#but for lack of awareness on the reader's part | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gglitch1dd · 2 days

Text

Us & You pt 5

DILF Kirishima Eijiro x Teacher Reader

Context: Kirishima Eijiro has done everything to forget Bakugou Katsuki in his life and just focus on his daughter, his amazing and loving daughter. The light of his eye. Due to an incident, Eijiro meets you, a teacher at his daughter school who he can’t help but fall for. However, as his daughter grows older and questions start being asked, it feels like the peace he tried to cultivate is slipping through his fingers.

Note: Prolife vs Prochoice, friends to enemies to strangers. Katsuki is TRANS!!! (AFAB)

PLEASE NOTE BEFORE READING THIS SHORT SERIES: There will be some deep discussions about morality, children, abortion arguments pertaining to Pro life vs Pro choice as well as the father’s role in raising a child/conceiving a child. It also deals with the struggles of being a single parent. It’s very messy and very much real life. Katsuki is Trans in this story (mostly cause I couldn’t find another character to be Sachiko’s mom and you’ll see why).

[PART 3] [AO3 Link] [PART 4]

You sat on the couch with Eijiro, his hand moving up and down your thigh as the both of you watched a movie on the TV. It was just the two of you this afternoon considering Sachiko was gone to stay over at a friend’s house for the day. From what you heard from Sachiko, it was rare for her father to allow her to go over to other people’s houses especially if him or the Kirishimas didn’t know them personally on an intimate level. She had apparently never gone to a sleepover, which after you took some time to think about it, you understood Eijiro’s fears.

She was a young girl, and you knew yourself that sleepovers at friend’s houses, even when you trusted them, was not always safe. Especially if there were adults or older individuals there that you weren’t aware of. You were glad that Eijiro had that rule to protect his daughter.

Eijiro leaned over to kiss your jaw, making you giggle as you were pressed up against his side. He seemed really touchy today. You weren’t sure what it was, but you couldn’t complain. “Eijiro, you aren’t watching the movie.” You reminded him.

“Hm?” He asked as he placed another kiss to your neck. Half of you was sitting on his lap but you felt him pull you more and more on top of him. You giggled at his lack of attention to the movie at all. “I’m more interested in you right now.”

His large hand travelled up your thigh even more, you wore loose shorts today that allowed him to slip his fingers further up your legs. You felt him grab at your skin making you suck in a breath but allow as you turned to look at him. His ruby eyes were half lidded as he looked down at you, focused on your being. You took in a deep breath, your eyes looking him over.

Eijiro was in nothing more than grey sweatpants and was otherwise shirtless, allowing you to freely gaze over the large expanse of his muscles. It was times like this you were reminded of how big your boyfriend was. He was absolutely huge. With broad shoulders and large muscles that were more meant for sweeping you off your feet than anything. You felt so small in his hold, almost dainty. You shifted your legs a bit as you tilted your head up to kiss his lips.

He let out a hum in gratitude, as his hands tightened around your body. His lips quickly moved to dominate yours, pulling you close and keeping you there. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you pulled yourself closer to his body, with a stuttered breath. You felt his sharp teeth nibble on your bottom lip, requesting access. You nodded your head breathlessly, as he easily took that opportunity to devour you.

He easily picked you up and settled you on his lap fully, allowing you to face his body as your thighs rested at either side of him. You ran your hands through his dark black hair making him hum in pleasure at the feeling of your hands on him. One of his hands moved up your body to feel the curvature of your back. You sunk down into his lap but gasp at the feeling.

You separated the kiss, a line of saliva connecting your lips as you looked down to where his tented cock was. You were then reminded of how much you loved his sweatpants. You glanced back up at him, trying to figure out how he was feeling. He nodded his head to you, wanting you to do as you please.

Was this it?

You looked back down at the imprint of his cock. Despite Eijiro being all for your pleasure, and having eaten you out multiple times, you had never actually seen his cock before. All you knew was that by the imprint in his sweats and the feeling of it against you, he was hung. You bit down on your bottom lip as you moved your hand up and down his shaft that seemed to only be growing hard at just your gaze.

Eijiro let out a groan as he felt you grasp his cock with your hand. He tilted his head back as he shifted, you felt him buck his hips just slightly. “Y/N…” He groaned.

You weren’t even paying attention to him as you had all your attention on his sex. He was thick. Really thick. You hadn’t even seen it out of his pants, and you felt a rush of fear go down your spine, but then it was quickly replaced by excitement.

Your hand moved to his waistband but then his phone rang. You turned to it.

“Who is it?” He asked, although you could see it in his eyes that he just wanted you to continue and ignore the phone call.

You reached over and grabbed his phone to see who was calling. Your eyebrows raised. “It’s Misaki’s mom.” You let out softly. Your eyebrows furrowed. “I thought you agreed with her that you’d pick up Sachi at half past four?”

“I did.” He sighed as he sat up. You handed him his phone. “Maybe Sachi isn’t feeling well or something.” He reasoned before picking up the phone. “Kirishima Eijiro speaking.” You refrained from touching him as you stared down at his crotch. You wondered how on earth that happened. You also wondered if this whole exchange meant he was comfortable with sex now? You surely hoped so. “What did you just say…” The low tone immediately snapped you out of your lewd daydreaming as you looked up at Eijiro. He had gone stiff, his eyes wide as his grip on his phone turned tight. You looked at him worried. “How on earth did you manage to lose her?” Your eyes widened at the news. “Well, I don’t care if there were many kids at the park! She’s my only daughter and you lost her!? How long has she been gone?” All you could hear was distressed crying from Misaki’s mom on the other side. You could imagine how scary it must be to lose someone’s kid especially when left in charge of them. You had gone through the same thing when Sachiko disappeared at the family derby event.

You saw Eijiro bring a hand to the bridge of his nose as he took a moment to think. “Okay. Okay. Just breathe. Stay there encase she comes back. I’ll find her.” He put down the phone and you quickly got off of him.

“What happened?” You asked urgently.

