hiiiii!! i'm Banii, i am so happy to see you all here!! our performers are:
Jujustu Kaisen:
☆ suguru geto thin walls (p.2) Dog Eared
☆ satoru gojo
☆ nanami kento: office space
☆ choso kamo: thank you miss (p.2)
☆ toji fushiguro
☆ sukuna ryomen
My Hero Academia:
☆ dabi (spoilers, will tag for them)
☆ shota aizawa
☆ tamaki amajiki
☆ shoto todoroki (post-time skip)
☆ keigo takami (hawks)
Demon Slayer:
☆ tanjiro kamado (as an adult): dirty laundry, (p2)
☆ sanemi shinazugawa (wind hashira)
☆ tengen uzui (sound hashira)
☆ yoriichi tsugikuni
MISC:
☆ my chemical romance (sort of ? more like characters inspired by them.) Desert Song
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
REQUESTS: i am willing to write other characters that are not listed from these works on a case by case basis. if i know them well enough and i am comfortable writing them, i can do that.
ALSO!! i will write fem characters, and male/masc readers. i do not have a list of fem characters yet, but this will be updated once i do. this list will also be updated as i acquire characters i am comfortable writing. it all comes down to my familiarity and ability to write them in a way that feels true to their personality.
(also, i will not be writing daddy kink content unless requested and i am comfortable with it. it isn't something i personally enjoy but i don't have anything against it.)
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
RULES:
☆ i will not write incest, ped0ph!lia, or r@pe/noncon. i do not write anything for p!ss/sc@t/emetophilia. i am willing to write CNC if the characters discuss it for the reader to see. i am also willing to write Free Use under the same stipulations (there is a conversation written discussing consent and boundaries for the reader to see.)
☆ any listed characters that are canonically minors will be aged up and they will ACT LIKE IT. i do not just slap an age on a character that is clearly acting like a teenager. all characters written will be canonically 18+, or put in an AU/headcanon where they are adults. all affiliated art will be age-conducive as well. for example, if i write about shoto todoroki, it will be in an AU/post-time skip headcanon and the accompanying art will be of him as an obvious adult.
☆ i also will not age up characters that are canonically children. for example, i will not write about nezuko kamado from demon slayer, she is a child. she will not be aged up, we do not have any context for what she would act like as an adult.
☆ anyone found bullying, harassing, or antagonizing anyone under any of my posts will be blocked immediately. any harmful language (encouraging self harm, transphobia/homophobia, racism, any kind of violent language or discrimination/prejudice, etc.) will not be tolerated. i am a queer creator, and this is a safe space for not just me, but for anyone a part of this community.
☆ do not copy my work or repost it under your own name. this is my intellectual property. i have no rights to any of these characters but this is all transformative work created by me.
thank you so much for reading, i am so lucky to have this community. <3
Hi... do you take requests? Hope this find you fine
yes BUT!!!! i have been inactive in posting because im writing my first novel (!!!) so i do accept requests but i do not promise posting unfortunately :(
hello my wonderful friends!!! i hope you are all doing well. are you eating? sleeping? loving one another?
my unholyverse rewrite is still in the works! i am about 1/3rd of the way thru the first draft but i have like 70k of blurbs and pieces that fit in so really im probably closer to halfway done with writing the meat and potatoes before i have to grind through editing.
THAT BEING SAID!
i have 3 things getting in the way of that being completed sooner and they are all wonderful things.
1.) i hit the ground running at my new job, im doing really well and i have wonderful support and mentorship from my superiors and best of all IM GETTING PAID!!!!!!!!! they didn't require any internship before offering me a paid, permanent position so thats amazing.
2.) im working with a mutual aid group on my weekends now so that will cut into my Gooner Writing time, and i couldnt be happier to be able to work with them. i've admired them for years now and i am at a place in life where i am proud to say i have valuable skills to offer them and a bit more control over my schedule to be able to offer my time to them.
3.) im working on my first book!!!!! i have loved writing fanfiction over the years (this is a new blog but i've been writing for roughly a decade across different platforms and under many names) and i am finally biting the bullet and sinking my teeth into my first original work that i intend to submit for publishing at some point.
all in all, it will be many months until my unholyverse rewrite sees the light of day, but it's for good reason. i want to do it justice, i want to aid my community, and im investing in the potential future of me becoming a published author someday (!!!!!!)
so, thank you all for your patience, i know it's been a bit of a rocky journey over the last year running this blog, but i am lucky to have each and every one of my readers here with me.
it was cute, and their dynamic was sweet- but the ending? no. you know what you needed to do, Dearest Author, i wish you had the guts to really make me sad. i know you couldve done it.
i am currently writing a complete overhaul for Unholyverse-
is Anatomy of a Fall next on my chopping block ? i see so much potential in this story it just needs... it needs a push into the right direction.
i've been practicing my writing skills changing established works and it's been SO FUN i feel like soon i'll be ready to write The Story I Want To Submit To Publishing down the line.
1.) I QUIT MY AWFUL JOB TODAY WOOOOOOOO I HAND OVER MY KEYS THIS AFTERNOON OM FREE IM SAVED I SEE THE LIGHT OF GOD
2.) im writing an absolute monster of a fic rn, longest fic i've ever written by far. i'm not sure what the etiquette is for asking for help editing in a community like this- i've only ever received editing help in a professional/academic setting so i'm not sure what to do go find someone to help me in a space like this- any help navigating would be appreciated <3
Hiii (it's me again, the anon who messaged you last time) Dear Author 💕 omg please don’t ever feel pressured!! Real life always comes first, and honestly I admire you so much for pushing through everything you’ve been dealing with. I just want you to know that I’ll be here no matter how long it takes (you could take months or even years) and I’d still be excited to read anything you share when you feel ready 🎀
Most important is that you take care of yourself and find joy again, whether that’s through writing or just living and breathing without stress. Your health and happiness >>> everything else. We’ll always be cheering for you. Sending you all the love and hoping things ease up soon 🫶🏻💗
stop making me cry I BEG
i've been doing interviews and calling places all week trying to get myself out of my horrible job. i've been working about 50% unpaid for nearly two months and i just got a notice from my electric company they will SHUT MY SHIT OFF if i don't pay it by next week. i'm scrambling to pay it and find a new job and it's going.. lukewarm. i think i have something that might come up in about two weeks (god fucking willing) i literally just sat in my car and sobbed. this means the world to me. i know this is a gooner smut page but the support i get in my inbox has genuinely helped me so much. this is a really scary time for me and it's only gotten scarier as time has gone on. i've been plotting out writing more unholyverse stuff because it brought me a lot of joy writing that over the course of the week between work and interviews. i honestly have not been taking care of myself properly and it made me get up and feel like i could actually cook a fucking meal instead of eating cereal for dinner. writing makes me happy, and i'm pushing to do it even though i'm scared and exhausted.
please keep reading, and i can't thank you enough for your support. <3
this is my fic inspired by the famous MyChem fic Unholyverse by Bexless on AO3 !!!! the first work in their 3 part series linked here, the link to what this 'insert' is a part of is linked here. explanation is under the cut to avoid spoilers for those who haven't read it.
content: 18+!!!!! MDNI!!!!! trauma, grief, dubcon (the demons!!!! the voices!!!!!) mention of vomit, mentions of drug abuse + alcohol abuse, anal penetration, masturbation M+M sex, L word, hurt and comfort, heavy on that catholic guilt + sexual shame, degradation (the demons !!!! oh God, the voices!!1!!!1!)
authors note: i know this is different than my usual work, but coming back to my blog after 4 months, i needed to just write a passion project and get something i liked on paper. i saw MCR on their tour and it reignited that love of the Unholyverse series, so i decided to write something outside of my usual cast of characters. with luck, i'll be able to return to my beloved Dirty Laundry very soon !!!
UNHOLYVERSE SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT !!!!
this takes place between when gerard was in active possession at craig's mansion and they drove the demon back into remission- and when the Rosary Sex Scene occurs the night before unholy!gerard's exorcism. i've included screenshots of text from the original fanfic (work: Heaven Help Us- Bexless) to add context and a spot to read from if you are interested in reading this along with Unholyverse as if my work were part of the canon.
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
weary bones and a haze like burnt paper around his vision, they trudge side by side down the wide, elegantly decorated hall.
one arm slung over the back of his brothers neck, the other dangling limply at his side. his feet slowly dragging, knees and ankles buckling under him with ever step.
the acrid taste of bile and something smoldering was left around the back of his throat, his skin sticky and cold with sweat and fear. his clothes torn and singed at the neckline, dirt and black vomit staining his sleeves. he shivered weakly with exhaustion and a deep cold sitting at the bottom of his stomach.
"it's okay, just a little further. don't worry, it's okay." mikey murmurs under his breath, to himself or maybe to gerard, maybe to the crisp clean paint humming all around them, comforting the hollow walls.
rounding the corner into the large bedroom they shared, pristine and neatly clinical like a hotel room. with the exception of the bed- mussed sheets and rumpled pillows- and the table in the far corner strewn with books and clothing slung over the chair, you would think the room had been vacuum sealed for freshness. to the side, a door was ajar with a warm light pouring out onto the cream colored carpet- the bathroom.
a wash of relief waves through him, slightly loosening the knot in his stomach as he saw the inviting glow of a warm shower and fluffy towels.
they awkwardly made their way in, bumping into the door jam and the counter as they fumbled inside.
mikey dumped him out like a basket of dirty laundry onto the lidded toilet, quickly turning to get the shower running. gerard slumped forward, head lolling down to stare between the soles of his shoes. his wrists braced on his knees, his shoulder blades wedging together holding him up like a rickety old house sloping down the hill it was erected on. staring through the backs of his tremoring hands, the veins and tendons pop across the flat plains as the downslope of nauseous adrenaline took its course.
its just like before.
years ago, before any of this, before frankie, before rome, before the collar and the cramped dorms of seminary school, they were here. just like this.
tchotchkes and dowdy yet homely furniture.
wood paneling in the living room, a warm cluttered kitchen and stuffy floral print painting the slouching couch.
the dark, comfortable basement lined with posters and drawings, an impenetrable nest of interest and introversion.
he laid face-up on the carpet, him and the ceiling fan spinning precariously.
halloween night 1999, belleville.
hot, cold, hot, cold.
spikes and sweats and that feeling crawling up his throat, squeezing him from the inside out.
his heart was pounding, lungs full of sand.
the panic was setting in.
i think i took too much.
he hears crying from the next room over.
the hallway?
upstairs?
tears dripped into his ears and he hiccuped, choking on the tight convulsing muscles in his throat.
he was sobbing, slowly and broken.
i fucked up. i'm alone in the house. this is.
bad, i think.
time moved differently, too fast and too slow all at once. he swam on the ceiling watching his own eyes slowly close and shoot back open, fighting the most unnatural sleep he's ever felt creep up from his toes, clawing his eyelids shut.
from above his body, he saw his face turn red.
then purple.
he gasped, something metallic crept up on his tongue and his eyes fizzed as they shot open.
mikey opened the door, his eyes wild and drawn wide as he realized.
gerard could only move his eyes, unable to focus on his brothers face.
mikey sat him up, saying something over and over again.
his mouth moved, but the words were slow and blanketed, like he stuck his head in a pond.
look, the fish missed me.
hello.
as he sat up, drool spilled into his lap as his head lolled forward biting his tongue.
that metal taste grew stronger, his spit tinged pink.
the sharks are coming, blood's in the water.
he blinked.
he was upstairs in the bathroom. the room slowly hyperventilated, growing tighter and then stretching wide, the small open window inside the shower sucked the air out, blew it back in with a puff. he looked around, the frosted light cover on the ceiling caught his eye. the yellowing and dust muddied it's glow to something warm and familiar.
the next time he opened his eyes, mikey's face was screwed tight as he grimaced, disgusted and petrified. gerard panicked, instinctively grabbing his wrist and squeezing with whatever strength he had. mikey was choking him.
they were in the bath tub, gerard laid back in mikey's lap.
his fingers were down his throat, forcing him to vomit up whatever he took.
he threw up mostly on himself, some into the bath tub.
twice more he felt mikey's fingers invading him, vomiting whatever his body still had left in it all over his clothes. the broken sobs mikey let out, huffing 'c'mon, you gotta help me- im sorry' over and over again whirled around in his ears.
his eyes opened again.
mikey was undressing him, hoisting his shirt up over his head, his shoulders and elbows getting awkwardly caught in the black fabric of his tee shirt.
he was muttering something to himself as he fumbled with gerard's belt, tears streaming down his face.
in and out of consiousness, he heard the door open and close a few times. the smell of cleaning product, the shuffling of feet and cloth.
the sharp 'hssss' of the shower jolted him back to reality. the water hitting the yellowing fiberglass lining of the bath sounded like rolling thousands of marbles down a long hallway.
my mouth tasted gross.
his skin was damp and sticky with a cold sweat. his ribs and stomach cramped and his legs and hands were shaking.
looking around, he saw mikey digging around in the cupboard, pulling out a wash cloth and a hair brush.
looking down, he was stark naked.
"mikey..." he muttered, his speech slurred and heavy, tongue gluing to the roof of his mouth.
mikey's head whipped around, eyed rimmed red and wide as gerard spoke.
he stared for a moment before setting down his things on the counter and crouching to meet gerard's face. he sat slumped against the bathroom sink, legs bent awkwardly against the base of the toilet. the cramped bathroom humming and clinking with the broken ceiling fan filling their silence.
"mikey... i'm sorry... i-" he hiccuped and groaned, his ribs squeezing and cramping as he reached out to grab mikey's shoulder.
"..i love you.... i didn't mean to..."
tears streamed down mikey's face, too exhausted to be angry.
"i wish you would talk to me. you hide. or you leave," his voice broke, "and you scare me. i hate it. i wish-" he stopped himself and buried his face in his hands.
gerard reached over and pet his hair, wiping his tears.
quietly under his breath, mikey cried to himself.
"i wish i fucking hated you."
gerard's chest squeezed, the guilt felt like swallowing glass.
"i'll get better."
***
the sharp 'hssss' of the shower jolts him back to reality. the water hitting the sparkling white- nearly blue- fiberglass lining of the large standing shower sounds like rolling thousands of marbles down a long hallway.
my mouth tastes gross.
the spacious bathroom echoes the sound around the room, filling their silence.
the guilt feels like swallowing glass.
he pulls his head up, his sweat-matted hair swaying over his eyes as he looks up.
mikey is fumbling around in the cupboard pulling out a wash cloth and a hair brush.
"mikey..." he croaks, his voice hoarse and splitting.
mikey shuts the cupboard door. setting his stuff down on the counter he walks over, placing a hand on gerard's head brushing his slicked hair off his forehead, a small, warm smile over his face.
"..i'm sorry.." gerard continues.
"why?" he said gently.
"i feel like.." he stops, dropping his head.
".. feel like what?"
"..like this always happens."
mikey crouches down to meet his eyes under his hair.
gerard screws his eyes shut, unable to meet him.
