Darkredandroyalblue - Royal Blue💙♓️🪷🦈

just bring back my silly little baby 🥺

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ what I know to be true ⋆｡˚ ೀ⋆｡˚ ༘

Childe wasn't a big fan of the Tsaritsa's demand for him to find a wife, until he'd come upon the perfect girl for the job. You—a lady he knew in his childhood to be a horrible nuisance and demon on Earth. Not only would this marriage fulfill his duty, but would let him settle a long-time grudge as well. Little did he know, he stood more to gain from this partnership than he thought.

Childe x fem!reader II arranged marriage, angst? to fluff, childhood enemies to lovers, romance!

Childe was never one for romance, and especially not for commitment.

He just had so much else on his plate, much bigger dreams than that of settling down in a household and abandoning his place on the battlefield.

He was always looking ahead to a future of bloodshed, of power, of someday ruling the world.

That wasn't going to happen if a distraction stood in his way.

He would sometimes muse about having kids, loving the idea of continuing his lineage and watching a bunch of mini-me's run around, but ultimately, he decided his duty to the Tsaritsa would stand in the way of him being a good father. So he'd just have to settle for being an amazing uncle to the children his siblings would eventually have, spoiling them with presents at Christmas time and teaching them how to protect themselves out in the wild.

So when he was called into the Tsaritsa's throne room and received the news that a harbinger of his status was to be married, in order to keep up with regal airs the nobles of Snezhanaya, he was, respectfully, very unhappy.

"You'll be seen at balls and lead battalions. Your role must be carried with honor. Nobody will respect an old lonely man.", she claimed, then drew out a long, thin arm to hold his chin with a bony hand—long pointed nails pressing divots into his skin. Though her touch was frigid, she looked down at him with a certain fondness in her eyes, though the sincerity of it was undistinguishable. "You need a pretty thing by your side to elevate your status. You know I only want what's best for you.", she cooed, like she was addressing a child.

He new better than to disobey her commands, and something about the smoothness of her voice assured him that this was the right choice. He only nodded, though his fists clenched at his sides in dismay.

Childe read over the listed names of eligible young ladies for him to marry with contempt; scrolling through the meaningless last names and accompanying statures, ordered from top to bottom by how highly they stood in the totem pole of nobility. Like he cared where the girl would come from.

He felt guilt for the miserable thing that would have to marry him; though he could care less about who these women were, he believed that they deserved a partner that loved them, or at least a good man that could stand to take care of them. All they would be to him is a nuisance, a label which they had done nothing to earn.

Though, when he neared the end of the list, a section devoted to common folk who had certain merits like striking beauty or some sort of fame, that he found a name he recognized.

Your name.

Oh, how he remembered you.

You were the daughter of good friends of his parents. Your families would often gather for holidays or dinner parties, sharing what little they had in the name of kinship. The gatherings were lively, full of happiness and cheer...

But you had a certain countenance that stood out to him and branded your name into a special part of his brain to be remembered for the rest of his life.

You were a little brat was what you were.

Though you were only a toddler when he met you, having only just taken your first steps while he was already halfway through being eight, he found you to be the most insufferable little human he'd ever met.

Your parents would always gab and brag about what a good little girl you were; how you never cried or screamed, how you were sweet and patient and loving—a wonderful surprise for parents preparing for the "terrible two's.".

They had to be lying, because every time Ajax would come into view you'd immediately throw a fit, wailing and swiping at his face with a kind of rage an entire army of men could not match.

He had no idea why; he never touched you, or spoke to you, all he did upon your first meeting was draw back in repulse.

You weren't a pleasure to look at; with your beady little eyes and thick eyelashes that lined them, your thin eyebrows and piercing gaze. You looked like some haunted porcelain doll. And there was a certain consciousness behind your eyes that children your age were not supposed to have.

His little siblings were much cuter.

And he did not hesitate to say that.

"Tonia was a prettier baby. What's wrong with her?", he piped up, humiliating his mother and father who immediately scolded him for his rudeness. Your mother only laughed.

"Trust me, she'll be a beauty when she grows up. I won't be surprised when you come around here in sixteen years asking to marry her."