Eijiro stood up without hesitation. “Sachiko’s missing.” He told you, moving to head somewhere else in the house. You quickly followed after him. You could tell by his large strides and furrowed eyebrows that he was worried. “She hasn’t been seen in the past twenty minutes.” Eijiro walked into his office and immediately moved to the other side of his desk to where his laptop is.

“So how are we going to find her?”

Eijiro switched on his laptop and quickly signed in. “I’m going to track her.” He answered simply.

“You have a tracker on Sachi?” You asked surprised.

“No, her watch has a tracker that just so happens to be on Sachi.” He stated nonchalantly as if that wasn’t the exact same thing. He opened up a little app that looked more like a gaming app than anything. Suddenly a little icon appeared that said “Sachiko” with a baby photo of her. She had cute chubby cheeks with wide eyes with beautiful lashes, she was made out of chubby little rolls as she sat on the ground looking at the camera. You would have wanted to coo at it all day but there were more pressing matters. Soon the page turned into a map of your city and a little icon appeared on the other side of the city. Eijiro’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at the location, she was in. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“What doesn’t make sense?”

Eijiro hesitated. “How did she get all the way there?” He asked his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “If she was taken, she would have hit the panic button that’s attached to her watch. I don’t know how she got there.” He motioned to the map.

You moved to zoom in to the map. Your eyebrows furrowed. “Isn’t that the Bakugou building?” You asked as you pointed to where her little icon was. “What would she be doing there?” You turned to look at Eijiro. The large man had frozen in his seat, fear in his eyes as his pupils shrank. He looked to you, asking a silent question that you almost instantly picked up on. You stood up straight. “She can’t know, and I doubt he would want to see her.”

“Then why is she there?”

Kirishima Sachiko held the straps of her small backpack as she walked through the hallways of the Bakugou building. She followed the group of children around her age that were there for modelling clothes for the brand. She was silent as she spectated everything around her, certain marks that she would use to remember her way out.

She felt bad for having to leave Misaki but her friend understood what she was trying to do. She had to be quick. In and out. Then she could head back to the park or back home. She knew her father would most probably be angry at her, but this was one thing she had to do by herself, cause she knew he would never allow or tell her otherwise.

Sachiko turned to the elevator, just managing to disappear away from the group as she clicked the second highest floor. She wasn’t too far away from the top so it wouldn’t be a long ride. Once the elevator gave out a sound, she stepped out and walked straight to the desk infront of a set of doors. It seemed to be a secretary’s desk.

Sachiko walked over to the secretary who looked up from his laptop. His eyebrows raised in surprise. “Hello little girl. What are you doing here?” He asked surprised as he stood up from his desk to walk over to her. “Did you get lost from the others?”

She shook her head as she gave him a smile. “No. I’m Kirishima Sachiko, I’m here as a representative of the Kirishima Diamond company. My dad said I’m supposed to be part of the photos, but I’m supposed to check in with my uncle Bakugou.” She told him with a soft hiccup. She was glad her father wasn’t here the else he would have known she was lying right out of her front teeth.

The man raised an eyebrow not that convinced. He could admit that she did look like a Kirishima, but she was a kid after all. “Aren’t you a little young to be a representative of a company?”

“I’m just here to see my Uncle Bakugou.” She told him once more.

The tall man sighed as he adjusted his glasses. “Mr Bakugou didn’t tell me he was receiving a guest. But since she was let through…” He grumbled. He moved to the door as he knocked before opening it. “Mr Bakugou, you have a guest here.”

“Who is it?” Sachiko heard a gravelly voice ask from the other side.

The man glanced back at Sachiko before looking back through the door. “A Miss Kirishima Sachiko. Apparently, she was told to check in with you when she got here.”

There was a beat of silence, which made the young eleven year old girl nervous that she might have come all the way here for nothing.

“Send her in.”

The secretary’s eyebrows raised in surprise, but he turned to Sachiko with a smile. “Looks like it’s your lucky day, Miss Kirishima. Bakugou-san never wants to see anybody.” He opened the door wider allowing her through.

“Thank you, sir!” She chirped out with a kind smile as she bowed at the waist. She walked into the office, allowing the doors to close behind her.

Sitting at a large desk with a tablet in hand was a man with ashen blond hair and piercing crimson eyes. He lacked facial hair nor was he as big as her father, but he was pretty handsome. There was something about his eyes that were so feline, piercing and almost made her feel like she had done something wrong.

Crimson eyes stared at each other.

Katsuki frowned at the sight of her. She looked like a doll. She stood in a ruffled light blue dress with white stockings and black shoes, with a red backpack. Her hair was cut short, just barely touching her shoulders as she stared back at him with eyes that made Katsuki feel like he was staring into a mirror.

Suddenly he felt sick.

He let out a shaky breath as he put down his tablet. So, it really was her. He had talked to her briefly at the derby, just thinking of her as one other many of the Kirishima children that he probably just didn’t know about. He didn’t think it would actually be it… her. He reached over to the phone on his desk. “Please call Kirishima Eijiro and tell him his daughter is in my office. Allow him clearance up…” Katsuki’s eyebrow raised. “He already called? Huh.” He put down his office phone as he turned to look at the young girl in front of him. He leaned back in his chair. “Your father is looking for you.”

“I figured.” She let out softly, her voice was gentle as she spoke to him. “I’m sorry for the lack of warning Bakugou-san, and good afternoon too.” She bowed at the waist formally, her left hand over her right. Katsuki watched her with a harsh glare. He could see the conservative Japanese upbringing from a mile away. He could see it in her manners and her voice. It was something that he only saw in Eijiro whenever he interacted with elders or people that were not his friends. Formal, proper, rich. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. “My name is Kirishima Sachiko, we met at the derby two weeks ago.”

“We did.” Katsuki acknowledged.

“I’m just here to ask you a few questions.” She told him honestly. “If that is alright with you…” Katsuki didn’t say anything or give her a sign, so she continued. “You know my father?” She asked softly.

“I did.”

She hesitated. “You both went to the same university, right? The two of you were close?”

“We were.”