"i love you. i'd do this over and over."
"do you.. did you change your mind?"
mikey pauses, tilting his head.
"about what?" his voice, just above a whisper.
"your wish, from halloween. from before i left." he mumbles, the well of tears is painful, his eyes dry and aching.
"my wi-" he stops, taken aback. "my wish? oh god," his fingers brush over his own lips, his other fist squeezing in his lap, "gerard i'm sorry. i shouldnt have said that- come here, i- fuck, im sorry." he scoops his arms under gerard's shoulders, pulling him in tight.
"it's okay, i know. i did that to you, and it scared you really bad. i wasn't handling it. i-" he stutters, his voice breaking as a sob rips from his chest. crying into mikey's shoulder, a wave of unintelligible apologies crashes around the room.
mikey hums softly, petting the back of gerard's head as he tremors, his fingers painfully digging into mikey's sides. "i'm okay, that's over now. you did it, and im proud of you... it was a sickness, please don't do this to yourself."
"i-i can't take it back-" he sobs.
"you don't need to, it's okay." he squeezes the back of gerard's neck, his skin cold and clammy under mikey's hand.
"i've confessed- repented- i've begged for forgiveness- i n-never wanted it-" his voice raw and broken.
"i know, gee."
"i-i fucked u-up so-so m-many t-times" he stutters, jaw locking.
"it's over now, it's over." mikey soothes, rubbing small circles on his upper back.
gerard sits clinging to mikey's sides, unable to move aside from a small rock back and forth as he wept in his arms.
his sobbing slowly trickles off into sniffles, his breath slowing against mikey's shoulder. his body began to feel warmer, lighter. the hot steam from the shower soothing in his throat, comforting him in his brothers arms.
"i've asked God. i've prayed to Him, begging Him to fix what i broke. i know i scared you, i hurt you so so much. i asked him if He could still love me. if He could take away the scars i dealt you." he sniffles, lifting his head to meet mikey's eyes. "i know i've said sorry, but it's never enough. how can i deserve your love- His love, if i can't make it right?"
mikey's gaze fall from his eyes as he fiddles with a loose string on the shoulder hem of gerards shirt. "i can promise you, im okay now. you weren't alone, yknow. when you got clean, i healed a lot. grew up a lot. i'm not afraid of you. it was scary having you leave to get better, but i understood. and you found something that helped you, that's kept you safe. that's all i wanted, and i got it." he watches the string twirl and twist between the tips of his fingers as he spoke.
gerard sniffes and wipes his nose on his sleeve, disgusted to find it damp as it meets his face. "thank you for saying that. i'll never stop being sorry, but.... that means more than you'll ever know. i love you," he whispers as he yanks mikey in, roping his arms around his neck and pulling him in tight, "i love you so much. thank you."
he gently pats gerard on the back, burying his face in his shoulder. "i love you too, you don't have to thank me."
he pulls away, asking "you okay to shower by yourself this time?"
gerard nods, shakily standing up. he feels lighter now, if even the smallest bit. "i got it, thank you."
mikey leaves him to attend to the others.
after vigorously brushing his teeth a few times over, gerard strips of his ruined clothes, abandoning them in a crumpled heap on the floor. shivering, he carefully steps into the shower on wobbly knees.
the water hits his skin, warm and soothing. it feels like the first sip of water during a brutal hangover, or a hot meal after a grueling day of work.
satisfying.
running his hands along his body, he rinses the grime, vomit, soot and sweat off his skin. he takes a few deep breaths, feeling his worn edges begin to soften and a sense of home start to return. he feels his face relax, his brow unfurrowing for the first time in what feels like days. standing under the hot water, he drinks in the luxury of the most miraculous invention man ever created- the water heater.
but soon, that smoldering haze along his vision begins to deepen. he hasn't been able to shake the chilling feeling that something got put back Wrong when he woke up. as if his bones were removed in his dreamless sleep and replaced with another set.
he centers himself in his chest, pressing his palms to his sternum, working up to try praying again since the cross was burned into his neck. he runs a hand up his chest to his neck, feeling the skin on his burn- shiny and taut, beginning to blister. the heat from the shower doesn't irritate it, a numbness tingling on the wound. he finds it strange, but one less thing hurting is one more thing gained. dragging his hand back down he presses his chest in, soothing and centering himself. with a few slow deep breaths, he starts.
Heavenly Father, i ask You for guidance as i try to find myself again after....
that dull throb begins to bloom in his chest.
he starts again.
Heavenly Father i ask You to help me find Your light in the darkness as i....
the thought leaves, replacing itself with an ache behind the middle of his eyebrows.
he opens his eyes, staring intently at the opposing wall of the shower as the water hits his back.
Heavenly Father, i pray to You in a time of need, asking humbly You guide one of Your yielding and loving sheep back to.... back to the... i ask you...
the dull throb in his chest presses deeper and sharper into the muscle between his lungs. the confusion and brain fog luring him away from thought at any attempt to pray.
his eyes shoot open.
mikey was right. it's not gone yet.
something is still terribly, awfully, horrifically wrong inside.
and the pain, something that made him sick to think about, sits deep in his chest like a wound burrowing up towards his skin. the longer he tries to eek out a prayer, the sharper the pain becomes.
with a deep huff and a shake of his head, beads of water flinging at the walls. he pours shampoo into his hands, the pearlescent shine sparkling at him like the inside of a seashell.
he scrubs his hair thoroughly, washing it more than once. he counts the passes he makes running his fingers through his hair rinsing it out, visualizing the tallies on the wall. the pain subsides as quickly as it came. he runs his wash cloth under the hot water and pours a thick floral soap all over it. the glistening foaming bubbles shine like tiny rainbows all over the heavy, plush fabric. the sweet smell wafts around the shower in a dense, pink haze as he begins scrubbing his body, rough and absent-mindedly.
but the crinkled edges of his vision narrow further, his hearing deafened by something dense hanging just behind his ears.
it's frank...
a deep rumbling barks from behind his eyes. it's his own voice, but it sounds wrong. fake. dripping with something sinister.
he's standing between us.
heat began pooling at the bottom of his abdomen, nausea creeping up his throat.
no no no no.... that's not true, nothing can come between Us.
his mind racing as he feels himself lose control of his body. the rip of fear down his back was unlike anything he had felt before. the panic of wanting to claw your way out of your own body, not identifying it as yourself anymore- it's shakes him to his core and tears him open.
it's not your fault. he aches for you, you reciprocate. he chases you, finds replacements for you to try and fail to satiate himself. you are plainly human, a void begging to be filled. you wouldn't be able to help it no matter how hard you tried. you are flawed, weak, sinful.
lustful.
his stomach bottoms out. the growing heat in his stomach burns hotter, his cock flushed and pulsing. acid burns in his chest, his stomach churning.
please, stop. he begs.
you need him. you writhe in the heat of your bed every night praying to me, praying to your God, begging for the courage to resist. you are haunted by your fitful dreams of desire. you crave him. you are plagued by urges to sink your teeth into his neck, whining and whimpering as he spreads you open and eats you whole. you think he sees you as waifers and wine? you are an animal, unfit for consumption. no honor will come to you the day of your slaughtering, you are filthy meat discarded with the rest of the fodder for flame.
you think you are worthy of My light? My love? you are not fit to serve me. you are weak. give in, there's no point in fighting it.
his own voice bitter and distorted as it rings through his head.
"no, please. i can't." he whimpers, leaning his shoulder on the wall and burying his face in his hands, his cock painfully hard against his stomach, his balls tight and heavy.
you know you need him. find him. i know what he wants, i know how he feels. i see every flushed face and pathetic drooling maw. you make him lonely. you let him get too close, driven by your greed, and then push him away when you can't justify it any longer. you adhere to an imaginary moral high ground, leaving him cold and alone to suffer. he touches himself night after night wishing you'd come find him, keep him warm, fill that hole in his chest. and every night, you don't. you leave him cold and alone, and his bitterness for you grows in his heart with every starving night that passes. submit yourself to your ugly nature. i know what's in here. you fear your blank void of a death? the desolate unending emptiness? does it scare you to know nothing cradles you in the end? go chase the comfort of hot mortal flesh.
gerard's head spins, disoriented and angry. none of this makes sense. calling itself God. disgusting.
God would never treat any of His children this way.
you're lying. you aren't Him. i know you, stop fucking with me.
he grits his teeth, fighting the urge to run just next door and and taste him. please him. hear him. feel him. his hands tangle in his hair, squeezing at the roots trying to shake himself free.
i know what you need. a little encouragement.
flashes of guilt ridden fantasies burn along his eyelids. frankie is laying back in his bed in one of the never-ending motels they've crashed in, in the middle of god-knows-where, the covers rumpled around his thighs. his hand stroking his length, wet and loud. whimpering, quietly muttering his rosary, gently running his fingers holding the beads along his teeth, delicately pulling his bottom lip down. huffing and gasping between prayers, his stomach flexing and clenching as he pleasures himself shamelessly all for gerard's hungry eyes to drink in. he meets gerard's eye and stops, lays his arm back against the head board, the fragile beads of the rosary clinking agains the dark stained wood. "gee.." his chest heaving and his face flushed and shining, "please?" he begs, his girl-pretty lashes flutter against his cheek as his eyes roll back, his head tipping back into his pillow, exposing the lean muscle of his neck. gerard could practically hear the thump of frankie's pulse in his neck, desperate to feel it against his tongue.
as quick as the first vision had come, he was forced into the next.
gerard's hands were digging into the flesh of frank's back as he fucked deep and slow into him, gerard's legs spread and pinned high along his torso. their chests glued together, as much skin touching as humanly possible. the rush of feeling the heat from his body on top of him, his weight pressing him into the mattress, it was immediately addictive.
he was consumed with greed for more.
frank was sucking and licking at his neck, his hands tucked under his head as low broken moans fall from his lips directly into gerard's ear- poisoning his mind.
"you can't ever leave me alone again.." frank whispered in his ear.
"never, i'll never leave" he hears himself say, as if he were watching a movie.
"you can't go, please stay" frank says, a slight urgency riding his voice.
"i won't, i'm yours. i b-belong to you" gerard stutters out as frank picks up the pace.
"why won't you touch me?" he asks, a roughness lacing his words.
gerard wraps his arms around him tighter, pulling him even closer than they already were, as if to force himself under frank's skin.
"i'm here, im-fuck- im touching you, i'm here"
"why won't you touch me?" he voice louder, angrier. he fucks gerard harder, almost vengefully. frank pants against his skin, the warm wave of his breath addictive and crushing to gerard as he feels himself sink lower and lower into submission and pleasure.
"frankie im-slow down, please- frankie im right here" he pleaded into his shoulder, squirming with embarrassment and shame over his junkie-love for how rough he was getting fucked.
frank's fingers curl into the roots of his hair, no longer cradling him lovingly but instead angrily pulling his head back against the pillow. frank turns his head, pressing his lips to gerard's ear, "you leave," he huffs, "and it's torture. youve never touched me. ever. why? am i not good enough? you think i'm fucking worthless, don't you?" his breath hitches in his throat, "am i not pretty enough for you, Father?" he whispered harshly, tears thickening his voice as he drove himself into gerard over and over, bringing him closer and closer.
his mind was putty, a psychic wound freely bleeding out onto the sheets.
"frankie please, stop. y-fuck, please- you are so beautiful i-" he breaks, babbling into franks shoulder, "i love you, you are-aah!-a-amazing, more than g-good enough," he pants, small noises escape his lips as he fights to speak, "i-im n-not going anywhere im r-right here," he breaks, whining shamelessly as he fucks himself against frank's slamming hips, "please stop for a second- i need you to s-stop because-god, fuck- because i'm gonna cum" he whines, grinding his dick against him, his precum lubing their stomachs.
it's wet and filthy, and it's all horribly wrong.
"you are fucking heartless, gerard. you won't see me," his voice cracking, "im right here. you won't touch me. i can't stand it. i can't fucking stand you. i won't let you keep being so selfish. i won't ever let you leave me ever again." his voice raw, frank's tears smearing against gerards neck and shoulder as he rams himself into him, forcing him to cum all over frank, shaking and begging for him to stop, to listen, to hear him.
his eyes fly open.
he's back in the shower.
he's muttering "stop... stop showing me this... please, stop it.. he wouldnt say that..."
one arm over his head bracing him against the wall, the other furiously pumping his cock. he hears all the pathetic little sounds falling from his own lips, the pants and whimpers he lets out, panic spiking in his veins.
he can't stop.
not just because the pleasure is so immense, he literally cannot will his hand to stop stroking his throbbing length. it's as if it doesn't belong to him.
"please please please" he cries, tears pricking his eyes.
he told himself he couldn't touch himself anymore after the first time, one night shortly after they met. he had never felt such pleasure- such obsession- as the first night he touched himself to the thought of frank. it was addictive and raw, narcotic in nature.
his imagination far too vivid, heady.
dense with emotion.
he cut himself off after that. he couldn't control the wet dreams that starting terrorizing him shortly after- fitful sleep plagued with throaty moans and dark secrets- but with prayer and repenting he thought they could go away.
they didn't.
stroking his cock had never felt so good, and the sickly twist of shame in his stomach made the bile rise in his throat again.
"f-forgive me Father, for i have sinned," he choked, his voice low and shaky. "i-i can't stop myself and i don't know why."
he cursed under his breath, a raw groan ripped from his throat.
this is wrong. this is all wrong.
"p-please give me the courage to withstand temptation and sin, and b-fuck, im sorry- and b-bless me with the w-wisdom to overcome my lust." he gasped for air, chest squeezing in pain. the raunchy twist of his hand felt fucking amazing. it was nothing like his own, and it made the pleasure so much more intense. every nerve ending in his body was alight and receptive, desperate for any stimulation. "i can't stop thinking about him. i c-can't stop my urges to be-" he catches his bottom lip between his teeth, ashamed to so much as whisper his desires.
i have to say it. i have to bear my sins.
"i need him. i need his skin. i need to taste him. i need to lick the sweat off his neck while he pleasures me deep inside, i need to feel him fill me completely. i need his hands- god, his fucking hands. i want to feel his desperation poison my skin like nicotine, loving every awful piece of me until i can't breathe anything except for him," he babbles, the words falling messy from his lips as he shakes and wracks with disgusting pleasure. "whatever it is, whatever is in me right now- it was right. i-it's awful and it's right." he hisses, his head snapping back, eyes welling with tears and rolling against the unending ecstasy he's being subjected to, "i-i writhe around in my bed at night like an animal in heat, practically chaining my hands behind my back to keep me from pleasuring myself to the mere k-knowledge he's in the room next to me. im so hungry, i feel like a starving animal. fuck, i'm a starving fucking animal, stupid and bound at the neck for him. i'm so aware of him-" he chokes out a pathetic cry, "when he showers. when his hand brushes mine. when he wears my clothes. this creature- it knows." he pants, hiccuping on his tears. "it knows and it pressed our bodies together... t-to try to hurt frankie. i-" he stops again, a hot wave of shame overtaking him. "i-i think i loved it. i was so scared, so was frankie. oh God, i hated seeing him afraid. but i loved feeling my body touch his. i-i reacted. it wasn't just this sickness, i reacted. i'm so sick, i need help. help me, please" tears streaming down his face, an outpour of muddled apologies and cries for help surge from his lips.
his chest heaving, face wet with tears, a deep flush begins blooming on his chest and neck.
there was no stopping this.
he literally would have to lop off his arm to stop himself from cumming, and he was seriously considering it for a moment.