This started a little musing session between your mothers, giggling about the possibility of their children being wed and how wonderful that would be for their friendship and their families.

Meanwhile, Ajax was dwelling on how that would absolutely never happen—if the look on your face was any indicator.

You were red as a tomato, nose scrunched in distain as your eyes pierced his. Like you'd understood him.

How was he supposed to know babies could take offense?

Whether or not your infant brain could comprehend his words, your hatred was clear, and before he could react, your soft little hand went flying towards his face and landed with a resounding THWAP!

Even though you struck him, you immediately burst into tears, bawling crocodile tears that ran down your face and dripped off of your chin.

All of the adults in the room immediately ran to your aid, hushing and petting you while scorning Ajax for "tormenting the poor girl."

Never before had he felt so cheated.

That begun his feud with a two year old.

Your detest for one another ran deep. So much so that every gathering between your families ended in you receiving plenty of sneaky pinches to your fat baby skin and him risking a bald spot with the amount of hair you'd rip out of his head.

It was a nightmare you could walk too, since you'd often seek him out just to babble in annoyance and tug at the knee of his trousers.

"See? Look at how much she likes you!", his mother would coo, but he knew better. Your grappling with his pants was your pea-brained strategy to get him to bend down and remove you so you could bop him one on the nose.

He swore you were such a strong baby. He'd rather take a hit from a club than suffer the force that your tiny fists could bring down on his head.

That's why you were the perfect girl to be his wife

If he were to marry any other woman, the guilt of leaving her alone at home for long stretches of time, depriving her of having the good husband she deserves rather than a man who could never love her, would be overwhelming.

Sure, he was a monster, but he wasn't about to let some innocent bystander be collateral damage.

But you? The evil, horrible little wench you are? You more than deserved it.

In his mind, he'd actually be doing his fellow man a favor by saving an unsuspecting bachelor from accidentally marrying a grisly thing like you.

So, although his retainers were already in the process of scheduling meetings with his potential brides, he plucked your name from the list without hesitation.

"Set the wedding date. I'll have that one."

The organizers looked between themselves warily, deciding whether or not they should challenge him on this monumental decision.

"And nothing too grand—it'll just be family.", he cooly added, leaning back in his chair to rest his feet upon his desk and crushing the list of names under his dirty boots.

In the end, the harbinger always gets what he wants, so his retainers retreated with quiet nods and quick steps.

Though Childe acted aloof towards the decision to have you as his bride, when the day of the wedding actually arrived and he found himself standing at the altar of a small church in Mosepok—his home town, his palms were sweating and eyes darting around nervously. He shifted his weight on his feet as the congregation waited for you to enter; this was supposed to be a small ceremony, but leave it to his mother and father's proud announcements to their friends and neighbors to draw a crowd. As his eyes scanned the faces of those who'd known him in his youth, he realized near all of the small port town was packed into the pews. He wracked his brain for the answer as to why these people would want to watch their old town troublemaker's union, but he supposed it would be the most interesting thing to happen in the town since his era of delinquency.

It was a miracle that the budget the Fatui gave Childe for this wedding greatly superseded the amount he'd needed for the original plan of a small gathering; it was more than enough to feed the whole town for a night, which actually brought a flicker of joy to Childe's chest.

He was pleased that he could give back to the community that handled him like a family in his childhood.

But that flicker was immediately quenched when the creaking sound of the heavy oak doors that led into the chapel reverberated through the room—revealing the silhouette cast in white of his bride.

His stomach turned with anxiety. Childe had led battalions into what could be considered suicide missions if not for their miraculous victorious outcome, and yet, somehow, the fear he felt standing in front of a girl that, though she may not be small by definition, definitely looked so standing next to him, significantly surpassed that of which he's ever felt.

His cold body shook like he stood inches from death.

Suddenly, he remembered the fury your little body had when you were only a baby, and it dawned on him that you've only gotten bigger, smarter, stronger. A little arbiter of the apocalypse couldn't have grown into the meek woman he imagined, if anything, her bloodlust grew with age.