“Then…” She seemed scared to ask her question. Her grip on the straps of her backpack tightened as she tried to keep her composure. “Do you… do you know who my mother is?” She asked softly. “I’ve already tried every one of Daddy’s friends but they won’t tell me.”

So Eijiro really kept his word?

Katsuki was silent for a long while. He sighed. It was better he got this over and done with and was frank with her so that she would leave him alone. He wasn’t sure why ghosts from the past were now suddenly haunting him after nearly twelve years of him being free from this. He pushed himself out of his chair and stood up. “You don’t have a mother.” He told her frankly. “But I do know who gave birth to you.”

Her eyes lit up, almost in excitement. Katsuki saw the same expression that Eijiro would make whenever he got excited about something. Katsuki hated that expression on her face. “You do?” She asked, stepping forward. “Do you mind telling me who she is?”

Katsuki moved over to the other side of his desk. He leaned back against the hard wood as he folded his arms. “Not she, he.” He corrected her, making her eyebrows furrow in confusion. Katsuki swallowed down hard, trying to ignore the lump in his throat. Years of trying to erase the very thought of her and her father all gone now that she stood in front of him. “I gave birth to you.” She paused. She blinked twice and tilted her head confused in the same way her father would. God, she was just like him. “I’m transgendered, kiddo. So the bonnet doesn’t really match the engine.” He tried using a euphemism to explain it to her.

She took a moment, nodding her head as she took it in. To Katsuki’s surprise, he didn’t see disgust or anger on her face. She seemed to be taking a moment to think it over in her head. “H-how did that happen?” She asked.

“Me being transgendered? I don’t know, trauma I guess.” He shrugged, scratching the back of his head.

She shook her head. “No, not that. I mean me. How did I happen?”

He raised a single eyebrow. “Your father never told you about the birds and the bees? Or what do they call it? Giving a man your umbrella?”

A soft blush went to her face. “Daddy never told me, but Miss Y/N explained it to me after I got my first period.” She revealed to him.

He raised an eyebrow. She already had her menstrual cycle? Had it been that long? Katsuki sighed, scratching the side of his head. “Well, yah. Birds and bees happen and then you happened. Congratulations.” He spoke monotonously.

“Did… Did you and daddy love each other?” She asked.

Katsuki hesitated. He looked away from her. A red croc key ring sitting on his desk. “In some way or another.” He answered softly.

She took another moment. “So then why… why aren’t you together? Why don’t I have a mom… well… other dad?”

Katsuki didn’t like her questions. He didn’t like her presence here and he didn’t understand why on earth he had to explain this all to her. Clearly, she was here without her father’s permission, and clearly she wanted answers.

If she was old enough to understand birds and bees, she was old enough to hear the truth.

Katsuki sighed, detaching himself of all emotions as he looked to her. “You were a mistake.” That one phrase had the girl freezing. “A reckless mistake Eijiro and I did. We weren’t ready for children, and I certainly did not want a child. Unfortunately, your family doesn’t share my sentiments when it comes to bodily autonomy.” He moved his hands to rest back against his desk. “So your father and I had an agreement and thus you were born and I am to play no part in your life.”

She let out a breath before tilting her head confused. “Bodily a-autonomy?”

“An abortion, kiddo.” He stated it simply. “I’m not sure your father would have allowed you to know what it is, considering how conservative your family is, but it’s when someone doesn’t want a kid and so they get rid of it before the foetus is born. Your father’s family didn’t want that despite what I wanted and thus here you are.”

Sachiko was pale, not a single thought in her head as she tried to digest all of this information. Her eyes dropped to the ground as she swallowed down hard. “So… you never wanted…” She wasn’t sure if she could say it. “B-but I’m your child.” She whispered softly, tears in her eyes. “Every parent should love their children. Don’t… did I not mean anything to you?”

“Oh, you did.” Katsuki acknowledged, nodding his head certain of that. “You did. You meant approximately three hundred thousand US dollars. That’s how much your father paid me to keep you. So, in exchange of that ridiculous amount of money as well as birthing you, your father lost his dreams and ambitions, resigned to working for his father which he hated the idea of, and became a dad, stuck with you. So if that is all your questions, I have a meeting in thirty minutes that I’d like to prepare for.”

Sachiko stared back at him, her eyes wide in the same way that Eijiro looked at him the day Katsuki told him to move out of his life. Sachiko looked down with a shaky smile on her face. “I see.” She whispered. She shuffled as she bowed her head to him, closing her eyes. “Thank you for your time, Mr Bakugou.” She whispered.

Katsuki knew he was being harsh, borderline inhumane, but if he wanted her to leave him alone, he’d have to take such drastic measures. This would be something for her to learn so that she would not come into his life again, and so that they could live their separate lives as agreed upon.

He opened his mouth to speak but the sound of his door opening, took his attention. Borderline sprinting into his office as Eijiro who had a scowl on his face. His eyes moved to Sachiko and instantly they eased. “Sachi.” He whispered as he moved over to her. You quickly came into the room as well, staying by the doorway. Katsuki raised an eyebrow, wondering who on earth you were exactly. Maybe her nanny? Eijiro crouched down in front of his daughter and took her by her shoulders. “Sachiko, are you okay?” She nodded her head speechless. He kissed her forehead and looked back over to Katsuki. “Go to Y/N please, and wait outside. I’m coming now.”

She silently followed his order as she walked over to you. You brought the little girl into your arms as you closed the door, allowing Eijiro and Katsuki some time alone in over a decade.

Once the door was closed, Eijiro’s face dropped as he scowled. He looked to Katsuki. “What on earth did you say to my daughter?” He asked with a low growl.

Katsuki raised an eyebrow. “No hello? How are you? How have you been the last twelve years?”

“Answer the question, Bakugou.”

Katsuki let out a tsk, as he stood up off his desk. He pointed a finger to Eijiro. “Your daughter came to me, Kirishima. She found her way through security and up the building just to come and talk to me, to ask who her real mother is.”

Eijiro’s face fell at that news. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know but he had to. “And what did you say?”

Katsuki put his hands on his hips. “I told her the truth.”