"no, no, no please don't make me do this" he whispers, broken and panicked.
the coil in his stomach snaps.
his knees buckle, he catches himself on his elbow against the wall. sobbing and shaking, he cums harder than he thinks he ever has in his life up until this point. a slew of "frankie, please", "god, fuck im sorry" and "no, stop" tumble from his lips as he gushed cum from his angry throbbing cock. whimpering and grunting, hopelessly alone in the hot shower, he comes down from his sickly high.
as he catches his breath, the haze around his vision barely lets up. he doesn't feel any better.
the hot pool of warmth in his abdomen had barely subsided long enough to straighten up on his jelly-legs before he felt the urge to start all over- rub his cock raw and sob out pathetic apologies the entire time. panting, flushed in the face, he shamefully buries his face in his hands.
please please forgive me.
he washes his body again, trying to scrub away his unwavering shame. it clings to his skin, hanging over him like a thick angry cloud.
he towels off, dresses in fresh clothes, and paces around his room.
a swirling storm of guilt, shame, fear and insecurity distorted any attempts to self soothe as he walked nervous circles around his bedroom. his stomach sank as he settled on the one thing he had been ignoring, the thing that bit and clawed at the corner of his vision.
when i died, there really was absolutely nothing. a dreamless sleep.
it didn't take long for his pacing feet to bring him all the way out to frank's bedroom.
before he could think twice about it, he knocked on the smooth, heavy white door.
"frankie?"
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
authors note #2- the catholic yearning is just something else, man. it drives me nuts i just have to WRITE. now go read unholyverse again. also im desperately chasing the high of seeing mcr in my city. can u tell?
authors note #3- that line 'look at you. look at how He made you.' i'm convulsing. thank u bexless, 14 years later.
HIII!! So, I came across your story of "Dirty Laundry" and mind if I ask for part 3?? if it's not much of a trouble ofc, cause I just loveee how you write his character (AM IN LOVE W/ ITTT😍🙌🏻) 🫶🏻🫶🏻
i know none of this matters cuz it's Real Life Problems but my post-grad job is immediately a really bad place to work so i've been trying to untangle the disaster i've gotten myself into. i've been working (unpaid about half the time) and just getting over covid. i have had a roller coaster of a last 6 months finishing my degree, interning and then working in my field and it's been dumpster fire after dumpster fire. dirty laundry is my first priority when getting back into writing officially, but i have plans to write an unrelated mychem fanfic (holyverse inspired if y'all know y'all know) to warm up to writing again.
all of that to say, yes i am and it break my heart whenever i get comments and asks about it because writing brings me unending joy and i want to feel like myself again and create not just for you but for myself. i have lost touch with a lot of what makes me feel good this past year or so, and i have every intention of coming back when im not. dying.
i know it doesn't fit my blogs theme and i haven't written anime men in months HOWEVER i just saw MyChem so obvs i reread unholyverse ,,, and i would like to write a lil something inspired by it ,,, WOULD YOU SHOOT ME WITH A GUN IF I DID THAT ?????
synopsis: you dropped your panties in the hallway on laundry day. little did you know, your dear friend Tanjiro Kamado found them. and he's never giving them back!!!!!
word count: 13.3k !!! <3
content: VILE FILTH !!!! 18+ !!!!! smutty as all hell. lemonade for all. panty sniffing!!!!!!! oral sex (F!receiving) P->V penetration, an absurd amount of masturbation, mentions of light choking, mentions of oral sex (M!receiving) some cute fluff, the L Word, lots of tears bordering on dachryphilia, mutual pining, degradation (self-inflicted), shame kink, Virgin!Tanjiro corrupted, public masturbation
(authors note: pretend he has long luscious hair cuz RIP WHY DID U CUT IT, he's like 24-25 and so are u. ur character is studying under Shinobu and working as a care taker at the Butterfly Mansion. okay byee have fun!!1!1!!!)
☆♡☆★♡☆★♡☆★♡☆
he woke up to the gleaming sunshine trickling in through the slatted window above his headboard. stretching and swinging his legs off the bed, he rubs his eyes and pushes his hair out of his face. it was late summer, the cherry blossoms around the courtyard bearing small fruits and gently turning yellow as fall gets closer. slowly, with the gentle morning haze, he gathers his toiletries to head outside to the bathhouse. as he steps out into the dorm hall, it's already bustling with caretakers carrying baskets of laundry from around the mansion-
it's laundry day again.
he turns back in to grab his white wicker basket from behind the door, and places it outside his room to be collected. he would bring it himself, but he got scolded the last 3 times he tried to help. he rounds the corner through the caretaker hall with their dorms, and steps out onto the grass, still wet with dew. the early morning light peaking through the tall wooden fences, it was still cool out before the afternoon sun beat down onto the courtyard, loosening collars and mopping brows. he took a deep breath in, admiring how peaceful it was outside. his linen pajama pants flowing, the cool breeze was gentle on his face.
once inside, he brushed his teeth. splashing the cool water on his face, he hears others enter behind him. inosuke laughing maniacally running past him, pushing open the double doors to the baths with his head. as they swing shut, he hears a giant SPLASH. he looks up into the mirror smiling to himself. through the mirror he can see zenitsu trudging in with his towel slung over his shoulder. he looked droopy and mopey, complaining loudly about how unfair it was that they always had to be up so early to train. as he passed through the double doors himself, he was tackled and thrown into the water by inosuke, screaming "fight for me underling!!! there is a monster at the bottom of the bath, we shall vanquish it together!!!!"
the crashing and squeals of protest from behind the door as they swung shut made him laugh to himself.
walking back inside, he sees you pulling your own laundry basket out of your dorm room to take down to the washing station outside. your white wicker basket is nearly overflowing, spilling rogue socks and undershirts all over the hallway.
you awkwardly bend down to pick them up with one hand, supporting the basket with your other arm and your knee. you straighten up and try to close the sliding door behind you with limiting success. he slows down as he passes you, watching you struggle to carry the heavy basket with two hands, and shut the door with your foot.
he lingers on the thought of the day he realized he had feelings for you. the year before in spring as the cherry blossoms bloomed, he was sent to the infirmary for the millionth time. he had taken a huge chunk of rock the the face in an explosion he could've easily avoided had he trusted inosuke to jump out of the way in time. but he always wanted to protect others first, his comrades were his family now.
their safety was his peace of mind.
his lip was bruised and split open, cheek slashed, and his jaw was dislocated and needed to be reset. he looked like a bloody swollen mess when he arrived- drooling blood and unable to speak.
he was laid down on one of the soft white cots, the kakushi who carried him in was folding down his collar and laying his arms at his sides.
you swiftly took your place on the stool on the side of the bed, shinobu coming around the other side to inject a numbing agent into his jaw and chin.
you assessed the damage, his jaw crooked and unable to fully close.
"tanjiro, you dislocated your jaw. i'm going to reset it but this is going to hurt. i need you to stay still, okay?"
he nodded, looking up at you with the eye that wasn't swollen shut and purple.
you reset his jaw with a loud POP. he hissed with a small "aah!" but kept true to his word and held still.
you held his jaw closed, your hand cupped under his chin to help alleviate the pain. after a few seconds you remove your hand and have him move his jaw. you check for any breaks or irregularities, but it looks to be alright. next, you have to clean his lip and stitch it closed. the bleeding had slowed, but his wound was caked with sand and dried blood running down his neck. you took a towel soaked in hot water and gently cleaned the blood and grime off his neck and lip.
as you stitched it back up, he kept his eyes trained on your face. wincing occasionally, but otherwise he maintained studying your expression.
a look in his eye, almost like he was quietly saying closer, please.
your touch was so gentle, your face scrunched up with concern. you muttered about how he was stupid, how he was lucky he didn't break his jaw, how he needs to be more careful.
your words were sharp, but your hand was gently holding his opposite cheek. your thumb rubbing small circles as if it were an unconscious second nature to you.
he always knew you were kind, gentle and smart. you were brave and strong, you were warm and your presence was inviting. whenever you spoke to him, your very nature made him feel like you cared only about that conversation. so charismatic and captivating.
but in that moment, your strong, soft hands holding his face so lovingly, something bloomed in his chest. something he ached for so painfully, something he couldn't quite identify. something he felt like he lost a long time ago, and would fall to his knees in the dirt and scream at the sky demanding it back.
he spent that night searching in himself for what it was, what wound had you touched inside his heart? whatever it was, he longed for you to come back to hold him again. he wanted to cry in your hands while you comforted him.
since that day, his heart skipped a beat in your presence. he looked for you in large crowds, and wondered how you spent your days when he was away from the mansion on missions.
watching you struggle with your basket, he said "you need any help with that ?" smiling warmly at you.
"actually, if you wouldn't mind shutting my door, i can't seem to get it myself."
he pulls the sliding door shut behind you. you set down the basket, puffing at your hair that's hanging in your face. 'you off to train this morning?' you say, giving him an up and down, taking note of his pajamas.
"ahh, yes. i forgot to bring my uniform into the bathhouse this morning, but it's fine. i'm changing and headed down to dining. you working laundry today?" he says gesturing around at everyone.
you sigh, "nope! i'm on gardening this morning! but the cicadas were loud last night which means it'll be really hot this afternoon. but that's alright, i have plenty of snacks and water." you say patting your apron pocket, he can only assume it's packed with small candies and a bag of dried meat- your two favorite snacks from the snack shelf outside the kitchen.
"well it sounds like you have it all figured out then!" he chuckled brightly. as he says this, you wave to someone over his shoulder.
"it seems i do! i gotta go-i know i'm coming!-i'll see you later! good luck out there today!" as you lift up the heavy basket and whisk down the hall.
"thank you, you too!" he waves as you scurry away. he watches you as you leave, smiling warmly. you are so cute, he always wishes you could stay and talk longer.
as he looks down at his own clothes remembering he has to change for training, he spots a small bunch of clothing on the floor. as he picks it up, calling to you "hey, you dropped this!' you couldn't hear him from the other end in all the noise cluttering between you. he starts to walk towards you and call out 'hey! wait up! you drop-" he stops as he looks down and realizes what he's holding.
your dirty underwear.
oh, fuck.
a hot spike runs down his back.
what am i supposed to do??? i can't bring this to you, that would be so embarrassing.
as he stands frozen, staring at his clenched fist, his face grows hotter by the second.
he's clenching your worn, used panties in his fist in the middle of a busy walkway.
the smell emanated from them was.... amazing. they were so soft.
shaking his head trying to clear his mind, he felt his palms clam up and a stirring in his stomach.
i didn't know you smelled so fucking good.
he thought to himself, his mouth watering.
"tanjiro! tanjiro! hey, c'mere! i need your heeellppp!" zenitsu calls from a few doors down. startled, he whips his head around and shoves your panties into his pocket along with both of his hands in an effort to appear casual.
'tanjirooooo!'
nervous and sweaty, he runs away and books it back towards his dorm.
he barreled into his room slamming the door shut behind him. he tossed himself onto his bed, with his hand smacked over his hot, red face. his hand in his pocket clenched around the soft lacy fabric. he was stiff as a board, nearly shaking with how tense he felt. his mind was racing like he had committed a crime.
well, technically i did. i stole from her. i stole her... panties. oh my god, that's disgusting.
the thought welled up in his stomach like hot lava. he could throw up. it was so perverse and wrong, it was so disrespectful to her. but what was he supposed to do now ? he couldn't just return it to you. imagining the look on your face as he hands over your panties, it was enough to make him nauseous. you would never speak to him again. why did he take them??? he panicked, that's all. he didn't want you to be embarrassed by him telling you that you dropped them, so he was gonna get rid of them for you. that's all. yes, that's what he did. he got up, and walked over to the little trash can next to his bed and he held his hand out with your panties over the trash can. his eyes squeezed shut so he wouldn't see them again, he tried to drop them. but his body wouldn't move. there was a sweet, warm smell in the air. it smelled so good, he knew what it was and it made him sick. he was a monster, he needed to get rid of these. he felt himself throbbing and pushing on the waistband of his pajamas, he was so overwhelmed with lust. he stood there for a long time, what felt like hours. eyes clenched, hand hovering over the trash can, cock throbbing in his pants. it was too much, his eyes started to prick with hot tears of embarrassment. it just smells so good, you just smell so good. he slowly opened his eyes, lowering his fist.
just once, then i'll throw them away.
he thought to himself, his hands shaking. he turned over his palm and looked at them again. the more he relaxed his hand, the stronger the scent was in his room. a balmy, warm smell. it was musky, and smelled almost like vanilla. his knees felt weak, he couldn't take it anymore. he slowly sat down on the edge of his bed, eyes fixed on the fabric in his hand. he slowly, shamefully brought them to his face. he slowly covered his mouth and nose with them like a chloroform rag, and with it he fell back onto his bed. without even realizing what he was doing, he was already groping himself through his pants. they were so tight, it hurt. the ache was too much, he had to relieve it. quickly, he untied them with one hand, the other pressing the fabric into his face harder. he was already groaning at the smell, the feeling of your panties on his face. he had his hand down his pants fucking his fist. it was a fast, feverish pace. he was so overcome with lust and shame, all he could think was
i'm such a pervert
i'm such a pervert
i'm such a pervert
over and over again. but it only made him harder to know what he was doing was so foul. the images flashing through his mind were something hed never seen before.
he saw himself running his hands up and down your naked back as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, licking and biting your collar bones. such vulnerable positions you could be in, your ankles by his ears. on your stomach, your throat in his hands. hearing his own whimpers and grunts muffled by his hand, he could only imagine what you would sound like. do you touch yourself ? do you think of me?
it was too much for him. it was so disrespectful, but he couldn't stop. his mind brought him back to a few months ago. on a cold night in february, he had a fever and a wound on his hip. his stay in the infirmary were longer than the others, so he spent many nights alone. cold and hot and cold and hot, restless and in pain. he was in and out of sleep, the moonlight bathing half the room in silvery light keeping sleep away. it was a hazy memory, but your touch was electric. you quietly opened the door and padded into the room. you pulled the stool out from under his bed, and placed a small bucket of hot water on it. from your apron pocket, you pulled out clean white towels and set them on the nightstand. he was so tired, one eye half open. to you, you still thought he was asleep. he closed his eyes, feeling his head swim. you peeled his blanket down to his mid thigh. he shuddered and winced at the cold air. in a low, soft voice, you said "don't worry, i'll keep you warm. i just have to clean your stitches. you'll get your blanket back. it's okay."