What did he get himself into? Was he an idiot? Did he, blinded by his scheming for revenge, land himself in a lion's den?

With a light tap on the shoulder from the priest, he jolted out of his stupor and found you standing in front of him already, suddenly remembering that he was now to lift your veil.

His hands shook as he reached out, bracing himself for the hideous face he'd been forced to associate with at every friendly gathering between your parents in childhood, and now, due to his own brashness, would have to associate with every time he returned home or attended public events.

He took a deep breath and shut his eyes as he took the fabric between his white-knuckled fingers and threw the thing up and over your head. The procession hummed with awe and approval—some more boisterous men from the docks whistling, to which their wives jabbed an elbow into their ribs.

The sounds of adoration resounding from the audience perplexed Childe, drawing his interest and encouraging him to open one wary eye and peek at you.

But his cautious peek grew into an owlish gawking and dropped jaw when the woman before him shined like an angel.

This couldn't have been the girl he knew in her infancy; her once-beady eyes now twinkled like stars, her red puffy face was now sculpted and the only remnants of her discoloration resided in dusted pink pigments on her cheeks. They were so perfectly placed that they could be mistaken for a painting by an artist with a keen eye. He pried his gaze from your enrapturing eyes to ogle your lips—plushy and inviting. He'd give anything to kiss a gorgeous woman like you.

And he remembered with an unexpected delight that he would by the end of this ceremony.

Before he knew it, the soft ring of your voice settled upon his ears. Having been caught in a trance, he hadn't realized the procession already arrived at your vows.

He only tuned in after the opening sentences of your declaration had passed, your words blurred by his reverie.

"I promise to wait for you when you go and embrace you when you return; to make a warm, solace of a home for you that you can always come back to, whether there be a roof over our heads or not. I promise to follow you through this life and meet you in the next, to be by your side when you need me, no matter how far apart we may be forced to exist. I promise to love you and only you, to be true as long as your ring encloses my finger, and promise to keep it there forever. I will take your family into my arms just as you will me, care for them—as they are an extension of you, to love them just as I do you. I'll hold you ever close to my heart, speak to you with nothing but kindness, recognize your face as that of my partner in life, my one and only, and..."

Childe jumped when he felt your warm hand sneak up on his and gingerly intertwine your fingers, to which he did not resist, nor want to.

"I promise to love you as you are; no matter how much the years we spend together may change us."

To his puzzlement, Childe felt a certain wetness roll down his cheek, causing him to look up at the skylight above the both of you to check if it was raining. When another droplet ran down the other side of his face, he realized he was crying.

Childe never cried, he couldn't even remember the last time it had happened; maybe it was sometime when he was a boy, but the memory simply did not exist. These were not tears shed in misery, they were spurred by your words of devotion, words he'd never been blessed with before. He truly wondered now if you may be divine, but all he beheld of you told him you were, in fact, human, and not a vision of absolution sent from the heavens above.

You tilted your head to the side and blinked your dollish eyelashes at him, obviously waiting for something, to which he remembered that is was now his turn.

He had neglected to write vows beforehand or memorize the traditional vows spoken by couples bound by marriage as an arrangement. He had, in fact, planned on skipping the process altogether, but your profession of love caught him off guard and incentivized him to speak his own.

So, with a blank mind, he resorted to letting the few truths he knew spill from his mouth.

"I'd only known you during our childhoods, but how you've blossomed and changed has..."

He had never been one for words, so making something up on the spot in front of quite literally a hundred people was daunting. His voice seized with trepidation, but he took a breath and moved forward.

"Has...left me speechless. My mind is empty, and all I can think of now is...that I am blessed."

He swallowed a lump in his throat and continued, struck by your endearing gaze on him—it made his voice quiver as it resounded from his chest.

"I'd assumed I knew you, but it's clear to me now that I have so much more to learn."

He unconsciously squeezed your hand for comfort, and, with a gentle smile on your face, you reassuringly squeezed back; making him sigh and yearn to feel more of you—imagining that you felt like warm cotton, soft and homey, something he could bury himself in and happily stay there for eternity.