“You did what?”

“I told her the truth!” Katsuki repeated with a glare on his face. “I warned you, that after that… she was born that she and you were to never come into my life again!” He shouted at what used to be his best friend. “So I told her the truth, that I never wanted her and that she was here only on the pure grace of God that I decided to take up that deal with you.”

Eijiro’s face twisted into something close to disbelief and disgust as he took a step back. He almost wanted to refuse to believe it but Katsuki had no reason to lie. “How on earth could you say that to a child?!”

“She wanted to go digging in graves, she found what she was looking for.”

Eijiro looked down at the blond in disbelief. He let out a scoff as he frowned. “How can you have such hatred in your heart for someone that has done nothing to you?” He asked. He motioned to the door. “She’s a good eleven year old girl, who’s apparent only sin against you was being born!”

“Only sin?” Katsuki asked with a tilt of his head. “No, she ruined me!” He shouted as he took a step closer to Eijiro. “You have no idea what it was like being forced to carry that child and have it change your body to its will.”

“Forced? Katsuki you weren’t forced to do anything!” Eijiro shouted.

Katsuki let out a loud cynical laugh, stepping back as he turned away from Eijiro for a moment. “Eijiro, you forced me to carry it!”

“Don’t you dare call my daughter and ‘it’! I gave you an alternative!” Eijiro corrected. “I gave you another choice, a way that I could have my daughter and it would have no ties to you. You chose that alternative. I didn’t force you to do anything.”

“Yah, you only bribed me into having a child!”

“If it was the only way to keep her alive, so be it!”

“Keep her alive!?”

“Tell me Katsuki, why could my daughter not be human enough for you to keep her? Is she only human now that’s she’s older?”

Katsuki tsked as he looked away from Eijiro. He shook his head as he furrowed his eyebrows looking away from Eijiro. “Well I hope you’re happier now.” He spoke snidely and lowly, not answering Eijiro’s last questions. His hands gripped his biceps as he walked back to behind his desk. “And real good job by the way, raising her to be such a prim and proper princess. I almost didn’t feel judged.”

Eijiro frowned. “Did my daughter say anything that insulted you?” He asked, wanting a straight answer. “Did she show you any hate or admonish you in any way shape or form?”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Please, it doesn’t matter. I could see that Kirishima upbringing from a mile away. Tell your parents they did a stellar job.”

“A good upbringing that taught her to be kind and respectful?” He asked with a tilted head. “Stop trying to villainise an innocent girl in your life! Unlike you Katsuki, I am happy.” He put a hand to his chest as he looked to the blond. “I really am.” Katsuki looked back at his old best friend. Eijiro didn’t have an inkling of regret on his face. His eyebrows were furrowed as he looked straight at Katsuki. “I’m happy with my daughter and my girlfriend and my family. I have no regrets.” He stated as he moved to turn around to leave. “I hope one day you’ll find it in your heart to not have any either. And for what it’s worth…” He paused at the door as he looked at what was once his best friend. “I hope you know that the best thing you have ever made was her.” Eijiro left the room, deciding to leave the past where it was.

Eijiro closed the door of the apartment as you took Sachiko by the hand. You had been trying to talk to her but she hadn’t responded beyond nods and shaking of her head. Whatever happened in there was greatly affecting her. You looked down at her worried.

“Sachiko.” At the sound of her name, the eleven-year-old girl paused before looking up at her father. Eijiro moved to stand in front her, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at her with a frown on his face. “You deliberately left the park without adult supervision or consent. Do you know how dangerous that is? You could have been in danger. How on earth did you even get to the Bakugou building in the first place and why didn’t you tell me you wanted to know who gave birth to you? I could have talked to you.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” She let out softly as her eyes were down casted. “You never want to talk about it. You always just tell me that every kid is different.”

Eijiro paused. He sighed, knowing she wasn’t completely wrong. “Still. If you wanted to know exactly, why didn’t you just ask me directly? Do you know how worried Y/N, Masaki’s mom and I were for your safety? This isn’t-”

“Then why don’t you just get rid of me!” She shouted up at him. Eijiro’s eyes widened in shock. She had never shouted at him before. Tears fell from her crimson eyes as she looked up at her father with a broken expression. “I know you never wanted a kid anyway! I’m a mistake, right?”

Eijiro’s arms fell to his side as he looked at her confused. His face scrunched up in pain on why she would ever say that. “Sachi…” He tried taking a step forward to her but she took a step away from him, closer to you.

“No!” She shouted. “I know I make life difficult for you! You’re always worried about me, and you never get time to hang out with your friends or do anything you like with me here! Why-why did you even spend all that money for him to keep m-me?” She sobbed as she hiccupped, trying to catch her breath. “You would have been happier if I were never born!”

“Don’t say that.” Eijiro said with a serious expression as he crouched down in front of her with his hands on her shoulders. “Please, don’t ever say that.”

She let out a hiccup as she rubbed her eyes. “But it’s true, Daddy.” She let out with crippled cries, her face pink as she was overcome with emotions. “At least t-that way…” She hiccuped. “I wouldn’t be able to make life difficult for you.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s not true.” He denied it. He carefully moved his large hands to cup her round face. Her jaw shivered with quite cries as tears came out of her eyes. He moved her black hair out of her face and wiped the tear marks from her eyes. “Sachiko.” He started speaking softly. You saw a gentle smile come onto his face as he looked at her with so much love in his eyes. “You are the best thing to have ever happened to me. Intentionally or not. You gave me purpose that I never knew I needed in my life. Life felt so much brighter ever since you came into it. Do you know the first moment I loved you?”

She shook her head with a sniffle. You took out a tissue and gave it to her, allowing her to wipe her nose.