it comforted him, and made him feel warm inside even if his hot skin felt freezing. you gently pulled up the hem of his shirt to his ribs, and the waistband of his pants down enough to see the edge of the wound. it ran from just under his ribs, to the point of his hip bone. you gently pressed a firm hand on the middle of his stomach to steady his shivering as you cleaned the wound gently with hot water. he stirred in his sleep, making a soft, weak moan as you touched him. he was in and out, but he remembered smelling, embarrassment? not quite, but something similar in the air. the only thing he was truly aware of was the awful moonlight keeping him up, and your warm touch on his stomach. when you finished cleaning his stitches, you fixed his clothes, tucked him back into the blanket, and took another towel and gently wiped his forehead and neck. you pressed a hand to his cheek, and left wordlessly.
feeling your touch on him, your hand on his stomach. he remembers it so clearly, and he wants more. more. more. more.
he inhaled sharply and deeply, that warm smell haunting him. his shame was only fueling his frenzy, he didn't understand. he couldn't stop. he was panting and grunting into his fist, he tried to shove his knuckles into his mouth. his fingers tangled in the fabric, he ended up accidentally stuffing your panties into his mouth. his eyes shot open, tasting you. with that, he came violently into his tight fist. he choked on his own hand, trying desperately to keep himself quiet. there were so many people in the halls right now, the worst possible thing would be someone catching him sniffing your panties and abusing his cock to them. he ruined his pants, he probably ruined your friendship, but he had never cum so hard in his life. as he came down, the shame overtook him. he stripped of his ruined pajamas and changed into his uniform, balling up his ruined pants tightly and throwing them into a pile where his laundry basket would be. he sighed, looking down at his bed. your underwear tossed in the middle of his blanket. he wordlessly opened his bedside drawer, and took out a small white bag. inside it, was some jewelry he took with him from his family home. he laid the small beaded necklace and the silver ring gently in the drawer, and stuffed your underwear inside the bag. he pushed it to the farthest corner of his drawer, and shut it tight. looking down at his feet, he felt so much shame and guilt. thinking about having to come face to face with you after what he just did, it made him break out into a cold sweat. but he knew he could never throw them away now.
he collected himself, putting his hair up into a bun and tucking the loose strands behind his ears. he left his room and met with the others for training, having skipped breakfast hiding in shame until it was time to meet outside. he pushed himself hard that day, trying to forget about how he spent his morning. however, in the back of his mind like a buzzing itch, all he could think about was when he'd get another chance to be alone in his room, locking himself away to pleasure himself again. he had never felt such intense urges like this, and it scared him a little.
why were you so distracting?
he knew what sex was, at least mechanically. he understood the process, and he understood the appeal- pretty girls wanting to be so close to you. and he touched himself when he needed to, if he was restless and couldn't sleep, or if he couldn't ignore the ache in his pants anymore. he thought of little things when he pleasured himself, like pictures of pretty women he saw on clothing adverts at the train station, or once a cut out from a lewd magazine that zenitsu gave him, snickering saying "if you've never seen something like this before, it'll change your life."
but none of these things were what made him restless at night, or made him ache and throb. they were simply a solution when the night was long. to him, pleasuring himself was like bathing. you did it when you needed to, some days it was a chore and some days it was a comfort. regardless, it wasn't important or a distraction.
until you.
that night he tossed and turned in bed. everything was uncomfortable, his whole body was buzzing with energy. his legs tangled in his blanket making him cry out in frustration shoving his face into his pillow. "leave me alone, just let me sleep!!!"he whined, muffling his anger.
he turned over, staring at the ceiling.
you know what would fix this. you know what will help you sleep.
no, i can't do that again. i can't use you like that, you aren't some thing i can pull out when im restless and shove back into my drawer when im done. that's terrible, i can't do that.
he tried touching himself, closing his eyes and thinking of you. a few weeks ago, he saw you sitting on a bench under a cherry blossom tree in the courtyard chatting with your friend who works in the dining hall. it was hot, the air was thick and heavy. the buzz of the cicadas falling over the grass as the sun began to set. as he walked over to talk to you, you began unbuttoning your uniform jacket. you wore a thin white undershirt with a low neckline. fanning your face and shifting the clothing around your shoulders, not taking off your jacket but not exactly wearing it. he stopped for a moment. you weren't allowed to remove your uniform. you lived here, but you also worked here. as a groundskeeper and a caretaker, there was no such thing as off duty. you had days where your responsibilities were less, days where you could wear street clothes into the market or spend a day out with friends, but the butterfly mansion was your whole life. you lived in that jacket, even in the heavy heat of the summer. he realized he'd never seen you in anything other than your black jacket, or white apron. of course he understands, it's hot and the air is so muggy.
i won't tell anyone, you can take it off. i'll keep your secret for you.
his face grew hot as he realized that what he was thinking, if anyone had heard it somehow, would sound so inappropriate. but he didn't mean it like that, he just meant that it's hot. he trains without a shirt every day, even in colder months. sometimes, even in the winter. he gets to strip down to what is comfortable, why can't you ? before he could turn around to leave, embarrassment heating his face, you notice him and wave him over. he comes over to you, greeting you. as he does, you begin to button your jacket back up. shamefully, he feels disappointment. he really, really wouldn't mind if you got more comfortable. your thin, white undershirt. it was tight, and it clung low on your chest. he could see the curve of your waist, the dip of your ribs below your breasts, your stomach looked soft and strong, he wanted to know what you tasted like. trailing sloppy kisses from your neck to the waistline of your pants, pulling them down with his teeth-
"how was training ? it was so hot today, im sure it was tiring." you say.
what ?
what did she say ?
training.
yes.
"yeah, it was pretty hot, i had to take a few breaks to have water inside but it wasn't a problem. what about you ? i saw you doing laundry out here earlier, you must've been hot too." he said rubbing the back of his neck.
"it was no problem! i spend most of it sitting in front of the wash board so it's fine. the worst is when you get sweaty from scrubbing the stains, but the cold water feels great on your arms. i just wish we had short sleeve uniform tops. the summer clothes are lighter, but having to keep pushing my sleeves up and getting them wet is the worst. what about you today, in dining?" you turned to your friend.
he nervously fidgets with his hands in his pockets, it's so hard to focus. apparently the kitchen in the dining hall gets disgustingly hot in the summer, the steam from the pots boiling noodles, it seems. he's not really paying attention. he keeps catching himself wandering around your frame. his eyes lingering on the angle of your jaw by your ear, your hair off your neck, exposing the twist and turn of your neck muscles as you nod, listening to your friend. your twisting the ring on your right middle finger, your fidgeting too.
do i make you nervous ? can you tell you make me nervous ?
he's lost in thought, until her friend breaks through. "well, im off to the baths. i'm on for breakfast tomorrow so i'm gonna turn in soon. i'll see you later! bye tanjiro! it was nice seeing you!"
she turns and heads inside, leaving you two alone. you sit next to her on the bench, and you can smell her so strongly now. that warm comforting smell, kind of like vanilla. she's still fidgeting with her ring.
"can i see it?" he said gesturing at your hand.
"see what ? my ring? oh, sure."
a light wash of pink grows on your cheeks as you hold out your hand. he takes it and examines your ring. your hands are soft, and smaller than his, but they are the hands of someone who works hard. soft as they may be, your nails are broken and you have callouses on your palms. you devote your life to maintaining the butterfly mansion.
her hands are so beautiful. i want her to hold my face again..
"the ring is my mothers, she gave it to me before final selection. she said it would bring me protection and good luck. i survived because i was fast, not because i was a fighter. my mom was the head cook here before she retired, and i wanted to be a caretaker here too. i've trained in the basics of combat, but really i always wanted to live here. i want to meet people and hear their stories, i don't want to have many stories myself. yknow?"
he gently turns the ring on your finger, letting his thumb rest on your knuckles.
"yeah, i understand that. before this, i made and sold charcoal for my family. my job consisted of chopping wood, burning wood, shaping the coal into bricks, and walking down the mountain to sell it in town. i met lots of great people, and i became friends with almost everyone in the village. i helped them fix things in their house, or mend clothes with their mothers. i heard all about people's lives, it was really nice. the only reason i ended up here is because of nezuko. if none of that had happened, if i hadn't lost my family, i wouldn't have become a demon slayer. i wouldn't have ever picked up a sword. i was very content with my life, making charcoal and helping people in town."
"it sounds selfish, but i'm glad you're here. i like talking with you, and i'd be sad if you never showed up here and i knew i would've never met you.' you blush and looked down at your lap, pulling your hand away to twist your ring again. 'i don't know, that sounds stupid. i'm trying to say i'm... i'm glad your my friend."
he smiles warmly, and reaches out for your hand again, you smell like that Almost Embarrassed smell again, like that night in the infirmary.
"i'm glad your my friend too."
he wanted to touch you more. he wanted to run his hands up your arms, up your neck, cup your jaw and kiss you. he wanted to kiss you, taste your lips. your tongue, anything. he wanted to put your hand on his chin, he wanted you to touch his lips. he wanted to taste your fingers, he wanted to kiss those hands that work so hard. he wanted to help you relax. help you release something. tension, stress, that feeling he keeps smelling on her, whatever it was, he wanted to wash it from her.
recalling that feeling of utter desperation to be touched by you, the shame he felt from thinking of you so lustfully when you unbuttoned your jacket, it filled his mind as he tried to please himself without your underwear on his face. but it wasn't enough. he had never let himself think about you before. any time he had lewd thoughts of you cross his mind when he touched himself, he pushed it away with ease. his goal was to relax, he didn't want to dwell on fantasies he couldn't fulfill. masturbation was like bathing- it was a chore some days and a comfort on others. he always wanted to remain focused on his goals, his training, his sister. he didn't have the time nor the energy to spare on this mindless self indulgence. but now, it was different. suddenly there wasn't anything that could satisfy him. he indulged himself to push further into that memory, relishing in the way he ate you with his eyes when he saw you in your undershirt.
what else ? what else did i want ?
he wanted to push your shirt up over your chest, groping and pawing at you. hearing you whine and moan as he pinched and licked your nipples. he wanted to pick you up and put you on his lap, tightly gripping your hips and grinding you into his hard cock with his face buried in your chest, trailing dark red hickeys from your neck down to your stomach. he wanted to hike up your skirt (wait, weren't you wearing pants?) and push your panties to the side, and feel your soft warm pussy on his fingers. he wanted to taste you on his hands, make you taste yourself on his fingers.
he could feel himself getting closer, he was fighting so hard to make himself cum. he needed to sleep so bad, he wanted to put all of this behind him. he was furiously stroking his cock, eyes screwed shut, panting and groaning into his empty bedroom.
what else?! what else do i want??
he thought hurriedly, trying to conjure up anything that would push him over the edge so that he wouldn't need to use your panties again.
i want to sprawl you out on my bed, pull your panties off with my teeth, and taste you. i want to suck on your clit, watching you writhe around in pleasure. i want you to use me, pushing my face deeper into you. i want you to pull my hair as you cum, moaning my name as you force me to drink all of you.
"i want to make you feel good... please please let me make you feel good"
he whispered to himself, finally cumming into his fist again. he made such a mess of himself, cum all over his hand and his stomach. catching his breath, he gets up to clean himself off with a towel. laying back down, he closes his eyes to try to sleep, finally feeling relaxed.
but still, it wasn't enough. that night he dreamt of you. messy, disconnected dreams with no plot, no context. just endless snippets of biting flesh, throaty moans, dark rooms. visions of sparkling summer days being sullied by foul, perverted fantasies. he fucks you by the koi pond in the courtyard. you ride his face on a table in the dining hall. you ride his cock in the infirmary, using him over and over again to make yourself cum. an empty, an unmarked hallway he doesn't recognize, you push him against a wall, on your knees sucking his cock. his dreams, cut short every time he's about to cum. he wakes up sweating and moaning into his pillow. he's face down, dry humping his bed. a wet pool of precum stains his sheets. he sits up frantically, his cock throbbing so hard it hurts. tears prick his eyes in frustration, he doesn't understand what's happening. in about 18 hours, it felt like he came down with a horrible sickness.
or an agonizing addiction.
he had never been so possessed by anyone or anything before. nothing had overtaken his mind so quickly and so viciously. he is utterly haunted by you, all of this over some dirty laundry. angrily, he slams open his drawer, grabbing the small white bag. pulling the strings open with his teeth, hurriedly pulling out your panties.
fuck it. i need you.
he shoves them to his face and begins furiously stroking his cock. it's slick and wet with precum, he's so close yet so far from his release. angrily, bitterly, he huffs and pants desperately trying to get you out of his head. your smell floods his brain, all he can think about is your gushing pussy cumming all over his face. his cock. his fingers, his thigh. biting your lower lip and pulling back as you moan into him, fucking you into his mattress.
angry, bitter lust.
