should I stand or sit?”

“Whichever is more comfortable for you,” Wukong said.

“How about we sit,” Pigsy suggested, grunting a bit as he lowered himself to the floor.

Tang nodded stiffly and moved to sit down across from him. This was it. While he was looking forward to completing this first step towards a full transformation, the thought of reverting from his monkey form was terrifying. Damn, the trembling had started again.

“Hey, you’re okay,” Pigsy said as he reached over and grabbed Tang’s paws and held them in his hands. “I’m here. Monkey King is here. We’re not going to let anything bad happen to you, promise.”

“O-okay.” Tang tensed a little as he felt Wukong kneel behind him and place his paws on his shoulders. He took a shuddering breath. “S-sorry. Just… Just give me a second.”

“Take your time.” Wukong said, patting him on the shoulder. “We’re in no rush.”

“Right.” In and out. Deep breaths. He could do this. “On… On three?”

“If that will help.”

“Okay.” He looked up at Pigsy and squeezed his hands. “Count down for me?”

“Alright.” Pigsy took his own breath and straightened up. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

“One…”

Tang took one final fortifying gulp of air.

“Two…”

He clenched his eyes shut and gripped Pigsy’s hands like a lifeline.

“Three.”

Tang reached into his well of powers. He had transformed dozens of times before. He had taken to the ability rather quickly back during the cycle when he was the Monkie Kid. It should be easy to just… revert.

His mind screamed at him as he focused.

What are you doing?! You’re safe like this! Stop! She can’t get to you right now! Stop Stop STOP!

It was hard to push past such visceral fear, but Tang grit his teeth and pulled at the thread keeping him in his monkey form.

It would be worth it! Please let this work! He could have a new base form of his own! One that She hasn’t tainted! Please Please PLEASE!

He felt the surge of energy flow through him. And then…

A draft on his bare face. His clothes rubbing against his skin instead of fur. The lack of a comforting weight at the end of his spine.

It worked!

Oh. 

Oh God, it worked.

“Good job,” Pigsy praised softly as Tang’s breath hitched. “You’re doing great. Take a breath. That’s it. Keep your eyes closed.” 

“I’m going to start now, okay,” Wukong said once Tang got his breathing under control.

“Pl-please hurry.”

“Try to relax.” Wukong moved his paws from Tang’s shoulders to cup his face from behind. “Let me guide your magic. I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

“O-okay.”

Tang could feel Wukong’s magic mixing with his as the Monkey King coaxed it to follow his will. Wukong gently pulled his paws up and over Tang’s ears, behind his nape, up and over his crown, down over his face, under his jaw, and back to his starting position. He repeated the motions several times, Tang’s magic following along like a current.

He could feel the transformation start to take effect after a minute or so. It was much different than his usual way of doing it. Instead of an instant surge, the magic flowed slowly and steadily. Thankfully, this didn’t make the change painful. It was… tingly. Almost like the sensation of that rock candy that fizzled and popped in your mouth. Which was not how he thought having his skull elongated to allow for a proper rabbit snout was going to feel.

Wukong’s soft, repetitive touches were soothing as more changes occurred. His teeth and jaw began to itch as they rearranged themselves alongside his skull. The sound of all their breathing seemed to become clearer as what felt like two loose flaps of skin grew down on either side of his head. Those must be his new ears then. Tang wrinkled his nose as a strange new sensation sprouted out around it. Whiskers, if he had to guess.

Tang let out a sigh of relief as he felt the fur start to grow in. He hadn’t realized how uncomfortable he would be with a naked face. Luckily the thick clothing he was wearing seemed to be doing their job as well. The fact they hid bare skin instead of fur was hardly noticeable anymore. He finally began to relax.

Wukong’s paws began to slow moments later. The gentle circulation of magic stilled with them. Tang felt Wukong’s magic carefully detach itself from his own as the sage removed his paws and took a step back.

“Done. Four minutes and thirty seven seconds, exactly.”

Tang took a deep breath in through his nose, marveling a bit at how different it felt. The amount of new scents he could pick up on was not unsurprising based on what he read, but still a slight shock. Luckily it wasn’t completely overwhelming at the moment. He’d have to be careful the next time dinner was being prepared or whenever they next visited a city, but he felt confident he could adjust to his heightened sense of smell rather quickly.

He opened his eyes. His vision wasn’t too different from his monkey form. Perhaps it was a bit better. Tang couldn’t really tell just yet. It was still an improvement from his base form’s poor sight at least. It was still incredible to be able to see so clearly without his glasses. His snout was very prominent, however. He wondered if his mind would eventually block it out like humans did with their own short noses.

Tang focused to look past his snout and frowned at what he was seeing in front of him. Pigsy was looking at him with a somewhat shaken expression.

“Is everything okay, Pigsy?” He reached up to feel his face. He could talk just fine, but the new mouth shape was somewhat odd.

“Yeah, I just…” Pigsy shuddered a bit. “Ugh. Perhaps I should have closed my eyes as well.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, this method of transformation isn’t exactly pleasant to watch with how slow it is,” Wukong said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “Probably should have given you a warning.”

“Now he tells me,” Pigsy grumbled.

“Oh.” Tang winced as a memory from his time as Her prisoner popped up unbidden. “Ugh, yeah, I get that.”

“Tang?”

“Just… just a bad memory. I’ll be fine.” Tang took a breath to reset his thoughts. He twisted around so he could see both Pigsy and Wukong at the same time. “So, how do I look?”

 “Oh. My. God,” Wukong gasped, his eyes wide as he clutched his paws to his cheeks.

“What?” Tang’s stomach flipped. Had something gone wrong?

“You’re adorable!” Wukong’ tail formed a heart shape behind him as he squealed. “I knew I looked cute when I transformed, but that was a given. You’re just so… so…! Eee!” Wukong began stepping in place as words failed him and his excitement grew. 

“Ah.” Tang could feel the skin under his fur begin to heat up. “That’s- uh- good to know? I honestly thought something was wrong at first.”

“Sorry, sorry! I just… really like small, cuddly animals,” Wukong said, doing his best to calm himself.

“I… I’m not sure how I feel about being called ‘small and cuddly’,” Tang said with a slight frown. 

“Right! Sorry!” Wukong shook his head, but tentatively reached his paw out. “I’ll stop but… Can I ruffle your fur real quick first?”

“Uh…”

“Okay, that’s enough!” Pigsy slapped Wukong’s paw out the air. “You’ve already felt him up enough as it is, what with you caressing his face earlier! Don’t think I didn’t notice that!”

“What?” Wukong blinked in what looked like genuine confusion.

“Don’t play dumb! You said you and the other furball were going to work out whatever is going on between you two first, and yet here you are making some moves!”

“Uh, guys,” Tang began to interject, but was quickly spoken over.

“Firstly, what’s going on between Macaque and I is none of your business. Secondly, what  in the world are you talking about?”

“You were flirting with Tang just now!” Pigsy seemed ready to blow steam from his ears. “Calling him cute and cuddly and trying to pet him even though it was making him uncomfortable!”

“Guys,” Tang tried again.

“That was not flirting!” Wukong was scowling now as well. “I just think rabbits are really cute! I’ll admit to getting a bit over excited, but I wasn’t trying to flirt!”

“Oh, sure! Do you go up to every rabbit demon you meet and tell them how adorable they are to their faces? I bet treating them like an animal instead of a person goes over well.”

“Guys!”

Tang’s shout startled them out of their arguing. He took a deep breath and clenched his fists as they turned to look at him.

“You… You both are supposed to be making sure this whole process remains as stress free as possible,” he gritted out, resisting the urge to start yelling as well. “I’m relying on you two to help me through this. You… You promised you wouldn’t fight.”

They began trying to defend themselves, raising their voices to be heard over the other. Tang made a frustrated scream and abruptly pushed past them. He turned to glare at them from the doorway to his bathroom.

“Excuse me. I need a moment to myself.”

As much as he wanted to, he did not slam the door shut. The very audible click as he locked it was satisfying however.

Tang leaned back against the door, sliding down it to sit on the floor. He buried his face in his arms and did his best to keep his breathing under control. He loved his family dearly, but dammit all they made him want to rip his fur out sometimes!

He winced as he heard them shout at each other through the door. Clasping his hands over his ears, Tang did his best to drown out their voices.

Pigsy and Wukong fighting wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. Even in cycles where they were friendly with each other they bickered over the smallest things. The fact they were fighting about him wasn’t even something new to Tang. Both could be rather possessive and prone to jealousy. Pigsy being the jealous one this time was just another normal variable that he had come to expect from the cycles.

Tang tightened his grasp on his ears as he felt tears well up in his eyes.

This wasn’t a surprise. He shouldn’t be this upset. This had happened hundreds, if not thousands, of times before. Tang was technically the oldest and most responsible between the three of them. He should have mediated and made them talk through this misunderstanding like he usually did.

And yet…

Tang did his best to keep his sobs quiet.

He had thought by sharing his story with his family that it would help. For the most part, it had. Everyone had been fairly accommodating to him. So was it selfish to have hoped they would continue to hold back for him? That they would put his need for their support above their seemingly instinctual need to argue?

Maybe it was. After all, from their point of view, it had been like the Tang they knew had changed overnight. Transforming into an emotional, needy wreck with impossible knowledge and some rather presumptuous notions on his relationship with them all. They were probably just as stressed and anxious as he was. Of course they would be fighting. He had managed to screw everything up just by existing.

Tang sniffed and removed his hands from his ears to wipe his nose. Pigsy’s and Wukong’s voices were muffled now. So they had stopped shouting. That was good, he supposed. He wasn’t needed to help mediate then. Which made sense. It was his fault they had been fighting in the first place. His presence wouldn’t have helped. He was completely useless.

That… that wasn’t really being fair to himself.

Tang blinked at that thought. It sounded like something Sandy would say.

What would Sandy say about all this?

Tang closed his eyes and attempted to calm his breathing as he tried to imagine what his large blue friend would think about this.

He would probably tell Tang that he wasn’t being selfish. That he had only just recently escaped from a pretty traumatic situation. That it was normal to rely heavily on others while he recovered. That it was okay to be upset with them when they didn’t take his feelings into consideration.

But… but he also couldn’t expect them to always put him first. They were people too, with their own emotions and needs. That repressing those negative feelings was just as bad as repressing the positive ones. How that didn’t mean they should take it out on each other. That fighting wasn’t a healthy outlet. How it wasn’t his fault if they did fight and how it wasn’t his job to stop them.

Tang’s breathing evened out. It likely wasn’t the exact advice Sandy would give, but it was close enough to help clear his thoughts. He was still upset. But now that he had calmed down a bit he could start to think more rationally. There were things he would need to discuss with Pigsy and Wukong and he wouldn’t be able to communicate them properly if let just his emotions guide his words.

Tang listened for a moment but could no longer hear the others’ voices through the door. Either they were silently waiting for him or had left to cool down. That was fine by him. He could use the time to plan out what he wanted to say.

Before he could do that however, he probably should clean up a bit. Tang wrinkled his nose at the sensation of his tears drying and matting his fur. It seemed the fur on his face was ever so slightly longer and thicker as a rabbit as opposed to a monkey. Just something he would have to adjust to.

Tang picked himself up off the floor and stood at the sink in preparation to wash his face. He glanced up into the mirror reflexively and froze. His reflection stared back at him, wearing the expression of surprise he was feeling. Knowing that he had been partially transformed into a rabbit was one thing. Seeing it for himself for the first time was… Well. It almost didn’t feel real. 

The dark, chocolate brown rabbit in the mirror was certainly real enough to mimic his movements as he examined himself. His snout was narrower than his dragon form, but still just as expressive. He ran a hand through the fur on the top of his head, which was long enough to resemble his usual hairstyle in his base form. Tang gently lifted one of his drooping ears, the proper term was lop if he remembered correctly, to get a look at the inner side. The fur on this side, while incredibly thin, was just as dark as the rest.

Tang frowned a bit at how… uniform he looked. He did like the chocolate brown, but perhaps he could add a secondary color to break things up?

Deciding to worry about that later, he let his ear fall back into place before opening his mouth to examine his teeth. The increased size of his front incisors was expected. The extra set of canines replacing a set of his premolars was not. He pulled at his cheek to get a better look. They seemed… rather sharp. Well, he was a rabbit demon, at least partially. Demons, despite being omnivores, did tend to have a preference for meat. It seemed biting was now a viable form of self defense for him if it came down to it.

Closing his mouth, Tang took his whole reflection in and smiled. It wasn’t quite exactly what he was expecting. There were a few things he might decide to change. But he could see himself, and only himself in it. The color of his eyes. The style of his head fur. Even his expressions were things that he could still recognize from his base form, but were completely untouched by Her influence.

Humming to himself, he turned on the faucet and began scrubbing his face clean. It felt a bit awkward with the gloves. He looked forward to when Wukong would help him transform his hands. Although he wasn’t sure how he would react if he wasn’t able to hold onto Pigsy’s hands for support.

He paused for a moment as he dried his face with a towel. Oh right. Wukong and Pigsy. He still needed to deal with them. Hopefully they had managed to talk through their issues and he didn’t need to go looking for them to get them to communicate.

Tang sighed as he turned and leaned back against the sink. He closed his eyes as he thought. Even if they had apologized to each other, there were things Tang needed to talk to them about. He wasn’t completely blameless for why the argument happened in the first place. He would have to clarify a few things between them all if these transformation sessions were to continue.

He stood there for several minutes, going over how he wanted to word what he wanted to say. A soft knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts.

“Tang?” Pigsy’s voice sounded uncertain. “Can… Can we talk?”

Tang took a step towards the door.

“Is Wukong with you?” he called out. He didn’t want to have to repeat himself more than once if he had to.

“Yes, he is. There’s some things we’d like to say.”

Tang took a deep breath. Looks like his time to rehearse was up. Hopefully he’d be able to say what he wanted in a way that was understandable.

“Okay.”

Tang unlocked the door and stepped back into his bedroom. Pigsy and Wukong were standing there with contrite expressions. They shared a glance before Wukong took a step forward.

“I’m sorry for how I acted earlier,” he began, looking Tang in the eye and remaining serious. “Treating you like a cute animal was demeaning and inappropriate. You’re a fully aware person and should be treated as such. I promise I won’t let myself get carried away like that again.

“I also apologize for not warning either of you over how… intimate the process of helping you transform would appear. I promise you there wasn't any alternative meaning behind it. It’s simply how it’s done.”

“I’m sorry I blew up at you about that,” Pigsy said as he stepped forward. “I didn’t know I could get so jealous or possessive like that. I know you didn’t mean anything by it.

“I’m sorry for starting a fight even though I promised you I wouldn’t, Tang. I was supposed to help with your stress, not add to it. I’ll do my best to keep my temper in check. But I… I’ll understand if you don’t want me to come to these sessions anymore.”

Tang let out a breath. He was glad they had managed to work through their grievances for the most part. Now it was his turn.

“I appreciate and accept your apologies. However, I need to apologize as well.” Tang held up a hand to stop Pigsy and Wukong as they began to protest. “Please, just listen.

“I’m… I’m extremely grateful for you, for all of you, for being so accommodating. You’ve been nothing but kind and supportive as I recover from my… ordeal. I honestly don’t know if I’d be managing as well if you weren’t all here.

“But I’m worried that you may be repressing some of your own feelings while trying to be mindful of mine.”

“Huh?” Pigsy frowned in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Pigsy, I’m going to need you to be completely honest with me.” Tang took a deep breath as Pigsy agreed hesitantly. “Pigsy, did you agree to the idea of Wukong and Macaque potentially entering into a relationship with us in the future because you were actually okay with it, or because you thought it was something I wanted and didn’t want to upset me?”

“I-” Pigsy’s eyes went wide and he floundered for a moment. “I don’t- I mean I- I can get used to the idea-”

“That’s not what I asked.” Tang shook his head. This was what he had been afraid of. “I… I can’t be okay with anyone trying to help me by doing things that will make them unhappy. It’s not good for either of us and will only lead to more pain in the end.

“So I’ll ask once more. Pigsy, are you okay with us possibly entering into a relationship with Wukong and Macaque in the future, yes or no?”

“I-” Pigsy swallowed. He clenched his fists and turned away. “No. No, I'm not okay with the idea.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Pigsy looked back up in shock.

“Okay,” Tang nodded. “I’m not going to make you do something you aren’t comfortable with. You are my partner right now, so if you say you don’t want to have others join in, we won’t.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. I may ask for your reasoning later in private, but your wants are just as important as mine. I refuse to make you feel obligated to do something you don’t want just for my sake, and I’m sorry if you felt like you had to.”

“Oh. That’s…” Pigsy’s shoulders slumped as an unseen tension bled out of him. “That’s a bit of a relief actually.”

“Honestly? Same here,” Wukong said. “I’m fine with the idea, but Macaque isn’t. It’s, uh, one of the main things we’re still fighting about. Having the pressure taken off of us is going to be a big help while we figure things out. Although I should probably take your example and let him know what he wants is important too.”

“I’m sorry,” Tang sighed. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like you all had to join into a relationship together.”

“It’s not your fault. I’m sorry I wasn’t honest about how I was feeling,” Pigsy said, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. “Could have probably avoided this whole argument if I spoke up earlier.”

“Well, we live and we learn, right?” Wukong said. “Now that we’ve cleared all this up we’ll be able to be more careful about it going forward.”

“Right,” Tang agreed with a nod. He staggered a bit and grabbed onto the door frame of the bathroom as he felt a slight wave of dizziness. “Whoa.”

“Tang?” Pigsy quickly moved over to help steady his partner. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Just dizzy for a moment.”

“Oh right!” Wukong turned and picked up a serving tray that Tang had failed to notice. “I almost forgot! Even though I was the one guiding the process, it was your magic and energy fueling the transformation. You’re going to need to replenish yourself, so Pigsy and I went to get you some snacks after we talked things through.”

Wukong carefully placed the tray on the ground and motioned for the two to join him on the floor. Once they had situated themselves, he removed the cover of the tray.

“Help yourselves,” Wukong said as he snatched a bag of marshmallows and popped them open. 

Tang looked over the selection of snacks and blinked in surprise. 

“Chocolate wafers and orange juice?”

“Well, they’re your favorite,” Pigsy said as he grabbed an apple for himself. “I picked some up at the last city we visited. I, uh, was going to save them as a surprise but thought you would need some cheering up after the argument.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” Tang said. He leaned over and tried to give Pigsy a kiss on the cheek, but he wasn’t quite used to the shape of his snout. So he settled on a quick nuzzle instead before turning back to the prepared food.

“Be careful,” Wukong warned in between marshmallows. “A rabbit’s sense of taste is way stronger than what you’re used to.”

Tang nodded and dipped one of the wafers into the orange juice. Once it had absorbed enough to be slightly soft, he took a bite. Tang’s eyes widened and he started to cough at the explosion of flavor. He swallowed quickly to avoid spraying food everywhere and continued to cough into his arm.

“Tang!”

“I warned him.”

“I’m fine,” Tang gasped as his eyes watered. “Damn, I wasn't prepared. That was… incredible.”

He quickly dipped another wafer into his drink and took another bite, much to the disbelief of his companions. The flavors were still extremely strong, but he was ready this time. He moaned a bit as subtle tones he hadn’t been able to pick up on before danced across his tongue. It was like heaven in his mouth. If this was just what a simple snack could taste like, he couldn’t wait to try Pigsy’s cooking like this.

“Figures he’d adjust quickly when there’s food involved,” Pigsy snorted. He paused just before he took a bite of his apple and frowned. “Wait… isn’t chocolate bad for rabbits?”

“For normal rabbits, yes,” Wukong answered. “Some rabbit demons do have to follow the same dietary restrictions as their animal counterparts, but that’s less than four percent of them. As we’re the ones in control of how Tang transforms, we also control whether he has to adhere to it or not.”

“Obviously, we decided to not go with the restricted diet,” Tang said as he swallowed another wafer. “There’s too much good food out there for me to give up on it all.”

He glanced at Pigsy who had laughed and returned to his apple. Well… almost all foods. There was one he wouldn’t be touching for the rest of his existence.

Tang shook his head to clear his thoughts and avoid thinking about that.

“Ack!”

Tang’s lop ears had been sent flopping around as he shook his head and were currently resting across his snout and eyes, blocking his vision. He didn’t need to see to hear Wukong’s snickers. He reached up to untangle his ears, only for one of them to droop into the glass of orange juice he was still holding, getting it soaked

There was a stunned silence for a moment before Tang, quickly followed by Wukong and Pigsy, started to laugh at the absurdity of it all. The stress from earlier had completely melted away. And if being a bit clumsy with his new ears was all that was needed to get Wukong shining gold with mirth, well Tang could live with that for now.

----------

Tang sighed as he rubbed his left ear in an attempt to quell the ticklish sensation in his ear canal. The past few days had been somewhat tiring. Each morning Wukong would guide his magic through transforming his head into a rabbit’s and each evening he would guide it back. It was taking a bit of a toll on Tang if he was to be honest. Perhaps they should take a break for a few days.

He frowned and began to rub a bit harder. The tickling wouldn’t go away. It started just after breakfast. He had ignored it at first, more preoccupied with how warm he had been feeling. He had thought it was just him not being used to the thickness of his new fur. But going out to stand in the fresh air on deck hadn’t helped much, especially once it started raining shortly afterwards.

Tang scowled as the sensation changed from ticklish to itchy. There was a building pressure that he had barely noticed but realized he had been feeling all day. That certainly wasn’t helping with his headache.

He shoved his hand under his ear in an attempt to reach directly into the ear canal and scratch the itch. Before he could wiggle a finger too far down someone grabbed his wrist and pulled it away.

“Tang!” Pigsy scolded. “Don’t do that! You can hurt yourself by shoving things in your ear.”

“But it itches,” Tang whined. He pulled his hand free and went back to furiously rubbing over the top of his ear in vain.

“Tang, are you alright?” Sandy asked.

“I…” Tang looked around the living room as he thought about it. Everyone was staring at him with expressions of curiosity or concern. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?” Pigsy reached out and gently pulled his hand away from his ear again.

“My inner ear itches. There’s a pressure building up there and I have a headache. I thought I was just overheating earlier but I might also have a fever?”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Wukong said as he made his way over. “Lift your ear for a second and I’ll take a look inside.”

Tang did as instructed, squirming a bit as he resisted the urge to stick a finger down it again. Wukong leaned down closely and activated his Gold Vision.

“Damn,” he said with a scowl after a minute of inspection. “Ear infection.”

“How did that happen?” MK wondered in concern.

“Rabbits with lop ears have a harder time cleaning them out and thus are more prone to infection,” Wukong explained as he straightened up. “Though it might have been the orange juice…”

“Orange juice?”

“Not important. The problem is that we don’t have the medicine to treat it on the ship right now. We’re nowhere near a town or city to buy some, but until we do get it treated I won’t be able to transform him back. Internal injuries and transformations don’t mix well unless you’ve mastered the full technique.”

“Isn’t he going to revert back after a while anyway?” Red Son reminded them all. “That means we’re on a time limit.”

“We could try transferring him some magic and hope it holds until we find a town,” Macaque suggested.

“I might have something that we can use,” Tang said, getting their attention. “I’ll need a bowl though.”