Eijiro smiled broadly, tears in his eyes as he leaned to put his forehead against hers. “The moment I heard your heartbeat at seven weeks. Sachi, you weren’t even born, and I had enough love for you that it made my chest hurt.” She let out a soft whimper as tears fell out of her eyes. He let out a gentle laugh. “So many people love you, I love you, Y/N loves you, your grandparents and aunties love you. Sachi, you aren’t a mistake. That’s why I named you Sachiko.” He reminded her. Tears finally fell from his eyes as he looked at her with a genuine smile. “You’re my little miracle.” She hiccupped as she nodded her head, rubbing her eyes as she tried to stop her tears. “The reason I wake up every morning and Did you do your affirmations today?” At the question, she couldn’t help but chuckle and smile but she shook her head. Eijiro shook his head with tsks. “Come on, you know the words.”

Sachiko she closed her eyes for a second before opening her crimson eyes again. “My… my name is Kirishima Sachiko… daughter of Kirishima Eijiro.”

“Yes, you are.” He affirmed for her, rubbing her soft knuckles with his thumb as he smiled up at her. “Go on.”

“I… I am constantly growing and developing into a g-good person. I am b-beautiful, I am strong, I am smart and I am talented. I kn-now my values. I am as strong as a mountain and as proud as a dragon. I am a Kirishima, worthy, l-loved and true.” She finished.

Eijiro smiled broadly, pride brimming in his eyes. “That’s my girl.”

She burst into sobs as she fell into his arms. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she cried. He chuckled as he held her in his arms. He tightened his grip around her. He looked up at you, and you smiled with emotional tears of your own. You nodded your head as you picked up her backpack.

“There, there, you can cry.” He told her as he comforted her. He picked her up easily in his arms. “How about you take a nap, hm? Naps always make me feel better.”

Eijiro laughed as he stood up and took your plates to the kitchen. You leaned back into the couch as you looked out at the dark night sky.

After the fiasco of Katsuki and Sachiko finding out about him, things sort of went back to normal which you were grateful for. It was you, Eijiro and Sachiko. However, Eijiro had been acting odd for a bit. He was odd in a way that you couldn’t really put a finger on it. He seemed to be giggly recently, and a bit nervous. All until tonight, when he invited you over with Sachiko out at Akari’s house.

“Y/N.” You turned to look up at your boyfriend who walked over to you. He carefully motioned for you to stand up, offering his hand to you. You raised an eyebrow but took his hand standing up onto your own two feet. He gently guided you up onto your feet.

You watched your large boyfriend guide you away from the comfortable couch and to who knows where. “Eijiro, where are you taking me?” You asked skeptically as you looked back at him.

He shushed you sweetly with a smile on his face. “Don’t worry about it, my love.” You hummed, not taking a word he had just said seriously. He chuckled as he guides you forward. His ruby eyes focused forward, a gentle look in them that had you wondering what he was planning right now.

You opened your mouth to speak but then your eyes caught on something making you pause. You were standing in the doorway to Eijiro’s bedroom, but it seemed totally different. There were roses everywhere with low lighting and special candle light. You looked around his room with wide eyes at the romantic set up he seemed to have made all himself. “Eijiro…” You let out softly. “What… what is all of thi-”

You turned around to face him but your boyfriend had disappeared. You looked down and your eyes widened. Sitting on one knee was Eijiro. He wasn’t nervous, he wasn’t anxious, he was sure. His eyes were sure. His face was sure. He let out a breath but smiled up at you, as he took your hand. “Y/N.” His large hands, large thumbs rubbed over your knuckles as he kissed your hand.

“E-Eijiro, what… what are you-”

“I know that I came with a lot of baggage,” He started off as he looked up at you. “I came with a little girl who had never known a mother in her life, some trauma and apprehension too. You deserve far better and yet you allowed me into your life. Initially, I was scared, but I’m not scared anymore. Y/N, you are one of the few good things in my life. You are wonderful, you are kind, you are such an amazing mother to my baby girl, and I couldn’t have asked for anything more from you. You did this all effortlessly. You didn’t have to begged or forced. You were patient with us, and you were at our side when all this chaos was happening. I…” Suddenly out of his back pocket, you saw a velvet box. The lid was flipped up and staring up at you, with beautiful diamonds was an engagement ring. “I know we haven’t been dating long, not even longer than a year but, I’m sure about this, I’m sure about you and I wanted to ask you this before I lose myself. L/N Y/N, would you do me the honour of marrying m-”

You didn’t even let him finish as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his lips. Eijiro’s eyes widened in surprise before a chuckle stumbled out of his lips as he wrapped his arms around your arms. He smiled against your lips as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer. You were crying as you held him. Disbelief giggles stumbled out of your chest as you couldn’t help but smile against his lips as you giggled and cried.

Eijiro blinked, thick lashes brushing his cheeks as he stared at you with wide ruby eyes. He searched your face. “So that’s a-”

“YES! Eijiro, yes, I will marry you!” You affirmed, nodding your head as you pulled him into another kiss.

Eijiro wrapped an arm around you as he pulled you in tighter. He let out a stuttered breath as you deepened the kiss. Your hands moved to the back of his head, feeling his locks and baby hairs at the back of his head as you did so. He groaned as he bit your bottom lip and slipped his tongue into your mouth.

You were perfect, you were perfect for him, you were perfect for his girl, you were perfect in their lives. All he wanted was you and right now he could barely think past his tight boxers.

He pulled back with a heavy breath. “Wait… wait, wait, wait.” He breathed out heavily.

You looked up at him, waiting on whatever he had to say. “Do you still want to wait?”

“God no.” He shook his head firmly denying it. He leaned forward, closer to you, his eyes hooded with lust and want. “No, I want to be as deep inside you as possible.” You felt a rush go down your back at the look in his eyes as you tried to stifle a giggle stupid smile. “But I want to do it with you wearing my family diamonds, with my ring on your finger, treated like a real Kirishima wife should be treated.”

-Glitch1d

#kirishima x reader #dad kirishima #dilf kirishima #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima eijirou #kirishima eijiro #bnha eijiro kirishima #mha eijirou #bnha eijirou #eijirou x reader #eijirou kirishima imagine #mha kirishima #mha x y/n #bnha #eijiro kirishima x reader #eijiro kirishima #kirishima x y/n #girl dad kirishima

240 notes · View notes

vodika-vibes · 2 days

Note

Hello friend! I have a request if you have the time, and it doesn't have to be very long.. here's the idea: During the early days of the clone wars Anakin is teamed up with a Jedi that wars blue robes, and Rex is immediately intrigued, cuz you know, 501s blue. His intrigue grows into admiration and then infatuation. He's crushing real hard. And this Jedi feels the same way.