"just let me go-fuck, oh my god-i need you so badly. why can't i just sleep???"
he whines into his fist. he shoves your panties in his mouth again, hoping to trigger his orgasm. he tastes you on the thin soft cotton, and it pushes him even further. but still, he can't be satisfied. he needs to move, he needs to physically feel like you're here. he needs to fuck something. he would fuck a doorknob right now if it meant he would have peace. he gets up, grabbing his pillows. he lays them one on top of the other, spits on his hand to wet himself more, and shoves his cock between them. he's so embarrassed and ashamed of what he doing, he's fucking his pillows like a spun out loser. hot waves of shame wash over him but it doesn't matter. if he can sleep after this, he can just pretend it never happened. maybe he can throw out these panties after, maybe this will be enough to rid him of this horrible plague. it's not tight enough, so he lays on the pillows fucking into them, sucking on your panties. it's a horrible, disgustingly lewd sight. he's whining and whimpering, grunting like an animal.
he's lost all composure.
he fantasizes about your tight wet pussy sucking in his cock over and over again, your tits bouncing around under him as you moan his name. seeing your stomach rise and fall with every thrust, fucking deeper and deeper into you. slow languid strokes turning to frenzied animalistic thrusts. he fantasizes about his hand on your throat, feeling you swallow and choke on your words as you cum, your pussy gushing and squelching and squeezing around him, your pretty face twisting into a look of pure pleasure-
its enough to send him over the edge.
he cums even harder than he did the first time. his vision spotty and white, his orgasm lasting so long it's painful. his cock twitching and throbbing as he dumps so much cum between his pillowcases. he makes a sound he didn't know he was capable of, some sort of grunt? scream? something near inhuman as his release washes over him, choking and gagging on your panties.
he collapses on top of the disgusting mess he made, too exhausted to even feel ashamed. he throws the pillows onto the floor, pulls your panties from his mouth, now wet with drool and puts them back in the bag, and gently puts them back in his bedside drawer. throwing off the rest of his clingy, sweaty clothes, he collapses on his bed finally sleeping soundly until morning.
to his horror, this was far from the end of his torture.
every night like clockwork, he would toss and turn restlessly until he was forced to pleasure himself. if he didn't, he would wake up dry humping his bed with an angry throbbing erection he'd have to get rid of anyway. he would always go through the same routine, ignoring the hole burning into his bedside table by your panties tucked away amongst the clutter, trying to fuck his fist hard enough to satiate his needs.
when that would inevitably fail, he would shamefully pull out your panties to sniff and suck on them until he came. if that didn't work, he would find something to fuck. the disaster he made with his pillowcases was a hassle.
the next morning he had to scurry into the bathhouse and wash them in the early morning light before putting them in his laundry so nobody- godforbid you- found them covered in cum.
so that wasn't an option.
he often resorted to just humping his bed, or balling up his sheets at his waist and fucking those. but it came with the same risk, what if someone found them? eventually he resorted back to fucking his pillows again. if felt the best, and he could steal extra pillow cases from the linen closet in the hall and keep washing the ones he ruined in the bathhouse before anyone woke up. as long as it wasn't often, he could manage that.
but none of that eased his shame.
your panties were losing their smell, and seeing you around the mansion made it so much worse. the days he saw you, those were the nights where he was forced to fuck his pillows like a pervert.
he was running out of options.
he can't cum without your underwear smothering him, and the gentle touches you'd leave on his arms and back as you walked by, greeted him, talked to him about your day, they went straight to his cock. being around you, just smelling the air around u was torture. you smells so sweet, so warm. you were gentle and brave, you were kind and thoughtful. you brought him snacks and water while he trained, you told him about your family and what you liked to do when you weren't working. you listened when he shared his insecurities, not sure if he would be able to become a hashira or cure his sister. you were such a great friend, and he ruined it by being such a disgusting pervert.
one night, he tossed and turned until his restless legs brought him out of bed. the cicadas chirping outside his window, the moonlight pouring in between the slatted windows. his eyes would not stay closed, no matter what he did. his sexual frustration wouldn't subside and he was sick of abusing his poor body with no satisfaction. as his legs carried him in paces around his room, he began gathering his things to head to the bath house. by this time, it would've been empty for hours. some warm water and the tranquility of the water lapping over the edge of the small pool will soothe his frenzied nerves, surely.
padding out across the grass, he moves quietly so not to disturb anyone trying to sleep with open windows.
walking around the side to the men's washroom, he takes a few slow deep breaths.
this is gonna soothe him, it's going to be okay.
the warm light of the bath house welcoming him, he strips of his pajamas and steps into the shower. the cool water washes over him, already whisking away the heat of distress on his skin. stepping out loosely holding a towel around his waist, he slings his bag of clothing and toiletries over his shoulder. as he approaches the large double doors into the bath, he can hear the water stirring. he pauses trying to figure out who it is. the air is clouded by the smell of wisteria and floral soaps, he can't make anything out. assuming it's just someone else up for a late night soak, he walks in. he's already made the decision he will just have to politely decline small talk, he's in no position to socialize at the moment.
he steps inside, the hot medicinal steam hits his face. so warm, he already felt a little calmer. as he is about to drop his towel and get in the water, your head pops up out of the water. your eyes meet, and you both let out surprised yelps.
he clutched his towel tighter as you quickly sink back into the water covering your chest with your arms.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE???" you both screech at each other.
oh my god, she's naked. her slick wet body, hot and sudsy from the bath. dear god, this is the last thing i needed right now. fuck, im already getting hard just knowing she's in here.
he quickly turned around, giving you privacy to get out and grab your towel.
his face, beet red and sweating as he stares intently at the wall listening to you scurry out of the bath splashing water onto the floor and dripping onto the tile as you hurry to the bench nearby to wrap yourself in a towel.
"i-im sorry i didn't mean to interrupt you. i didn't think anyone was awake, i can leave if you want." he says quickly, his voice about two octaves higher than it usually is.
"no!!! ahem-no, it's okay i was getting out soon anyway." you say as the shuffle of your towel echos around the room, "i'm covered now, you don't have to keep staring at the paint on the wall now."
you let out a gentle laugh, trying to ease his tension.
he slowly turns around keeping his eyes trained at the floor and his towel tight to his hips, hands in front of his hard cock trying to hide it under the bunchy plush fabric.
slowly he peels his eyes up and meets your face, only to quickly look back down at the floor.
even with your towel on, he could clearly see every gentle curve of your body. your breasts spilling slightly over the top of your towel, the small slit running up your side exposing your upper thigh and the point of your hip. your shoulders still wet and steaming, your entire body glossy and wet. wispy strands of hair cling to your forehead, slicked down around your face, your cheeks were flushed. your looked so soft.
he could feel your gaze on him, his taut, scarred body beaded with water and his hair wet and dripping onto his shoulders.
do you like seeing me like this?
he wondered selfishly.
you moved a step or two closer to him,
"i'm sorry i embarrassed you, i was just having a hard time sleeping so i thought a bath would help me relax. are you okay?" you say, trying to catch his eye.
trying to look up to meet your face again, he replies quietly "i couldn't sleep either so i had the same idea. must be the cicadas i guess. i'm fine, im sorry i interrupted you."
he bows stiffly in apology, still white knuckling the front of his towel to pin down his throbbing erection.
"really, it's okay! no need to apologize! i'll leave you be, i hope it helps you feel sleepy. i'll see you tomorrow!" you said cheerfully.
you gather your belongings, adjusting your towel. to his delight and horror, letting small slivers of your skin peek out as you move.
it was torture. the last thing he wanted was for you to leave, but if you didn't get out he was going to embarrass himself. he wanted to drop to his knees sobbing begging for you to touch him, and if you didn't leave that minute he just might do it. as his eyes followed you out, he squeaked out a weak little "see ya!" he watched as your short towel hiked up the curve of your ass as you walked, your soft shiny thighs rubbing together.
at this point, he might as well throw himself face first into the bath and wait until he drowned because there was no way he was sleeping anymore.
the doors swung shut behind you, leaving him in the ringing silence of the bath house.
he stood there frozen for a few moments, feeling your noticeable absence from the room. it felt like someone sucked the air out of his lungs. you were so close to him, within 5 steps. you were dripping wet and naked 5 steps away from him.
and now you were gone.
he dropped his towel and smacked his hands onto his face letting out a frustrated cry. he hard cock sprang free and smacked his stomach with a heavy thwap!
his hands and feet felt tingly from all the adrenaline of embarrassment. rubbing his eyes and dropping his hands, he sat down on the edge of the water sinking his legs in. it was hot and soothing on his muscles, but the warmth only made his sexual desire worse. the bath you were in just moments ago, empty as he slid the rest of his body in. sinking up to his shoulders, he instinctively grabbed his cock as it throbbed painfully under the water. gently stroking it trying to alleviate the pain, he let out a small whimper.
this is disgusting, i'm pleasuring myself in your bath water. what have you done to me?
he was overtaken by his fantasies, desire ruling his every move.
quick images of your flushed face panting as he bent you over the arm of the bench and fucked you stupid flashed under this eyelids.
he thought about taking you back into the showers and falling to his knees, throwing your leg over his shoulder and eating your sopping wet pussy until you gushed onto his face.
fondling and sucking on your plump round tits, pink and swollen from the hot water.
she just got clean, i want her to come back so i can ruin her.
quietly whining, he leaned his head back on the lip of the pool screwing his eyes shut.
he began to quicken his pace, the waves of movement created by his shoulder began lapping on the edge of the whole bath, radiating away from him.
why did you have to be in here?
he thought to himself, distraught over how exposed you were to him.
he wanted to cry, he wanted you to come back. he needed you to come back to the bath house and touch him. his own hands were rendered worthless to him, they didn't bring him the release he needed so so badly.
tears once again began welling up in his eyes as he furiously beat his dick under the water.
"please, please, please. i need you, please come back. i can't keep doing this alone." he quietly cried to himself, getting closer to cumming with each tearful beg he confessed to the empty bath house.
"please, please-oh fuck, god please yes" he gasped as he came into the water, praying nobody came to use the baths before they got drained at 5am.
exhausted and ashamed of himself, he got out of the water and showered off in the washroom.
this has to be the most pathetic thing i've ever done in my life.
he trudged back to his dorm and collapsed asleep on his bed.
however, this was not the last time he would pleasure himself in such a risky manner.
it got so bad sometimes, he needed to stop training to jerk off in the bathroom. he's catch you on the outskirts of the training field watching him. he would get flustered, wondering if you liked watching him the way he watched you. he saw you carry large buckets of water to the laundry outside, you were so strong.
did you think the same of him ? did you like watching the way he moved ? he was getting faster and more agile by the day, did he impress you ?
all of those questions just brought him back to those dreams he had, those anguished lustful dreams.
would you scratch up my back in ecstasy? would you bite my neck and make me yours?
he would excuse himself from training to hide in a bathroom, now carrying the small bag with your underwear in his pocket, no longer hidden away in his bedside drawer. he would pull them out to hold to his face while he quickly pleasured himself so he could survive his day.
weeks went by, your panties having long lost their scent, at this point being more of a comfort to him than anything else. still, he couldn't cum without them. he slept with them tucked under his pillow, falling asleep with them tangled around his fingers. in a way, you were there with him. he would lay awake wondering what you were doing, fantasizing about you bathing after a long day, brushing your hair before bed, how soft your pajamas would feel against his body as he held you while you slept. he wanted to comfort you if you woke up with nightmares, gently pushing your hair out of your face and telling you that you're safe, you are loved.
loved?
is this love?
he had been so consumed with the shame and guilt over his unending lust for you, he didn't really allow himself to dwell on how he longed for you romantically. he wanted to hold you. he wanted to kiss your forehead, pet your hair. he wanted to comfort you. he wanted to take care of you. he wanted to listen to every word you had to say. he wanted to start a simple mundane life together. maybe someday he will make charcoal again, this time with a family he gets the chance to keep safe.
this wasn't what he had planned, but it was already getting in his way. his perverted nightly rituals eating up his time, sneaking off to the bathroom during the day to furiously masturbate, it was already forcibly making room in his life.
i should talk to her. even if she doesn't feel the same way, maybe telling her will end this. maybe putting it out into the universe will bring me peace.
that night, he decided he'd find you the next day and tell you how he felt.
that morning, he saw you in the dining hall eating breakfast with your friends, as you usually do. you were laughing and nodding along to a story someone was telling- your favorite. he liked to listen too, maybe someday you'd tell him more of your stories. he walked up to you, greeting you with a wave. you smile sweetly and say "good morning tanjiro! did you sleep well?"
"uh yeah, i did. what are your plans for the day? are you busy around lunchtime?"
"well, this morning i have a study group with some friends from my pharmaceutical class, usually i'd work until i was done and eat lunch after but i can break when your training is over. what for?"
"oh nothing important, i just wanted to catch up if you're okay with making the time."he said, looking down at his feet.
you smile again, "i'd always make the time for you." your face quickly reddens and you blurt out "i mean, for anyone really, i am just always so excited to have lunch with my friends."
he smells true embarrassment on you, and he softens. you feel flustered around him, just the same as he does around you. maybe if he tells you, you'd feel the same way. either way, this will bring him peace. it has to.
lunch rolls around and you meet in the corner of the courtyard. 3 large cherry blossom trees are tucked away against the tall fences surrounding the property. the shade feels cool and smells like damp grass. you sit on the wooden bench next to him with your box lunch in hand. you chat for a while, talking about how your days have been and he tells you about the most recent time inosuke acted like a deranged animal in public. you laugh, it feels easy and light. his face grows more serious and he clears his throat.
"honestly, i did have a reason to ask you to spend your lunch with me today. i have something i wanted to tell you, if that's alright."
you grow a bit nervous, what if he's leaving? what if he's sick? whatever it is though, you want to hear it. "okay, yeah go ahead."
he turns to you more deliberately, setting his box lunch on the ground. "i don't know how you'll feel about this, and i don't expect you to feel the same way, but i wanted to tell you anyway. the truth is, i didn't sleep well last night. or the night before. i fell in love with you last year, and it's been growing heavier on me for a while now. you've been taking up space in my mind, keeping me up at night. i thought maybe if i told you i'd finally sleep a little better. i didn't tell you before because i really enjoy your company, and if you thought i only saw you as a pretty face, you wouldn't want to talk to me anymore. but if you'd still allow me to be your friend after knowing how i feel, i would be more than happy to remain friends with you. and even if i don't sleep any better after this, if i still get to call you my friend, i will always be content with that."
he felt like he was lying a little, of course he would be happy to remain her friend, but 'content' was not the case. he would still suffer his anguished, lustful dreams and fitful nights of insatiable neediness, but it wouldn't matter as long as you were still around. he would put up with you haunting his every move if it meant you would still give him your attention.
your face was red and you fidgeted with your ring incessantly, processing what he just told you. you look to his face for reassurance that you don't have to respond yet, and you were met with a look of patience and a soft smile. he didn't mind waiting for you. and he didn't mind your response, whatever it may be.
"i..." you start slowly, "i have felt the same about you, since your second week here. i was crying outside on the porch of the dorms, and you comforted me. i was afraid because my mother was sick at the time, and you held me and made me feel stronger. you asked about her often, and when i told you she got better a few weeks later, you were genuinely happy to hear it as if you knew her yourself. you are ... bright and w-warm and i like being around you. i wat- i notice you training sometimes, and it makes me feel... braver. it can be scary seeing you come back home- back to the mansion, i mean- hurt all the time. but you get stronger every day, so it makes it easier to put away my worry. i... i worry about you when you're gone and i-i.. miss you. i miss you when you aren't here."
he shifts in his seat, rubbing his palms on his thighs, "wow, that's amazing to hear' you are so kind to me but i always thought you were kind to everyone, that it wasn't personal. i can't believe it! if it's okay with you, i want to tell you a little more about my feelings for you." there's hesitation in his voice as he looks to you for permission.
"of course, i'd like to hear your them. id like to hear all of them, actually." you say sheepishly, looking at your lap.
all of them?..
his mind floods with all the perverted fantasies he has for you, every sleepless night spent writhing in sexual frustration, desperately fucking his fist or his sheets or his pillows, rubbing his cock raw trying to push the vile indulgence out of his mind, tortured by thoughts of pleasuring you over and over again.
not that, obviously.
"i-um.. sorry, i got lost for a second there." he shifted in his seat, trying to hide a growing bulge in his pants. "i think you are so kind and warm. you and i are very similar in a lot of ways, we both find beauty and peace in the mundane. like how you enjoy the cool water of the laundry on hot days, and i like watching the sun rise every day. i like it when you are the one to take care of me when im hurt.... i-i miss your touch when you leave." he said, choking out that last bit.
your eyes grow wide, your cheeks flush. he can smell that strange emotion on you again, the one he could never figure out. it was much stronger now than before. it smelled like embarrassment, but there was something else there. it was... urgent, almost.