Once a bowl had been obtained, Tang held his hands out over it. He took a breath and focused. His hands began to glow with a golden-yellow light. As he continued to channel his magic, the light seemed to thicken. Before long it began to drip from his hands, coalescing in the bowl as a shining liquid.

“There,” Tang sighed, stopping the flow once the bowl was half full and leaning back into his seat.

“What is it?” Mei asked.

“An all-purpose general healing elixir,” Tang answered with a yawn. “It won’t automatically cure anything, but it acts as a disinfectant, antibiotic, stomach soother, and fever reducer. A few drops of this every few hours and my ear should be better in a day or two.” He yawned again. “Learned how to make it back when I was obsessively training to keep you all safe. Takes a lot out of you though.”

“We just said that reverting back would be bad for you,” Wukong said with a scowl. “Please don’t expend your energy like that again or it will happen before we get you healed up.”

“Sorry.” Tang shook his head to try and chase the tiredness away, but scowled as his ears went flopping over his face again. “Stupid ears. I’m starting to think they’re more trouble than they’re worth.”

“I thought you liked them?” Sandy said as he prepared a dropper for the elixir.

“I like how they look,” Tang clarified. “But they get in the way whenever I shake my head or lean over something. I’ve also noticed that while I can hear things in front of or behind me a lot better, things directly to my side are actually muffled. Now there’s the possibility of them getting infected more often than not.

“I… I think I’m probably going to switch them to the erect style.”

“You sure?” Pigsy asked, taking Tang’s hand and squeezing it in reassurance. “I know you were pretty excited about them being this way.”

“That was before I knew how much a hassle they were,” Tang sighed, wincing as the itchiness in his ear grew. “I’d rather not have to deal with them getting infected again if I don’t have to.”

“Well, it’s your choice.”

“Right. Wukong?”

“Yeah?” The Monkey King blinked. “Wait, you mean right now?”

“If you think it won’t use up too much of my energy,” Tang said. “I can wait if you think it will, but I would prefer to get it done as soon as possible.”

“Well… It shouldn’t,” Wukong admitted reluctantly. “It’s only a few small muscles that will need to be adjusted. Since it’s all external it won’t mess with your infection. If you're sure, I can do it, but only if you promise to do nothing but rest for the remainder of the day.”

“I can certainly do that,” Tang agreed with a yawn. “Might even take a nap out here once you’re through.”

“Ooh! Living room sleepover!” MK jumped up in excitement. “I’ll go get blankets and pillows!”

“I’ll make some soothing tea,” Sandy said enthusiastically.

“I’ll find some relaxing tunes!” Mei began typing away at her phone.

“I’ll wait here, like a sane person,” Red Son huffed.

“Might as well transform my ears now while we wait,” Tang said with a smile.

The transformation didn’t take long. Tang marveled at how he could now move his ears around freely. The muffled noises were no longer a problem and he could hear everything around him with a sharp clarity.

As MK set up the bedding, Pigsy helped apply the elixir with the dropper. Tang shivered a bit at the sensation of liquid flowing into his ear, but sighed in relief as the itching finally faded.

“Ooh, here's a good playlist,” Mei said. “Chill LO-FI Beats to Relax and Recover From an Ear Infection To!”

“Of course,” Red Son groaned with a roll of his eyes.

Tang snickered as Mei began streaming the genuinely relaxing music to the sound system. He leaned against Pigsy’s shoulder and pulled one of the blankets up around them. The others all made themselves comfortable in various ways as well.

Tang hummed to himself in satisfaction. The gentle music. The rain pattering against the windows. MK’s soft snickers and glowing as Mei showed him funny things on her phone. The smell of Sandy’s tea. It all combined into a wonderfully warm and cozy atmosphere. Before long he drifted into a peaceful sleep.

----------

Tang focused as he did his best to mold the clay into the shape he was imagining with his paws. It had taken two full week's rest after recovering from his ear infection before Wukong had been comfortable enough to start the transformations again. Once he was, Tang had picked for his hands to be next so he could get rid of the confining gloves.

It was taking some time to adjust to his paws. The fingers were shorter for one, with only two segments instead of three. The same was true for his thumbs having only a single segment, but were still fully opposable. Instead he had a set of claws growing out of each of his digits. They were decently sharp, as Tang had discovered after nearly drawing blood by scratching his face. He’d have to be a bit more careful and relearn the proper pressure to apply.

He had paw pads now as well. They certainly made gripping things easier than if they were completely covered in fur. His fingers were wider than he was used to to accommodate the pads. It was a bit frustrating for Tang for the first few days. He kept misjudging when he went to grab things. Being used to the normal length of his fingers, he would snag objects by his claws and send them falling to the ground.

After being banished from the kitchen for breaking a third glass, Tang dragged out the giant basin of clay he still had. He couldn’t break the material no matter how clumsy he was and set about messing with it to get a feel for how his new fingers moved. He grew bored of his stuffy room after the first hour and relocated to the living room where the light was better.

He was rather pleased with his progress so far. Three of the simplified zodiac animals he had decided to make were finished and he was near completion on the fourth. They weren’t his best work as he wasn’t using his earth shaping, but he could live with that. Tang was happy to discover that his new claws were very handy when it came to some of the more intricate details.

Tang’s ears twitched and rotated back as he heard hurried footsteps from down the hall. He looked up in time to see Macaque dash in followed closely by MK and Mei who were holding… feather dusters?

“Stay away from me!” Macaque was rather breathless as he jumped over the couch and landed opposite of the coffee table Tang was working at.

“You’re trapped now!” Mei declared victoriously. “Prepare for a tickling of your lifetime!”

“Stay back!” Macaque reached down into Tang’s basin and scooped up a glob of clay. “I’m armed!”

“Hey!” Tang’s protest was ignored as Macaque threw the clay at the approaching menaces.

“Eep!”

MK and Mei managed to duck down in time. The clay went flying and-

SPLAT!

-hit Wukong, who had appeared in the doorway, square in the face.

There was a stunned silence for a moment as they all froze. Wukong slowly wiped the clay from his face and just stared at it with a stupefied expression.

“Pfft… Bwahahahaha!” Macaque began to cackle. He glowed a bright purple while his six ears glowed blue, pink, and green.

WHAP!

Macaque’s laughter cut off as he was struck by the clay. Wukong smirked from where he had thrown it and laughed at Macaque’s look of shock. The black furred monkey growled as he reached once more into Tang’s basin.

“Uh oh…” MK said.

Soon clay was flying all over the living room. Tang quickly cast a dome of protection over his figurines to save them from the line of fire. It wasn’t a moment too soon as a wad of clay hit him in the back of the head. He turned and glared at a guilty looking Mei.

“I was aiming for Macaque!”

“Oh, I bet you were.” Tang raised his hands and they began to glow golden-yellow. Three spheres of clay rose from the basin and began orbiting him as he smirked. “Doesn’t mean I can’t get my revenge!”

“That’s cheating!”

Tang responded to her objection with a clay ball to the face.

Cries of success, shouts of surprise, and peals of laughter filled the air as the clay was flung back and forth. It quickly turned in everyone against Tang as he used his earth shaping to gain the upper hand. He stood in the middle of the room, dodging or catching the projectiles as they came at him. He did his best to redirect the clay towards their hiding spots, but mostly hit the furniture they were taking shelter behind.

By the time the basin was empty, both the combatants and the room were caked with clay. As the laughter faded and the adrenaline died down from the lack of ammunition, the realization of what they had done slowly crept in.

“Oooh, Sandy’s gonna kill us,” Mei bemoaned as she tried to scrape some clay off the wall.

“At least it looks like we didn’t break anything,” Macaque said and he uprighted a fallen chair.

“No, but I’m not sure this is going to come out,” MK sighed as he held up a stained couch cushion.

“Don’t worry, I can fix this,” Tang reassured.

“You can?”

“Trust me. Just try to stand somewhere there’s not a lot of clay and hold your arms out.”

“If you say so,” Wukong said with a shrug.

Once they had all found a spot to stand, Tang closed his eyes and focused. He began to use his earth shaping to sense the room around him. Lifting his hands, he began to turn slowly in place. He gently pulled any clay he could feel from the surface it was stuck to and collected it in the center of the room. After a few minutes he opened his eyes and lowered the giant ball of clay back into the basin.

“That was awesome!” MK looked around the room in awe. “You got almost all of it! The rest shouldn’t take too long to clean up now.”

“I’m surprised you even managed to get it off our clothes,” Mei said, examining her jacket.

“Wish the same could be said about our fur,” Macaque grumbled as he pulled out a tiny piece of clay.

“I could probably get it out if you let me run my paws through your fur,” Tang suggested.

“Please.”

Macaque sat on the ground in front of Tang while the others began cleaning up the few remaining bits he had missed. He reactivated his earth shaping and gently ran his paws through his fur. Being mindful of his claws, he carefully combed the fur with his fingers, allowing whatever clay he found to stick to his paws.

“Hmmm… You’re pretty good at this.” Macaque had relaxed into Tang’s touch as he worked. A soft purr began to emanate from him as he closed his eyes.

“Alright, I think I got it all,” Tang said a few minutes later. He blinked in surprise as Macaque’s purrs trailed off into gentle snores.

“Did you just put him to sleep?” MK asked slack jawed.

“I… I guess I did.” He looked up as he absently flicked the collected clay into the basin. “Do you want to go next, Wukong?”

“Sure,” Wukong said. “Don’t think you’ll catch me falling asleep like a newborn though.”

Unfortunately for the Monkey King, Tang’s ministrations were apparently extremely relaxing and he too succumbed to slumber.

“This is great,” Mei whispered as she snapped pictures of the two monkeys leaning against each other as they slept.

“Did either of you two want me to get the clay out of your hair as well?”

“And get put to sleep by your chloroform hands? No way!” Mei put her phone away and made to leave. “I’ll just take a shower, thank you very much.”

“Suit yourself,” Tang shrugged. He dismissed the protective dome around the coffee table and picked up the figurine he had been working on.

“Uh…”

Tang looked up and found MK standing there. He was shuffling from side to side and didn’t seem to know where to put his hands.

“Yes, MK?”

“I… I wouldn’t mind you getting the clay out of my hair.”

“Oh.” Tang smiled as he put the figure back down. “Well then come over here and we’ll get started.”

Some hours later, Tang dimmed the lights of the living room as he left so it wouldn’t disturb its three sleeping occupants. On the coffee table rested a full set of the twelve zodiac animals.

----------

Tang examined himself in the mirror and frowned. It only took one week this time for Wukong to agree to move on from transforming just his hands. Now his entire torso was transformed. Outside of being covered in the same chocolate brown fur, he didn’t feel much different. Wukong mentioned something about a flexible spine and sturdier arms for running. Tang hadn’t made it that far in his own studies to really understand what he meant.

He probably should have asked some clarifying questions. However, with more of his body being transformed at once came the price of having to spend more energy to do so. Tang had needed some food and a nap right after they had finished. He had only woken up a few minutes ago in fact. This was his first chance to see how he looked.

Tang didn’t consider himself exceedingly vain. Yet as he looked at how uniform his fur was in his reflection, he couldn’t help but feel a bit dissatisfied. Being the same color all over felt… Bland. Boring. Maybe even unimpressive. Not that he wanted to stand out in a crowd like a flashing neon sign. He just wanted something to break up his silhouette.

Luckily he had time to figure out what he wanted. He could even experiment a bit with a spell that changed the color of one’s hair. It should work just as well on fur and since it was completely cosmetic it wouldn’t mess with his transformation.

First he would need to figure out what pattern his secondary coat color would be. Using a bright neon green to mark it out, he began to play around with some options.

Just his chest? A good start but not enough.

Chest and abdomen? Better. Perhaps it could extend past his waist once fully transformed.

Ears? Unlike the lop ears his erect ears didn’t have fur on the inner side and had exposed pink skin. They were rimmed with fur however. Something to think about.

Arms? Hmm… Maybe just the undersides?

Tang sighed as more and more options seemed to come to mind. This was trickier than he thought. He should probably pick a color first before he decides on a pattern anyway. That way he would know if where he was deciding to change his fur would look good with it. The bright neon green wasn’t really helping.

Sticking with just changing his chest and abdomen for now, Tang started to cycle through various colors.

Red? Very striking. But also very noticeable. It looked a bit too much like he was bleeding all over.

Yellow? It matched the brown very well. But he was honestly sick of the color. That was a no.

Cream? Nope nope nope nope nope nope! That had been way too close to white for his tastes. That was one color he hoped his fur never became.

Tan? Better than cream at least. But it was still somewhat bland.

Pink? Probably a softer shade than that. Yes, that was nice. It reminded him of Neapolitan ice cream though.

Purple? It didn’t look bad. It just didn’t grab him that much either.

“Tang?” Pigsy called as he knocked on the bathroom door.

“Come in,” Tang answered absently. What if it was lavender instead?

“It’s almost time for lunch,” Pigsy said as he opened the door. He blinked as he watched the fur on Tang’s front change from lavender to deep violet. “Uh, what’s up with your fur?”

“Hmm? Oh, sorry.” Tang canceled the color changing spell, reverting to chocolate brown. “I just think being a single color all over is a bit boring,” he said with a sigh. “I was testing to see what secondary color I might want to try.”

“Not having much luck?”

“Not yet.”

“Well I ain’t good at this kind of stuff,” Pigsy admitted. “I’m not artsy like MK.”

“That’s alright,” Tang reassured his partner as he stretched. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Why don’t you look at some actual rabbit breeds?” Pigsy suggested as he stepped aside to let Tang exit the bathroom. “Maybe you’ll get inspired.”

“Not a bad idea, actually,” Tang said as he pulled on a shirt. “But that can wait until after lunch. I’m starving!”

“Ha! Never known a time when you weren’t!”

----------

Tang carefully walked around the clearing on his new legs. It had been a bit hard to convince Wukong to skip the plantigrade shaped feet and jump straight to digitigrade. He had tried convincing the scholar that it would take too long to adjust to them, but Tang had insisted. He had already given up on one of his preferred traits with the lop ears. He wanted to at least try before dismissing another.

The next month had been rather laborious. Standing was actually a little painful at the start as he wasn’t used to balancing all of his weight on just his toes. Walking was out of the question. He had spent most of the first week sitting in bed stretching and massaging his feet to get a feel for them. Luckily he had his studies on anatomy to keep him occupied.

Sandy, the wonderful friend that he was, had come through and constructed a water tank with a treadmill that was commonly used in physiotherapy. The first few sessions had been utterly exhausting. Wukong had nearly put his foot down and called the whole thing off after Tang almost passed out while still in the tank. He had managed to convince the Monkey King to let him keep going, but just barely. After a week and a half of consistent practice, and some rather liberal application of recovery spells, he was able to last a full three hours with no pain.

He began moving around the ship on his own after that. It was more difficult without the water to help hold his weight, but he managed to hobble around without needing too much assistance. He still grew tired if he stood too long, but that also improved over time. After another week he didn’t even need to hold onto the walls for support.

Tang breathed in the crisp air and smiled. It was unseasonably pleasant. Just slightly chilly instead of the usual cold at the start of late Fall. He was glad they had picked today to park the ship for maintenance as it would probably be the last nice day outside as Winter loomed closer.

“Hey, Tang!”

Tang looked up and waved as MK and Mei approached. He had to actually look down a bit as they came near, thanks to the slight increase in height provided by the shape of his feet. It was a bit strange being the second tallest after Sandy.

“Mei and I are going to race to see who can cross the clearing faster,” MK explained in breathless excitement once they reached the scholar. “Wanna join in?”

“I don’t know…” Tang hummed in thought as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I haven’t really tried anything faster than a power walk just yet.”

“It’s only about twenty meters,” Mei said. “A short sprint might be good for you.”

“Perhaps.” Tang stretched his legs. He had been feeling a bit restless just walking around. “Oh, alright. But we should get Wukong to watch just in case something goes wrong.”

“This is a bad idea,” Wukong grumbled later as he stood to the side of the three participants. “You haven’t even tried jogging yet. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“I’m going to have to try running eventually,” Tang said as he stepped in place. “Might as well get it out of the way now with you on hand in case something does go wrong.” He stretched his arms up over his head and glanced over at the sulking monkey with a raised eyebrow. “Or would you rather I have to figure it out in the middle of a dangerous situation?”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Come on!” MK was practically bursting with energy. “Let’s do this!”

“Alright, alright,” Wukong sighed. He raised an arm in preparation to signal the start of the race. “On your marks.”

The three of them all took their positions.

“Get set.”

Tang tensed.

“Go!”

Tang shot forward as Wukong swiped his arm down. He kept his whole focus on staying upright as he ran. He was moving quite fast, to his surprise. He had known rabbits were built for running, but feeling the wind racing past his ears was an exhilarating experience.

Something told him he could be going even faster. That he could outrun anything if he just crouched down and used all four limbs. Lost in the rush of adrenaline, he decided to do just that. With a short leap he tried straightening his back to be parallel with the ground and reached out in front of him with his arms. A moment of sharp clarity hit Tang just before his hands hit the dirt and two thoughts blared in his mind.

The first was the realization that his arms and torso weren’t transformed right now.

The second was that this was probably going to hurt a lot.

Tang barely heard Wukong’s shout of alarm as his arms gave out under him and he went tumbling across the ground. He rolled for a few feet before coming to a halt in an undignified heap. Groaning at the new bruises he felt, he straightened out to lie on his back. He stared up at the sky as he tried to get his breathing back under control.

For some reason, he found the situation amusing and giggled. Probably a side effect of the adrenaline still coursing through his system. He laughed a bit harder when Wukong’s unimpressed expression passed into his vision as the monkey leaned over him.

“Well you can’t be too hurt if you find eating shit like that to be funny,” he deadpanned. His brow creased a little in concern. “Unless you’re concussed.”

“I-I’m fine,” Tang snickered. “Just… just a little bruised.” He accepted Wukong’s outstretched paw and pulled himself up. “That was quite the rush!” He leaned slightly against Wukong, still feeling bubbly. “I’m definitely keeping my legs this way. I can’t wait to try that again with the full transformation!”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” Wukong groaned. “Let’s stick to light jogging for now until that happens.”

“Can do,” Tang agreed with a chuckle. He waved over to a concerned looking MK and Mei to let them know he was alright. He hadn’t seen who had finished first, but he felt that he had won something himself.

----------

Tang panted a bit as he snuggled into Pigsy’s embrace. He felt quite content at the moment and basked in his partner’s presence. He giggled a bit as he felt one of Pigsy’s hands sliding down and began gently playing with his fluffy tail.

“Enjoying yourself?” He teased.

“Mmhmm,” Pigsy hummed in agreement.

“Well, I’m glad you had fun helping me test out my last few bits.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?” Pigsy chuckled. “I’d be more than willing to help ‘test your bits’ anytime.”

“You… you didn’t find it weird?” Tang asked in a sudden wave of self-consciousness. “It’s not like what you’re used to…”

“Yeah, it was different. But it was still good.” Pigsy kissed Tang’s forehead in reassurance. “You were good. Don’t really care what it’s like as long as it’s with you.”

Tang smiled and nuzzled against Pigsy’s chest. They lay there for a bit, enjoying the closeness of the other.

“Wukong says I should be ready to try the full transformation myself soon,” Tang said softly.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Tang swallowed a bit, suddenly nervous. “He’s been quizzing me on my anatomy studies and says I should only need a few more weeks of review.”

“That’s great,” Pigsy praised as he pulled Tang into a tighter embrace. “You’ve been working so hard on this.”

“What if I mess up?”

“You won’t.”

“But what if?”

“Then Monkey King will help fix it and I’ll be there to support you.”

“But-”

“Shh. Don’t think about it too much. Just relax.”

Tang sighed as Pigsy began purring, unconsciously doing as instructed.

“Cheater.”

“Is it working?”

“You know it is.”

“Then that’s all that matters.”

Tang closed his eyes as he let the vibrations from his partner’s chest soothe him. He had always had a weakness for purring. He couldn’t wait until he could reciprocate with his own.

“Feeling better?” Pigsy whispered into his ear.

“Mmhmm.”

“Good.” His voice became a bit more playful. “Then how about we start test number two with those bits of yours?”

Tang responded with enthusiastic agreement.

----------

Tang took a deep breath as he stood alone in his room while in his monkey form. It was time.

The others weren’t very happy that he had insisted that he attempt the transformation by himself. Tang had reasoned that he needed to be sure he could do it alone, as he wouldn't have their support at the beginning of the next cycle. They had reluctantly agreed. As a precaution, they were all currently waiting just outside in the hall, ready to burst in at the first sound of Tang’s distress.

Tang shook his head and refocused. There wasn’t much point in putting it off any longer. Quickly disrobing, he sat in the center of the room and began to meditate.

He breathed slowly and evenly. He kept everything he had learned over the past few months at the forefront of his mind. He remembered the flowing sensation of his magic as Wukong had guided it. He recalled how each and every part of his body was supposed to feel from his experiences from the test transformations.

Once he was ready, he cut the magic keeping him in his monkey form and reverted to his base form. 

His human form. 

Shivering a bit at the draft against his suddenly bare body, Tang pressed down on the rising urge to panic and began to circulate his magic as Wukong had taught him. He warmed as it began to form a current through him. Keeping his eyes closed, he brought forth everything he had studied and felt over the past few months. He gently took hold of the swirling flow of magic within and pushed.

The sensation of having his whole body transform at the same time was very disorientating. The tingling all over was much stronger, almost to the point of distraction. Tang resisted the desire to grit his teeth as they were currently rearranging themselves in his jaw and willed himself to stay focused.

His skull elongated and whiskers grew from his snout. His ears lengthened and re-positioned themselves further up his head. His fingers lost a segment and grew claws. His spine grew slightly as a tail sprouted from its base. His feet creaked as the bones rearranged themselves so he would stand on his toes. All of this happened simultaneously and Tang struggled a bit to keep track of it all.

What felt like hours but could have only been minutes passed. Tang did his best to keep his breathing steady and nearly sighed in relief as he felt his fur start to grow in. He redoubled his concentration as he focused on the knowledge of how genes worked to determine the color and pattern of a rabbit’s coat.

The fur stopped growing. His bones stopped shifting. His skin stopped stretching. The tingling began to fade.

Tang kept the circulation of his magic up for a few moments more. Once he double and triple checked that there didn’t seem to be anything else left to shift, he let it go. Taking a steadying breath, Tang opened his eyes just as his magic settled.

He did his best to examine himself from his seated position. His paws and feet looked and felt right. It seemed he got the secondary color he had picked out correct. He could hear and smell things with the expected sharp clarity. His bits were all in order.

He shook his head at how ineffective it was to just stare down at himself. What he needed was to look at his entire body all at once. Tang picked himself up off the floor, breathing a sigh of relief as he was able to stand on his digitigrade feet just fine. He pulled out a strand of fur and blew on it, looking away from the bright flash as it transformed into a full length mirror.

Trembling, Tang stepped in front of the mirror.

He stared.

The rabbit demon in his reflection stared back.

Tang swallowed thickly as he examined the figure in the mirror.

He had managed his fur color correctly. While his face, paws, feet, and he assumed most of his back were the dark chocolate brown he liked, his front was a vibrant reddish brown that blended beautifully together with the darker color. It even rimmed his eyes and inner ears, providing a wonderful contrast.

His breath caught as he looked over the traits that he recognized from his human form. The style of his head fur. The color and shape of his eyes. His expressions. All of it combined together with the rabbit traits and the fur color to make…

Himself.