"And I want to learn it. I...want to spend my whole life in awe of you, discovering as much as I can, knowing you like I know myself."

He could not hesitate before he blurted his next statement, his voice getting carried away from him and spilling his most personal beliefs.

"And loving you as you love me."

Your cheeks turned an even brighter shade of pink, and your eyes glimmered as your perfect lips stretched into an even more enticing smile. He could hear your soft, happy sigh, a sound that not even the priest beside the two of you could catch, almost like a secret meant just for him.

Your sweetness enthralled him like nothing he'd ever experienced— slowly convincing him that you very well may be the best thing that's ever happened to him.

"I'll take care of you.", he promised, and meant it. "I'll spend the rest of my life ensuring your safety and happiness. Despite what you promised before, I will always put a roof over your head. You'll be forever warm and safe. I will fight for you, die for you, do anything you ask. You will want for nothing as long as you're mine."

His vow had come upon its conclusion with one final promise he all but growled, like it was somehow in danger of being broken—that he would go to any length to protect.

"And you will forever be mine."

His pause at the end indicated to the priest that the his vow had ended, and the way your lips parted in wonder and your wide eyes remained locked on his made him want to lean in and kiss you like every inch of his body burned to do. But he had to, begrudgingly, wait; hoping the ceremony would end as soon as possible so he could finally have you to himself and ask you all the questions he was dying for the answers to.

Did you really mean what you said? He sure did, and he didn't even know he had the capacity to not only promise, but want, desperately so, the fulfill the oaths he had declared to you.

Soon enough, the priest announced it was now time for the bestowing of the rings—a symbol of the bond you will share for eternity.

As the ring bearer, Childe's dear brother, Teucer, brought the rings resting on a white silk pillow over to the altar and held it over his head while he balanced on his tippy toes so the two of you could reach the rings with ease. Childe immediately felt awash in shame. All he'd purchased for you was a simple silver band—no precious gems, no original detailing, just a band. He didn't expect to want to take pride in the symbol of his loyalty you'd wear for him on your finger. He'd get you a new one, a better one—one he could admire as he kissed your hand, held it with adoration and smoothed his fingers over it.

But although the ring fell below expectations, there was no disappointment on your face. You barely glanced at it, your eyes trained on his face with a fondness he'd never received before. Your gaze had his heart spilling over with exaltation.

You took his hand in yours and slipped the perfectly fitted ring around his finger, giving it a small squeeze when you were done—as if to brand your affection deep into his hand.

He returned the gesture, taking your other hand in his and, carefully, securing the ring around your finger as well; he breathed a sigh of relief and felt a weight he hadn't known was resting on his shoulders alleviate. His heart thundered in his chest, threatening to leap out in a desperate attempt to be ever closer to yours.

The priest spoke, but his voice was drowned out by Childe's inner voice, wailing for you.

All he could register was the sound of your silver bell-like voice, piercing through the fog in his head like a star's light in the void of the night sky above.

"I do.", you said.

He couldn't tell if he'd rushed ahead of the priest's announcement of his turn or not, but he followed your statement blindly.

"I do.", he whispered ardently, brushing the backs of those precious hands of yours softly with his thumbs.

After the final blurb recited by the priest, a sentiment he couldn't bring himself to listen to in his anticipation, he finally heard the words he'd been waiting for.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Without a moment of delay, he brought both of his hands up to cup your cheeks, a look of ache in his face as it felt like you had reached an invisible hand into his chest and gripped his heart, and kissed you.

Fervently, passionately kissed you.

It took your breath away, left you panting when he finally pulled away after remembering he was, in fact, in front of his parents and broader community.

But cheers sang from the crowd for your union as he led you back down the steps of the altar and out of the church, eyes trained on your feet with your hand secured in his—watching carefully as you descended to make sure you wouldn't fall. He treated you as if you were sculpted from crystal glass.

After the two of you crossed the threshold out of the church as one, Childe gently tugged your hand to draw you closer so that he could whisper in your ear.

"Could we take a walk in the garden?"