"you miss me??" you squeak out, looking like you wanted to crawl under the bench and die.
"i'm sorry, i didn't mean to embarrass you, i shouldn't have shared that" he says grabbing your hand trying to comfort you.
that smell grows stronger as that emotion grows within you, he doesn't know what to do to help calm you down.
"no no, please keep going. i want to hear more, i really really do. please believe me, i am thrilled to know that you miss when i- miss me when im not around." you stumble over yourself, holding his hand just as tightly as he's holding yours.
"okay," he says, scooting a little closer you to you, "but only if you tell me what your feeling right now. you smell like you are embarrassed, but i know that's not quite right. something is wrong, and im worried im overwhelming you."
"i'm not embarrassed, im just a little flustered!! i've had feelings for you for a long time, and your telling me not only do you feel the same way, but thinking of me keeps you up at night. i want to know those thoughts, i want to share my own. i'm just embarrassed of how i feel a little, and i don't want you to think i'm weird or anything."
"why would i think you are weird? i think the world of you, you don't have to worry about any of that. if anything, im worried about the same thing."
"it doesn't matter, im just nervous is all."
that emotion smells warm, and musky, almost like....
his heart begins to beat out of his chest. the small white bag begins burning a hole in his pocket, as he realizes.
you feel that same burning pull of desire that's been driving me insane.
"if you are too nervous, i can stop." he says gently, tilting your face up to meet him. he's leaning in closer, inches away from you. his words are soft, but there's a darkness behind them you can feel.
you meet his eyes, your eyelids low and your breath getting ever so slightly heavier.
"no, please don't.." your eyes flutter shut as you lean in to kiss him. you start small, gently pressing your lips together. he pulls back to admire your face, when he kisses you back with more force. he cups his hand around the back of your neck, letting go of your hand to pull you in by the small of your back. his kiss is passionate and urgent, but he's clearly holding back. he bites back a groan as you bite his lower lip, pulling it into your mouth to suck on it.
you let go, pressing your forehead to his, "can you tell me more about how you feel about me ?"
his mind was racing, he needed more.
your lips were soft and warm and they tasted so good, his cock was throbbing against his waistband. he had so much he wanted to tell you, so many ways he wanted to please you, he had no idea what to say or where to start.
"i can tell you i've wanted to kiss you for a really long time. that day we sat together in early summer, on the bench across the courtyard ? you were showing me your mothers ring and all i could think about was how badly i wanted you to hold my face again, like when i was in the infirmary."
you reach up and cup his face, running your thumb over his bottom lip. his breath catches in his throat, and he begins breathing a little heavier. he leans his face into your hand, pushing into you as if to feel your touch more somehow.
his lips part slightly and he gently bites your thumb.
"i think..." he said, barely above a whisper, "that you have the prettiest hands.."
he takes your hand off his face and places a sloppy kiss on the inside of your wrist, "and i can see how hard they work."
he kisses your wrist again, licking it slightly. "and i can tell you that when i can't sleep, i am kept up over thoughts of how.... to please you."
it was too much. your thighs were clenched so tight, you were so wet it was smearing down your legs and you couldn't stand not being closer to him. you jumped up from your spot on the bench, startling him. you grab his wrist and drag him away, hurriedly saying '
"come with me, please. we gotta go somewhere else."
you drag him into the dorm hall, down the caretaker hall. you throw open your bedroom door, it slides into the wall with a loud thunk. you turn to him in a puff, "do you want to come in? with me, i mean?"
without hesitation he steps in behind you and says "absolutely."
he grabs your face and kisses you hard, exploring your mouth with his tongue. he hooks his hands down under your knees and lifts you up. as you hook your ankles around his waist he lets out a stifled moan, feeling your body on his was like sticking his fingers in an outlet. he had punished his cock endlessly over daydreams like this, and here he was, sinking onto the edge of your bed with you in his lap.
his mouth leaves yours, and begins leaving urgent, red marks down your neck. you slowly start grinding on him, and he's fighting back whimpers and moans. it's perfect. it's everything. he needs more. he reaches for your collar and tugs on it, whispering in your ear "may i?"
you nod, softly moaning as he continues kissing, licking and biting your neck from your earlobe to your collarbone. he begins unbuttoning your jacket and peeling it off you.
your thin, white undershirt. this is heaven.
he slips his hands under the hem, feeling your stomach, your back, stopping right at the curve of your breasts. "can i- touch you- more please ?" he says desperately between kisses.
"god, please" you say breathlessly.
he lifts your shirt up over your head, stopping to admire your body. "you are even more beautiful than i imagined" he said as he began squeezing and sucking on your chest.
you cry out in pleasure and quickly slap your hand over your mouth. "you-ahh fuck- you thought of m-me like this ?" you whisper, already knowing answer.
"what do you think has been keeping me up at night ? you haunt me, my love. i am tortured by the thought of pleasing you."
he lifts you up and gently tosses you onto your bed. he grabs you hands, lacing his fingers between yours and holding you hands above your head. he kisses you, sloppy and desperate to taste more of you.
more.
more.
more.
it's all he can think of.
his strong, muscular body is sprawled out between your legs. he pulls himself up until he can grind his cock into you.
soon, the friction from his pants is too much. he pulls away, asking if he can take his clothes off. "can i take them off for you?" you ask shyly.
he smiles and lifts his arms. you peel off his shirt, and you are still enthralled by his beauty. you've seen him topless plenty of times, between spying on him during training and treating his wounds in the infirmary, you've seen enough of his body to make anyone blush.
but never like this.
never in the hushed frenzy of hands and tongues in your room.
you trace the scar on his hip, a sad look flashes over your face. he notices and grabs your hand, he places it flat on his stomach. "i'm okay now, don't worry. i remember, im better now because of you."
he peels off your pants, leaving behind your underwear. he does the same for himself, leaving behind his. he lays back on top of you and begins kissing down your neck again, down to your chest, but this time not stopping there. he drags long stripes with his tongue down between the valley of your chest, biting and kissing your stomach on the way down. it's every fantasy he'd had about you all crashing into him right now. he was so hard it hurt but he ignored it.
this wasn't something he wanted to push away or rush through.
he had spent months agonizing over every little detail, every way he wanted to please you. he was going to do all of it. he stopped at your underwear and sat up, lifting your thigh to his mouth kissing and licking down it until he reached your ankle. he wanted to worship your body, the body that works so hard to keep the mansion running, the body that houses the girl he loves. he drops your leg and sinks back down to the hem of your underwear, hooking his fingers around them on your hips. "can i take these off?" he said quietly with heavy eyelids.
"y-yes please. i need you too." you whispered in response, lifting your hips to help him get them off faster.
he pulled them between his teeth, his breath tickling your stomach, causing more butterflies to erupt inside you. he slipped them down to your knees with his teeth, then tossing them aside with them hooked around his finger in one fluid motion. sticky strands of your wetness cling to the fabric, smearing on your thighs as he pulled them off. he cleaned you up quickly, licking the wet spots down your thighs.
this is so much better than sucking on her panties.
unconsciously palming his throbbing cock through his underwear. he leans his cheek on your thigh looking down at your dripping pussy. "god, your even more beautiful than i imagined you were. look at her, your pretty pussy" he says as he lays back down, kissing from your belly button until just above your clit.
squirming and writhing with impatience, you whimper out a small "please, tanjiro."
your eyes meet.
that was all he needed, the last straw.
he dove in hungrily, sucking and slurping your dripping wet pussy, burying his face into you. you let out a gasp, clamping your hand over your mouth as you let out a deep groan from the bottom of your stomach.
he reaches up to pinch and roll your nipples between his fingers, he just started but you already feel close.
so much anticipation, so many times you've watched him train, watched his rippling sweaty body in the sunlight- trapping those thoughts for later when you'd rush into your dorm after a bath and play with your pussy until you were too exhausted to continue.
that night he found you in the bath house kept you awake for hours after.
you look down at him, his deep red eyes staring up at you full of lust, something so dark behind them. he plunged his tongue into you so deeply, fucking you and slurping on your gushing wet pussy. "c-can i tell you something ?" you gasp out breathlessly trying not to scream from the pleasure.
"of course-you can" he replied between thick wet kisses on your clit.
he eased up, gently nibbling and sucking on it so you could respond easier.
"i touch myself almost every night thinking about you in my room like this. i- i even stole one of your shirts from the laundry once just so i c-could have you closer while i did it." you let out a raspy moan as he sucked harder.
he let go and sat up for a moment, eyes darkening. a smile creeps up his face as he asks, "can i tell you something then ?"
you whined at the lack of stimulation, but nodded softly.
"you dropped your panties in the hallway around a month ago. i wanted to give them back, i really did. but i couldn't. i punished my body with them for weeks, soon i couldn't finish without them in my mouth or on my face. they are in my pants pocket right now."
he shifted up to look at you easier, and smiled wickedly," i've been carrying them around for 13 days now."
your eyes grow wide, as it dawns on you. all those sweet, innocent interactions.
all those pleasantries and small lingering stares, the whole time he had your dirty, soiled underwear in his pocket.
he stuffed them in his mouth when he came.
he was a panty sniffing creep, and he was all for you.
you grab his face and pull him up, crashing into him. his face covered in your slick, creating a sloppy wet kiss.
you accepted him, not only that, you seemed elated at the idea that he stole your underwear, forcing himself to cum over and over with them. god, you were everything he could've ever wanted.
"hold on, hold on, im not done. let me keep going for a little while longer. please, i need to." he whispered into your lips.
you nod, as he sunk back down to gently place a kiss on your clit. but that gentleness didn't last long, he quickly became consumed by you again. the smell of your pretty pussy had filled the room the minute he took your pants off, the lust emanating off your body was palpable in the air. he was devouring you viciously, his eyes darkened and hazy.
he was unconsciously grinding against your mattress, moaning into your pussy.
"you taste- so fucking good. god i love it" he mumbled into your soft wet lips.
you began to feel your orgasm coming on, and quickly. 'ahh-fuck, wait- slow down- i'm gonna-'
"say it."
"i'm gonna cum! fuck-i'm gonna cum tanjiro!" your whole body grinding into his face, as he pushed his jaw into your wet throbbing pussy.
he growled and gripped your thighs tighter, pulling himself even deeper into you. one of your hands smacked over your mouth to keep you from screaming, the other laced it's way into his long dark hair, gripping it and using it to twist his tongue around on you. you gush onto his face, panting and moaning into your hand. he shudders and groans, over and over saying "mhm, mhm~" encouraging you to use him.
your stiff, shaking legs relax as you come down, slumping back onto the pillows.
he slows down with you, matching your body language. he pulls off you, placing gentle yet firm kisses on your clit, helping you ride out the end of your orgasm.
"thank you." he says, his eyes still dark and low.
you blush and hide your face in your hands, "i don't know what your thanking me for."
"for letting me please you. it's all i want to do. i want to worship you until my body breaks down. i want to satisfy every craving you have. can i keep going?" he says, as he places long sloppy kisses on your thigh, leaving red marks up and down them.
"yes please, i still need so much from you" you reply breathlessly.
he dips back down and begins sucking on your clit again, but this time he brings one of his hands around and gently rubs your lips with his fingers. he spreads you open and slowly starts sinking one of his fingers into you. just that small amount of stretch felt so good, you felt yourself clench around him, your body desperate for more of him. he groaned into your pussy, muttering something like "fuck, you're pulling me in~" but it was hard to hear over your own raspy moans and whimpers.
he pulled out his finger to add a second one, stretching you further. his fingers felt large, and rough, worn from battle. he began slowly pumping them in an out, noticing how your moans would get higher and quicker the more he ran his fingers over that nub of flesh inside you.
"ahh-fuck, oh my god' you cried, 'it's so much, fuck it feels too good. please, faster, im gonna cum!!"
he sucked harder on your clit, pushing his jaw into you again while pumping in and out of your dripping wet pussy. you were clenching and throbbing around him, sucking his fingers back in. he was shuddering and grinding into the bed again, desperately trying to hold back cumming himself.
you cried out, calling his name over and over as you came on his face and hands, you squirted all over his fingers, gushing down his jaw and neck.
god, you made such a fucking mess.
he rides it out with you, easing up and slowly pulling his fingers out of you.
sitting up, he sticks his finger into his mouth sucking them and licking his hands down to his wrists, cleaning himself off. he wipes his face with his hand, and reaches into his pants to smear your cum all over his cock.
the air was thick and heady, his head swimming from all the pleasure in the air.
on his knees, he looked down at you pleasuring himself. the wet spot in his underwear growing as he touched himself. his eyebrows scrunched, and his jaw hanging open, he let out small guttural moans. he fell down onto you, propping himself up over your face his long hair hanging around you as he continued stroking his cock inside his underwear. "please.... can i take them off? can i please fuck you?" he begs, never taking his eyes off your face.
you hook your fingers around his underwear and pull them down enough to let his cock spring free. it was red and twitching and angry desperate to be inside you. you grab his hips and roughly pull him down onto you, the hilt of his cock wetly slapping onto your pussy with a squelch. "please fuck me, i have needed you for so long." you whisper as you grab his face and kiss him deeply, as if he had been gone for days.
his breath catches in his throat as his cock finally makes contact with you for the first time. without thinking, he began grinding into you, thick wet sounds reverberated around the room. you were so wet, so covered in cum that his cock glided so easily on you. he could've cum from this alone, but he couldn't. he was so close to getting what he needed, he had to hold back. he hooked his arm under your back and pulled you closer. he moved from your lips to your neck, sucking on your earlobe, gasping and moaning in your ear. "c-can you put me inside you? if i watch im going to cum. i-hah fuck- i need you to do it." he said through gritted teeth.
you reach down between the two of you and grab his cock. he stifles a moan as you give it a few cautionary strokes, before rubbing the tip between your lips to gather some of your wet cum. you angle it into yourself, and grab his hips to slowly push him into you. his eyes shoot open and lock with yours, letting out a loud "ohhhh fuuccckkkkk~" as his eyes roll back a little and his jaw hangs open.
you keep going, whimpering as it stretches you out. you reach the base of his long, thick cock, the red puffs of hair tickling your clit. you grind down onto him, slowly rocking your hips back and forth trying to get used to it. he's frozen, choking on his own moans trying to comprehend what he's feeling.
it's exactly what he thought it would be.
no, it's so much better.
all those nights spent fucking his pillows like a creep, when just one hall over the sweetest, tightest, wettest, prettiest pussy was getting fingered and played with to the thought of him. it was almost cruel, realizing that as your pussy clenched tightly around him, he could've had it sooner.
he slowly started rolling his hips with you, every bit of friction on his cock, every throb of your pussy felt like overstimulation. he needed it so badly for so long, now that he had it, it's overwhelming. he pushes past the urge to cum and begins pumping long, slow, deep strokes into you. every time he bottoms out and feels your cervix around the head of his cock, you both moan in unision. you were both breaking down under the weight of your lust for each other.