He slapped a paw over his mouth as his eyes watered.

Tang was looking at himself. That rabbit demon was him. And it was only him.

Overwhelming emotions rushed through him as he reached out and touched the mirror, the reflection that was him copying his movements perfectly.

Incredulity.

Relief.

Hope.

Peace.

Joy.

Euphoria.

Tang couldn’t hold back any longer and began to sob.

The door to his room burst open.

“Tang!” Pigsy rushed over and began looking him over, the others all close behind. “What happened? Are you hurt? Did something go wrong?”

“Pigsy!” Tang hiccuped as he grabbed his partner’s arm and pulled him in front of the mirror. “Look! It’s me!” He laughed through his tears as spread his arms out to fully present himself. “It’s me!”

“It’s… It worked?”

“It worked!” Tang threw his arms around Pigsy’s shoulders and laughed and cried in equal measure. “It worked! It’s me! It’s me! It’s me…”

“Well, uh, congrats and all that,” Wukong coughed, grabbing their attention while he stared up at the ceiling. The others were likewise averting their gazes. “We’ll all just, uh, wait outside for you two then.”

“Huh,” Pigsy blinked as they made a hasty retreat and closed the door behind them. “What was that about? You’d think they’d want to stick around and celebrate.”

“Pigsy,” Tang giggled, finding the whole thing hilarious. “Pigsy, they left because I’m naked.”

“You are?” Pigsy looked down. “Oh. You are.”

Tang couldn’t help it. He laughed. The euphoria of his transformation combined with the hilarity of his oblivious partner just filled him to the brim with joy. It felt like it could burst out of him at any moment.

He started to glow a bright golden-yellow.

“Tang, you’re glowing,” Pigsy said. “Literally.”

“Thanks, I didn’t notice,” Tang snorted. “Guess I- pfft- guess I caught the Giggle Glow. Let me just- hahaha- let me catch my breath.”

The glow dimmed as he got his mirth under control, but occasionally brightened as he continued to giggle.

“Okay. I’m okay. Let me clean up and get dressed then we’ll go celebrate with the others.”

“I mean, it sounded like they would be willing to wait a bit,” Pigsy said. He looked Tang up and down with an appreciative smile. “We could celebrate ourselves first.”

“Later,” Tang promised. “I want to show off my new self to everyone.”

“When you say show off…”

“Don’t worry,” Tang said with a smirk. “You’re the only one who’ll get to see the whole thing.” He shamelessly stretched his arms up over his head. “Once we’ve had our fill of the party, we can come back and I’ll share all of myself with you.”

“Sounds, uh, sounds good,” Pigsy swallowed as he stared at Tang’s form.

Tang snickered, glowing slightly as he moved over to the dresser to pull out some clothes.

Once dressed, he and Pigsy made their way to the living room where they were met with enthusiastic congratulations. The celebratory mood only grew once Wukong confirmed that he could no longer see Tang’s human form with his Gold Vision. The transformation was indeed permanent.

The revelation that Tang had somehow developed the Giggle Glow as well was met with some confusion. They had scratched their heads over it for a few minutes before they all shrugged and moved on with celebrating.

Tang could not remember a time when he felt so happy. Both before and during the cycles. A weight inside him had seemed to have been completely lifted.

He thoroughly enjoyed the party that lasted for most of the day. 

He enjoyed the after party with Pigsy even more.

----------

As Tumblr only allows for 1,000 blocks of text per post, this chapter has been split into two. The read the rest of this chapter and see my closing notes check out Part 2 Here or scroll back up to click Next. If you prefer a completely uninterrupted experience, click the AO3 Link above.

#Monkie Kid #LEGO Monkie Kid #Scattered Cicadas #Giggle Glow AU #animemoonprincess #Tang #Bunny Tang

[kiraisrika]

Eh just some lmk doodles + me

I have a tang brainrot oh god-

Also scattered cicadas (ao3) tang gives me yjh and homura vibes if the author makes him more... ruthless

Tumblr kills the quality in the parking lot

Also reblogs is appriciated

#kira arts ! #lmk #lego monkie kid #scattered cicadas #lmk tang #lmk nezha #lmk red son #also check out scattered cicadas on ao3 its very good :D

[bumbowumbo]

Maybe I think I’m better than everyone else because I think that Pigsy, Tang, Macaque, and Wukong should all marry each other

I think they’d get the happiness if they all loved eachother

#i may be insane #anyway i started thinking like this after reading Scattered Cicadas on AO3 #Monkie kid #YOU DONT UNDERSTAND RHEY DESERVE HAPPINESS #Freenoodles #suntang #inkypages #squidinknoodleshipping #shadowpeaches #mks dads #pigsy x wukong #lmk shipping

[roaringheat]

I need one of those desktop organizer with the drawers and shit just so I can store all the damn bugs I keep gettin. gonna have them shits organized

#vark posts #currently they are just scattered in multiple spots #some are in this one small box #and i have like 5 in an altoids tin #then theres like one or two scatted in a bunch of spots #its at least good deterrent to keep ppl out of my shit if nothing else #need more cicadas for that LOL #i also just have the biggest fuckin dragonfly ive ever seen in an empty disposable mask box #i need a god damn bug room at this point

[honeyed-hedonist]

Parings: Jason Todd x Reader Word Count: 2.2k Summary: You and Jason spend some quality time together on a balmy summer night amongst the flora and fauna. Things quickly heat up, as they so often do when the two of you are together. Warnings: SMUT--MINORS DNI. fingering, foul language, Jason being stupidly strong and handsome and hot and hshsaksjfkhf!! A/N: Hi hello! Since my old blog got deleted (I'm still not over it. Ten+ years of work and building up a following gone down the drain), I've decided to start reposting my old stuff here. This one used to be called Sweet Bitter, but I decided to change the name. ENJOY!

IF YOU LIKE THIS STORY, PLEASE REBLOG IT.

There’s something about the way the moonlight casts a silvery glow to your eyes, how it turns your dewy skin a pearlescent shade of indigo, that has Jason punch drunk, lips parted in silent awe while he watches you take in the scenery. You look ethereal, a goddess come down from heaven to fill the cracks in his soul with liquid gold until he’s overflowing—and fuck, he’s never been more in love with you than he is right now. 

The midnight air is ripe with honeyed blossoms and earthy moss, a symphony of buzzing cicadas fills the silence as a balmy breeze tousles a few loose strands of your hair around your face. It has him reaching out to tuck them behind your ear, pulling your focus from the lush greenery around you to his glittering blue eyes instead. 

Jason gives you a lazy grin, the kind that makes your stomach flutter, fingertips brushing the curve of your jaw before he settles back on his elbows across the blanket and your gaze lifts skyward. You’ve never seen so many stars before—the light pollution in Gotham almost blots out the moon most nights, and you want to commit this view to memory, to remember every twinkling ball of starlight scattered across the charcoal sky.

“How’d you find this place?” You murmur softly, fingers curling around the hem of your sundress, picking at the edge idly.

“Ivy owed me a favor.” Jason answers, laughing when your head whips around to look at him. 

“This is Poison Ivy’s garden?” You hiss, eyebrows knitted together, and he laughs harder, his palm cupping your knee as he gives you a gentle shake. 

“Relax, baby,” he teases, laughter still bubbling up in his throat. It makes his voice a little raspier, a little more gruff, and with it your pulse spikes, because goddamn if little things like that don’t turn you to mush. “There’s nothing poisonous here, I promise.” 

You give him a skeptical look, but it quickly melts away into a smile that makes Jason’s throat tight with emotion. Yeah, he’s in deep, tilting back a swig of his beer in hopes that it’ll hide the heat that’s coloring his cheeks rosy. It doesn’t, your smile turning cheshire when you snatch the bottle from his hands and neck back what’s left. 

His face turns sour, glaring at you while he folds those thick arms across his chest, his t-shirt struggling to contain the sheer mass of him, the cotton stretched to its limit. The sight has your cheeks warming, mouth going dry, because it should be fucking illegal to look like that.  “I was drinking that, brat.” Jason chides, and you answer with a flick of your tongue past your lips, blowing a raspberry at him. 

“Sucks to suck, I guess.” You retort, lifting your eyes back towards the sky, the distraction providing a perfect opportunity for him to wrap those massive hands around your waist and haul you onto his lap. 

It’s no surprise to anyone that Jason is strong, he’s built like a brick shithouse—an absolute unit of a man from head to toe, and yet it still catches you off guard every single time he flaunts that strength. Like all of those early mornings when he’s just gotten home from patrol while you’re getting ready for work and he can’t help but lift you into his arms to fuck you in the shower, or those hazy nights when you’ve both had one too many and he’s got you folded in half against the brick wall of an alley, one hand over your mouth to muffle the sounds you make while he turns you inside out with the slow drag of his cock. 

Your reaction is always the same though, an excitable giggle slipping out from behind your teeth as your hands settle on his shoulders, only this time your legs are spread open to accommodate the width of his stocky thighs. You bite your lip, and Jason’s bravado slips, if only for a moment, as his eyes track the movement, blood immediately rushing to his dick and—shit, why the fuck did he wear jeans tonight?

“Wanna say that again?” He goads, cocking his head to the side, fingertips digging into the soft flesh of your hips until you squeal, wriggling around on his lap in an attempt to flee. “Nuh uh, you’re goin’ nowhere, baby.” Jason taunts you, his arms locking around your back, pulling you in until you’re chest to chest. 

It’s a wonder, he thinks, gazing at you through hooded eyes, how he ever manages to keep his hands off of you in the first place, how the two of you even make it out of your bedroom. Someone should give him a goddamn medal or something, because it takes more self control than he’s used to practicing—resisting the urge he has to tear your shit up every minute of every day.

And that’s without mentioning how you look tonight, sprawled out on top of him in that little scrap of fabric you call a sundress, the hem riding up the tops of your buttery thighs, exposing the barest hint of your core, pussy lips peeking out from behind those lacy panties you’re sporting—taunting him, begging for the kind of attention he’s all too happy to supply. 

You let your hands roam, gliding across the tops of his shoulders and around to the back of his neck, fingertips snaking up through his hair, the longer pieces curling in the sticky, nighttime summer heat. “You got that much right, at least.” You tell him, because even though you’re more composed about it, you’re still just as lovesick as he is. 

“Sweet talkin’ me isn’t gonna make me forget your little comment,” Jason muses, palms dragging up the outsides of your thighs until his fingers disappear beneath the skirt of your dress, thumbs rubbing heated circles into the skin, “but I’ll let you make it until we get home.”

A promise for later. 

His hands travel higher still, dipping under the lace stretched thinly at the apex of your thighs. He drags them inward, tugging the sodden material away from your slit, the rough pads of his fingertips tracing the crease where your legs meet your cunt. You keep your eyes fixed on his, hiccuping a soft breath in because you know exactly what he’s thinking when he leans in, nose skimming across your jaw and up until his breath is cooling against the shell of your ear.

“Wore this thing just to torture me, didn’t you? Been flashing me these pretty little panties all night. Think you’re so clever, hm?” You puff out a shaky breath, nodding softly, your hair tickling Jason’s face. “Shame m’gonna ruin ‘em.” His fingers curl and pull, ripping at the delicate lace until it tears apart and he pulls them clean off in one fell swoop, another pair of your underwear now lost to his impatience and show-boating.

Jason lets his tongue trace over your cartilage, teeth nipping at your earlobe until you shiver, a soft whimper forcing its way out of your mouth. “So proud of yourself, aren’t you? Got me all worked up—you and that smart fuckin’ mouth in this tiny fuckin’ dress. Know what m’gonna do now, baby?”

He cups your pussy and gives it a firm squeeze, pleased as punch when his palm is met with the oozing slick of your arousal, free hand trailing up your spine until he’s cradling the back of your head. It almost feels loving, and then he tightens that hand into a fist, tangling your hair as he yanks your head backwards, exposing the column of your throat to his eager mouth. 

Plush lips latch onto your dewy skin until the blood vessels rupture while Jason runs his first two fingers over your slit, spreading you open, groaning at the heat he finds there. He knows exactly what it feels like to be swamped by that heat, wrapped up in molten velvet, and he ruts his hips up into you, cock straining beneath denim, the zipper catching on his sensitive head until he rips himself away to hiss. 

“Gotta get you ready, yeah? Gonna fuck you dumb when we get home, princess. Fill you so full’a my cum that it’ll be leakin’ outta you ‘til tomorrow night.” Your answering moan makes him feral, growling as he hauls your mouth down to meet his in a kiss that’s wet and messy, no desire at all to make it pretty or sweet, and that suits you just fine.

Finally, Jason lets his fingers dredge through your folds, swiping over your clit, down to your hungry little hole, and back up—teasing you, feeling the way your sensitive pearl pulses under his touch. Sucking your tongue into his mouth, he groans, drunk off the taste of you, sweet as honeydew with a hint of bitter from the beer you stole. He hooks two digits inside you, swallowing the sound you make—shell shocked and breathy while he works you open until his palm is flat against your mons. 

He keeps them there, deeply seated, and curls them against your gummy walls while your fingernails dig harshly into the meat of his biceps and you squeal. It’s too much—a sensory overload, barely any effort at all and you’re already wound so fucking tight, amazed by how quickly Jason can make you sprung. “Mhm,” he murmurs against your kiss swollen lips, hazy eyes bouncing between yours, “that’s my girl, lemme hear you. Know it feels good, baby, gonna make it all better just—fuck—just sit still for me, hm?”

Lust-drunk, you nod frantically, whining low in your throat as Jason begins to fuck you with his fingers, opening you up for a third that has you bouncing softly on his lap. Christ, he’s never seen you quite like this—so wild and free, wanton cries of pleasure drowning out the consonance of buzzing from the fireflies that flit through the air around you.

“Jay,” you pant, arching into him, pretty tits perched right in his face, nipples pebbled and peeking through the thin material of your dress, “fuck, s’good. Please—wan’ cum.” He bends forward to tongue at your tits, teeth catching on those perked little nubs, lavishing them with the attention they’re sorely missing. It makes your thighs quiver, his thumb joining in his efforts to shatter you right here and now, flicking tight and hard against your clit.

“Go on, pretty girl. Cum for me, make it nice an’ messy.” He coos, the tone of his voice is almost mocking, but you’re far too lost in your pleasure to care. You’ll worry about what this means for the rest of your night later, right now all you care about is chasing the release that’s rising quickly and you to meet it.

The wet squelch of you pussy is music to Jason’s ears, his forearm burning from his efforts, fucking into you at a brutal pace while your walls flutter deliciously around his fingers. Leaning back a little, he untangles his hand from your hair and grips your jaw hard enough that it pulls your focus and you wince. “Eyes on me, baby.” He commands, desperate to watch the way you crumble for him—only for him.

Your orgasm crests and then crashes, rocketing you into bliss so sharp that you see stars, an imprint of the very same sky you were just gazing at not twenty minutes ago, your entire body quaking as he corrals you by your hip, anchors you flat atop his thighs while he works you through it. He can feel your cum rolling down his wrist, cooing and praising you with sweet words as he kitten licks the sweat gathered above your lips, across your chin, salty and earthy. 

“Good fuckin’ girl. Cum so hard for me, look so goddamn beautiful, princess.” He murmurs, biting at the juncture where your neck and shoulder meet while you ride out the final waves of pleasure, flexing out your fingers from where they were wedged into his arms. 

Jason gives you a moment to breathe, gentle when he slips his fingers free from your swollen, gushy core. Bringing them up to his mouth, his tongue laps at the pearly droplets running down his arm, fingers webbed with your glistening release that he suckles greedily with a lascivious moan. The sound travels straight to your overworked clit, a gentle thrumming already starting up again as he cocks a brow at you and smirks, like he just knows.

“Better get you home, huh? Don’t think Ivy would take too kindly to us defiling her garden more than we already did.” You sock him square on his chest, and he laughs, pulling you close for another kiss that you smile into, cupping his face in your hands.

“Good idea,” You answer, the tip of your nose brushing his. “Apparently I have some apologizing to do. Sensitive little baby Jason Todd can’t handle a little ribbing.” 

His smile widens, not bothering to call you on your jibe. “Damn right you do,” he says, lifting you off of his lap to start gathering your things. When he stands, he offers you his hand, and you slip your fingers between his—still damp from your pussy.  Glancing down at you, Jason runs his tongue over his teeth and grins again, pulling you towards the path that leads out of the garden. “Plus you own me a beer.”

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd smut #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood smut #batfam #batfamily #jason todd #red hood #smut fic #smut writing

[lunasfics]

You Remind Me of Lilies - Damian Wayne

Summary: "You remind me of lilies.” He paused, eyeing you with curiosity, “And why is that, beloved?”  You smiled, “You just do, all different colors of lilies mean different things, and I can trace each one back to you. Every time.”

pairing: older! Damian Wayne x gn! Reader

word count: 611

warnings: none

a/n: saw a picture of lilies and got the idea to write this <3 my formal apology for the jason angst lol, i hope you like it! - luna <3

reblogs are appreciated!

The moment was a quiet one. The two of you were sitting on the grassy patch, the soft cloth from your earlier picnic providing comfort beneath you. Damian held your hand in his as he looked forward, eyeing the patches of lilies scattered across the meadow. 

You looked at him, his brilliant green eyes glazed over with the soft peachy tint of the sunset ahead. The soft breeze swaying his hair ever so slightly, his smooth olive skin was kissed by the soft pink and orange hues of the fading sun. He turned to you, his gaze catching yours. His lips quirked up into a soft smile.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“You remind me of lilies.” 

He paused, eyeing you with curiosity, “And why is that, beloved?” 

You smiled, “You just do, all different colors of lilies mean different things, and I can trace each one back to you. Everytime.” 

A soft shade of pink spreads over his ears and cheeks, he scoots closer to you, the hand that was holding yours letting go and snaking itself around your waist. You leaned into him, relishing the moment. The soft sounds of the grass rustling in the breeze, a blue hue slowly washing over you as the sun sets further. The temperature cooled slowly, the warmth of the sun dissipating, you brought yourself closer to Damian. 

“Tell me about the lilies.” He spoke softly, you almost didn’t catch it. You smiled. 

“Well, white lilies mean purity, tranquility, and humility. Red ones signify love and affection, pink symbolizes youth and joy, and orange ones represent happiness, love, and warmth.” 

He spoke softly, “I don’t know that I’m any of those things.” 

You turned to look at him, “Nonsense, you’re all those things and more.” 

He met your gaze, smiling softly, the sun was gone by now. However looking into his sparkling green eyes, seeing the small crinkles at the corners from his soft gaze, they could’ve fooled you into thinking the sun was shining on just the two of you. 

He leaned and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

“I don’t think I would be anywhere near where I am today if not for you. I love you.” He spoke softly. His voice is gentle, tender. 

You were so proud of him. Truly. He'd graduated from the Robin title, taking on his own identity, he'd started attending Gotham University with you. He'd opened up, made friends, he'd come so far. And it was all him. As far as he has come, these kinds of soft gazes, tender words, and warm touches were the kind that he saved only for you. It made them all the more special.

“That's all the product of your effort, Dami, not me. I love you too.” You leaned your head back on his chest, his arm wrapped securely around you. 

The two of you stay like that for a moment, a comfortable silence washing over you like a warm blanket of serenity. The bees have stopped buzzing, the sounds now replaced with the distant songs of the cicadas, and the soft sounds of the crickets. 

Damian broke the silence, “I used to think you were too good for me. That I didn’t deserve you. This. Even now when I look at you it’s as though I am seeing the stars for the first time.”

You met his eyes, gazing into the now darkened shade of green, “You deserve everything good in this world.” 

He held you closer, kissing you softly. He pulled away, speaking softly, “The sun is down, we should get going.” 

You shook your head, “Let’s stay just a little bit longer. This is nice.” 

He smiled and nodded, “As you wish, beloved.”

#dc x reader #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #x reader #x gender neutral reader #damian wayne x gender neutral reader #damian al ghul #damian x reader #dc comics #dc #robin #robin x reader #dc robin #dc damian wayne #x reader fluff #dc x reader masterlist #damian wayne x reader fluff #damian #damian fluff #damian x gn! reader #batman

[munsonluhvr]

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME [PART 1]

synopsis: modern!cowboy!steve harrington x country!fem!reader | the small town you grew up in became unbearable by the time you graduated from high school. you fled to the big city, far away from farms, southern accents, and cows, leaving your family and friends behind. but, you return back to your hometown for a family wedding, and forced to confront someone from your past - steve harrington. word count -3.7k warnings: angst, complex friendships/family relationships. not spellchecked, but will be tomorrow.

𑁍 part 2 & part 3 coming soon...

Stepping off the airplane, the sun shines brightly in your eyes, acres, and acres of farm land outstretching in front of you. The heat is thick, nearly unbearable after sitting in a nicely air-conditioned plane for several hours. Your suitcase and backpack weigh heavily on your arms; you adjust to make them easier to carry. 

“Y/n,” you hear off in the distance, and you make shade with your hand, squinting to look at the exit of the airport to see who’s calling your name. You see your grandmother, grandfather, and parents jumping up and down, waving their arms. 

It’s been quite some time since you’ve been to your hometown, everything looking so familiar and foreign at once. Already, barely off the airplane, you notice how everything is so different from the city, from the environment, the sweet smell of grass and farm animals, the low hum of crickets and cicadas buzzing around. Even the people are different, the southern accents and cowboy boots, jeans splattered with mud and hard work. You know you’re home. 

You hustle across the pavement, suitcases in tow. Your family rushes towards you with excitement, their arms and bodies embracing you with excitement. “It’s been far too long since I’ve seen my granddaughter,” your grandmother says, cupping your face in her soft, wrinkled hands. “I think I’m going to kidnap you, so you never disappear for years and years again.”

You laugh softly, comforted by the presence of your family, the people who know you best. You had fled this small hometown of yours, seeing something bigger and better. Though you had the greatest childhood memories, catching frogs in the creek, swinging for hours on the tire swing, cookouts at your grandparents farm, you felt as though there was something more, something else beyond small-town living.  Though you aren’t sure you ever found it. 

“C’mon, now. We got some surprises waitin’ for you back at the house.” Your grandfather says, ushering you towards the parking lot. All different sizes and colors of trucks filled the parking lot, shaggy dogs sitting patiently in the beds of the car. You groan. “Surprises?” 

You barely had time to think as you and your family drove home, your grandparents and parents chattering and asking you endless questions about your life in the city. You answered each question, your eyes trained out the window as farms pass you by, multi-colored cows and horses looking back at you. The warm summer air blows through your hair, the thick heat causing sweat to accumulate at your hair line. 

Rolling the wheels over the gravel and dirt driveway, your grandfather’s red truck bouncing side to side, you pull up to your grandparent’s large farmhouse, chickens scattered all across the lawn. There’s balloons, tied to the front step banisters, other cars parked alongside the driveway. “How many people are here?” you ask, looking between your family members in the car. 

“Oh,” your grandmother says, looking over at you from the passenger seat, a mischievous smile on her mouth. “Just the whole town.” 

You laugh softly, feeling already drained. 

Your grandfather halts the car, your mom reaching over to rub your arm. “Don’t be overwhelmed.” You nod, biting at your bottom lip. You step out of the car, dusty dirty clouding your shoes. 