So yeah maybe the kiss maybe they don't, whatever you like (it'd be great if the kiss 👀).

Again, only if you have time. Thanks 💙

Alright There, Captain?

Summary: Rex falls in love.

Pairing: Captain Rex x F!Jedi Reader

Word Count: 946

Warnings: Mentions of Fives' death

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Hihi! I hope this is close to what you wanted. I was trying to make it seem like snapshots into Rex's life as he slowly falls in love, but I'm not sure I pulled it off. Happy reading!

So far as Rex is aware, Jedi only wear black, dark brown, light brown, or white. Of course, his only evidence for this is General Skywalker and General Kenobi, but it seems to hold true. Based on some of the conversations he’s had with brothers in other battalions, at least.

As far as Rex is concerned, it might as well be a rule. Jedi wear muted colors.

And Rex genuinely believes that…right up until the day a young woman arrives on the Resolute in her small ship. She’s obviously a jedi, based on the lightsaber hanging on her hip and based on how enthusiastically General Skywalker greets her, but she doesn’t look like any jedi he’s met before.

For one, the only part of her outfit that could be considered “robe like” is the cloth belt around her waist. For another, her belt is the same shade of blue as his armor.

“Ah, Rex! There you are.” General Skywalker calls him over with a bright smile, and then he turns to the woman, “This is my Captain, he’ll show you someplace where you can change. Are you sure you don’t need to go to medical?”

“I’m fine, Anakin.” She says with a laugh, “You worry overly much.” And then she turns her gaze to Rex, “Alright there, Captain?”

“Nice to meet you, ma’am.” He replies politely.

She smiles kindly, “I just need someplace private to change back into my robes before I give my mission brief.”

“Of course, right this way.”

When she came out of the private fresher, dressed in blue and white robes, Rex couldn’t help his interest. She’s unlike any other jedi that he’s ever met.

But he’s still a clone, and they are still a galaxy at war. So, while he makes a mental note of her name, he figures that this will be the last time he sees her.

So far as he’s concerned, they’re just two ships passing in the night. A shame, but such is his fate.

The next time he sees her is several months later, when she rescues him and some of his brothers from a surprise attack.

She appears from nowhere, emerging from the surrounding forest to take out the droids as though she had been summoned. And, in spite of all of the physical activity, and in spite of the danger, she looks calm and composed.

Her hair is neat, as are her robes, and she doesn’t move more than she has to.

Rex can’t help but compare her to General Skywalker, and with some shame, he admits that his General is lacking when compared to her. Anakin would never be so calm and composed in a situation like this.

She commands the battlefield like she’s a goddess of war…and Rex finds himself smitten with her.

Once the fighting is over, Rex expects her to leave, to return to her mission, like what Anakin would do. But she surprises him, by taking the time to make sure that the men are okay, helping them to their feet, and patching up the ones who needed it.

And then she’s at his side, a warm smile on her pretty face as she kneels next to him, “Alright there, Captain?”

“Yes ma’am, just a little dinged.” Rex replies as she helps him sit up, “Thanks for helping.”

“You don’t have to thank me for caring, Rex.” She looks around, “Where’s your General?”

Rex’s face falls, “I…don’t know.”

Her face remains calm, “Not here then. That’s alright, do you mind if I take charge until he arrives?”

“I’d appreciate that General,” Rex says, as he stares at her face.

She favors him with the warmest smile, and Rex feels his heart skip a beat, “Rest now, General.” She says as she presses her hand against his shoulder, “I’ll take care of everything else.”

And, as she walks away, Rex can’t help but wonder if this is what love feels like.

The night after Fives dies, Rex is in a bar. He’s not drunk, but he doesn’t want to see his brothers. He doesn’t want to see anyone. Not Anakin. Not Obi-Wan. Not any of his brothers from the 501st.

For one night, he just wants to stop being him.

He lifts his head when a pair of delicate looking hands, with blue nails, appears in his line of sight. He follows the deceptively frail looking arms up to a familiar face.

Her smile is sad, “Alright there, Captain?”

He releases a shuddering breath, “No. Not really.”

She nods and slides into the booth next to him, her body soft and warm when pressed against his side, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I just…I want to stop being me, just for one night.” Rex admits as he looks at her.

Her hands come up and cup his face, “I wish I could take your pain from you.” She whispers.

Rex stares at her, at her pretty face, at her stunning eyes, at the way she still wears his colors—

“I’ve always loved how you wear my colors,” Rex admits as he lightly touches the blue part of her robe. “You look good in them.”

Her smile is warm, “Blue has always been my favorite color.”

“It suits you.” Rex murmurs, his hands come up to cradle her face, “Can I kiss you?”

Her smile widens slightly, “I’d like that a lot.” She whispers.

It’s all she needs to say, as Rex leans in and presses his lips against hers. She’s warm and soft and everything he’s ever fantasized about and more. And, for the first time in a long time, Rex thinks that maybe everything will be alright.

#star wars #tcw #captain rex x reader #rex x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

66 notes · View notes

lexamiele · 2 days

Text

A Little Secret

Rightmost image from Elizabeth on Pinterest here, other two are mine

Part 2 of I Think It's Time to Switch Roles - Tom Riddle x Reader

Requested by: @lackingstateofmind @annaisanarchyofficial @justarandomcanadiantransdude

Word count: approx. 8.5k

Summary: You're done with Mattheo's reckless behavior. So is his brother, Tom. Where will your newfound connection take you?