"fuck, your cock feels so amazing. it's better than i thought it would be!!" you cry out, tears welling up in your eyes.
your praise goes straight down to his cock. looking down at you crying over the pleasure he could give you, it was crippling. his elbows buckle, no longer able to hold himself up to watch you bounce under him. he wraps his other arm that's not under you around the back of your neck and starts biting into your shoulder "god, your-fuckfuck ahh- your pussy is p-perfect, you keep sucking me back in. it's so wet and tight, i can't take it!! it's-god, fuck- it's too good!!" he wells with tears too, you are both so overcome with pleasure you are crying and clawing at each other.
you leave thick red scratches down his back as he continues to fuck you hard and slow, leaving bite marks and dark purple hickeys all over your neck. you drool into his shoulder unable to speak, mumbling and moaning loosely about how good it feels, how badly you need his cum, how you dreamed of him fucking you like this.
but with every sound you make, he gets closer and closer to cumming inside your sweet little pussy. he begins to fuck you faster and harder, drilling his hips into you as he sits up and spreads your thighs open for him. his face looks angry and dark as he tries desperately not to cum. "oh my god, yes-fuck!!! i'm gonna cum, tanjiro!!! im gonna cum on your cock please keep going!!!"
thank god, he thought. he was not going to be able to keep this up much longer but he had to make you cum before he did. your bouncing tits and your slack jawed, fucked out face was making it so much harder for him to keep up. he looked down at the mess you were making on him, your wet slick running all the way up to just under his belly button, matting down his happy trail, and dripping down his balls. there was a creamy ring of your cum all over the hilt of his cock. every wet smack and squelch of your tight little pussy was ruining him. he felt you begin to shake and clench around him, sucking him in even harder. your pussy was milking his cock for cum and it was too much.
you both crash into each other in a tangle of limbs and guttural, animalistic groans as you both cum so hard you are seeing stars. you squirt all down the length of his cock, splashing up onto both of your stomachs as he cums deep into your pussy. you feel the throb of his cock as it pumps deep against your cervix as you clench around him, milking him for more.
he whimpers and drools against your shoulder as he comes down, you shudder and weakly grind your clit against him as you fuck the last of your high off. you both lay there in the sticky mess you made, just breathing in each other for a while.
he pulls you in tight, holding you close against him. "i meant what i said, i fell in love with you. i fell in love with your kindness, your serenity. you are a blue spring, you radiate a warmth that i don't think i've gotten to know since i was a child. i love you, i wasn't just saying it."
you push him off a bit so you could see his face, and cup your hands around his jaw. "i know, and i love you too. i'll always be here to take care of you."
he slowly pulls his half-hard cock out of you, watching his cum spill out onto the bed around you. he gets up pulls a towel from your closet. he cleans you off and lays down next to you, lightly tracing circles on your stomach.
"so, what do you think our excuse should be for never coming back from lunch ?"
☆♡☆★♡☆★♡☆★♡☆
part two here
(authors note #2: this was my first fic!! weeeeeee!!! if u liked it and u want a follow up kinda diving into the start of their relationship please let me know <333 thank u for reading!! byeeeeee<33☆)
my life has been a roller coaster and it's not going to slow down honestly until probably this coming fall/winter, so posts will be sporadic. i didn't abandon my blog!! i've had writers block and im too busy and too tired and too anxious to have space for creativity. i've seen all the love on my work and i will come back to this when i can. i love u all thank u so much for still reading in my absence <33
You meet Suguru Geto at your local library!! There's more mysteries behind the front desk in chunky black boots than you found poking through the shelves.
content: fluff!! academic-esque topics, this story will include smut but not in this chapter (will note when it will occur) Fem!Reader x Suguru Geto, slow burn if you squint?
word count: 4.5k <3
authors note: sorry for being inactive!! health issues + generic life chaos kept me chronically offline (rip) this was inspired by a lottt of different things. i wanted to write a dark academia-ish geto story, and then i was reading kafkas metamorphosis + the castle and i was like 'rip suguru, u would've loved kafka' and then i watched Whiplash and then i was watching Your Lie In April and THEN i saw photos of st. paul's cathedral library and i was like 'oh bitch. it's all coming together.' so yeah!!! i hope u like it!!! it's v plot heavy so if ur just here for smut i'll be posting some more geto shortfics in the future so stay tuned!!
(geto smut: here)
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
perusing the aisles of the quiet, warm library, you thumb through the books on the shelves.
life had snuck up on you so quickly. once, an avid writer, reader, and painter. now a morning manager at a clothing boutique in the heart of the city.
a college dropout and a doomscroller.
you got into almost every one of your dream schools upon high school graduation, but generations of familial poverty does not soften its heart for a budding scholar. so, you worked 2 jobs to put yourself through your first semester. by the time you threw in the towel and dropped out, you were 30lbs lighter with protruding ribs, anemia and $40,000 in debt.
but life carried on without you paying attention.
working, sleeping, working, sleeping.
menial job to menial job, countless pointless promotions with no added pay, drafty apartments and off-brand dish soap.
suddenly, 5 years went by.
when was the last time i read?
when was the last time i painted?
when was the last time i felt proud of what i did?
you thumbed through the books, looking for a familiar title.
"The Metamorphosis, Franz Kafka"
you spot, the green spine standing out against a slew of brown and red books lining the shelves.
i know this one, i wrote a paper on it my senior year in high school.
you picked it up, inspecting the cover.
it's the same as you remember it, a large beetle on his back struggling to get out of bed.
it would be almost comical if you hadn't known how the story ended.
you walk over to a round table with 2 chairs tucked in the corner of the empty reading area. it's no bigger than a small table you'd find inside a cozy diner that's just shy of enough space for the plates you'd share with someone across from you.
soft warm lighting and a dusty smell of paper and pen ink filled the air in the library.
the dark wood of the table was nostalgic to you, it pulled you back to all those years spent toiling over stories, filling your head with adventure and heartache.
reading so ferociously, you'd find yourself sat at a table much like this one for hours. getting up for food and to stretch, only to find that your back was aching and your elbows red from leaning on them.
the last one in the school library, the first one at the door in the crisp fall mornings outside the public library on weekends, the last one up in the house at night.
yellow, dusty reading lamps and a heavy backpack full of books.
why did i let go of that so easily?
it was almost nerve-wracking, beginning a book again. it felt almost like trying to rekindle an old love, what if it's not the same this time?
you crack it open, taking a deep breath.
it's going to be okay.
☆☆☆☆☆☆
roughly 70 pages, and a few tears later, you finished the story. regardless of your concerns, you were just as enthralled by the story as you had been any other book you read before. the wonder and passion of a child had not left you, and the comfort in knowing that made you all the more emotional. you were swirling with thoughts,
why didn't i do this sooner?
can i go back to school someday?
why did they hate the poor bug man!!!
you close the book, leaning back in your chair with a sigh.
pushing yourself back between the table and the top of your chair, you crack your back.
rubbing your eyes, and pushing your hair out of your face, you look up at the room around you for the first time in a little over an hour.
to your shock, there is a man across from you at the small table. his legs crossed, a knee propped up on the edge of the table. long dark hair curtaining his face, one hand holding his head up, cupped under his chin balanced on the arm rest. the other holding a small blue book titled 'The Castle, Franz Kafka'. he read intently, eyebrows gently furrowed.
when did he get here?
how could i not have noticed?
funny, he's also reading kafka.
funny, he's also very pretty.
as all these thoughts flood your mind, you find yourself staring.
without looking up, he speaks for the first time.
"sad, isn't it?"
you clear your throat, wondering if he's speaking to you. "sad? what is?"
"the story, the one you read. it's sad. some critics say excessively so." he say coolly, turning the page.
you stutter for a moment, and reply "yeah, it was. i don't understand why they were so angry with him." you take a beat, and continue "i'm trying to get back into reading again, so i picked a book i read in high school to start with. i decided i'd read my favorites again and see where that takes me."
he looks up at you.
dark catlike eyes examine your face. his skin was a pale, almost a sickly shade, but his high cheekbones had a light dusting of pink. his silky black hair wafting around his angled face, his full lips drawn into a delicate smile.
he was, objectively the most beautiful man- maybe person- you had ever seen in your life.
sitting back in his chair, tucking his hair behind one ear, he says "do you feel differently about it now than you did in high school?"
you take a moment to examine him before answering.
a large, black, waffle knit sweater with a white button up poking out the collar, and grey corduroy trousers with the cuff rolled up exposing black, shiny boots. he looked very clean and neat, long elegant lines mapping his frame.
"i think..." you begin slowly, scrunching your eyebrows in contemplation, "i think it's unfair for me to act like i haven't examined this story from an academic perspective. i wrote a paper on it at the time. back then, i took the stance that kafka was trying to get people to understand what it's like to be sick or disabled, to understand what it's like for you to, for whatever reason, no longer be the same as you were yesterday. i think his sympathy, whether it be because of his own illness or simply an empathetic approach to the topic, is relevant and well crafted."
you pause for a moment, before continuing.
"you said many critics condemned the story for how sad it was, seemingly overdoing it. personally, i disagree. i think that the neglect of those who are ill or disabled is something we often ignore for the same reasons- it's too upsetting to look at. so, i don't think my thoughts have changed. i can't seem to understand why they all hated Gregor. i never have. he was just a bug man!!!!" you laugh lightly, "he's just a poor little-well, very large- bug!!!!! he didn't deserve how he was treated, and the point is to make us feel that way."
he raised an eyebrow, his smile growing slightly. "i couldn't have said it better myself."
he looks you up and down slowly, before returning to his book. his gaze was piercing, as if he could see straight through you to the back of the chair.
you shuffle in your seat, feeling his eyes leave you. finding a reason to talk to him again, you say "i noticed you are also reading kafka, but i never read the castle. do you-do you like it?"
your voice cracks a bit at the end, flustering you. you nervously fidget with your hands before quickly stopping and instead folding them on the table, back straight.
he looks up at you again, flicking his eyes up.
"yes. it was the last story he worked on before he passed, it was never finished actually. i've read it a few times."
his face doesn't turn away from the page, but his eyes held a steady wash over you.
"can you tell me what it's about?"
he smiles again, leaning back in his chair once more. "i can't, i'd hate to ruin it for you. but i'll talk with you about it after you read it."
he snaps the book closed and set it on the table, getting up from his chair.
standing over you, you notice just how tall he his. his long, broad frame towers over you in your chair- you are eye level with his belt buckle.
you feel your face grow hot as you stumble over your words, "i'd love that! i mean- that would be nice. how will i know how to tell you when im done?"
"i work here, just come back and tell me." he smiles over his shoulder, as he turns to walk away.
looking down at the table, he had set The Castle down on top of The Metamorphosis.
you sit for a moment, digesting your conversation.
picking them both up, you return your book to the correct shelf and bring his to the front desk to check it out. as you approach, you see him leaning over the desk, his hand cupping his jaw as he draws on a small pad of lined paper. as you approach, he covers the paper swiftly with a small stack of books. with his sleeves pushed up, you notice a thick, silver, flat-chained bracelet on his wrist. distinct veins running from his knuckles up his forearm catch your eye. long, slender fingers decorated with a handful of chunky rings twirl his pen in fluid circles, the other hand pushing into his pocket. as you set your book down, he flashes you a smile.
"find what you were looking for, miss?" he said in a bantering tone.
you laugh lightly as you hand over your library card, "i think i did sir, thank you."
he takes a moment to look it over before scanning it. handing it back to you, he says "your name, it's pretty. id like to see it again here soon."
your eyes snap up at him, a hot flush washing over your face. he's gently sliding your book inside a small, brown paper bag.
as he hands it to you, you nod and squeak out a feeble "of course, have a good day, sir."
you quickly turn and begin to walk away.
you stop and look back over at him.
"can i ask yours?"
"suguru geto."
"your name, it's pretty."
he smiles and looks down at the desk, a faint wave of pink over the bridge of his nose. a hand raises to rub the back of his neck, nodding.
"i see, okay. have a good day, miss."
he waves gently, a blush across his cheeks. you wave back, and walk out onto the bustling street.
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
authors note #2: I LOVE HIM GRRR I CANT WAIT FOR U TO READ MORE EEE !!!
Suguru Geto hears you playing with yourself in your apartment begging for him. Roommates are here to help you when you need it, and he is just too eager to please :)
word count: 3.8k <3
content: SMUT!!! 18+!!!! hair pulling, mild choking, P->V penetration, fingering, oral (F!Receiving) dark/gothic sexy talk (idk how to describe it, it's dark and sexy idk) very mild shame kink, praise kink, slight Dom!Suguru
authors note: sorry for the delay!!! i wanted this posted 4 days ago smh... there was so much demand for a p2 i wanted to make sure i got it RIGHT, my princess suguru deserves only the best. this has some mild religious undertones, i kept with the Type O Negative theme and based this one around Christian Woman. thank you so much for all your support!!! MWAH!!! <3333
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
"you called for me, you need some help?"
a wash of cool goosebumps raises your skin as his voice resonates around the room, clashing against the heat in your face as you are stricken with a vulnerability you had been lusting after, but never entirely prepared for.
Suguru strides over to the edge of your bed, placing his large hands adorned with chunky rings on the soft mattress caging in around your feet, a dark wash of need over his face as he watches you, eating you hungrily with his eyes.
your hand still laced between your thighs, mind whirring.
a feeble "can you please?.." falls from your lips, the thick tension in the room snapping.
without another word, he scooped you up, his arm under the arch of your back lifted gently off the bed as he pulled himself on top of you, lips crashing together.
a tangle of limbs finding each other, your arm trapped against your clit for a moment before you find a way out.
the cold buckle of his black jeans pushes against your pelvis as his heavy hands explore your body, sloppy kisses trailing down from your lips, your neck, decorating your chest.
"you've been- calling my name for weeks- when were you going to get brave enough to come get me?" he pants between red love bites.
his breath hot on your skin, his hands squeezing and groping all over your body in a sick adoration. a heady lust tangling your minds like an ugly amalgamation, a thoughtless beast raring it's head.
"i didn't know.." you trail off, so consumed by him unable to think for yourself.
"know what?" he purrs, taking your earlobe into your mouth.
"i didn't-fuck-know if you wanted me" you gasp.