While the guests made their way to the reception hall for their lavish dinner, you and Childe strolled through the church's garden together, hands still intertwined as the two of you gazed at the various winter shrubs and evergreen trees sprinkled with snow. It was beautiful in its own kind of way; the way life persevered through otherwise uninhabitable conditions, how even the bear oak trees existed as intricate silhouettes against the grey sky—providing cover as the sun sank down and gave way to a grim dusk, it was wonderful, and in this moment, it was yours to share.

The two of you came to a halt at a marble bench next to a large, frozen fountain, adorned with swirling details and moulding from an older, more fanciful era. He swiped off the snow that had built on top of the bench, then removed his large, fur-lined cloak to rest on the surface. He led you down to sit on it, having fashioned a dry, warm seat for you as he stood.

"Won't you be cold?"

"I'll be fine.", he assured you. He'd grown used to the frigid air of his home country, having entered various conflicts with nothing but thin linen to cover him for the sake of his movements not being burdened by thick, heavy fabric.

"Thank you.", you spoke, softly, and the words warmed his chest more than any coat could.

He stood there for a long moment, just taking in the sight of you. He just couldn't believe you were real, and couldn't believe you were his at so little a cost—he'd done nothing but bellyache and pluck your name off of a paper, and somehow the situation ended up being the best decision of his life. He'd found someone that claimed to truly, deeply love him by sheer chance.

And that thought brought him to the question that had been weighing on his mind since your vows.

"Did you really mean what you said?", he asked, quietly, hesitantly. After the words left his mouth, he wished he'd never said them. He didn't want to know the answer; if he could live in a fantasy where a miracle like you truly adored him, he'd seize the opportunity and hold it close to his heart for the rest of his life. He felt like such a fool.

"Of course I did.", you chuckled, like the question was ridiculous.

"I thought you hated me.", he confessed, his curiosity for your change of heart getting the best of him when he knew better than to ask too many questions. You only quirked your head and blinked at him, indicating that he needed to clarify. "When we were younger, you acted like you wanted my head on a stick."

To that admission, you laughed heartily. It was a lovely sound, one his mind would no doubt play on repeat in his darkest of times, sending sparks to his heart that would keep him moving forward—back to you so he could hear it again and again. "I was a toddler, dear. I didn't understand my feelings! And you were pretty nasty to me, too.", you said with a playful, pointed look.

The term of endearment made his heart bubble, craving to hear you say it again, but his mind was desperate for more answers. "But...how did you...", he coughed awkwardly, "fall for me?".

His carefully spoken question only made you giggle once again, but you could understand his confusion.

"Oh, Ajax. You were the most entertaining person I've ever met. I know we fought, but I remembered your presence in my life so fondly. And I'd look at pictures of us from our old gatherings, where our parents would force you to hold me on your lap and smile, or take candid shots of us chasing each other around, and I'd wish for you to come back so we could fight again.", you laughed at the memory. "I thought of you all the time, you know. And, as I grew older and life passed by, I'd keep looking back on those photos and...", your cheeks turned even redder than the chilly air had already done, flushing your cheeks and nose. After this conversation, Childe would make sure to rush you inside so you could warm up by a hearth. "Well, my heart would beat for you. And I wished you would come back for different reasons...so I could see you again and fall in love with the man you've become."

Childe gulped in shame. He knew the man he'd become was...cruel. Wicked. He'd never thought so little of himself than when he stood before you, your glorious, pure eyes assessing him like Celestia would upon the day of his death.

But how you looked on at him was not in judgement, but affection. "And when I met you at the altar, I did. I truly did."

He was so swayed by your words, so caught up in your devotion, that though he knew he was undeserving, he leaned down and connected your lips with his once again; his large hands warmed you where they caressed your cheek and the side of your neck, his lips thawing your frozen ones. The flavor of you was intoxicating, but as much as he wanted to prolong this moment, your icy skin pushed him to get you inside immediately.

So he drew back, drawing the most angelic whine of protest from your lips. It made him grin in pride.

"Let's warm you up, huh?"

Though you wanted to stay in the privacy of this isolated garden, continue to live in this moment that only existed for the two of you, you couldn't deny how you shivered and your stomach growled. It was time for your reception, and you couldn't keep your guests waiting.