Warnings/be aware: Tom Riddle III/Tom and Mattheo are the sons of Voldemort, ooc!Tom Riddle, mentions of cheating (not Tom), implied that the reader is a Hufflepuff, one major (1 week) time skip, use of Y/N, playboy!Mattheo, it's long

A/N: Part 2 of I Think It’s Time to Switch Roles is finally finished! Thank you all for being patient while I rewrote this like five times and also took finals. If you haven’t read I Think It’s Time to Switch roles, I would recommend reading that first here. For all of my Mattheo lovers I promise I will write something that's nicer to bby Matty soon, in the meantime I hope you enjoy!

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

“I think I like your brother better.”

You were trying to wind up Mattheo and it worked, his eyes flashing in anger as he looked at you in disbelief.

“So that’s what this is about?” he demanded. “You’re just looking for a reason to go running off with – “

“No, Mattheo,” you groaned, rolling your eyes as you tried to prevent the confrontation from devolving into him whining over your and Tom’s plan. “I’m looking for someone who’s mature and reliable and honest, and you just are not those things!” A month’s worth of frustration that had gone unreleased spilled out of you. “You did a great job of keeping me holding on for a while, but it’s over. I don’t believe you anymore.” He scoffed.

“Fine,” he spat. “Go mess around with whoever you want, see if I care.” Your mouth dropped open at his utter lack of self-awareness as he turned on his heel and stepped away.

“How in Salazar’s name is this about me?” you shouted at his retreating back, throwing your hands up in anger. “You’re the one who couldn’t keep your hands off someone else!” He ignored you, striding away with Blaise and Theo as you simmered with rage.

“He will come around eventually.”

You turned in the direction that the deep voice had just emanated from and saw Tom watching you, an even expression on his face. You knew there was no way he could’ve heard what you’d said to egg on Mattheo – it had been too quiet – but your stomach still dropped slightly at the reminder of his presence.

“I don’t really care if he comes around or not,” you admitted, your voice catching in your throat slightly. You weren’t going to waste your time trying to change someone who refused to do so of his own accord. “I still care about him, but I don’t trust him anymore. And without that, there’s no point.” You let out a heavy breath. “Thanks for trying. I’ll see you around, yeah?” He didn’t react, leaving you to turn around and walk away.

“Y/N?”

You spun back around at the sound of his voice behind you. “Yes?”

“You are much more than he deserves.” His eyes were narrowed, and if you didn’t know better you would’ve thought that he looked slightly sad. You blinked in surprise.

“I…thank you.” He nodded once in response, watching as you walked away. You didn’t know what to make of it.

You spent the next week drowning out the noise in your head with schoolwork, remaining resolutely holed up in your common room as you worked to avoid running into Tom, Mattheo, Lisa, or anyone else who might be out and about in the castle. The strategy proved oddly effective, and you had several remarkably productive workdays, finishing all of your assignments for the next several weeks. Once you ran out of essays to write, you moved to studying for NEWTs. You were in the process of marching through your Defense textbook and creating review notes when your studying was interrupted.

“Earth to Y/N!” Something cushy and dense smacked you in the back of the head, causing you to make an errant marking on the parchment in front of you with your quill. You frowned and turned around, seeing that the object that had hit you was a throw pillow and the launcher of said pillow was your best friend, Hannah Abbot. Pressing your lips together, you tried to avoid snapping.

“What, Han?” you sighed. “I’m a little busy.” She raised her eyebrows.

“You’ve been busy for every moment of the past week,” she responded. “How many essays can you possibly have left to write?” You glanced at the floor.

“None,” you admitted reluctantly. “I’ve been studying for NEWTs.”

“Right.” She stood up and strode towards you, flipping the textbook in front of you shut and yanking the quill out of your hand.

“Hey!”

“You’re coming with me,” she declared, grabbing your wrist and pulling you in the direction of the staircases that led to the dormitories.

“But I was working!”

“Please, you were avoiding.” She shot you a skeptical glance as she walked. “You have to talk about Mattheo sometime, Y/N! It’s been a week and you haven’t even mentioned him.”

“I will!” you protested. “Once I finish studying for NEWTs.” Hannah laughed incredulously.

“Okay, so once you finish the Sisyphean task that we’re supposed to complete over the next two years, then you’ll talk about it?” You grimaced. “I’m your best friend!” she continued, pausing in front of you and looking you in the eye. “Please talk to me?”

You sighed, feeling slightly guilty for isolating yourself so much during the past week. “You’re right,” you admitted. “I’ve just felt so…not myself over the past few days. Doing schoolwork is the only thing that makes me feel normal.” Hannah shook her head.

“You’re going through a breakup, Y/N,” she replied, opening the doors of your dormitory. “And don’t give me that ‘we were never officially dating’ nonsense, he was important to you. It’s not going to feel normal. You have to work through all of those feelings to move on.” You stepped forward and plopped down on your bed. She joined you, kicking off her shoes swiftly and sitting cross-legged with her back against the footboard.

“I know, there’s just a lot going on,” you explained, closing your bedcurtains and casting a quick Silencing Charm around the bed so that no one else could listen in. Her eyes widened.

“Well there must be, if the Silencing Charm is coming out,” she remarked with surprise. “What’s up?”

You told her about the events of the previous weekend – how you’d run into Tom in the library, your plan to teach Mattheo a lesson, and how he’d apologized to you but turned back into his old self the moment you’d questioned his willingness to change.

“It’s over for good,” you said to Hannah. “I thought that maybe if the plan worked and he apologized, I would take him back. But there was just…something about the things he was saying, I didn’t believe him.”

“And it seems like you were right,” she affirmed. “I mean if he switched from begging for your forgiveness to insulting you that quickly…” You nodded, feeling yourself tearing up at the memory.

“It seemed so unlike him,” you said sadly as Hannah wrapped a comforting arm around you. “But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was exactly like him. He was so sweet to me when things were good, when I was new and shiny and interesting, but the moment that someone he liked better came along – poof. I didn’t matter anymore.”

“Ugh, he’s such a loser,” she said sourly. Out of all your friends, she’d been the most skeptical of Mattheo’s initial advances. “You’re an amazing partner, Y/N. The way he acts says everything about his worth, not about yours.”

“I know,” you agreed hesitantly. “I should’ve never gone out with him in the first place. He wasn’t even close to what I was looking for. He was just new, and exciting, and…I don’t know.”