“Go on in, I’ll get your bags.” Your father says, gesturing towards the car. You nod again, walking towards the house with your grandparents and mother. The front porch groans under your body weight, the frailness of the aged wood demonstrating how it should be replaced soon. You turn the doorknob, the chatter of voices coming to a halt as you let the door swing open, tens of eyes looking back at you. 

In unison, countless people yell, ‘welcome home,’ bright smiles on their faces. As you look around, you recognize that it’s all of your grandparents friends, all of them looking older then the last time you saw them; some of your family members, your cousin who’s getting married in several days. You also recognize your friends from high school, most who decided to stay nearby after graduation, welcoming you back with excited faces. They all rush towards you, hands grazing your cheeks, soft pats on your back. 

You greet people as they come up to you, your mind aching with overstimulation. The elderly guests tell you how much you’ve grown up, how beautiful you are; your friends catch you up on the latest gossip, what other classmates are up to; your family telling you how much they’ve missed you, how excited they are for your cousin to be getting married, the event bringing everyone together again. 

“I’m so excited that you’re a bridesmaid,” your cousin, Heather, says. “I hope the wedding goes well – we’ve put so much effort into it.” 

You hum, your mouth becoming dry. You feel the need to disappear. “It’ll go great, I’m excited to be a part of your special day.” 

At last, you’re able to escape to the kitchen, searching your grandparents cupboards for a cup. You find one, turning the faucet on to let the ice, cold water rush out. You stick the cup under the faucet, taking sips as the cup fills. 

“Never thought I’d see you again,” a deep voice says from behind you, causing you to turn around. Your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach, your skin flushing with heat. Steve Harrington leans against the kitchen island, arms crossed in front of his chest. His blue jeans are splattered with dark paint, his boots stained by grass, a cowboy hat settled low on his hair, covering his infamous, brown hair. 

You swallow, turning around to lean against the kitchen sink. “Steve?” Your heart thumps against your chest, churning begins in your stomach. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him. 

Steve hums, nodding. “Barely recognize me?” 

You shake your head. “Of course, I remember you. I could never forget you.” And despite that being true, you tried for many years to forget Steve. 

He still looks as beautiful as he did in high school; time has been kind to him. Steve, of course, looks more like a man, his form filling in nicely. His bare arms are tanned, sun kissed, his arms strong and muscley. Even from where Steve stands, you can sense he must work on a nearby farm, his musk tangled with the smell of the outdoors and horses. “I’m surprised,” he says, an edge to his voice. “You ran away so fast after graduation; barely said goodbye.”

You lean against the kitchen sink farther, the edge of the counter cutting into your back. “You always knew that was the plan, Steve.” 

You and Steve had been close in middle school, two peas in a pod. He was a true country boy, finding refuge in the time you both spent at your grandparent’s farm. Steve was always there to ride the horses, riding as far as your grandparent’s property allowed. He was the person you’d build forts with using fallen down trees, who taught you how to fish in the creek, capture lightening bugs in jars. You and Steve spent so many hours outside, seldom coming in before the stars were able to be seen against the dark, black sky, smelling like grass and summer air, fingernails caked with dirt. 

In high school, you and Steve remained friends, but the adventures outside came to a close. You both got your own friend groups, though by living in such a small town everyone was friends with each other. You’d go to small parties; Steve would be there too. You’d watch the football games in the stands, Steve would be beside you, a blanket in his hands to throw over your laps. You always knew Steve cared for you, always be there to swoop you up in his beloved pick-up truck. 

Steve shrugs, crossing his boots as he leans against the kitchen island. “A lot of time has passed, I guess. How’s the big city?” 

You open your mouth to respond, suddenly feeling vulnerable in front of Steve, as if you’ve met the person you feel like you can confess to that the world isn’t particularly great when you get out of your hometown’s limits, but your grandmother comes barreling in to the kitchen; her hands clasp when she sees that you and Steve stand only a foot away from each other, talking for the first time in years. “Look at you two together; it’s almost as if no time has passed.” 

You smile, looking down at the floor, as your grandmother makes her way over to you and Steve. She outstretches her arms, placing them on yours and Steve’s bicep. “I just wanted to tell you Steve that the horses need to be brought in from the pasture, there’s going to be a storm tonight and they should be in the barn.” 

You frown, looking between your grandmother and Steve. “Nana, why would Steve bring in the horses; I can do it.” 

Your grandmother laughs, placing a hand on her mouth. “I guess I forgot to tell you, but Steve works for your grandfather and I now, works for the farm.” 

You nod slowly, your eyes landing on Steve. You suppose you aren’t surprised; Steve always loved the farm as if he was a part of the land himself. Steve nods too, looking towards your grandmother. “I’ll get right on that. I’ll see you around y/n.” Steve steps away from you with a curt nod, exiting the house from the kitchen door that leads out to the backyard. 

“Such a nice young man.” Your grandmother hums, watching the curtains flow with warm summer air. Outside, the sky has darkened inch by inch, dusk beginning to creep over the town. “He’s a hard worker too. Always asks me what you’re up to in the city and what not.” 

You raise your eyebrows, glancing at your grandmother. “Oh?”

Your grandmother smiles when she finds you looking at her, a curious look on your face. “Oh yeah. I think he’s always been in love with you, ever since you were little, out running through the fields like wild things.” 

Your cross your arms over your chest, clearing your throat. “That’s not true, grandma, we’ve always been good friends.” 

Your grandmother hums, then shrugs, turning back towards the living room where house guests still mingled. “You’d be surprised,” your grandmother says over her shoulder, walking out of the kitchen. “How distance makes the heart grow fonder.”

The next morning you wake up in your childhood bedroom, with a raging headache. Mingling with friends and family proved to be an exhausting task, overstimulating too. As you wake up, you look around your room, trinkets bringing back memories in an instant. 

You see your vanity, old pieces of makeup and perfume scattered around the countertop, pictures of your friends wedged in between the mirror and its frame. On your shelves, old, tattered books about horses are wedged in between glass figurines of horses, their sparkly eyes staring back at you. Horse ribbons, royal blue, and bright red, hang from all corners of your room. You feel comforted by your things, the memories like pieces of candy, sweet and savory. 

The window is open halfway, the curtain billowy as it blows in the wind, warm summer air making its way into your room. Faintly, you smell food cooking, bacon and pancakes wafting through the air.  Your stomach growls loudly and you decide it’s best if you get up for the day. 

In your pjs, you creep down the staircase, noticing that everyone else’s bedroom doors are open and vacant. Once you get to the kitchen, you see your parents and grandparents, and the family dog, sitting around the kitchen table. 

“Nice of you to join us,” your mother says, stabbing at a piece of scrambled eggs. “Grab yourself some breakfast.” 

The kitchen is bright with light, slightly messy with bowls of batter, cracked egg shells covering the countertops. “What are your plans for today, y/n?” your grandfather asks, watching you put together your breakfast. 

You shrug. “Heather needs me to do one last fitting for the dress later today but that’s it. I’ll probably just hang around here today.” 

“Might as well go to the barn,” you grandmother says. “I bet the horses miss you.” 

Your father hums, sipping from his cup of orange juice. “That would be nice to see you at the barn again, spending time with the horses. To see you be a country girl again instead of a city girl.” 

Everyone at the table laughs, even you, but your grandmother groans. “I don’t know how you bear living in the city, living in the country is so much better.” You bite into a piece of bacon, the sweetness of it mouthwatering; bacon isn’t this fresh in the city.

You smile as you notice how you agree with your grandmother; your younger self would be so disappointed. “Very true, grandma.” 

After breakfast, you venture up to your room again. You feel like your old self again, almost a glimpse of the past, as you pull your boots on, a pair of throwaway jeans fastened by your old turquoise belt you saved up for in high school. It’s been a long time since you’ve been near horses, or been in a barn, and you’re ready to get your hands dirty. 

You make your way out of the farmhouse, taking the dirty path to get to the freestanding yard out in the field. Though it still looks the same, the red paint has chipped off, exposing the brown wood of the structure. The field is fenced off with white rails, the horses walking happily through the tall grass, bending their long necks down to graze. As you approach the barn, the sweet yet tangy smell of horses accumulates you, tickling your nose. 

Inside of the barn is cool, a nice refuge from the sun that beats down outside. Chickens run aimlessly down the center aisle, clucking with alarm, little bits of hay and grain crunch underneath your feet. You notice some of the horses have chosen to navigate their way inside to their shady stalls. You walk down the aisle, noticing how your grandparents have bought new horses. You get to the end of the barn, looking out to the tree line that meets the vast and open farm property. You look to your right and see a plaque hanging on the door: ‘Dolly’ 

You can hardly believe it as a light brown horse blinks back at you. Dolly is your childhood horse, you’re sure she’s elderly now. You open the stall door, reaching your hand out as the horse greets you happily. You decide to pull her out to give her a groom. 

After tying her to the wall, and getting your supplies, you begin to brush Dolly, each sweep calming you immensely. You work in silence, only the sounds from the farm animals fill the silence. That is until a figure appears at the end of the door – Steve. 

You look back at Dolly, training your eyes on her. Though it’s not line that makes you invisible; Steve clears his throat as he sees you standing in the aisle. 

“Hey,” Steve says, a bag nearly the same size of him in his arms. He plunks it down on several bales of hay and you read that it’s horse feed. 

“Hey,” you say, looking back at Dolly. 

“It’s like I’ve seen a ghost,” Steve says, glancing at you, then picking up a bale of hay, carrying it towards the end of the barn. “Seeing you in here.”

You frown, your arm slowing to moving in small circles. “What do you mean?” 

Steve shrugs, his face obscured from the darkness of the barn, his outline only clear to you. “We used to be in here together all the time, remember? Then when you left it’s been just me. It’s like a flashback to high school when I see you, here and now, with Dolly.” 

You suck your cheeks in, chewing on the insides of your cheek. “Oh.” 

You watch as Steve pulls bolt cutters from his back pocket, clipping the string that holds the hay together apart. “It’s a good thing. I like it.” 

You clench your jaws, nodding slowly. “So, you work at the farm now?” 

Steve nods, pulling flakes of hay off. “Started right after graduation, never stopped.” 

“You always did love the farm; I think even more then me.” 

Just then, Steve laughs, standing up to look towards you. “Remember all the fun times we had? When we’d stay out so late until your grandparents would come looking for us with flashlights? Man, those were the times; I think about those memories a lot.” 

You smile, beginning to brush Dolly quicker. “I also remember when you’d scare me with frogs, holding them up to my face and letting them jump on me. That never stopped in high school either, you knew I hate frogs.” 

Steve hums, a playful smile on his face. “I guess I kind of had a crush on you back then. But don’t worry, I’m over that now.” 

Silence rolls over you and Steve, his confession startling you. Steve liked you at one point? Suddenly you remembered what your grandmother had said in the kitchen last night. How had you never realized that? 

Steve clears his throat. “Are you going riding?” 

You shrug, glancing at Dolly. “I was thinking about it. Want to join?” 

Steve looks at the hay he was disassembling. He shrugs. “I guess I could spare a few minutes.” 

You smile, then nod. “Great.” 

You and Steve tack up the horses in silence, dancing around each other as you grab the saddles. Once you’re set to go, you use a bale of hay to mount Dolly, lining up behind Steve as you both guide the horses out to the pasture. 

Your skin automatically gets hot under the sun, the temperature a big difference from the shade in the barn. The crickets chirp loudly, the breeze blowing the tall grass lightly. You and Steve guide the horses along the perimeter of the fence, going at a slow lope. As you ride along the farm, you remember all the places you and Steve would play, skin slight with sweat as you imagined yourself as a princess and a knight, as cowboys running along the train tracks.

You remember the twinkle in Steve eyes, how his chubby cheeks would turn pink from sun exposure and exhaustion, his knees covered in scrapes and dirt. You smile to yourself, as you imagine the young version of Steve coaxing you to jump from the swing that was tied to a tree branch into the stream, or how he carried you back home when you twisted your ankle, tears threatening to spill out. 

“What’re you smiling for?” Steve asks, glancing over at you, his face shaded by his hat. He holds his reins in one hand, letting his other hand rest on his thigh. He guides his horse close to you, your legs nearly brushing. 

You smile, shaking your head. “Just thinking about the mischief, we got up to when we were kids.” 

Steve smiles, looking ahead of him. “Those were the good days. High school wasn’t bad either. Just too bad you had to leave us.”

You glance at Steve. “Not like anything would have changed if I stayed.” 

Steve shrugs, glancing back at you. “Us not talking for years would have changed.” 

You glance away, looking straight ahead. “I know, I’m sorry for not keeping in touch.” Steve shrugs, shaking his head. “You did what you had to do; I know this town always felt too small for you. Did you ever find what you were looking for?”

You shake your head. “No,” you say simply.  

Steve nods, letting silence come in between you two again. You ride next to each other, letting the memories roll through your minds. 

You ride for the next little while, until you hear a loud bell ring from the farmhouse. Even from far away, you can see your grandmother’s body standing on the porch, her arms waving. It must be time to get your dress fitted. 

“I should probably get back,” you say, beginning to turn Dolly around. “Heather needs me to get my bridesmaid dress fitted one last time.” 

Steve nods, following you as you head back towards the barn. “I’ll race you.” Steve says, kicking his horse forward before you can object. You gently kick Dolly forward knowing Dolly is no match for Steve’s much youthful horse.

Once you and Steve get to the barn and down from your horses, you walk the horses into the barn, retying them to the wall. You work quickly, knowing Heather gets impatient with time. 

“You know,” Steve says, pulling his saddle off, “Jason Carver is having a little get together tomorrow. You should swing by – or I could pick you up.” 

You nod, tossing Steve a smile. “Yeah, sure, that sounds fun. We could catch up too.” 

Steve nods, returning a tight-lipped smile. “Okay, great.” 

You pat Dolly as you return her to her stall, watching as she goes straight for her hay, You walks towards the door, turning to glance at Steve. “Thanks for the ride. See you tomorrow.” 

Steve waves, watching as you turn around, your legs tanned from the time you just spent out in the sun. His heart squeezes as he remembers you, thinking of the way his younger self would spend all day together, out in the field together, then how he’d go home and lay in his bed exhausted, but his mind would race as he’d replay the day over in his mind. 

Then he remembers how in high school, he would watch you with your friends, how you switched your tom-boy clothes for skirts, and the feeling he had when realized he loved you and that seeing you in skirts made his day. Steve, as he watches your walk back to the farmhouse, how he loved to be near you, the late-night drives home from small get togethers or sitting with you at the football games. How your face lit up against the stadium lights, how you’d cheer, a toothy smile on your face. 

Steve has had so many questions, relying on your grandmother to feed him pieces of information about your life in the city, wondering if you have a boyfriend in the city, if you miss being in the country or miss him. Now here you are, like a gift from heaven. Now you’re back home – right where you left him. 

#stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x y/n #cowboy!steve harrington

[pinknipszz]

adagio for strings 2/4

↷ ˊ- true form!ryomen sukuna x f!reader

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"i'm not a crook!"

' - wc: 3.7k

you look more yūrei than human with how you stagger down the winding path, your breaths short and quick and shaky. the moon looks at you like how a mother would when her child is up to no good. she hides behind thick clouds to obscure her light in an effort to keep you from reigning carnage, but you move. to hell with the moon, you think, squinting your eyes to make out the dark shapes ahead. i don’t need a mother to guide me, much less the fucking moon.

you drag your feet across sharp stones hardly wincing, like a crippled animal on broken legs. the weight of your weapon is the only friend you have left, and you swallow the noise that crawls up your throat. you don’t know what it might’ve been. maybe a scream or even a sob, but it doesn’t matter now that the village is close. your eyes adjust to the darkness and you recognize the water well, the stone steps, the statues of yokai that are supposed to protect from natural disasters. you nearly bark a laugh at the irony.

is this what it takes to become a ghost story? you soak in the silence as you limp. in a hundred years or so, you think that farmers will warn their children about playing outside after dark, lest they want to be stolen by a pauper turned vengeful by those who damned her. it feeds your delirium and takes your mind off the ashes. this is only fair. an eye for an eye. considering the years of verbal and physical torment, you find this generous. mosquitoes swarm your space when you stumble over the steps of the first house.

it’s a humble thing, nothing impressive about it, belonging to either a cowherd or a farmer, but there are no sandals or scattered tools on the porch to confirm. after a quick assessment of the surroundings, you slip through a crack between the sliding doors. this’ll work, i’ll make it work. the inside is just as bland upon entering. you scoff, disappointed. there are no pots or paintings or portraits to take, no trophies to collect, but you find grass cushions around a low table for eating. tell-tale signs of life. they encourage you to move.

it doesn’t take much time to find a room, the only room, at the end of the sandalwood hall. you press your ear against the door, heart hammering in your chest, and wait for a few seconds. it remains silent. you pull back to stand face-to-face with the thin paper. a serpentine tongue flits across cracked lips. you don’t know what you’ll see inside. maybe a man and his wife, perhaps a family, sleeping soundly in proper, padded mattresses. they are probably dreaming about silly things, like conquering demons with sharp teeth or becoming the next shogun. 

hot jealousy swirls in the pit of your gut. it bends and snaps unnaturally, dragging its claws along the walls to tear apart your innards. dreaming of silly things is such a fucking privilege. you are more than happy to rip it from them.

but your hand never touches the wooden frame, held back by a ubiquitous force. cicadas whine for you. you blink with a bit of clarity and, for the first time in a while, think twice. your anger comes down to a slow simmer, diluted by a cold wave of realization. you don’t know what you’ll see inside. it repeats like a mantra in your head. you are thin and weak and don’t know how to fight. the words don’t feel like yours, but you listen. a man might draw his sword and strike you down. a woman might scream her head off. what then? the hand around your hatchet loosens its grip.

it repeats, you don’t know what you’ll see inside. 

your jaw is tight when you turn away, refusing to waste your chance on a bunch of strangers, before leaving as quietly as you came. realistically, you aren’t capable of fighting more than one person at a time. adrenaline has a timer that you don’t want to test. plus, there are people more deserving of death, like the kamo women. you consider it but decide that they’re not worth the effort. their esteemed estate sits at the top of the hill, and you’ll likely succumb to exhaustion before reaching it. the female seller is also out of the question; you don’t even know where she lives.

your best bet at revenge is the butcher, knowing that his house is tucked behind some trees down the street. you hesitate a little though. he is strong and powerful with burly arms that can snap brittle necks like yours, surely from experience. he is a challenge far greater than climbing a thousand steps for two women who know nothing about fighting. at least then, the playing field is even. but you remember how scared he was, and how his cowardice ran so deep that he had cried to a clan to get rid of you instead of doing it himself.

dried leaves crunch where you step. a grasshopper jumps away disturbed. that is one thing you hold over his head, it seems, one thing that makes you stronger than a man of muscle.

the walk is short. you reach it in just under five minutes minus the limping. you know that he earns more money than a cowherd and a farmer combined, if the size of his house is anything to go by. he must also be smarter because the door doesn’t budge when you try to slide it open, almost as if he anticipated your imminent arrival. but death doesn’t come knocking politely, and neither should you. you remember how you joked about squeezing through a hole in the back wall, rumored to have been from a strike meant for his prostitute wife. you’ll use it tonight to deliver the punchline.

you round the house and find the secret entrance. it’s boarded so poorly, almost as if he had just filled it with a couple of large rocks from the river and called it a day without bothering to take extra precautions. it takes the same amount of effort to pull them down with sanguine-wrought claws. luckily, the hole is large enough for a person to slip through, and you silently thank his wife, keeping your hatchet close. you hope she’s doing well wherever she is. you haven’t seen her at the market since the rumors have stopped, but you’re not overly concerned. she wasn’t kind to you either.

immediately you notice the air is different inside, almost stagnant. it’s colder too. hairs behind your neck stand on end, but you don’t let it deter you.

you explore the home with light steps. every once in a while, tatami floors creak underneath your feet. you freeze when they do and wait for frantic movements, but there’s none. you take a moment to calm yourself before continuing. in the kitchen, you find the butcher’s most prized possession: his cleaver. it rests on the wooden table abandoned by its owner. you approach to trace the metal. it’s cool to the touch and still sharp despite all of the flesh that it has cut through. this must have cost a fortune, you think. metals are hard to come by.

it would be a valuable thing to have by your side. it’d scare both people and animals more than a rusty hatchet with a weather-stained handle, and you’d never have to live in fear until the day it also deteriorates, but you don’t think that will happen for a long, long time. it’ll serve a message to the rest of them too. you’ll get to spend your final days eating peaches and melons offered out of fear, before being taken by the shogun’s army for a necessary execution. your fingers tingle. i’ll teach myself how to use you, and you reach for the foul weapon.

but your spine straightens at the sound of shuffling from somewhere deep in the house. it’s faint. horribly so, but you hear it. blood rushes to your head. you turn around half-expecting to see something behind you, but the space is empty. the shuffling continues, only this time a little louder, coming from the eastern hall with a single bedroom at the end. the butcher, you breathe shakily, forgetting the cleaver. it must be the butcher. he’s awake. you are tempted to run out of the house, tail tucked between your legs, but you swallow your fear. this bastard is the reason you’re sleeping without a roof tonight. 

you exit the kitchen and walk towards the room, your weapon ready. the shuffling grows louder, more frantic.  you focus your energy on standing upright, eyes burning from the effort to make out the darkness of the hallway. your hand glides along the wall for guidance, dust collecting at your fingertips. you only stop when you feel the familiar wooden frame of a door. when you hesitate for the nth time, the cold air curls around you with its tendrils, urging you forward. it whispers incoherent things. unable to resist temptation, you slide it open with one swift movement.

you think you’re ready for the butcher. you expect to find him twisting back and forth on his futon, or practicing his secret swordsmanship with ungraceful feet, or maybe even pacing the room like all men do. you’ve already thought of a million ways to catch him off-guard, and one of them might have worked if it'd actually been the butcher in the room, but nothing could have prepared you for this. there’s a large mass that’s darker than darkness, hunched in the far left corner, morphing between shapes as if it can’t decide between looking human or plant or animal.

you refuse to take your eyes off of it, like a sick audience for a sick show. the creature contorts unnaturally, bending this way and that before groaning a loud, horrible sound. it bounces off the walls in powerful waves that strain your ears. hissing, you don’t think twice before stepping back, but it’s already too late when tatami floors creak under your feet. immediately it silences, changing form in a blink. it is thinner and taller, closer to a corpse than anything, with features still indistinguishable in the dark. your mouth goes dry.