"i've needed you since we met.." he murmured against your neck, sending a shiver down the side of your body.
he sits up, backlit by your tv against the heavy looming darkness of your bedroom. the creeping feeling that maybe you were the last two people alive, or perhaps the first two people to ever experience pleasure swirled in your mind.
the undercurrent, a feeling of singularity.
warching him peel off his shirt against the cold light of the tv screensaver, a uniquely inorganic glow against the most human sight in your known existence encouraged the feeling of a stranded, sequestered experience.
behind the heavy lock of your front door, here you were.
alone in your room with suguru.
a tension had been planted the day you met. watching him walk into the diner, your booth facing the door in the lively bustle of coffee pots and tall stacks of pancakes whisking around between tables, a deafening silence fell around your ears. no longer were you one of many in a crowd, but two halves of a singularity.
you tucked it away, burying it under laundry and moving boxes.
but as the weeks passed and clutter found it's home around the apartment, you kept tripping over that itch laying at the foot of your bed.
that lust was carnal and dark, an urgency you were not fit to embody. so you hid in your room, the heat of your bed hiding you behind yet another locked door.
but the walls were thin, and you were hungry.
he irritated that infection of yours, a sickness he burdened you with. a sculpted back made to be clawed, teeth sinking into his shoulder. long silky black hair you were- as far as you understood- prophesied to tangle your fingers in, tears welling in your eyes as you wracked with pleasure.
how Edwardian, haunting.
but there is no place for reckoning with god in the mundane monotony of a job, the line at the grocery store, the online interface of your rent terminal.
but here you were, lying through your teeth to protect yourself from....
from what?
the very idea you had desires you didn't understand? a darkness you possessed you didn't approve of?
you knew he felt it, you saw it in his eyes. a vicious curiosity bubbled under the surface, a silent chaos under the cool veneer of an aloof bookworm.
why lie? why pretend you didn't see it? once the tension breaks, the church doors open. the confessional is your only solace. kneel upon the grater to find peace and revelation.
stripping himself of invention in front of you, his long broad frame unfurling up over your bed with a looming intimidation, you spill your guts across the sheets.
"i lied," you whisper quietly, "i knew. i was afraid, i think." you twist your fingers together in nervous anticipation.
falling around you, his long arms caging you in under him, his hair a silken sheet curtaining around your face.
"afraid of what?" he said lowly, a softness in his voice.
"i think.... i was afraid to admit i needed you. i didn't want to... acknowledge it." you whispered so quietly, only he would've heard you had you not been so utterly alone with him.
"whats so scary about a need?.." he purrs as he kisses you deeply, sinking into you. ".. you've been haunting me, passing through my walls at night and infecting my dreams. i can say with certainty, i have a need for you." he murmurs against the soft flesh of your lips, trailing kissed and bites down to latch onto your nipple, his strong veined hands groping your chest so hungrily.
"i-it's not that easy" you gasp, stumbling over your own moans getting caught in your throat. "i was afraid it was... dark. that i-aah!" you choke out, already coming undone under him.
his chest pressed to your heaving stomach, his dark hair splayed across your body as he pleases you, slowly- torturously- works his way down your body.
"that you what?" he questions, a syrupy lilt to his voice-somewhere between a genuine curiosity and a mockery of your wavering constitution.
"...that i was doing something wrong." you whisper as if confessing a sin at the knees of a god.
he reaches down to unbuckle his pants, shuffling them down to his knees. laying his weight back on you, the throbbing pulse of his aching cock trapped in his underwear presses against your eager, drooling pussy. a small stifled moan escapes your lips as he grabs your jaw firmly and forces you to look in his dark, heavy eyes.
"do you feel that?" he whispers softly, the ghost of his breath dances across your face as he slowly grinds his cock against your clit.
you squirm and whimper, nodding quickly.
"that is you. that's what you've done to me-" he grinds into you harder, the roll of his body and the taut flex of his stomach hypnotizing you as he stares deeply into your eyes. "-this is the wound you left in me that will never heal. you are the knife i twist inside myself. this is wrong. what we've done to each other is wrong. but do you care so much about the morality of a need to choose to suffer without it?" his hand slowly slides down to rest on your throat, a gentle pressure causing your head to swim as he watches you intently, rolling his thick cock on your clit over and over again, a slow sensuous movement you utterly break down under. "i-" you stutter, tears welling in your eyes as you are overwhelmed with pleasure, "w-we would eat each other like monsters, claw each other to nothing" you whisper frantically, approaching an orgasm, your wet slick soaking the front of his underwear as he continues grinding his hard length into you without reprieve.
he kisses your forehead firmly, his weight shifting over you placing more pressure on your throat as he times your orgasm perfectly, so aware of the sounds you make and what they mean, understanding perfectly what your pleasure looks like.
mumbling against your forehead, he whispers, "i'd destroy myself to please you, to be consumed by you is just as well."
his words shake you to your core, a vile dedication alighting your sheets in a twisted consecration. you undo completely, legs shaking and eyes rolling back as you cum against his thick cock, his name falling mindlessly from your lips over and over again as he gives you the first of many. small encouraging "mhm"s and "just like that" fall over you as he fucks against you, working you through your high.
as you settle, your chest heaving and your legs falling limp, he slowly works off the rest of his clothes and trails his lips down your body once more, this time not stopping at your chest.
savoring and worshipping every inch of your skin, stopping frequently just to rest his chin on you and stare deeply up into your eyes, a palpable reverence emanating off him as he lavishes in the salty sweat on your skin, the plush of your thighs, the music of your gasping breath as you recover.
lacing his thick arms under your thighs, he gently places kisses on the inside of your thighs, licking stripes and devolving into hungered bites, leaving red marks up to your knee. squirming and groaning in his arms, he smiles up at you. "impatient, pretty?"
you hide in your hands, shying away. "no, it just feels g-good" but your body tells another story, hips bucking against his chin as he rests it on your clit, slowly pushing his chin into your wet lips.
"reverence is a slow fever, love." he purrs as he dips down and places light kisses on your clit, the fluttery ticklish brush of his lips on yours was torture. slowly and meticulously swirling his tongue over you, eyes rolling back as he finally tastes you.
"i've waited so long to know you, and you taste amazing" he mumbled against your lips, lavishing in your scent, the way you taste, how soft you are. he abandons restraint, pulling himself deeper into you by your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh. you watch him eat you so hungrily, eyes rolling back grunting and growling against you, his hair falling in his face as he pushes his jaw against you. creating artwork with his tongue, the rings on his slender fingers glinting in the glow of the tv. the light washing across his bare back illuminating the flex and roll of his muscles as he moves your thighs, pushing them farther apart, pushing them back against your chest, crushing his face with them. he devolved into a frenzy, desperately chasing every way he can please you. plunging his tongue deep inside you, fucking you on his face, dragging long stripes up to your clit, sucking and gently biting you, watching you squirm under his attention.
the lilt and pitch of your moans tell him he found the rhythm you need, he keeps that pace perfectly for you. any notion of a sore jaw or neck was irrelevant and unimportant to him. he would break his bones to please you, whats a little lock jaw?
you feel that coil in your stomach tighten as he encourages you with little "mhm"s against your dripping pussy, your fingers laced tight in his hair pulling him in harder as he swirls his tongue back and forth over your clit.
grinding your hips against his face, legs tight and shaking, you gush down his chin as you cum, spasming against him. you cry out his name mindlessly over and over again as he drinks in the sight, the taste, the feeling of your orgasm.
placing firm kisses on your throbbing clit as you come down, he brings his hand around and gently splays your lips apart, rubbing slow messy circles over your pussy, smearing your cum around all over yourself. picking his head up, a glossy sheen of slick coating the lower half of his face and a glow of sweat beading the other, his dark low eyes watch you with a smile as your chest heaves and you twitch as he overstimulates your poor pretty pussy.
"did that feel wrong to you?" he asks lowly, his voice dripping with lust as he watches you squirm under him.
you shake your head, replying "no, it felt-ahh!-really g-good. thank you, suguru" you mewl, fucked out and delirious.
he slowly pushes his middle finger into the tight plush of your pussy saying "you deserve to feel good, pretty girl. let me please you until my body can't give you anything else." he says quietly, a secret for only your ears. he reaches the hilt of his finger, his ring a cold contrast against you as he begins pumping his finger inside you, massaging up into the knot of flesh that makes you weak.
you crane your body up off the bed, back arching as he hits exactly where you need. you instinctively grab his wrist with both hands, pushing his finger deeper into you with every thrust as he watches you carefully, licking and biting your thigh.
"please, c-can i have more-fuck, god that feels so good" you cry out, rolling your hips against his hand.
"you need another? your pussy needs more?" he purrs, pulling his finger out to add another.
as he slides his middle and ring finger inside you, your pussy swallowing them generously as you clench and throb around him, relief washes over you as you are finally filled by him. that empty ache satiated by his long slender fingers pumping deep inside you.
he presses the heel of his palm to your clit, a firm warmth for you to roll your hips against, slick coating his palm as he watches with low dark eyes, slack jawed with knitted brows, his free hand groping and squeezing your chest, your waist, your hips, your thighs.
his fingers massage up against the inner wall of your lower stomach, that coil pilling tighter and tighter as you helplessly moan and squirm against the bed, rocking your hips against his palm chasing yet another high.
your pussy clenched and squeezes around his fingers, gushing down his hand as you cum, stars behind your eyelids as you are rocked by your orgasm, waves of sharp pleasure wash over you.
"god, fuck you squirted on me" he says quietly, almost whimpering. as if it were a painful to watch you completely unravel on his fingers, prodding a weak spot he has. slowly pulling his fingers out, he licks and sucks his fingers clean down to his wrist, groaning at the taste eyes rolling back.
"you are everything i ever couldve wanted and it's torture" he laments, running his hands up your stomach as he pulls himself back over you, his face hovering over yours, his hips pressed to yours, cock resting firmly on your drooling hungry pussy.
"please, i need you to fuck me, suguru" you whisper, begging with wide eyes, digging your fingernails into his biceps.
"god, yes. anything, i'll do anything." he groans, feverishly kissing you, hips bucking against you as he loses himself in you, squeezing and groping you all over your body as if he couldn't possibly touch you enough.
he pulls back and lines himself up with you, slowly pushing his long thick cock inside you, a long low "fuucckkk, god you are so fucking wet" his eyebrows knitted together, jaw slack as he watches your eyes grow wide and your jaw hang open as you feel his girth stretch you out, your pussy swelling generously to accommodate him. he reaches the hilt of his cock decorated with jet black tufts, he looks down to drink in the sight of his cock buried deep inside you, already slick and matting down his hair as you gush out around him.
he is tense and restrained as he waits to let you adjust to him. wrapping one arm under your back, the other under your ass, he buries his head in the crook of your neck gently licking and sucking on your skin, his voice low and dark as he asks "you ready, pretty girl?"
you nod fervently, choking out a tense whisper, "please, please yes"
he slowly starts pumping in and out, hard slow thrusts hitting deep inside you, he picks his head up to hold your face, looking deeply into your eyes as he fucks you, mumbling "so pretty... look at what you did to me..."
he fucks you faster, hitting you exactly where you need watching your face twist in pleasure as you spill whimpers and moans of his name, the lewd squelch of your pussy emanating around the room as his hips ram into your over and over again, filling you so perfectly, the bulge of his cock pushing out your lower abdomen every time he hits deep against your cervix.
"m-more, please. do what you want, i need you so bad" you babble mindlessly, his hand on your face clenching tight around your jaw, his lips ghosting over yours as you beg for him.
"you need more? you need me to fuck you harder? you need me to take you and make you mine, pretty?" he purrs, punishing your poor pussy making it near impossible for you to respond. you whine and grunt like an animal, nodding fervently against his hand as he squeezes your chin, holding your gaze on him.
he pulls out, flipping you over into your stomach effortlessly. he runs one hand up your back as he pushes your knees apart with his thigh, splaying you out in front of him. the other finds your hip as he lays down on top of you lacing his fingers through your hair. with a sharp jerk his yanks your head back by your hair, his lips brushing against your ear, a low threat rumbles in his chest, "you want to eat each other like monsters? you want me to claw you apart? you wouldn't like it if anyone found out about this, pretty girl. it's terrible, a sin even, isn't it?" he teases, yanking your hair harder as he mentions the sinful sight you must be under him.
"yes, it's awful! please, i won't tell anyone what we do in the dark. please just fuck me, i need you so bad" you cry, squirming against his cock on your ass as he rolls his hips into you.
he pulls back, running the head of his cock against your lips, smearing your wet slick around. he sinks back into you with a guttural groan, "yes, that's it. take it, pretty".
grabbing onto a fistful off your hair, he holds himself up on his elbow caging around the side of your face. his head in the crook of your neck, he thrusts hard into you with a grunt. you yelp, instantly full, he slams into you g-spot as you are shoved into the bed.
he hisses as you wrap tight around his cock again, throbbing and milking him for cum. he rolls his hips a few times before quickly devolving into fast stuttering thrusts, groaning and grunting like an animal in your ear, a mess of "you need this?" and "god, fucking take it" fall around you as he slams his cock into you, your pussy sucking him back in over and over again, tight and wet for him as he uses your pussy the way you begged him to. the wet smack! of his balls against your clit, your ass jiggling under him as he rams his cock into your pussy, your head lolling back and forth against his hand as he grips your hair, shoving your face down into the mattress, it's a disgusting display- you are lucky you are hidden away together in the dark of night, if anyone saw this they would be shocked by how easy you are to work into a mess.
you stutter out broken "thank you"s over and over, his name spilling from your lips as he pumps his cock into you, punishing and hard.
his breath catches in his throat, his fist squeezing your hair tighter with the other hand on your back, forcing you into a deeper arch. "fuck, im gonna cum in that perfect little pussy" he grunts, "you need my cum? you gonna take it, pretty girl? you gonna take what i give you?" he babbles, fucking you faster, panting and groaning broken "god, fuck" and "shit, it's too good" as his cock twitches against your tight walls.
the thought of his large strong hands pinning you down and making you take his cum deep in your pussy felt godly, as if it were the honor of the arcane and powerful. fighting back tears, you claw at the sheets and push your hips back on him, hooking your ankles around the backs of his thighs pulling him deeper. "please, give me everything!" you choke, squeezing and clenching around him as you feel yourself fall apart around him, gushing and squirting down the length of his cock as he collapses on top of you, choking out "fuck baby you deserve it, take everything i have" as he bites your shoulder, panting as he dumps his hot cum deep against your cervix. the thick muscle on the underside of his cock throbbing and pulsing inside you, his legs shaking and his nails digging into your skin.
you lay together, his weight on you as you both still, rolling your hips against each other as you both come down. he releases you hair and pets it, smoothing it down and finger-combing the tangles left behind. his cock still plugging you full of his cum, he hisses and gently bucks against you every time your pussy throbs around him. gently kissing and licking your neck, shoulder, jaw, he peppers you with praise and adoration. "you did so good, you made me feel amazing.... thank you... i loved every second of it." he whispers against your skin, his voice soft and sweet in your ear.
once you both cool off enough, he pulls his half-hard cock out of you, cum spilling all down your clit and onto the sheets.
he cleans you up, brings you water, and carries you to the bathroom.
once you are back in your bed, you lay on his chest as you play with his long silky hair, messy and tumbling down his shoulders.
his hands tipping your face up to his and stroking your cheek with his thumb, low sleepy eyes looking down at you, a content smile on his blushed face he mumbles, "next time just come get me, waiting outside your door for you to ask for me was torture, yknow."
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
authors note #2: me personally? i'm fidgeting with the rings on his fingers while he fucks me :)