So you, albeit reluctantly, let Ajax pull you up into his arms and throw his cloak around the both of you before taking you back to the church where he married you, now entering sharing one heart, one life, one love. Forever.

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!?-

I GOT TO IT I GOT TO IT I GOT TO ITTTT AAAAAAHSHSYWUWIQKWNANSJDHWJAJANSNQHQJWHAHAHAAAHSHSJDNGKROWNSBS

how I want him to treat me

aaa i need a mom/dad to take advantage of me ໒꒰ྀི ˃̵͈᷄ ^ ˂̵͈᷅ ꒱ྀི১

preferably an older woman

[Kinktober 2022: Somnophilia (18+)]

GoYuu | Jujutsu Kaisen 18-10-2022

Day 18: G̷l̷o̷r̷y̷ ̷H̷o̷l̷e | S̷h̷o̷t̷g̷u̷n̷n̷i̷n̷g | [Somnophilia]

Yuji realises that GOjo has a hard-on while asleep. He ends up giving him a handjob and stops when Gojo stirs up. But he liked the trill and tries again at night, until he’s caught.

====

Yuji had never gotten the occasion to be so close and casual with Satoru as when he started living (or rather hiding) in his house after his “death”. The older man was friendly and pretty casual compared to other teachers Yuji had in the past.

But if someone had told him he’d be watching movies with his new teacher while the man gave commentary, he would probably not have believed them.

He’d also not believe it if someone had told him he’d be confronted with the following situation:

his teacher was asleep beside him while being very visibly rock hard for some reason.

He had stopped focusing on the movie playing before them since he noticed it, biting his bottom lips as he wonder what to do with this situation.

Wouldn’t it be awkward for Satoru when the man wakes up?

The teen couldn’t help being a bit flustered as his eyes kept glancing back at his teacher’s lap. The man was wearing grey sweat pants and it was pretty easy to see the tent made by his erection.

Yuji bit his bottom lip as an idea came to his mind, trying to chase it away. He’d be lying if he were to say he never found the man handsome, probably sexy even, from what he had seen by accident when Satoru got out of the shower one time.

It all had him a little bit confused and wondering if maybe he wasn’t as straight as he believed he was.

Yuji knew he shouldn’t be doing this, his teacher was asleep, but he was a bit curious and thought that if he could help Satoru get rid of his hard-on there would be no awkward situation. He’d just need to find a solution for when the older man came, otherwise, the clue would be all over the place.

“Sensei?” Yuji tentatively tried to call, holding his breath and the doll in his hand tightly, waiting. Yet no answer came, not even a twitch, his teacher’s breathing staying even.

He could do this. No one but him and Tsukamoto would need to know.

He slid closer to the man on the couch, a hand reaching shyly to his teacher’s lap, hand creeping higher until he finally cupped his dick. He tensed when Satoru’s breath hitched, before going even once more.

He slowly started to rub through the fabric, gaining a little bit more confidence as time went by. He couldn’t help but look at his teacher's face, the way he would react to his ministration. But also to make sure he wouldn’t be caught, he was quite lucky the man was wearing his sunglasses and not his blindfold.

He drank in the groan that escaped the man, biting his lips when he dared sneak his hand inside the sweat pant. He was somewhat surprised to realise his teacher was wearing no underwear, although it did make his task easier.

He was now fully jerking him off, trying not to be too rough so as to not wake him up either. This was way too thrilling for Yuji, not expecting to like taking advantage of his teacher so much.

He couldn’t help feeling his jeans start to feel a little bit too tight.

His hand felt really hot, trapped inside his teacher’s pants. Getting all hot and wet from the precum leaking from the tip, helping his hand slide more easily onto his length.

It is a bit strange, jerking someone else off, he has never done it before, only on his own. But he actually enjoys it quite a lot, he even wonders what it would be like if Satoru was also touching him.

He grinds a little bit against the poor doll, a groan escaping him at the sensation and the idea of also being touched like this by his teacher. If only the man was also awake.