“what the hell—” it lunges forward. you fail to dodge.

the force of the fall rattles your bones, pushing out the air in your lungs. there is a resounding thud from where your hatchet falls. you aren’t given a chance to recover before it digs its long, black nails into your shoulders, drawing liquid copper, and claws at your flesh. the air is metallic on your tongue when you screech in pain. the creature shakes in turn, mimicking a laugh, and pushes against the lower half of your body to render it useless. you’ve only ever felt like this once in your life, when you had sleep paralysis as a child. the old sensation is ingrained in your memory, and it resurfaces only now. 

a coil snaps in your chest. “get off me!” you scream, thrashing violently. your hands curl into fists that jab at its sides. the creature doesn’t take a definite shape. you might as well be hitting air, but your efforts aren’t entirely futile. it recoils just enough for you to twist to your side and frantically search for your hatchet. when you see it in the far end of the hall, just a few arms-length away, you scramble towards it in desperation. but the creature is relentless. it grabs your ankle and pulls hard, dragging you further into the dark. no. no no no. you fight the paralysis that threatens to consume you, and with one final burst of strength, you kick.

you aren’t exactly sure why the creature lets go, wailing as if it came into contact with hot coal, but you don’t have time to ogle at how it presses itself against the wall in fear. you push yourself back on your feet and wobble quickly towards your weapon. when it’s back in your possession, you hold it tight until your knuckles turn stark white. this time you have no intentions of dropping it. your lungs burn when you breathe, and you’re sure you injured something, but you don’t dwell on it for too long. adrenaline has a timer.

you bare your teeth when the creature approaches. you’re ready to raise the hatchet. you remember the laws of nature when it lunges again, and you dodge. the strongest survive and forget the weak, who are branded for death the second they leave the womb. it runs through your veins like forbidden ichor. those gnarled hands shoot forward with inhuman speed, intent to kill, but you move just in time. you need to be the strongest in the room to win. the creature’s strikes wildly, its steps unpredictable. you cough blood at a particularly hard hit to your side. you need to be the strongest.

the creature falls forwards when you slash its legs. taking advantage of its vulnerable position, you rush forward and watch as it scrambles for footing, before you pull the hatchet up high. it looks at you then. though it lacks a proper face you think that it’s trying to mimic human emotion. you don’t know what it wants to evoke within you, but you hope it knows that it’s useless when you look back without a hint of remorse. the hatchet hits the juncture between its neck and shoulders, digs deep into black, warping mass, and comes off clean from the other side.

you watch it dissipate into nothing as if it was never there. the silence is nearly deafening. i did it. i killed it. your feet move before you could process what just happened, or what you just killed. the world blurs around you. when you pass the kitchen and catch a glimpse of the cleaver, you remember the butcher. he feels like a distant memory. you doubt he’s even alive anymore if the creature had been here the entire time. when you step out, the cool air hugs you tight. it’s still dark. you wonder if any time has passed at all.

when you reach the bottom step, you collapse forward and get a mouthful of dirt. adrenaline leaves your system before you get a chance to say goodbye, replaced instead with bone-deep exhaustion. your body remains glued to the ground as it succumbs to the exertion, fading in and out of consciousness. you dropped your hatchet again, you realize through the haze. you summon enough strength to prod at the space beside you. you swipe left and right, up and down. nothing. your vision blurs with unshed tears.

the pain is unbearable, gripping you like a vice and unwilling to go. even breathing is a difficulty on its own, with each inhale accompanied by a sharp pain in your chest. you know the injury is lethal. you wonder who will find your body first in the morning. maybe a child or a seller. you wonder if they’ll celebrate your death with sake or fresh meat before dumping your body into the river. maybe they won’t want to waste anything at all, so they’ll leave you here to rot and go about their day. before you could enjoy your pity party, a gruff voice cuts through the silence.  “pathetic. that thing was hardly a curse.”

you blink, startled. a few tears fall and mix with the dirt. you don’t dare to look. 

“what happened to that spirit of yours? don’t tell me you’ve given up. get up.” it’s harsher now, like the sound of sharpening two swords.

what else is there to lose?. you force two arms under you, shakily planting your hands to push your upper body off the ground. you find a pair of feet, attached to two strong legs, a solid waist and—

your eyes widen in horror, and for the first time in your life you see a real monster. he possesses four— four— arms, two of which hold weapons you do not recognize, a second pair crossed over his chest. all four of his eyes watching you with disgusting amusement. he reeks of arrogance and condescension, etched in the grooves of his hideous face and the criminal tattoos worn with pride. you don’t know what kind of expression you’re wearing, but he laughs at it so loudly that you wonder how no one has woken up yet.

no, not again. your breaths turn rapid, eyes full blown and wild. i can’t do this again. this guy is different from the one in the house. i can’t— you could only imagine what he sees. a woman with sunken cheeks and torn skin, dressed in dirt and bloodied, battered garbs, lying on the brink of death. you come to think that he’s here to finish you off. at least one of you is enjoying themselves. “there you go,” he purrs, smiling sharp with pointed teeth stained red. “you nearly had me worried. it’d be a shame if you died already.”

you want to scream with what little voice you have left, but it only comes out in short, pained grunts. the monster notices this. carelessly, he throws his weapons behind him to crouch in front of you. he abandons them so easily that you wonder how he thinks of himself so highly that he can fight without them. he’s still massive from this angle, and your neck hurts from the effort to crane up at him. he props a now-free hand on his knee and rests his chin on its palm. “sounds painful,” he drawls, dripping with feigned concern. “need some help?” you simply stare.

“did you forget how to speak?” you think for a moment before shaking your head. “then speak.”

“i c-can’t,” you nearly punch the words out of you. 

a heavy sigh blows over you as he massages the bridge of his nose, grumbling something under his breath. the situation is almost comical. you can’t discern between his anger and disappointment. they blend so well together that you think he only feels both simultaneously, one unable to exist without the other. you aren’t surprised if that’s the case. everything about the monster came in pairs. two arms, two faces. of course he’d feel double the hatred over you. you just don’t understand why he hasn’t killed you yet. a creature like him doesn’t look like he’s capable of patience.

“you know,” his eyes narrow to thin slits. “you cause a lot of trouble in these parts. you’re like a fucking spawner, creating a bunch of pitiful curses.” so he’s not going to help you. the monster leans in to grab your face with one hand, squeezing your cheeks tight until your lips pucker. it feels like he’s trying to shatter your jaw with how much pressure he uses. “bet you don’t even know what curses are.” you don’t, but the word is familiar. you think that he catches the glint of recognition in your eyes, because his smile turns devilish.

“it’s a shame that you’re ugly,” he continues, humming to himself as he turns your head left and right. “you barely got any fat on you. you’re giving me close to nothing to work with.” fear shoots down your spine at his words, suddenly realizing the full extent of your vulnerable position. you think he notices that too because he simply chuckles and offers no clarification. his large hand crawls up the side of your face before tangling itself into your matted hair. he pulls back harshly and you wince.

“tell you what. i’ll give you food, water, and a bed if you make a deal with me.” his promise is vile. he takes advantage of your silence knowing full well that you’re unable to ask for its conditions. 

but still, you weigh your options. there is nothing left for you here in this small village. no family or friends to remember, no home to turn to. you were never liked by the residents either, and you doubt you ever will be no matter what you do. plus, people will think that you have something to do with the butcher’s disappearance. although you were supposed to, you’d still be falsely accused for a kill that wasn’t yours, which you still think is highly unfair. you’d be doing everyone a favor if you disappear anyways.

so you look at him with the last bits of your bravery and nod. he grins fiercely, pleased with your decision. 

“uraume,” he says. your eyes widen when a familiar figure materializes from nothing. the monk-child, who you saw at the market, the one that gave you your first pomelo. when they stand side-by-side over your collapsed form, something in your mind clicks. this four-armed freak is what leaves the village so restless. when sellers and ladies aren’t complaining about you, they talk about him. the “cursed object.” you still don’t know what that means. uraume’s expression is just as unreadable when they study you for the nth time. 

“prepare a room at the temple, and cook twice as much for dinner,” he orders, his eyes raking over you. his companion, who you’re starting to believe is his servant, bows their head and mutters a humble “yes sir” before dissolving into air. you gape, eyes are fixated on where they stood. the monster merely chuckles at your ignorance. his grip on your hair loosens, and he pushes your head back into the dirt, surely leaving a mold of your face for the sellers to marvel over the next morning.

you don’t know about the other hands hovering over your back, expelling enough energy to seep through your robes, past your flesh, and into your bones. “you don’t understand now, but you will soon,” his voice is hypnotizing, bleeding through the static in your ears. you feel your ribs click back into place, and you taste earth when you gasp. “i’ll make you an expert in curses.” 

exhaustion finally pulls you into its arms. it is your last embrace for a long, long time.

(masterlist) | listen to adagio for strings!

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #sukuna ryomen x reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna ryomen x you #heian period #true form sukuna #uraume #jjk x reader #jjk #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk imagines #sukuna imagine

[mintmatcha]

Part One: Baby Blue

cw: mentions of abuse, sexual encounter with dubious consent. a character driven piece

It was the first day of summer.

Fireworks scattered across the sky, just far enough away for the fat of their blooms to be concealed by the inky treeline. They whistled up, they fizzled down, forming a slow pattern that cut through the cicada song. The sound sizzled like fire and the night burned nearly as hot.

Cursed energy moved the same way fireworks did: unpredictably and variation in patterns. Fractions of light that flitted between almost everything, it flitted and flowed in an unsteady beat, dissipating into the air and forming fractals that spiraled out into nothing. When items got close enough to each other, they fully connected, sparked webbings that looped and laced endlessly a beautiful and lonely world for only Gojo Satoru's eyes to see.

The meeting house seemed to cling to remnants of curses, its walls tacky with faded imprints. Nothing more than ghosts of people who had once past through and the brighter, soft haze of you.

There was sorcerer somewhere in your bloodline, but only the silhouette of it was left for you, broad strokes with no real power behind it. When he was young, the men on the grounds had whispered about what a shame it was that you weren't like your father.

Sometimes, he agreed. Other times the sentence sat heavy in his stomach.

Gojo pushed off the shoulders of his yukata, but being bare chested did nothing to break the sweat. Heat still hung heavy on his skin. This house was not only stagnant in energies; wind passed over the tree tops, but didn't reach down to touch anything air on the property. 

A fuzzy, invisible string connected and Gojo knew you were near. He turned from the window before you even opened the door.

"Master Gojo." You bowed as you spoke, gaze cast low to the floor. The shadows moved heavy on your face and, for that moment, you looked like your mother in all the ways Gojo knew you would hate.

Over the years and infrequent meetings, he had learned a few things about you. Breakfast and lunch were your responsibilities, but dinner was deemed too important to be yours. You didn't sleep well at night, so you watched the stars and thought about everything and nothing.  The fall weather always made you sneeze, your mother always made you cry.

That night, your eyes were puffy and bloodshot, more so than they usually were.

"Master, huh?" He cocks his head and a droplet of sweat follows the new curve of his neck, trailing down, down, down. "Kind of kinky to call me that when we're alone."

Your eyes followed the beadlet for a moment and a pride swelled in his chest. He was used to women looking - they've been vying for his attention since he was too young to understand what those gentle touches and long glances meant. Power attracted desire, even long before he could reciprocate.

The way you looked at him feels different. It felt earned.

"You're still a cunt, aren't you?" you breathed, incredulous.

And suddenly, it felt like you'd really entered the room. Those fractals rotated, sparks spun. For once, he was thankful to be the only one who could see this version of the world. If anyone else could, he might have been embarrassed at how palpable his joy really was.

"How's my favorite maid?" He patted the porch next to where he sat,  "Sit with me. It's an order."

Just as you always did, you obeyed, walking across the room and coming down by his side. Usually, you'd have shed your traditional garments for something more casual to sleep in, but that night you were still dressed properly, with skirts pulled tight and neckline high. An unfamiliar scent clung to your skin, something much too mature for someone as young as you. Your mother wasn't someone to wear perfume, so he imagined you stole it from in between the pages of a magazine.

"You didn't bring your pretty friend this time."

Gojo wasn't aware of the silence between you until you broke it. A myriad of orange sparkles across the sky, fading out just as quickly as it had arrived.

"Oh? Which one?"

You stretched out, extending your legs past the perimeters of your skirts and pulling them back again. The fold of your leg pushed the fabric up, exposing much more thigh than Gojo is ready for. You've been beautiful since you were a child - beautiful in innocent ways, beautiful inherently- but you'd grown past that.  You were beautiful in ways that made him want.

"The one with the fox eyes," you said, “Geto Suguru.”

The recent memory of betrayal was bitter between Gojo's teeth. The news of it all had spread so quickly, ripping through whispers and gasps, that he hadn’t thought of the possibility of someone not knowing.

"Nah." He sucked the word through his teeth. It would have been impossible, but he swore he tasted gunpowder and sulfur on the air, “We aren’t friends anymore.”

You nodded as if you could possibly understand. 

"Gojo, I'm here to ask something from you."

You twisted to face him, eyes set strong and serious. Even in the dim of night he could make out how you sucked in air through your pursed lips to steady yourself.

"Have you ever..." You walked forward on your hands, pressing into his personal space. The tips of your fingers brushed against the sides of his thighs, so delicate he could barely feel it through the fabric. "Been with anyone?"

He scoffed and chuckled at the same time, almost choking on his own spit. Attention was not new, but touch? Touch was unexplored. 

"Yeah," he lied. He moved in sync with you, leaning back on to his elbows to make space for your body to slot above his. It was unnatural and strange, but welcome all the same,  "And I’m good at it.”

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you breathed. He tilted his chin up, closing the gap between your faces as much as he dared; any closer and it would have shattered the cocky swagger he feigned. It was you who broke the tension, slipping your fingers under the rim of his glasses and lifting them off, “And you’re lying through your teeth.”  

The air pulsed with color - the deep blues and reds of his own energy absorbing yours for a moment, so vivid that it was all he could see. 

“Is that why you came here?” he said, conceit dripping from his voice, “Come to steal the great Gojo Satoru’s V-card?”

“No," you replied, “I’m here to give you mine.”

You discarded your shirt. With an ease, your bra followed suit, tits exposed to the night air. It struck him that you were the first woman he'd ever seen naked in real life, imperfect in all the ways porn hadn't prepared him for, but incredibly, wonderfully real.

"Well?" 

Gojo realized he had fallen still. You were there, waiting for an answer. 

He would've been stupid to say no. Men don’t turn down beautiful women, men don’t say no to sex. Despite that, a bitterness clung to the back of his throat. He swallowed it down as he brought his hand to the elastic band of his underwear and pushed it down.

"If Geto was here, would you have sat on his cock instead?"

You don't hesitate. "No, I don't want my first time to be with a stranger."

That struck him as odd; despite the occasional encounter, he barely knew you at all, and yet you were straddling his waist, skirts gathered at your hips. If anything, the relationship between you was nothing more than a childish dream, something Gojo held on to when he needed to feel human.

"I thought it'd be…" You cocked your head as you gripped his penis, much too tight to be comfortable,  "Firmer."

"Ouch," Gojo cooed, only part of his anguish performative, "Give a man a chance to warm up."

"We don't have time for a warm up," you insisted, "He'll kill me if he finds me here."

Before he could question, you moved again. Your panties were suddenly pushed to the side and he was suddenly very aware of just how close you were, core pressed against core. His body reacted the way you wanted it too, but that sick, bile taste rose again-

In some ways,  Geto tore holes when he left, nibbled, frayed edges where trust should be. Whatever was between the two of you was different than whatever Gojo had with him, but those jagged pieces ached the same. 

"At least-"  Gojo fumbled forward, grasping for your face and any semblance of control. Once he had you, long fingers completely covering your cheeks and buried into your hair, Gojo tugged you close, noses bumping, "Kiss me first, damn." 

When his lips met yours, you laughed. It's not what he expected, not what he imagined all those times the thought had crossed his mind. It was wild and arrhythmic and loud, uncontrolled and unrefined, so much so that he had to stop so your teeth didn't clash against his.  When he dipped in for another kiss, you didn't stop, laughing against his lips and vibrating his face with sweet sounds. It's so sweet that he swore he could taste it, thick and lingering like honey, a flavor he hoped he could sear into his mouth and chest, never to forget. 

Then, the taste of salt tinted his tongue. 

Gojo pulled back just far enough to see your tears shimmer in the afterglow of fireworks. Suddenly, you didn't seem grown; you were just a child in the same ways he was. Comfort did not come naturally to him, instead locking his joints still in shock.

"Shit, you crying?" he said without thinking. 

Wiping your eyes with the palm of your hand, you tried to dip back in for more, but a firm hand from Gojo denied you. That was the final straw; you slumped.

"I don't-" You huffed in, sobs trembling in the corners of your voice, "I'm sorry, I don't wanna do this-"

Gojo knew the taste of mania. The high, the bad choices, all of it followed by the crashing, horrible lows; he should have known something was wrong with you much earlier. 

“I’m a little insulted you only want to fuck me because you’re having a mental break down- oi, quick cryin’, I’m kidding," He insisted, but you just kept sobbing, each moment growing louder and louder. When you were younger, your mother would bruise the backs of your thighs with a wooden spoon when she found you talking to guests when it was ‘unearned.’ It was fucked up then, but now, in his arms, it felt much, much worse. If he wasn’t here, would you have cried on your own? Would you hold in your feelings in silence?

“Shh,” Gojo patted your side, “Just say what's wrong.”

The night sat deep, the fireworks gone and the moon only a sliver. Even with his blackout glasses off, he can barely see you; the limited magic you carried dimmed itself down to nothing but dim. Like those glow in the dark stars kids hung on ceilings, he thought, a light so low he wasn’t sure if it was really there.

"Satoru." 

Oh. That sat strange in his stomach. Satoru: so strange, so simple.

It struck him that he didn’t remember your name.The whispers about you were always Maid, Daughter, Idiot, Useless. 

"Satoru, I'm getting married." 

His stomach twisted again. No ring sat on your finger, no excitement laced your voice. 

"Oh, shit. When?" Gojo said, “To who?”

"In ten hours," you said miserably, "Some Zen'in cuck//."

Gojo barked out a laugh at that. 

"It's not funny!” You were always funny, even when you didn’t mean to be. “They paid my mom for me and this stupid house and now I’m gonna have to spread my legs for some- some- some-.”

It took a moment for Gojo to swallow this. Arranged marriage was supposed to be for the elites, people who carried some sort of weight with their family name, but it wasn’t uncommon for the Zen’in clan to use it to their advantage. This meeting house was a neutral ground, holy in the same ways as a shrine; if you -a beautiful girl with just enough potential to guarantee a curse-user heir- were the consolation prize for owning property…

He doubted a man would turn down this deal.

“Can’t you just… say no?”

You scoffed and covered your chest, suddenly aware of your own nudity like Eve bit the apple.

“Not all of us are important, Satoru." 

Since childhood, Gojo had thought of you as normal. You were human, flesh and blood in the simplest, purest of ways, but that spark he had loved years ago had long been stamped out by the world. 

And Gojo hadn’t treated you much better. Teasing you through the years, claiming you as a ‘girlfriend’, never learning your name; it was like you were a doll, a simple plaything he could abandon here and return to only when he felt like it.

Geto flashed in his mind for a moment. He’d revel in the ways you saw yourself deserving of this.

Riko would have liked you, he thought. It was a shame you never got to meet.

The world shouldn’t be allowed to cannibalize both of you.

“You should go.”

You pulled away and watched him with wild, wild eyes. Gojo thought that, for the first time in his life, someone might be seeing more clearly than him.

“What?”

He gestured into the forest. The boundaries of it had disappeared into the night, forming a single neverending block. The whole world was in that nothingness, waiting for the night to end or for you to explore it.

"You should run and never, ever come back to this shithole.”

You didn’t even consider it, drawing back away from him.You clutched for your shirt, pulling it back on sloppily. 

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

“I can’t.” you press, “Where am I going to go? What am I going to do?”

He didn’t know the answer to that. It was possible you didn’t even have a proper education, let alone experience outside these walls. The human world wouldn’t be kind to you-

But this world never offered you any kindness either.

“I dunno,” he said, “But it’s gotta be better than staying."

.

The next morning, the buzz started before sunrise. The anger, followed by panic. For the first time maybe ever, he heard others call for you by name, searching every nook and cranny for a girl that had long disappeared. Your mother cried, but Gojo doubted the tears were really for you.

About midday, a dark haired man ducked into his room, wrinkles deepened in fury. 

“Have you seen that-” The stranger bit back a curse, “That maid?”

He said maid the same way Gojo used to, with unnecessary weight to the word. If he had less sense, Gojo would have corrected him, but instead he shrugged. 

“Why would I pay attention to a housekeeper?”

Luckily, the bra you had forgotten last night was tucked into his luggage already.

As tiny chaos unfurled, Gojo hung onto the memory of your figure disappearing into the night, only sparing him the smallest of glances before you were gone. 

That was the last time he’d ever see you, he knew. 

He was equally happy and horrified by that.

[novlr]

What are some ways to describe summer ?

Summer is not just a season; it’s a vibrant setting that can add life and color to your writing. Whether you’re crafting a sun-soaked romance or a beach thriller, the way you describe summer can immerse readers in your story. Let’s dive into how you can capture the essence of summer, focusing on the various senses and elements that make this season unique.

Sights

Sunsets that paint the sky in hues of orange, pink, and purple.

Children chasing ice cream trucks down suburban lanes.

Sunbathers dotting the coastline.

Sprinklers casting rainbows across freshly mowed lawns.

Flower gardens in full bloom, a riot of colours.

Sunglasses showing reflections of the bright world.

Sun hats and flip-flops scattered around pool decks.

Fireflies illuminating the night.

Street markets bustling with locals buying fresh produce.

Hikers on forest trails.

Sounds

The cacophony of cicadas in the late afternoon.

Waves crashing against the shore in a constant rhythm.

The sizzle and pop of barbecues in backyards.

Children’s laughter as they play outside.

Ice clinking in glasses of lemonade or cocktails.

The distant whirr of lawn mowers.

Splashes and shouts from swimming pools.

Chirping songbirds greeting the morning.

The crackle of bonfires during cool summer nights.

The melodic chimes of ice cream trucks roaming the streets.

Smells

The salty tang of sea air at the beach.

The overpowering scent of chlorinated pools.

Freshly cut grass after morning lawn care.

The scent of sunscreen and tanning oils on warm skin.

The smoky aroma of grills at a neighborhood cookout or family barbeque.

Fragrant blossoms like jasmine and roses in full bloom.

The earthy smell of rain on hot pavement.

The mix of fruits, vegetables, fried food, and flowers at an open-air market.

Melting tar with an accompanying heat shimmer on hot roads.

Campfire smoke clinging to clothes and hair during outdoor adventures.

Activities

Beach volleyball games, sand flying as players dive for the ball.

Leisurely picnics in the shade of ancient trees.

Hiking trips taking advantage of the long daylight hours.

Sailing and boating, the wind filling sails on sunlit waters.

Outdoor concerts, where music floats on the warm night air.

Road trips with car windows down, hair whipping in the wind.

Fruit picking in orchards and berry farms.

Camping under the stars, a tent and a sleeping bag for a home.

Water fights with hoses, water guns, and balloons.

Attending summer festivals full of food, music, and dance.

Character body language

Wiping sweat from the brow or fanning themselves to cool down.

Squinting against the harsh sunlight or seeking out spots of shade.

Sipping cold drinks, or gulping down water.

Lounging lazily, limbs relaxed and sprawled out.

Applying sunscreen meticulously.

Adjusting sunglasses or hats for better protection.

Dipping toes tentatively into the sea or a pool.

Tugging at clothes sticking to sweat-dampened skin.

Laughing with carefree abandon, a reflection of summer’s ease.

Turning pages of a paperback with fingers damp from pool water.

Positive descriptions

The liberating feeling of diving into cool water on a scorching day.

The tranquil peace of a sunrise beach yoga session.

The simple pleasure of ice cream melting on the tongue.

The bliss of a hammock nap swayed by a gentle breeze.

The joy of endless blue skies promising adventure.