Then Satoru started stirring up from his sleep, making Yuji feel panicked despite his fantasy, nearly losing focus on the doll too. He retracted his hand quickly, going back to the doll as he stood up as casually as possible.

“Yuji?” his teacher called out after seeing him get up like this, Yuji noticed the movie that was playing earlier was now rolling the credit. For how long had he been indecently touching his teacher in his sleep?

“Movie is over, I’ll go to the bathroom before starting another one” Yuji laughed awkwardly, making sure Tsukamoto was hiding his own hard-on. He was mentally cursing himself for making things more awkward than they could have ever been.

The worst part was that he had enjoyed taking advantage of his teacher and wanted more of this thrill. He felt ashamed when he came after jerking himself off in the bathroom to the memory of Satoru’s reactions in his sleep.

And Yuji tried to forget about what he had done, tried to push away the thrill that came with what he did. But many times he found Satoru sleeping on the couch, be it in the basement or upstairs. And slowly he tried again.

At first, he only teased him, barely actually getting him hard. He’d also give him kisses here and there, always getting a bit deeper as his confidence grows. Or at least, as deep as it can be as to not wake him up. Satoru’s lips always taste so sweet against his, like candy.

Then he gets more serious, getting the man fully hard so he can jerk him off. just like the first time, the first couple of other attempts is through his pants, despite the mess it leaves behind.

Then when he really gets the hang of it, and needs more, he starts pulling his pants down, often happily surprised to find nothing under. He didn’t quite imagine his teacher being a commando kind of guy, but it’s only made it easier for him.

It’s surprising how much of a heavy sleeper his teacher is. It’s nearly concerning even, what would he do if someone was attacking him in his sleep? At least, with the intent to kill and not to get him off.

He even considered secretly feeding sleeping pills to his teacher so he’d be sure he was asleep more deeply. But this feels like he’d be going too far. He’s already going too far in a way, but that feels just even worst.

He’d not only be abusing how much of a heavy sleeper Satoru was, but drugging him.

He gets confident with how much he can get away with that he even dares suck him off, which means he doesn’t necessarily see his face well from where he is kneeling between his legs.

He’s pretty sure he cannot be that good, but really, his teacher probably doesn’t feel it fully and he still manages to make him climax. With practice, he’ll get there.

He even gets greedy enough that he gets up at night to sneak into his teacher’s room to do more.

He wants to feel guilty about what he’s doing to Satoru, the man trusts him and he’s totally taking advantage of that. But the excitement and pleasure he gets out of it always outweigh the guilt when he’s doing it.

He also cannot help getting hard while doing all this, jerking himself off at the same time as abusing Satoru. He even jerks the both of them together a couple of times, enjoying the rubbing of another dick on his.

One time, he even straddled him at first, slowly grinding their clothed cock together. feeling the both of them growing harder and harder as he slowly rolled his hips, biting his lips so he wouldn’t make any noise.

He’s getting so much pleasure out of this and doesn’t feel like stopping anytime soon despite the guilt.

Then one evening, as Yuji looks at the movie Satoru has left on the coffee table before going back upstairs to get snacks, he finds a weird movie.

The jacket of the movie is so dark the colour looks nearly black. The only thing on the cover is a computer screen with what looks like CCTV feeds.

“Invisible Touch” Yuji whispered to himself as he reads the title, wondering what kind of movie this could be.

It sounded a lot like a horror film and the lack of anything on the cover piqued his interest, so he put the DVD in.

Yuji is surprised by the movie starting directly on footage taken of a room.

From the angle, the camera seems to be filming from a corner, mostly overlooking a bed. Is this a found footage movie from the security cameras of a house? Then this must be from the bedroom, making him wonder what kind of event will start the film.

But then he realises… The bedroom looks eerily familiar.

Too familiar.

And just as the sound of a door opening in the footage happens it downs on him.

This is Satoru’s room.

Yuji realises with horror that these were taken from his teacher’s room, the “movie” fast-forwarding by itself until someone else entered the room. /Him/.

He watches as the screen shows him taking advantage of his sleeping teacher, night after night.

He can’t get his eyes away from the screen, completely forgetting that Satoru was supposed to come back soon with snacks. He felt even worse when footage from the living room here and upstairs are shown.

Satoru knew.

He was absolutely fucked.

“What an interesting movie you’re watching, Yuuuji~” he then heard whispered right next to his ear, making him jump nearly out of his skin.

He went to get up and bolt away, hide somewhere and just die properly this time.

But he’s forced to keep sitting on the couch with large and strong hands on his shoulders pushing him back down. He’s trapped there as the homemade “movie” keeps playing before them.

Yuji then starts to feel really agitated, scared and ashamed.

Scared that Satoru will now hate him for what he did and ashamed that he actually did any of this. “I-I sorry, I didn’t… I swear” Yuji starts to say a bit incoherently, his vision starting to get blurry as panic is raising even more.

He nearly gets punched by the doll, which Satoru managed to stop before throwing it away. Really, Yuji thinks he should have left it hit him, he deserved it.

But before he could spiral down into even more panic, Satoru is pulling him close, large hands holding his face so he can look at him directly.

“Yu… Yuji!....alm dow…. Oi, listen to me!” the man tries to tell him, managing to make Yuji snap back to reality. “There, breath with me,” he says, helping the teen regulate his breathing.

“Geez, I didn’t expect you to panic like this, I was thinking of teasing you about it” the man sighed.

Yuji watches in confusion as Satoru climbed over the couch to sit with him, pulling his student onto his lap. He sighs again, dramatically this time, putting his head on Yuji’s shoulder as he watches the events happening on the screen.

“The time when you ran away at the end of a movie I was a bit suspicious, then you did it again but I decided to fake being asleep” Satoru explained.

Yuji felt mortified that the man had known since the very beginning and had said /nothing/ about it.

“I found it pretty hot, my cute little student trying to take advantage of me in my sleep” he teased.

“Since I really liked it, I decided to start taking naps where you could find me and lowered my guard even more so I wouldn’t be awakened so easily. I did end up taking some sleeping pills to help even more” he continued.

Yuji had some difficulty properly processing everything. Satoru had known all this time and had actually liked it? To the point that he had filmed it?

“Of course I filmed it” Satoru replied with a pout, making Yuji realise he had probably thought that aloud.

“I thought your first attempts were really cute and hot, but if I was asleep I couldn’t really see it, right? So I decided to set up a camera so I could watch it later, even in my room to see if you’d ever come”.

Yuji nodded at this, still unsure what to say, feeling really flustered and embarrassed that the one his teacher had witnessed while conscious was his first rather poor attempt. He hid in his hands, not wanting to watch anymore, feeling too embarrassed.

Although, in a way, he did feel relieved that Satoru had actually known all this time and even somewhat planned everything. He didn’t feel quite as guilty anymore.

He yelped when he felt a hand palm him through his jeans, another one capturing his hands so he couldn’t hide behind them. “Of course, even though I am telling you all of this, I don’t want you to stop doing it” his teacher whispered into his ear, kissing his temple.

“G-Gojo-sensei wants me to continue?” Yuji asked.

The man hummed at his question, pushing his cheek against Yuji’s as he looked at the screen. “Of course, look how cute and eager you are to please me in my sleep” he points out, “and how adorable you are when rutting against your own palm because of how excited you get” he continued.

This made Yuji blush even more, he couldn’t help feeling flustered at his words. It wasn’t every day someone talked about him as “Cute” and  “Adorable”.

Sure the man did it before, but it was usually more teasing. He could feel himself growing hard under the hand that was teasing him.

“Ah, but sometimes I want to be awake so I can eat you up” Satoru grinned, grabbing his chin so he could turn towards him, giving him a kiss, “And tonight I’ll do that, I’ll return all the pleasure you already gave me~” he stated before kissing him again.

====

(Yuji being a bad boy and being caught by sensei, good thing it turned sensei on too)

Original - AO3

whats wrong with me i just saw a dog and my first thought was how i want it to fuck me

"Proshipping is going to give children the idea that dating an adult is okay!" and then they go on to belittle kids for their fictional crush being their age or a bit younger, but not batting an eye when their fictional crush is way older than them.