The warmth of sun-kissed skin after a day outdoors.

The satisfaction of a well-tended garden coming to life.

The contentment of sharing a sunset with loved ones.

The thrill of catching the perfect wave while surfing.

The comfort of balmy evenings spent on porch swings.

Negative descriptions

The oppressive heat making the air feel thick and suffocating.

The relentless buzzing of mosquitoes on a muggy night.

The sting of sunburn after a day of neglecting sunscreen.

The frustration of packed tourist spots and overcrowded beaches.

The exhaustion induced by long days and sweltering heat.

The discomfort of air thick with humidity.

The annoyance of sand finding its way into every nook and cranny.

The disappointment of a rained-out picnic or canceled event.

The lethargy of a heatwave, energy sapped by the relentless sun.

The discomfort of trying to sleep in an overheated, uncooled room.

Helpful Adjectives

Scorching

Balmy

Sultry

Languid

Radiant

Dazzling

Parched

Breezy

Rippling

Sweltering

Sunny

Lush

Blistering

Tropical

Vibrant

Humid

Verdant

Golden

Glowing

Fragrant

Torrid

Tranquil

Crisp

Sizzling

Flaming

Steamy

Refreshing

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Lazy

Stifling

Invigorating

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Stuffy

Arid

Saturated

Juicy

Sunbaked

Fetid

#writing tips #writing asks #writers #creative writing #writing #writing community #writers of tumblr #creative writers #writing inspiration #writeblr #writerblr #writblr #writers corner #writers community #Tumblr writers #tips for writers #helping writers #resources for writers #writing reference #writer #writing advice #writing resources #writers on tumblr #writers block #how to write #writers and poets #writing tips and tricks #writing help #help for writers #advice for authors

[eggyrocks]

bites -> h. iwaizumi

now playing: the chamber pot was full by iris bilinsky

main masterlist

tags: iwaizumi x gn!reader, hurt/comfort

word count: 3.3k

warnings: illusions to childhood trauma, destructive coping mechanisms, unstable relationship, arguments, abandoment, death of a family member, language, 3rd person pov, they/them pronouns for reader, not proofread

minors dni & other rules

an: if no one else got me, i bet on losing dogs got me. can i get an amen

It’s easier to bite than it is to be bitten.

And when the first few years of your life leave you with angry, ragged bite marks all over your body, the imprints of familiar teeth disfiguring your skin, it’s something you learn quickly. You’d do anything to stop it. You’d present your neck in submission. You’d scatter at the sight of bared teeth. You’d eventually start biting back.

The train rocks them slightly, their shoulders drifting just a touch left, and then just a touch right. The low noises of the train pulling forwards on the track are blocked out by the headphones on their head, soft and sweet music in their ears. The sky is rich and dark, an empty basin untouched by the lights of skyscrapers and phone screens. It’s nice, almost. Peaceful.

They’re not quite used to the city yet, even though it’s been years. Sometimes, in the morning, when their mind is awake, but their eyes are still closed shut and the sunlight is turning their eyelids a bright orange, they’re afraid that they’re back home. That they will open their eyes and be there. Where it’s quieter, but the buzz of cicadas was constant. Back home, where every noise was a threat, and every threat made their spine curl inwards.

The noises of the city around them are their first comfort. Noise isn’t something to be feared, here. When they hear it, the voices of strangers and rumbling of the subway beneath them float up into their open window, they can finally open their eyes, and feel at ease.

Steadily, the train eases into a stop. Their eyes drift towards the sign, and note their stop is still further down the line, that they’re still nowhere near as close to home as they would like to be.

Today was their mother’s funeral. They didn’t go. They cried, and then felt like they had no right to. They drank a bottle of something that made their throat burn, and then hurled the glass bottle against the wall, just so they could watch it shatter. And when they left, not even bothering to lock the door behind them, the shards were still scattered across the hardwood floor, reflecting the sunlight that poured in through the window.

It's been a day of idling wandering. Of trying so desperately not to think of the one thing that has been on their mind. A day of trying to become numb. A fleshy and pliable mound of nothing, free of bite marks, unbothered by the cicadas.

Their body is tired and their mind worn, eyes red and puffy, cheeks stained with tears. They just want to go home. To step over the glass and wake up to noise and pretend that their mother isn’t dead or alive, but just a faded, blurry memory that could be real, or might not be.

Vibrations from their pocket drag them out of their thoughts. They clear their throat as if they’re going to speak, but they know they’re not going to answer. It doesn’t matter who’s calling. There’s nothing they need to say.

Hajime.

They sniffle and clear their throat again. And then, they place their phone back in their pocket, letting it ring, hoping that he will give up after he gets their voicemail the first time.

When they first met Iwaizumi Hajime, they had a school uniform and a bag full of contraband. Loose stolen cigarettes, water bottles filled with clear alcohol, a handful of lighters that could barely produce a flame.

It was dark, and classes had let out hours ago, but yet they lingered. Wandering on campus, trying not to be seen by anyone else that might still be lingering. The wind kept blowing out the lighter, and they were struggling to keep the tip of the cigarette red. They leaned up against the outside of a building, focused on the heat on the tips of their fingers.

“What are you doing?”

They didn’t flinch. Getting caught never made them flinch. They were used to it, at this point. Used to being the delinquent, the one always in trouble. The one who caused problems. What was one more issue. What was another problem. They turned their head to face the person who called out, lip already furled up in a snarl.

It was some relief to them to see that it wasn’t anyone of authority. Not really. Just two dickheads from one of their sports teams. They recognized one. Oikawa Tooru. Pretty and imposing, adored by all. It was impossible not to know who he was, even if you tried. And they tried.

The second one, they didn’t recognize. The only thing they remember about him from that night is how they looked at them. Frowning slightly, head tilted. Not looking disgusted like his friend did. Not looking scared or worried or uncomfortable like all the other looks they were used to getting. He looked at them in a way that was unfamiliar. In a way that made them take a step back.

They had fixed their glare on Oikawa. “None of your fucking business,” they called back to him, voice as nasty as it always was, and lighter finally catching the end of their cigarette, tip cherried.

There was this look Oikawa gave them. One that made them want to snarl and snap their jaw like a dog. One that told them so clearly that he thought he was better than them. That he was a figure of superiority, and they were filth to him.

He didn’t say anything else, though. His friend nudged him with an elbow and gave him one look. Then they were off, walking away as if nothing had happened. As if they heard none of your fucking business and accepted it earnestly.

And they were relieved to be alone again.

They had noticed pretty quickly, though, that the friend, the one with the look, was hard to avoid after that. He didn’t say anything to them, not for a while. But he kept an eye on them. Head turning to look at them in class, not bothering with discretion. He always found them after classes, hiding somewhere on campus.

Eventually, they learned his name. Eventually, he started asking if he could walk them home. Iwaizumi asked seven times before they said yes.

Their eyes were on the ground, watching Iwaizumi’s stride, and how it matched with theirs. Their hand gripped tightly on the strap of their bag. “Why’d you want to walk me home so bad?” they had asked, breaking a long stretch of silence.

Iwaizumi shrugged. He didn’t look at them. “I don’t know. I just want to. No harm to it, so just let me, alright?”

So they did.

Every night, after they avoided going home for as long as possible and Iwaizumi was sweaty and out of breath from practice, they walked home. He would always stand back and watch as they opened the door and closed it behind them. Then, Iwaizumi would turn around and walk back in the direction they came from.

Iwaizumi became a lot of things to them. Too many to list off. It was overwhelming to think about, sometimes. They way that he became so intwined with their life that it was hard to remember what it was like before he was in it.

He made life easier, for them. Iwaizumi would laugh and it would make them smile. They woke up in the morning and their first thought was not to listen for the potential creak of footsteps outside of their door, but it was of Iwaizumi and his crooked grin and the way his voice sounded over the phone. And when things got hard, they would close their eyes and grit their teeth and endure, thinking of how it would all be okay once they could sneak out the window and slip into Iwaizumi’s.

His fingers were running along their scalp, weaving between the roots of their hair and a thin line of spit connected their lips. It broke when he opened his mouth to say, “I love you,” for the first time.

At the time, I love you didn’t seem like enough. Because Iwaizumi was more than just someone to love. He made breathing easier. He dragged his teeth along the skin of their neck and left bite marks that meant something new. They said it back in a voice that sounded like a strangers, and they meant it. But it never felt like enough. Not for Iwaizumi.

And then, after two years of a love that felt like it took up all the air in the room, he left. Iwaizumi left.

They weren’t mad. It wasn’t anger or rage. It was this heartbreak that felt like nausea. This cramping, pounding pain in the chest that doubled them over, that made them shake. This desperation to cling to him and this internal begging to him, to the universe, to anyone, for it to not be true. For him to stay, by their side, where they thought he was supposed to be.

But it was true. Iwaizumi was leaving. Going to a different country without them. Going to live a different life without them. Going to become a new person without them. And it didn’t matter how sweetly he delivered the news, how he held onto them as he did. It didn’t make it hurt less.

Hurt dogs bite. They snap their jaws out of fear of getting hurt worse. And that was all they were ever taught to do.

He’s been back for over a year, now. Living in the same city as them. Orbiting the same circles as them. Iwaizumi’s different now. They’re different now. But it didn’t take long after his return for them to collide again. In bars. In coffee shops. In rooms with locked doors.

Every time they do, they feel like they can forgive him for leaving. When they’re deep into the night together or there’s alcohol in their veins or Iwaizumi’s kissing them like he used to. It’s in those moments they feel like they can be together, like they were. But then when their thoughts get clearer and the sun rises, they remember how the abandonment felt, and how they never truly got over it. They remember how they could never, ever forget, and certainly could not forgive. And they bite.

The train stops again. The doors open, and no one steps off. No one steps on. Iwaizumi left a voicemail. They don’t listen. They don’t want to hear his voice. But they look at the transcription of his words. Where are you? Please call me. Don’t do this, okay? Please.

When he calls again, they swipe the notification away, determined to ignore him, determined not to find comfort in him again. The tip of their thumb hits taps on their messages, scrolling through their dozens of unread texts. They have some from Iwaizumi, which they ignore. There’s plenty from distant relatives, grandparents, siblings. They’re full of admonishments and curses and lectures.

Some are nice, from friends, some acquaintances, wishing them well and giving awkward, unsure condolences. They have one from Oikawa.

9:12 PM: Stop doing this to him.

It was always up and down with Oikawa. He never thought them worthy enough of Iwaizumi and was always quick to point out their mistakes and flaws and issues. But they would always remember the night Oikawa had drunkenly confessed to them after Iwaizumi’s return that he hopes it works out for the both of them. That Iwaizumi was better with them around. That they just need to get their shit together.

They sigh and pocket their phone again. It did little to help.

For the rest of the ride, they ignored the constant calls from Iwaizumi, and let the voicemails pile up, until there was no more space for them.

He’d given up by the time they reached their stop, and the sun had fully dipped behind the horizon. They step out of the station and onto the street, one song playing on a loop, and walk lazily back towards their apartment. It’s an early summer night, the air pleasant, not too sticky with humidity. They can feel the substances drain from their veins as they start to gain some sense of clarity.

Their shoulders are drooped and feet dragging by the time they reach their front door. Sloppily, they push their key in, missing the first two times, before they push their hip into the door, ready to stumble into bed and sleep so long they forget about the fact that their mother is dead.

Once they stagger into the kitchen, though, they freeze. He’s there. Iwaizumi is there, one hand holding a trash bag, the other pressing a phone to his ear. “-yeah, no I’ll call you back. They just got here.”

He hangs up then, slipping his phone into the pocket of his jeans. They stand there, frozen at the sight of him. There’s no shattered glass bottle on the floor. There’s no stains of alcohol on the wall. There is just Iwaizumi, exhausted.

Before they can even full process his presence, he’s dropping the trash bag on the ground and walking towards them, arms extending and pulling them tightly into his chest. And it’s in his embrace, suddenly encased in a familiar warmth and smell, that they snap back into reality. They squirm, palms of their hands pressed flat against his chest and shoving him away. “What are you doing?” they ask, step back and away from him.

Iwaizumi lets go, and he looks at them. The same look he had on the first night they had ever seen him, back in high school. It’s one that they’ve gotten used to over the years. Curiosity and concern. Iwaizumi wears the urge to protect them the same as he always has. “Where have you been?” he asks, voice hoarse and worn. “I’ve been trying to reach you all day.”

They toss their keys on to their countertop. “Don’t worry about it,” they dismiss, turning their back on him and opening the refrigerator, eyes scanning for an unopened bottle of alcohol. Whatever kind will work. They’re just feeling too sober.

But Iwaizumi is a step behind them, and he juts his knee into the fridge, closing the door. They turn again, arms crossed and glaring to see that he is glaring right back down at them. “What’s your problem today?” they demand, aggravated, aggressive.

“Don’t do this,” Iwaizumi pleads, trying to keep his own frustrations clear from his tone. “Not today. Just let me be here for you.”

They scoff, and roll their eyes, opening the fridge once more, swooping down to snatch up and can of beer before Iwaizumi closes it once more. “Just so you can leave again in the morning?”

It’s mean. It’s unnecessary. But they can’t help it. It comes naturally to them, to throw it back in his face in a moment like this. They don’t know why they do it. They don’t get any sense of satisfaction when the words hit his face, when they make it drop. It just twists their gut in this awful sort of way.

The can of beer opens with a hiss, and they take a hefty gulp. Iwaizumi watches, and balls his hands into fists by his side. “Drinking’s only going to make it worse,” he warns, voice thick. It only earns another scoff from them, and Iwaizumi takes a step closer to them. They take a step away, their back hitting the counter behind them.

“What are you doing here?” they ask, holding the can of beer in front of their lips, using it as a barrier between them and Iwaizumi’s words.

“No one knew where you were,” he tells them, strained. “I’ve been trying to figure out where you went and what the fuck happened all day.”

They shrug. “I went out. I dunno.”

He’s unimpressed. “Did you got to the funeral?” he asks.

The words make them flinch. It makes them uneasy to hear those words spoken aloud. “No. Did you?”

Iwaizumi frowns. He hated their mother. He’s always hated her. He wouldn’t honor her in life and he wouldn’t honor her in death. “No. Where were you all day?”

“Why’s it fucking matter?”

Iwaizumi inhales. They can see the breath rise and fall in his broad shoulders. “Cut the shit, okay? I’m sick of it,” he snaps. “You’re really starting to piss me off with this. Stop acting like people don’t care about you. Stop acting like I don’t care about you. I do care about you and it makes me fucking worried when you just disappear-“

“You disappeared,” they remind him, pointing a finger against the center of his chest. “You left me, and you weren’t worried about me then, so you don’t get to be worried now.”

He shakes his head. “I was worried. I never stopped worrying. Being away from you fucking sucked for me too,” he insists, trying to keep a control on the volume of his voice, but it wavers.

They cry when they’re angry. They can’t help it. They hate it. It makes them feel weak and emotional. But their throat gets tight and their eyes prick and they just can’t stop themself. “It sucked for you but it was hell for me! I was stuck with her and all I wanted was you and if I couldn’t have you, then I just wanted to hear your voice but you never fucking called!” they erupt, leaning in closer to him now, face hot and tears spilling.

Their voice shakes. They’ve argued, they’ve danced around the subject. They reminded Iwaizumi of how he left. But this is the first time they’ve said anything more about it, and the worst twist in their chest.

“You abandoned me,” they continue. “Once when you got on the plane and then again when you acted like I didn’t exist. I used to wait up all night for a phone call from you.”

Iwaizumi blinks. “I didn’t think you wanted to hear from me,” he admits, voice lower now. “I thought you hated me.”

They did hate him. They hated him and they loved him all at once. “I still hate you,” they say, and it’s half-true. “I hate you,” they choke out. It’s half a sob, and they slump back against the counter. “I hate you.”

Iwaizumi leans closer, placing his hands on counter on either side of them, caging them in. “I love you,” he says, plainly, like it’s a fact. And they shake their head, crossing their arms over their chest, trying to deny it. Iwaizumi lifts a hand and takes their chin between his thumb and his finger. He makes them look him in the eye. “I love you.”

And they feel so stuck. Because they want to push him away and kick him out and delete his number and never, ever give him the chance to leave them ever again. They never want to feel the way they felt when Iwaizumi disappeared from their life.

But they want so badly to be loved by him again, and to love him again. He’s offering it to them, leaning in closer to his forehead rests against theirs, and they’re not sure they have the self-discipline to deny him. “I love you,” he whispers again. “I don’t care if you hate me. I’ll always love you.”

It’s then that they can’t hold back the sobs any longer. It all just becomes too much. The drop the can of beer, still almost full, and it fizzes and spills all over the floor. Neither one of them seems to notice, as they lean forward, pressing their face into Iwaizumi’s neck as their cries rock through them. Iwaizumi is steady, like he always is, arms tight around their back, holding them up, like he always did.

And at least for now, that is enough for them.

an: omg this was kinda corny but also i kinda love it lmao. VERY DIFFERENT FROM WHAT I USUALLY POST HERE SO I AM NERVOUS !! if u made it this far pls tell me what u think <333 reblogs are appreicated!

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq x reader #hq x you #hq #hq x y/n #hq x gender neutral reader #haikyuu iwaizumi #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x imagines #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #iwaizumi haijime x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x you #hq iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime x gn reader #iwaizumi x gn reader #iwaizumi x gender neutral reader #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumi x reader angst

[inkweaver22-blr]

Happy Birthday @animemoonprincess!!! We don't talk much but I admire your writing a whole lot! While the whole thing isn't done yet, here's an excerpt from the next chapter of Scattered Cicadas that takes place in my favorite AU of yours! Thanks for being an inspiration!

----------

“Did you know MK has a membership at The Cloud?” Wukong pulled out a couple of digital tablets. “Apparently, that makes his phone something called a ‘hotspot’ that allows any device he authenticates to access it. He helped me download a bunch of books onto these earlier. They even have audio versions!”

“Well that’s convenient,” Tang said as he accepted one of the tablets. “I suppose we should get started then.”

“That’s the plan,” Wukong said, plugging in some earbuds into the audio port of his tablet.

“Tang! Monkey King!”

“Or not,” Wukong sighed at Mei’s shout.

“We’re over here, Mei,” Tang called back.

“Something weird is happening to MK!” Mei’s voice sounded somewhat panicked. “Come quick!”

The pair shared a worried glance before rushing back towards the clearing. They followed Mei to the other side of the airship where they found everyone else fretting over MK.

“MK! Are you okay? What’s going on?” Tang looked over the young man. Outside of some leaves in his hair he seemed perfectly fine.

“I think so? I don’t feel strange,” MK said.

“What happened,” Wukong asked.

“Well, Mei and I were throwing leaves at each other when Red Son snuck up and shoved some down the back of Mei’s jacket.” MK smiled. “It was really funny the way she squealed and-” MK snickered.

As he did, he began to faintly glow with a yellow-orange light.

“And then that happened,” Pigsy finished as MK tried to get his mirth under control. “Except much brighter.”

“Is that all? I thought this would be something serious,” Wukong said as the tension eased from him. “Don’t worry, nothing’s wrong with him.”

“Then what’s happening?”

“Congrats, bud, your powers are finally starting to recharge!”

“Really?! Yes!” MK let out a whoop and jumped up and down in celebration.

“So… Is this permanent or just a sign of his powers returning,” Red Son asked.

“Permanent. Honestly surprised it took this long for this one to show up.”

“Well as long as it’s not hurting him it should be fine,” Tang said. He blinked as something occurred to him. “Wait, does that mean you glow when you laugh, Wukong?”

The Monkey King froze.

“Uh…”

“No way.” Tang felt a grin creeping up on his face. “You do, don’t you?”

“I- Uh- Well-”

“What’s all the commotion about,” Macaque asked as he joined the group.

“Oh look! Macaque’s back from his patrol! I guess someone should replace him! I volunteer! See you later!”

Tang grabbed Wukong by the back of his shirt before he could slip away. Wukong quickly twisted in response, shrugging the shirt off and darting towards the treeline.

“Macaque glows when he laughs too!” With that last shout over his shoulder he vanished into the trees.

“What?!” Macaque stepped back as all eyes turned to him. He gulped at the positively devious intent radiating from Mei and MK. "Traitorous bastard,” he growled before stepping into the shadows cast by the airship and vanishing.

“We’re totally getting those two to laugh as much as possible now, right?” Mei’s grin was full of mischief.

Tang chuckled and rubbed his paws together in anticipation.

The next few weeks were certainly going to be… enlightening.

#animemoonprincess #Giggle Glow AU #Scattered Cicadas #Monkie Kid #HAPPY BIRTHDAY

[blueparadis]

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 —» ❝BABY, I'M THE REASON WHY HELL'S SO HOT ❞. [ ❤︎ ] featuring Hawks, Dabi, Aizawa, Tengen, Sanemi, Rengoku.

[ § ] — › Parties were never your forte but when your boyfriend mentioned it is nothing but a “go as you like” party you could not resist, especially when they pleaded that they will do anything to go to the Halloween party.

+. LU$TOBER MASTERLIST+ PART OF HAPPY HALLOWEEN COLLAB | NAVIGATION LINKS.

[ CWs ] — › female anatomy, mention of alcohol, power play, ROLEPLAY,s/d dynamics, sensory deprivation, mild knife play (sensational play), f&m orals, overstimulation, unprotected, voyeurism, bondage, consensual somnophilia, delayed orgasm, creampie, sacrilege kink.

HAWKS ( KEIGO TAKAMI )

— PIRATE & PRINCESS !

This year the party was not held at any of the penthouses he had. It was rather on outdoors and maybe he did it to get rid of your boredom but Keigo did not think you would be able to exceed his expectations.

You have always been sneaky when it came to parties and gatherings while Keigo has always been a great fan of quickies. Certainly, like all the other parties you two ended up being alone; not only that he even managed to get you on his lap, with his cock sheathed inside you. It was not risky but not safe either.

The treehouse was supposed to be a mere plaything for children, but he was desperately touching and kissing all over your body. The area was away from the main camping ground, full of decorations and treehouses scattered here and there and hence perfectly engulfed in silence. The only sound audible was the shrill cry of cicadas, the muffling moans escaping from your lips, and the suckling noises as Hawks was busy easing your restlessness.

"Kei...what if someone might come?", you drawl out quickly trying to get rid of his firm hold off your wrists. Your hands were held at the middle of your waistline having your boobs on the display. The gusts of wind at intervals were lacing your skin with goosebumps, hardening your nipples while his soft lips continued to pepper kisses on your collar bones.

"I just need you to cum on my cock, just one more time, alright? and mmmgh, then, and then we'll go back to the party.", he said that before and made you cum before having his cock inside you. Now, he wants to do it again. With your body half exposed and his lips exploring your skin have already made you desperate, enough to carelessly fuck him right here with him bottoming you out. "Then, let me ...mmgh, let me just move a little.", you whisper. He lets his grip go loose and you instantly start to glide against his cock.

"As you wish, princess.", he rasps advancing his hands over your pussy to rub your folds, to make you cum faster. You want to cum, you want to feel his cock deep inside you, his fat tip hitting your sweet spot but you are not loose enough to take him in. “Need my help, princess ?”, he drawls in clamping his hands under your thighs as he leaves the seat.

You gasp as he pushes the rest half of the cock inside you while you curl your hands around his shoulders. He stars to make you bob on his cock up and down, sweat glistening both of your skin and his temporary skull tattoo on his collar bone that he got for his costume. You licked his tattoo while he jammed inside you with broad strokes, both of your thighs quivering, groans overlapping, your nails digging on his back, eyes rolling white as his cum seeps inside you.

He lets you down pumping his cock before zipping his pants. You look at him with droopy eyes, cooing in a sloppy voice, “Lets just stay a little longer.” to which he chuckles exclaiming that he wants it too. After all he stole you for himself from the party, living up to his role.

DABI ( TOUYA TODOROKI )

— INMATE & OFFICER !

You should have known better than that, better than choosing such a body-hugging outfit to wear as for an inmate. The metal cuffs were supposed to be hanging from Touya's belt, but it was not rather it was around your slim wrists. He even tucked the cuff over a hook on the wall that has left your hands hanging for a while.

Touya was standing a few inches apart from you. If you inclined towards him for a kiss, he would have moved away and that would do nothing but provoke him more. He was already playing with you, unbuttoning your shirt slowly, letting his knuckle graze accidentally.

“Now that my hands are free . . . I can play with you more.", he chimed as his hands pulled down the pants having you naked. At first, he was slow and soft, playing with your boobs squeezing them, kissing them, and biting them. But when you bucked up your hips he was tempted to have more of you and luckily for you he gave in to the temptation.

Curling one of his hands around your waist making you arch your body against his, while the other arm was aiding the pooling heat in between your legs. He wanted you; like the way he had you every time: with his cock in your mouth cumming down your throat but your soft moans and gasps made him deviate this time.

His fingers were already thrusting exploring those gummy walls. "Keep it down", he whispered when you started to gasp and moan a little louder. "I . . . can't … ahAh!", you direly protested as his fingers were rashly moving up and down inside your folds. But you did not want to disobey him so your lips latched on to his collar bones sucking desperately as he finger-fucked you.

Your bite grew stronger as you were approaching your high, muffled moans and bold groans filling the room until he backed away having you gasping and quivering. "You came. . . hmmm . . . ", he remarked to which you looked at him with droopy eyes blowing a kiss in his direction. "Oh yes! officer.", you cooed.

AIZAWA SHOUTA

— DOCTOR & NURSE !

Aizawa was not really on board with the idea of going to the party, especially as a doctor and you as a nurse. It was a punishment for him to see you roaming around in those tight short skirts that sometimes gave a glimpse of your red panty when you crossed your legs one over the other. He had to tear his gaze away otherwise he would have definitely got a boner and with all the guests around, he was not in a mood to make it obvious by dragging you to a different room and fuck you witless. Now that he was home again, he can have fun with you all he wants. He casually walks up to you as if he is unbothered by your barely-clad body. He noticed how your skin got goosebumps when he was standing close to your body, one move and he could have you pinned against the wall, touch you everywhere. Just thinking about it makes your head all dizzy.

"No, no no, look at me when I touch you there.", you immediately glance at him trying to fight off the exhaustion. The booze was really strong which made your senses weak and lithe. "So, all this for me?", he asked rubbing your pussy lips. You bit your lower lip humming feeling his fingers penetrating into your entrance. If only you were not drunk and exhausted you could have handled this differently.

Aizawa's lips ghosted yours as his hands swiftly made you sit on the desk, his work desk. Probably it was a costume accessory, it must be: he took out the scalpel and began to run the tip of it over your white shirt, along your h chest, circling around your pebbled nipples barely touching yet igniting your skin on fires. One by one the buttons were gone, and you were panting heavily. You tried to cling to his body but he immediately held your hands pinning them over your head.

"Do you know how hard it was? for me to watch you in that short costume?", you could barely hum now. It was not just exhaustion and alcohol, it was his fingers, constantly rubbing your folds up and down, pinching your bud, grazing his wet fingers onto your inner thigh. "Please, just get it over with", you mewled like a creature. You did not even try to fight back. You knew his grip was strong enough to mark your wrists.

You looked at him with heavy eyelids and with your arms being immobile you inclined your head a little and he took your lips in his. When you heard his soft groans and moans, you knew it was your win. His grip became loose and that is when you pressed your lips to his tightly, enough to let the grip go. "You really thought you'd win with such a party trick?", he whispers pressing your hands again.

TENGEN UZUI

— MASTER AND MAID !

“Just the tip,” Tengen coos slowly gliding the tip of his cock along your entrance. "Please", he adds but all he gets is a little crescent of your lips. And how can you say no to that? But at the same time, you knew his pattern. You were used to it. He never pulls out in time and always says just the tip yet ends up slapping his balls against your skin until he fills you. You would have let him have his way but the timing was bad.

He has you on your back sprawled out on the dinner table, the very dinner table that needs to be prepared before the guests arrive. Your legs spread wide enough to accommodate his wide torso and the monochrome frills of your maid dress clustered underneath your breasts. Tengen grabs your things spreading them more, rasping, "Decide faster baby", and slides in, just the tip of his cock, coating it with your slick. "But it's almost time", you wince at the feeling of being stretched.

"Yep. that's why I SAID JUST THE TIP", Tengen taps his cock on your pussy that is leaking with your warm arousal. “Yo-you said just the tip,” you whimper, closing your thighs around his torso, not sure if you want to pull him closer or push him away. Tengen towers over you, his face almost close to your pebbled nipples. "But you always take me so well.", he whispers sucking your nipples harshly diverting your attention as he pushes his cock up to the girth in one broad thrust. You arch with a screaming gasp feeling his balls against your skin hands grabbing his black suit. Watching you arch in ache he quickly pulls you against his body, making you sit on the table as his hands rest on your waistline. Your breathing is still irregular as you try to adjust to a position where it won't hurt.

Tengen's sturdy fingers traveled along your inner things rubbing circles before squeezing at intervals. You look at him with lust-filled eyes as you run your hands from the back of your nape to your boobs, massaging them, pinching your nipples watching him being surprised at your response. "Yes, master I'm always ready for you," Tengen smirks before he just sucks your lips while he tears apart your maid outfit.

SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA

— PRIEST & NUN !

This would not have happened if you had agreed to his suggestions, that is, get over with this boring party so that you both could have fun. You did not want that, you wanted to enjoy your role and the feeling of soft fabric on your skin. You mentioned how charming that necklace that was hanging on your bosom was. Now, here you are sprawled out on the bed with your hands above your head, your dress clustered over your head.

The costume makes it better since Sanemi did not pull the dress out, and being a full-sleeved dress hugged your wrists tightly, making your hands immobile. "You still can have fun after this?", Sanemi rasped as he rammed into your hole. The room was filled with your moans and the slapping of his balls against your feminity.

For him, he was enjoying the view. With your boobs at the display, those pebbled nipples that begged to be marked, and the way your tummy twitched at every sharp thrust he wanted to fill your tummy with his seed.

But his attention was on a different thing, in between your boobs, on your cleavage, where the crucifix pendant was glistening in sweat while his pendant was dangling against yours.

Sanemi has always been a multitasker, he wanted to suck your nipples hard enough to make your eyes water but with every broad thrust of his cock into your pussy, he was enjoying the rhythm of the pendant in between your whimpers.

RENGOKU KYOJURO

— JOKER AND HARLEY QUINN !

“Do you know how sexy you look with those ponytails?”, Kyojuro drawls running his fingers up and down your back while you try to keep your heavy eyelids apart to keep yourself falling asleep. It is not exhaustion it is the pill that your boyfriend gave you. He is nice and really takes good care of you.

You think he can't harm you in any way, that is why you love him with every heart tissue. “and you don't look scary.”, you murmur against his ears as his golden gaze scans your puffy lips. He rubs your lower lip asking, "not even a little bit...hmm?", to which you respond him by sucking his thumb.

Tengen has noticed how you have started to become fidgety and leaves the room but not without locking the door behind him. Kyojuro smirks at his behavior. With his two sets of fingers he checks how wet you're murmuring softly against your cheeks,

"Looks like you can take me. . .", he licks your juices off his slick wet fingers exclaiming lazily, "all this for me huh?" and all you could manage to do was to chuckle at his remark. The next thing you felt was his cock inside you his strong hefty arms wrapping underneath your boob line, as he sloppily cuddle-fucks you.

Your body jolts when he grabs your boobs and says, "You think all these is just a dream? makes me happy baby", ending with a kiss on your sweaty neckline as you moan and hum feeling his cock twitch inside you thinking this will be over the moment you open your eyes. And now that you're vividly awake you could feel the stickiness in between your legs.

"Still not scary?", Kyojuro asks. You smile at him swinging your head, "I don't know". That's right! you don't know, you don't know what that smirk meant when he kissed you whispering, "Good Job baby", he likes those innocent looks in your eyes that suggest how much you believe in him , how much he can fuck you till you realize his madness for you.

"Kyo, let's try something else for next time!", you chime when he takes you in his arms so that he can clean you thoroughly. He just smiles thinking how lucky he is to find his Harley Quinn.

network — @tokyometronetwork

#mha smut #kny smut #bnha smut #demon slayer smut #smut #hawks smut #dabi smut #touya smut #aizawa smut #tengen smut #sanemi smut #rengoku smut #tengen uzui smut #rengoku kyoujuro smut #kimetsu no yaiba smut #keigo takami smut #kny headcanons #mha headcanons #mha hcs #bnha headcannons #bnha hcs #my hero academia smut #aizawa shouta smut #kny x you #mha x you #bnha x you #demon slayer x you #kny x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader

[lovemeafterhrs]

make me stay

don’t make no mistakes, you can’t have your way.

fuck that shit you think, you can’t make me stay.

satoru gojo x sorcerer! reader

part two of one night only

word count: 7.5k

MDNI!!

warnings: plot with more porn, blood/gore (fist-fighting to distract from obvious sexual tension), unprotected marathon sex, my love my light brat tamer! gojo

listen along:

the kyoto campus was eerily silent, even after the students had returned from the exchange event. cicadas chirped loudly outside, singing in the hot and humid air.

she was downright pissed off, approaching seething as she paced through the empty classroom. her mood had gone entirely sour as she looked at the items scattered across her desk. it was just like him to show up and create a gigantic mess, and then disappear before he had a chance to clean it up. she sighed and fixed the trinkets that had fallen over in their haste moments prior. she let out a loud scoff as she noticed the paperwork scattered all over the floor. she decided to ignore the fact that her legs were still trembling.

there was no fucking way she just let satoru get exactly what he wanted. she’d been holding out on him for ages, and now she was even more upset that she’d let him break her down in the first place. because now she wanted him. bad. she needed him. and there was nothing she detested more than relying on that jackass for anything.

she stared down at the debrief for the mission she’d been assigned; one she had originally planned on passing up. now, she felt that blowing off some steam would probably be beneficial. she’d canceled the date she planned that night, too guilty to face the man she’d been seeing after letting satoru touch her. she frowned when her brain reminded her that even if she had gone on that date, he wouldn’t have been anything like satoru. she used to think that was a good thing, but now she wasn’t so sure. there was a reason that she hadn’t let him get that close before, and now it was nagging at her rather aggressively.

she didn’t want anyone that badly, especially not him. she knew better than that. getting with him was quite possibly the worst idea to ever exist, and numerous women could attest to his unwillingness to commit to them. he was charismatic and terrifyingly handsome, but anything besides sex was a danger to the people around him. she knew that, and yet her brain was spinning with thoughts about him.

she frowned, dropping bandages and antiseptic wipes into her small purse. she was a sorcerer first, she reminded herself. she just needed to continue her work and forget that the last few hours even happened.

“heading out for the mission early?” utahime questioned, and her head poked through the door as she watched the girl pack her bag. “i thought you were going to pawn that off on an underclassman. didn’t you say something about it not being worth the effort of someone of your grade?”

“i was going to use it as a teaching opportunity, but i changed my mind. need to clear my head.” she shrugged, trying her best to seem indifferent about the situation. she was hoping that utahime would take her change of heart at face value, but the dark-haired woman simply raised an eyebrow at her words.

“oh. gojo show up while we were gone?” her coworker’s question was like a punch to the gut, and she visibly shrank.

“yup. how’d you know?”

“his cursed energy was gone for about an hour, i figured he’d be pissed you skipped out. shoko was flipping shit. i thought it was pretty funny.” she could imagine the scene that utahime was describing, and it put a small smile on her face.

“that’s an understatement. she probably kicked his ass for ditching her with his students.” she chuckled at the thought, hoping that his long-time friend had given him the third degree after his disappearing act. she could practically see shoko yelling across the grass, trying to track down the illusive white-haired man.

“i hope so. bastard deserves it.” utahime agreed, nodding along as she took a seat in one of the student’s chairs.

“true that. now, wish me luck on my perilous journey. tell me you’ll be praying for me when i take out that grade two.” that earned a frown from her fellow teacher, unenthused by her teasing tone.

“gross, you sound just like him. now go, before gakuganji sees you leave early.” she’s practically shooed out the door by the smaller woman, trying to keep her under the radar of their hard ass of a boss. “oh, and good luck, i guess.”

the signature horn of the train could be heard in the distance, and she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding in. she was thankful to have a moment of silence, even if she had to tear a cursed spirit to pieces to achieve it. she needed to find some sense of clarity and forget about the way satoru’s lips felt between her thighs.

as she caught sight of the manor, she let out a long sigh. the walk to the forest had not been pleasant, but the scenery was something to remember.

she had hoped that she’d be able to distract herself from the carnal need pooling in her gut, and an easy mission would do the trick. at least for an hour or two.

it was rather unfortunate that satoru had thought the same thing, snatching a file folder off the desk in yaga���s office. he had to do something, anything to take his mind off what he just did to himself. it was pure torment for him to get so close to finally fucking her, just for his efforts to crash into the dirt. he cursed shoko for not covering for him and cursed himself for taking his sweet fucking time. he could’ve gotten her off three times in the time he’d spent dragging out their little display, but he had unfortunately been thinking with his dick instead of his brain.

he thumbed through the paperwork, recognizing the address of the cursed site almost immediately. not too far, with a cushy hotel nearby.

perfect.

he dropped the file back on the desk with little care and nodded to himself. he loved when a plan appeared right before his eyes, and he had a little smile on his face as he walked out of his boss’s office.

he thought back to when he arrived back in tokyo, faced immediately with shoko’s defeated expression.

“no no you don’t understand shoko, i got so close!” he whined, putting his head in his hands as he followed her down the hallway. he had to wait an embarrassingly long time for the situation in his pants to die down before he trailed his way to her office to complain. as soon as he arrived she was walking out the door, needing a cigarette if she was going to put up with his incessant whining.

“no you didn’t, dickhead.” her reply was curt and to the point, heels clicking against the concrete as they traveled outside.

“but-“ he started, and shoko scoffed.

“shush! i don’t want to hear it. is there anything else you could talk about? i’ve been hearing the same bullshit since high school.” ieiri was growing rather tired of his persistence after years of complaining about the same thing. setting him up with other girls didn’t help, and distracting him with perilous missions didn’t work either. he couldn’t deny that he loved the chase. perhaps that was why he often made himself look so stupid when it came to the one person he couldn’t have.

“so rude! i wish you hadn’t started calling, i was kind of in the middle of something.” she had practically batted him away with her free hand, a headache already forming as she took another drag.

“let it go, gojo! it’s never going to happen!” she called out, and he flipped her off as he walked back through the doors of the school.

that’s actually how he had ended up in yaga’s office, bored out of his mind and peeking through information he had no business knowing. he was nearly in the clear when he suddenly heard the unimpressed words of the boy he raised.

“you look like you’re going out to cause trouble.” megumi stated, his tone flat. his sudden presence scared the shit out of his caretaker, and that caused the younger man to stare at him with a confused look plastered across his face. “what’s wrong with you?”

“wow. thanks for the concern towards your father figure, megumi. you’re right, though. i’ll be back before class on monday.” satoru replied, a sarcastic smile on his face as he offered the boy a peace sign before turning away.

“i think i’ve got it this time. mark my words!” he heard satoru yelling across the courtyard and frowned.

“wait, don’t do anything stupid!” he tried to call out to him, but gojo’s long legs had already carried him out of sight.

“he gets so dumb when he’s desperate.” he grumbled, remembering the many times he’d done something similar. it would always end the same, with him coming home defeated after hours of relentless flirting. he felt bad for her, truly. he didn’t know her well, but he knew that she didn’t deserve his unending pestering.

megumi sighed and watched his teacher disappear into the night. he didn’t know what was up with him, but he knew it was nothing good. it never was, knowing him.

satoru had decided to take the train instead of simply warping to his destination, and he marveled at the expansive treeline as he barrelled toward the cursed site. the sun had just started to set over the sky, casting everything in beautiful rose hues. he looked down at the comically large map he’d been carrying, and the train came to a stop.

it was just too perfect, he mused. he’d be able to kill her assignment and have a hotel room ready for her when she showed up the next day. he’d gotten so close before, he could do it again. right?

the walk to the abandoned house was peaceful until he was about twenty yards away.

a grin stretched over his features when he heard explosions in the distance and the screeches of a cursed spirit roaring through the trees.

it seemed someone had already beat him to it, and he bounced his way through the forest as he looked out for her trademark head of hair.

so what if he had broken into his boss’s office, and sifted through the file folder of the kyoto branch’s missions to find the one she’d been tasked with? it was just the luck of the draw that she happened to get there early, ruining his attempts to kill the damned thing and weasel his way into her hotel room the next day.

he paused when he reached a clearing in the treeline, and his smirk grew as he watched her rise from the dirt. her hair was up, and she had dirt caked on the platform boots she was currently using to kick the everloving shit out of the cursed spirit in front of her. he leaned against the tree, watching her spin the poor spirit around in circles.

she’s taunting it. he hummed to himself and watched her choice to rely on hand-to-hand combat. he’d only see her up so close and personal when she was really pissed off. if he wasn’t damn near unkillable he’d be concerned for his safety. instead the whole ordeal was kind of turning him on.

he could see the cursed energy coming off of her in waves, but she had left that power completely untapped as she continued dodging and weaving around the sharp claws of the corpse in front of her.

“i gotta say, that’s fucking hot.” his voice carried through the clearing, and her steps faltered. the cursed spirit used this opportunity to fling her across the grass, and her head narrowly missed a tree branch that would've sent her to an early grave. it’s claws had nearly grazed her skin, tearing into the fabric of her shirt instead.

she guffawed at her fellow teacher hidden within the trees and got to her feet once more. he stepped through the shrubbery, ignoring the inhumane screeching next to him.

“it looks like we had the same plan.” he mused and gave her a little wave. her frown deepened.

“oh fuck off, gojo. you can’t go around tagging along to every mission just because you’re the strongest.” she huffed, still catching her breath from the near-death experience. the grotesque heap of flesh roared in front of her, lunging towards her distracted form.

“is that not exactly what being the strongest means? i get to do whatever the fuck i want?” he smirked and appeared behind the cursed spirit in a flash. the disgusting sack of meat was interrupting their alone time, and he hadn’t taken too kindly to the intrusion. in moments, he had ripped its shoulders clean off its body and caused it to fall lifelessly into the dirt. viscera splattered all over her, coating her clothes in sticky scarlet fluid.

there was something about seeing her covered in blood and guts that did something to him, something he really didn’t like. he took a step closer, admiring the way the red liquid glistened against her bare skin.

“besides, if i hadn't shown up i wouldn't have gotten to see you with blood dripping down those pretty little thighs of yours.” his flirting was going to be the death of her. it was almost pitiful how close she was to folding. she decided to focus on the anger coursing through her veins instead of the lust bubbling under the surface.

her eye twitched, and he could feel her cursed energy pouring out of her from across the grass. his smile dropped when the blood splattered across her body began to move her hand, coming to life right before his eyes. he knew her cursed technique well, and he should’ve known he’d piss her off more than anything. his eyes widened as sharp, scarlet shards came barreling toward his head.

“whoa whoa whoa, let’s not get hasty here.” satoru choked out, making quick steps to get away from the onslaught of tiny spikes.

“why do you keep dodging, dickhead? you’re practically invincible!” she was yelling at him now, words echoing through the clearing of trees. he couldn’t deny that he found her raising her voice at him appealing. his slacks started to feel a little tight as she sneered at him, nose turned up in disgust. she practically dripped with malice, and he was loving every moment of it.

“because your cursed energy hurts!” he whined, dodging yet another one of her attacks. the sheer power flowing through every crystalized spear of blood she sent his way sent shivers down his spine. it was overwhelming, even for him. his infinity wasn’t going to let any of her advances break through, but that didn’t keep her cursed energy from seeping into his very soul. he’d never liked fighting her for that reason only, but his sense of self-preservation was dying in front of him as he caught a peek under her skirt.

“good! i told you to stop trying to fuck me!”

“and i keep telling you, i don’t listen!” his response earned another shard stabbing into the ground next to his feet, and she took angry steps towards him as he continued to back up.

“you never listen to me. you show up on my missions and nearly get me killed because you want to get in my pants. what am i supposed to do with that?” she growled, and he was only narrowly avoiding her attacks.

“i dunno. maybe you should figure that out.” he replied, a little too cheeky for his own good. anger started to bubble over as she swung at him with her bare hands, and he smirked. he grabbed her hand, pulling her towards him as he pushed her down onto the ground.

“c’mon. you don’t want to play that game with me. do you, gorgeous? you know that you can’t even put a dent in me.” his eyes darkened as he responded, and he pinned her hands over her head to keep her in place. “you can only touch me because i want you to.”

“so you’ll let me kill you, then?” her reply was hopeful, and he scowled.

“why can’t you just admit that what you want to do is let me fuck you until you can’t walk straight. it would save us all so much time and energy.” he sighed and stared into her eyes with a tint of lust over his own.

“you’re so pretty when you’re all worn out.” he cooed, running one of his fingers through her hair. damn. he was already wearing down her defenses, and she tried to keep her thighs from rubbing together instinctively.

“i’m not worn out.” she huffed, and he chuckled at her. “i could still throw you into next week if i wanted.”

“oh, yeah? i think you should save the energy you have left for when we get back to your hotel.” there he was again, inviting himself along wherever she went. to make it even worse, she was contemplating letting him.

“who said you were coming with me?” she questioned, eyes squinted at him.

“oh, please. of course we’re leaving here together.” her face scrunched up at his words, and that urged him to continue. “you should see the look on your face right now.” satoru smirked, echoing her words from earlier that day. he released his hold on her hands, and she used the opportunity to sock him right in the nose.

“okay. i’m done.” she smiled and helped him up off the ground. “i’m still not going to fuck you, though.” perhaps she was not quite truthful in this statement. it was more like she had to keep herself from fucking him, but he didn’t need to know that.

“sure. you’re lying to yourself, but sure. whatever you have to tell yourself to help you sleep better at night, baby.” he dusted off the dirt that coated his back, a teasing smirk on his face. he was getting closer to the prize he’d been seeking.

“fuck off. if you’re not nice you’ll be sleeping on the floor.” she frowned and booed at him as they made their way back out of the forest.

she breathed a sigh of relief when she caught sight of the large hotel, exhausted from her walk back from the forest. satoru however, had been completely unaffected by their long trek. he’d spent the entire time throwing flirty comments her way and avoiding the punches she’d thrown back.

they stepped up to the counter, and the attendant watched them curiously. she had to imagine that the two of them together were quite the sight to see, even to a stranger who had no grasp on their importance as sorcerers. she’d almost forgotten about her tattered and bloody clothing and addressed the clerk with a smile as she received her key. satoru wrapped an arm around her as they strolled through the hallways, and she smacked it away before turning towards their door.

the hotel room was much too cramped for her liking, and she threw her bag down on the bed. she peeled her bloodied shirt over her head, heading towards the bathroom. he tried to follow her inside and whined at her when she slammed the door in his face.

“why were you taunting that cursed spirit?” gojo asked, his voice muffled through the closed door. “you could’ve taken it out in one shot, but you chose to beat it to a pulp with your hands. why?”

“not every fight requires you to rip off heads with pure force, you know.” he could hear her faint reply through the wood as the shower turned on. “besides, my cursed technique needs blood to work properly. i wasn’t looking to spend the next few hours tending to my self-inflicted wounds just so i could kill that thing quickly.”

“why not? i would’ve been more than happy to patch up a beautiful girl.” he sulked when she didn’t reply, and he sat against the wall as he waited for the water to turn off.

“so you were planning on crashing my mission the whole time, then?” she opened the door and rolled her eyes at the white-haired man. satoru always had a plan, even when he swore up and down he didn’t. “you wanted to find me all bloodied and battered, and nurse me back to health?”

“actually, i was planning on killing it before you got there. you just happened to beat me to it.” satoru shrugged like it was a casual thing to suggest. he’d put himself in danger to get a moment alone with her and she’d been blowing him off this whole time. teasing him half to death and pretending to hate everything he stood for.

“spotlight stealer.” she grumbled under her breath, and he laughed at her sour attitude.

“i would’ve let you take all the credit for it, baby. i just wanted some time alone with you.” satoru purred, leaning towards her with a glint in his eyes.

“oh, i should’ve guessed. are you this determined with every girl you try to get with?” she didn’t know if she wanted to hear the answer to that question, but she couldn’t help herself. did he pursue every girl relentlessly? would she be mad if he did?

“not even close.” he replied with a shrug of the shoulders.

“then why should i give you what you want?” satoru seemed to have been waiting for that question, and he took another step closer.

“well to start, i could have your legs shaking in about twenty minutes. and to be completely honest, i’m so desperate to see you writhing in pleasure again that i’d probably do anything you wanted.” he was getting a little too close for comfort, but she didn’t have the willpower to push him away. “are you not even a little bit curious? you were enjoying yourself before we got interrupted. why not continue the fun?”

“i suppose i might be a little curious about it, but mostly to find out if you’re all talk or not.” she admitted, holding his stare. “you reek of desperation, satoru. you’re lucky that i think it’s kind of hot that you want me so badly.”

“only kind of? i’ll have to do a whole lot better than that.” satoru smirked, and stepped closer to pin her against the wall. “i can’t stop thinking about you. i just can’t get the image of you moaning and gasping underneath me out of my head.”

“you drive me insane, i need you more than i’ve ever needed anything.” he continued, slotting a leg in between hers. she hadn’t even made it to her luggage to grab a pair of pants, in nothing but a button-up and panties.

“god, i hate when you do this.” she scoffed at him and looked away, her cheeks flushed as he ran a finger over her jawline. keeping herself from blushing was growing rather difficult, especially with his knee pressing against her clothed slit.

“do what?” he pouted at her, and batted his long pale eyelashes between his words. what a fucking tease.

“act like you like me so i’ll give you what you want. you’ve been doing it since we were kids.” her presumption was true. he’d always been determined, even desperate when it came to her. he’d say anything he could to get even just a fleck of her attention. still, he dared to be offended by her words.

“have you ever considered that maybe i do like you?” he questioned like he didn’t know the answer already, and she looked at him unimpressed. her hands moved over to his chest, keeping them apart the best she could.

“improbable. you know exactly what happens to sorcerers that get involved with each other.” she pointed out, trying to ignore the lust blooming inside of her.

“so? improbabilities have never stopped me.” his words made her pause, and her grip tightened on the collar of his shirt.

“you’re infuriating.” she scoffed, lips ghosting over his as she glared up at him. she was so close to throwing him into the wall and walking out the door, but she just couldn’t tear herself away.

“but you still want to kiss me.” he replied, and she tsked at him. he was still so close, only one more step would have them meeting in the middle. still, she tried to hold firm.

“i want to do more than that. you just piss me off too fucking much.” she rolled her eyes, surprised she’d even dared to admit that to him. perhaps she was going soft. or getting rather desperate herself.

“your boyfriend wouldn’t like that very much, would he?” he was practically gloating, certain that every comment would land him one step closer to breaking her resolve.

“no, he wouldn’t. it’s a good thing he’s not my boyfriend, then.” her response lit a fire deep inside of him, and he stared at her with eyes lidded as he leaned closer.

“oh, so that position is available?” he asked, tone feigning curiosity. he didn’t really want to know if she was seeing anyone, did he? he was just going to hurt his own feelings, winding himself up over something that she was never going to give him.

“i don’t date sorcerers.” she stated plainly, as a last-ditch effort to get him to give up. her resolve had worn rather thin, and she only had one excuse left to throw at him.

“who said anything about dating?” was all it took to break her last shred of dignity, and she pulled him in for a harsh but passionate kiss. he smirked as his lips touched hers, and he started nipping at her lower lip. it didn’t matter that he was just insinuating that he wanted to be her boyfriend. he was just saying whatever he needed to, it seemed. there was no way he was serious about it, he couldn’t be. there was just no fucking way.

she was pulled out of her thoughts when she felt his tongue pressing against hers, and she let out a small, muffled moan. that caused him to chuckle, and he pressed her further into the wall.

“cat got your tongue?” he mused. his hands had started to roam underneath her shirt. she scoffed at him, not giving him the luxury of an answer.

“c’mon, you’re so quiet now. what happened to all that attitude of yours?” he teased, delightfully surprised when he realized she wasn’t wearing a bra.

“you just keep talking…” she groaned when his fingers flicked her right nipple, his face downturned at the remark.

“you love it.” satoru cooed as he lifted her shirt above her head. “i know you do.”

her reply hadn’t even left her mouth before she was interrupted, a moan erupting from her throat as his mouth wrapped around her nipple. he was laughing at her now, even with his mouth full. the vibration rumbled through her chest, and she pulled herself away from him.

“you’re always such a tease.” she grimaced, taking him by the collar of his shirt and dragging him towards the bed. he grinned at her words and spun her around, pushing her onto the plush mattress. he wasn’t far away, shedding clothing at a remarkable pace.

“is it really teasing if i mean everything i say?” he shot back and grabbed the bottom of his shirt to pull it off.

she was soaking wet by the time satoru’s fingers made their way to her panties, and she flushed with embarrassment.

“oh wow.. excited already, baby?” he asked, but it was more of a taunt than a question. he chuckled as he pulled them down her legs, and he ran his fingers over the wetness he found. he had to admit, this was already much better than last time. she was just as desperate as he was, and he was starting to realize just how much he’d wound her up. his plan was working effortlessly.

“you’re killing me here, gorgeous. i need to taste that pretty pussy.” he seemed elated by the wetness dripping down her thighs, surprised that she was already so wound up before he’d even touched her.

“shut up.” was her reply, pink cheeks puffed with air as he spread her lips apart with his fingers.

“but you get so flustered when i tell you exactly how you’re making me feel. how am i supposed to give that up? the look on your face is absolutely priceless.” she let out a shaky breath at his words, trying to keep herself quiet as his tongue licked a stripe along her entrance. when he reached her clit, loud slurping sounds echoed off the walls as he went to work splitting her open with his tongue.

her hand came up to cover her mouth to silence the noises threatening to spill from her lips. satoru looked up at her with a displeased expression, fingers squeezing her thighs in protest.

“use your words, baby.” he taunted, pulling his face away from her clit to instead bite at her thighs. he was already basking in the glory of his victory, and now it felt like he was tormenting her on purpose.

“m-more!” she pleaded, back arching against the plush sheets as she dug her hands into his hair.

“you need to ask nicely, or i won’t let you cum at all.” as soon as his lips left her clit to reply, she let out a low whine.

“you wouldn’t.” she pleaded, pushing his head back between her thighs. his gaze darkened, and he hummed against her clit as he contemplated his reply.

“oh, i would. i could walk away right now, and leave you by yourself in this hotel room.” he moved away just an inch to prove his point, and she found herself pulling him back towards her. she needed more. she was so close to release and he was using it against her.

“does that not work for you, angel? is there something you want to tell me?” his questioning was cruel, and she wanted nothing more than to cum around him with her fingernails scratching against his back.

“fuck, satoru. stop teasing.” she choked out, pulling his head away from her thighs. “can’t do this again, please god fuck me now before that phone starts ringing.”

“how can i refuse when you put it like that?” he gave her a mischievous grin as he reached for his belt, and freed himself from his pants. he pushed the fabric towards the floor, stepping towards her now entirely bare. he looked so beautiful, skin practically glistening in the moonlight seeping in from the window.

he leaned over her, pulling her into a kiss as his dick ran over her slit teasingly. he continued dragging himself up and down her wetness, teeth nipping at her lower lip. his hands grabbed onto her ankles and pressed them against her thighs. he started slowly sinking his way into her, and she fisted her hands into the sheets. she let out a hiss as he stretched her open, nearly out of breath as he bottomed out inside of her. he gave her a minute to adjust and stilled the movement of his hips. his fingers combed through her hair, almost like he was trying to console her.

she tried to push herself up in an attempt to get him to move and let out a whine when he held her still. she was begging for some kind of friction, the feeling of him stuffed inside of her already too much to bear.

“c’mon, use your words. i don’t want to have to punish you.” she feared anymore of his teasing, and she finally gave into the desire that she’d been drowning in.

“please god just start moving i-” she cried, words barely coherent when he slowly started to pull out of her. his head teased her entrance again, before sliding back in until his balls were pressed against her ass. he set a steady pace, baiting her into begging for his touch.

her nails dug into his shoulders, barely satiated by the excruciatingly slow thrusts he was giving her. she savored every time his thighs pressed against hers, before pulling himself almost all the way back out again.

“that’s much better, baby. i want to hear you beg.” he wrapped a hand around her jaw, forcing her to meet his blown-out irises.

“harder, satoru! please!” she babbled, already drunk on the pleasure induced by the rocking of his hips. he obliged, hands going back down to hold her in place as his hips began to crash into hers harder, faster.

the way that he looked at her was driving her insane. he peered down at her like she was some glorious treasure, and he was one very lucky pirate. he was grinning from ear to ear, thrusting into her at a punishing pace. the position he’d pulled her into was far too intimate, as everything involving satoru typically was. his eyes were almost glowing and sparkling before her, like he was entranced by the sight in front of him.

her thighs were pressed against her shoulders, pinned underneath him as a plethora of curses left her mouth. the metal bed frame groaned under them, dangerously close to snapping in half as he continued his ministrations. the headboard was smacking against the wall rather violently, and she would feel sorry for the people next door if she wasn’t too busy trying to keep herself from coming undone in his touch.

most of the words coming out of her mouth were complete gibberish, speech slurred as satoru’s dick continued to pound into her. he kept asking her questions like she could answer coherently, humored by her breathy replies. in truth, he was doing it to keep himself from unloading himself inside of her before he was ready for it to end. he just kept dragging it out, bruising her insides with every harsh jerk of his hips.

she supposed she should’ve expected that of him, considering how often he did the same thing with his pants on. he was greedy with his time, determined for it to never end. he didn’t know if he’d ever manage to pull this off again, and needed to savor it as long as he could. that mindset didn’t keep his body from responding to the beautiful sight in front of him. her skin was so soft, and her insides felt so warm and inviting. her walls were drawing him back in, just begging to be stuffed to the brim. it was almost too much for him to handle.

“fuck, i’m gonna-” he choked out, head falling against her shoulder as he tried to keep up his pace.

“satoru…” she moaned, nails scratching against his back as her legs kept him caged between her thighs. “f-fuck, i’m on birth control please just cum inside me. please satoru i-”

his eyes lit up at her words and he nodded furiously as his hips started to sputter. “you’re being so good for me. gonna give you what you want, baby.” he growled against her skin and pulled both of his hands into her hair, bringing her to his lips. his tongue found hers almost immediately and he groaned into her mouth as she clenched around him.

his thrusts became more sloppy and erratic as he toppled over the edge, pushing his cum further inside of her as he continued to rock back and forth.

even when her legs were shaking and his dick was going soft inside of her, satoru still hadn’t released his hold on her hips.

“you’re so pretty, baby…” he swooned, pressing kisses to her cheeks. it was kind of obscene for him to be having this way while pinning her underneath him. his not-so-subtle gestures of affection left dread pooling in her gut, and she couldn’t help but wonder what his end goal was.

she didn’t have much time to contemplate it when satoru pulled her out of her thoughts, pressing a kiss to her lips with a pout forming. “you look like you’re a million miles away.” he stated, pressing a finger against her nose.

“i’m fine.” she replied and let out a long exhale. she ran a hand through his fluffy white locks, contemplating slapping him for making her feel anything for him at all. it was so much easier when she hated everything about him. now, she feared that she might even dare to miss him if he wasn’t right there with her. disaster was brewing deep in her chest, but she shoved it down in an attempt to convince him of her words.

“i don’t think i believe you. what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“nothing.” she frowned and looked away from him. an admission of guilt in his eyes. “just thinking about how you always get everything you want.”

“trust me, if i could have everything i want you’d never leave my fucking bedroom-” she smacked him on the shoulder, cheeks burning at his teasing. she’d think he was joking, but there was something sincere hidden between the lines of his words.

“is that really all you’re thinking about?” he asked after the laughter had died down, and she cursed inwardly. busted.

“no, i guess not.” she frowned, pinching her nose with her fingers with her eyes closed. “what now?”

“what do you mean ‘what now?’ you think i’m ever leaving you alone after this?” his question was surprisingly genuine, as though he was confused that she hadn’t known that already.

“dickhead.” she scoffed, but she couldn’t fight the smile pulling at her lips.

“you’ll learn to find it endearing.” he replied, bringing his mouth to hers. he held her cheeks as he kissed her, fingers rubbing against the skin delicately. his tongue teased hers, and she let out a moan when he bit down on her bottom lip.

she could feel him hardening inside of her again, and he pressed a kiss against her jawline. she let out a whine when he lifted her hips and flipped them both over so she was on top of him. white hair splayed against the pillow, and his strong arms pulled her down until her tits were pressed against his chest.

“satoru!” she squeaked, still sensitive from the last hour of relentless torture. he pressed his head into the crook of her neck, holding her in his lap as he kept her close. he had a talent when it came to contorting her into positions that were far too close for comfort, but she couldn’t help but lean into his touch as his fingers ran over the small of her back.

“never letting you out of my sight.” he grumbled into her skin after sucking bruises along her neck.

“you can’t always have your way.” she choked on her words when his hips began to rock against hers. it was slow at first, the pace nearly torturous as she started to whine above him.

“are you sure about that?” he retorted, pulling his thighs flush with hers. she was using the last of her energy to hold herself up, hands splayed on either side of his head as he started to thrust up into her. her legs felt like jelly as she tried to pull her hips up to match his pace, but he let out a growl as he held her still on top of him. every thrust had his dick bumping against her g-spot, pulling high pitched moans from her mouth as she leaned down to pull him into a harsh kiss.

tongues and teeth clashed as his hips faltered, walls clenching around him as he pulled away from the kiss entirely breathless. a string of saliva connected their lips as he opened his eyes, stormy blue irises filled with such adoration as she started moving along with him.

the sound of skin slapping against skin bounced off the walls of the room, serving as instrumentals behind the choir of their loud moans. her hands had migrated to his chest, nails digging into his skin as her back arched. her tits bounced in front of him, and he soaked up the sight of her entirely fucked out on top of him.

“you want me to fill up that pretty pussy again?” he raised an eyebrow, and she mumbled an incoherent string of yes and please!

his pace hadn’t let up in the slightest, even when he was dangerously close to his end. their fluids dripped onto his thighs as she squeezed around him, overstimulated as she came again. it wasn’t much longer before he was right there with her, coating her insides in pearly white.

her thighs burned as he finally stopped his onslaught, rubbing his fingers over her skin lovingly as they both took a moment to catch their breath. she had a feeling that the moment of peace wouldn’t last long.

satoru’s endurance was something to marvel at, she’d always known that. she’d seen him fight for hours on end without breaking a sweat, but she didn’t think that would equate to him being nearly insatiable in bed.

they’d been up until the wee hours of the morning and had received more than one noise complaint throughout the night. still, satoru was kissing along her collarbone sleepily. his body was still pressed on top of hers, and his hands stayed planted all over her skin. they hadn’t slept very long before his phone started ringing, and he declined the call with a huff. he pressed his face into her chest, and she let out a small giggle as he blew raspberries against her skin.

“yaga’s going to be so pissed.” he laughed, reading through the messages he’d received from his boss, as well as confused texts from both his friend and adopted teenager.

“probably. you’ll be lucky if you get to keep your job.”

“ha, he can’t fire the strongest sorcerer he has. i’m a little too busy to be worried about getting yelled at right now.” satoru’s response was muffled as his lips migrated up to her neck, biting against the skin of her jaw.

now that he had her, he had no intention of letting her go. he didn’t want the moment to end, and she gasped as his warm hands made their way back to her breasts.

“you haven’t had enough yet, have you baby?” he taunted, pinching her nipples between his fingers.

“stop calling me that, asshole.” she replied and pressed her lips to his.

“where’s satoru?” yaga’s voice boomed through the halls of the dorms, and megumi shrugged. the tokyo campus was too quiet without the annoyingly loud sorcerer, much too quiet. it had caught the attention of the principal, who had spent over an hour searching through the empty buildings.

“dunno.”

“that mother-“ yaga sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “when he gets back, send him to my office immediately.”

long before he was satoru’s boss, he was his teacher. he knew him surprisingly well, and had a sinking suspicion that he knew exactly where he was. he had never been very good at covering his tracks, and the file folders scattered across his office were proof of that.

“he went off on one of her missions again, didn’t he?” shoko asked, walking up to the taller man.

“he needs to leave that poor girl alone.” she added and sighed at his antics.

“of course he did. he’ll be back, though. if she didn’t kill him.” masamichi frowned, and took his glasses off his head. “if gakuganji finds out about this he’ll have hell to pay. that old bastard will hold me responsible for whatever destruction he caused.”

“let’s just hope he didn’t tear through entire chunks of forest in his attempt to get in her pants.” shoko responded dryly, and the two of them grimaced as they watched the sunrise peak through the clouds.

satoru was in for a shitstorm when he got home, but he hadn’t cared very much in those moments he spent tangled in her arms.

#this was never meant to be more than a oneshot #but i have been inspired! #gojo satoru girlies rise up! #gojo satoru #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #Spotify

[plutopitou]

The phantom

synopsis: reader has ability/quirk to travel to a state of limbo where the deceased reside. Mention of death, sad angst, like actually

Song: Let the light in - Lana Del Rey

I was crying like a baby writing this which has never happened to me before, still loved it sm

His once calloused hand brushes past the crown of your head pushing back loose strays, focusing on the perfect structure of your features. He wanted a better look at just how beautiful you’ve gotten.

You grasp his large palm in yours, dragging to hold his wrist softly, “I missed you a lot recently..”

You felt the heat of his gaze scatter around your face, exhaling deeply from his nose; you knew he was deep in thought, it made your throat swell in sorrow. “You know what I said last time.” His voice was edging close to stern.

Your gaze narrows down at the polished floor, “Well I don’t know, I guess I couldn’t help myself this time.” Whispered from your lips.

Everything in the home was just as it was the last time you were here. The books along the shelf were untouched, the curtains the same color with the same creases, the counter dust-free- everything still remained dust-free.

“I haven’t been thinking straight lately. Himori’s been trying to force me out the house to do stuff like go for walks, cafe’s, see a movie..”

“Well it sounds like fun, y’know she’s just trying her hardest. The best you can do is try to enjoy it, sweetheart.” He assured softly.

Why did it feel like life was taunting you.

It was quiet.

Outside were birds singing its famous song, banding with the cicadas and wisps of the wind blowing past the limp branches of the weeped willow trees. It was picture perfect, the shade of blue sky with no rain in sight- just floating, pillowed clouds slow dancing around the air above you with no end in sight.

His aura near you felt warm and present.

Hot tears brimmed your lower lashes, your chest felt tight with a suffering ache trying to crawl its way out your stomach, stuck in your throat.

“I can’t enjoy it.” Your voice failed, words trembling out as your eyes meet his. “And you fucking know that.” You forced out in a choked sob.

His soul just didn’t know what to do.

He watches as what looked like months of built up resentment towards him sets free in this state of limbo he continues to wander in. You shouldn’t be back, yet he couldn’t blame you, either.

Your head fell low in your lap, shaking with grief and all he wanted to do was fall to his knees and say everything between you two was going to be alright.

He knew all you wanted to hear him say was he was not going anywhere.

But it wasn’t true.

He wanted you out of this phantom tale you weren’t supposed to be in and live your own life the way it was meant to be.

Both your attention turns to the rumbling in the far distance. The weather outside becomes grayer, the fluffy clouds swell in darkness, the trees swaying trying to brace itself for the incoming storm.

He faces you, his warm embrace wrapping around you like a childhood blanket.

It felt like time paused in a place there was no time. Your tears were swiped away by his thumb, palms grasping your cheeks in a desire no one could take away.

“I lived my life just to see you happy, you know that right?” He asks with attentiveness. You quickly nod holding back more tears. Your faces were a mere inch apart. Your eyes fluttered shut and felt yourself give and lean closer to him.

But he holds you still.

He grasps your palm holding it on your beating heart.

You both knew your presence was a disruption here. But fate is not something to be discriminatory, it was also cruel. And the emptiness you both felt knew that first hand.

“Don’t live your life for me anymore.” Your heart burns, letting your head fall on his shoulder to soak his shirt. “You can’t let this hold back from the life you should have. Nothing can take away what I remember, sweetheart. And you’re not someone I can forget.” He whispers.

The distraught in his voice was telling. He was holding it together by a thread, yet still he knew if he gave into what he wanted most, you’d continue to suffer in a rewritten timeline.

“I can’t forget you either.”

The sky grew darker.

Selfishly, he leaned to kiss your tear away, lips lingering on the side of your cheek like a phantom.

“Please. Don’t come back.” He murmured.

Your hand was left empty. The heat of his hold still lingering as you watch him walk out the door.

Your feet followed without telling them to, racing out the door behind him. The surroundings phased as you found yourself outside on the balcony of your shared apartment.

The wind chill blows past your hair as you walk back inside. Your framed photo together still lays on the desk, a thin layer of dust resting patiently. It’s only a memory.

You wipe it away and set it down, dust-free.

Wiping the last stray tear yourself, you walk out to find Himori.

BNHA: Keigo, Bakugou, Aizawa

JJK: Geto, Gojo,

Part 2 prequel possible with a poll on which character i should base it on for a stronger plotline, stay tuned :/

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#jjk drabbles #mha imagines #bnha oneshots #boku no hero academia #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen #keigo takami x reader #aizawa shouta x you #katsuki bakugou x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #bnha angst #pitou.writes #pitou.drabbles