“People make mistakes,” she stated gently, rubbing your back with her palm. “He was a smooth talker and a nice guy in his better moments, I can understand what you saw in him. But you deserve to set higher standards for yourself! When you get back out there, whenever that is, you��re going to stick to your guns and find someone who’s everything that you want.” You pressed your lips together, hesitating for a moment.

“I think I might have?” Your voice squeaked slightly and your best friend’s eyes widened with excitement.

“Really?” she exclaimed, scooting forward on the bed. “Who?” You sighed.

“Okay, it’s so bad,” you prefaced, leaning your head back.

“No, sweetie, I thought we were done with the bad boys!”

“It’s not that,” you clarified, covering your face with your hands for a moment. “It’s just…I don’t know, I’d never actually go for it. It was just sort of a whim that I got.”

“Okay,” Hannah responded, looking intrigued.

“It’s just that, well, when Tom and I ran into each other and came up with this whole plan…we ended up spending a lot of time together, and at some point I sort of realized that, well, he’s got everything I’m looking for.” You winced slightly as her mouth fell open.

“No way,” she remarked, laughing eagerly. “Mattheo’s brother?”

“Am I a horrible person?” Hannah shot you a skeptical look.

“No, no,” she dismissed. “Under other circumstances…maybe it wouldn’t be a great look. But he cheated! You owe him nothing.”

“Are you sure?” She laughed.

“Yes, I’m sure! Honestly, I think everyone who’s ever been played by Mattheo Riddle would respect you more for it.” She paused for a moment, grinning. “What’s Tom like, by the way? He seems so scary.” You thought for a moment.

“I was always a little intimidated by him,” you agreed. “He was always pretty stoic and difficult to read when Mattheo and I were together, but once we found some common ground, it was like – I don’t know. We just clicked so well, in a weird way. He’s so clever and mature…and responsible! He has his life so together! I think he has a planner and everything. And he’s such a gentleman, he was so respectful the whole time. Not to mention he’s gorgeous.” Hannah grinned.

“You’re not wrong there,” she said. “I reckon he’d pull more than any of those other Slytherins if he’d just stop walking around looking like he’s about to Avada someone constantly.” You giggled.

“I just have no idea how he feels about me,” you sighed. “Whatever. I probably just need to take a break from boys anyway.”

“Don’t we all,” Hannah joked. “By the way, Gryffindor plays Ravenclaw in Quidditch tomorrow. Want to come with me?” She watched you hopefully.

“Hannah Abbot,” you gasped playfully, your mouth gaping in teasing surprise. “Are you asking me to rejoin society with you?” She burst into laughter. “I would be honored.”

The Gryffindor-Ravenclaw game was spectacularly exciting, with Ron Weasley making a remarkable thirty-six saves as Keeper and Cho Chang just barely beating out Harry Potter in a race to the Snitch to prevent a runaway Gryffindor victory.

“Now if Hufflepuff beats Gryffindor next week, we’ll be in first place in the standings for the Quidditch Cup!” Hannah exclaimed to you eagerly as the two of you walked back to the castle. “We’ll be in great position for the House Cup as well, we’ve been earning loads of House Points lately. Slytherin was just ahead of us, and they lost a ton of points last week.”

“Oh yeah, wasn’t that a party that got busted or something?” you asked, vaguely remembering overhearing a conversation about the incident during Herbology several days previously.

“The fifth-year boys got caught with a stash of Firewhiskey that would be better suited to the Three Broomsticks than a Hogwarts dormitory,” Hannah clarified with a laugh.

“I’m surprised it wasn’t the sixth years,” you remarked, shaking your head. “I’ve seen Zabini’s stash, that guy could open up his own pub and have stock to spare.”

“Oh, Zabini,” she sighed, shaking her head and giggling slightly in spite of herself. “The last time I went to a Slytherin party, he was so drunk he called me ‘Susan’ the entire night and then spilled wine down the front of my dress.”

“He’s lucky you’re so good at Cleaning Charms.”

“He’s lucky I’m not better at the Bat-Bogey Hex,” she retorted playfully. You fell into a comfortable silence as you entered the castle, winding through the entrance hall, up the stairs, and past the library. “Shoot.” She frowned as she looked at the library doors. “I need to go find a book to finish that essay for McGonagall, I completely forgot to do that yesterday.”

“Oh, did you want to go now?” You paused in your tracks. “I can come with you.” Hannah shook her head.

“It’s from the Restricted Section, I haven’t got the permission note with me,” she explained, running a hand through her hair. “Ugh, I’m going to have to go get it from the common room and come all the way back. I’ve got so much work left to do on that essay, I’m going to be up all night.”

“Isn’t that the one that’s due tomorrow?” She nodded despairingly. You felt a sudden surge of relief that you’d finished your assignments so early. “What’re you writing it about? I finished mine on Tuesday and I didn’t need to get anything from the Restricted Section.”

“I chose the unregistered animagi and illegal animal transformations prompt, I definitely need to go to the Restricted Section,” she sighed, her forehead crinkling with stress. “And it’s going to take forever to find too, the Transfiguration shelves are terribly organized…I don’t know if I’ll be able to finish it. I can’t believe I put it off for this long.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” you interjected, placing a gentle hand on Hannah’s shoulder. “Are there parts of the essay you can do without that book?” She nodded. “Okay, perfect. I’ve already finished that essay, I’ll go find the book for you and then help you with yours.”

“Really? Oh, you’re the best,” she remarked, beaming.

“It’s nothing,” you dismissed with a grin. “We’re gonna get this done, okay?”

“Okay,” she declared. “Right, we’ve got this.”

Hannah revised her essay outline while the two of you ate dinner in the Great Hall. You were enjoying the food and the company until shrill giggles reached your ears from across the room. Glancing toward the source of the noise, you saw that it was none other than Lisa Turpin, fussing and laughing loudly as she sat on Mattheo’s lap. His hands were all over her, and before you could avert your eyes, they started snogging aggressively.

“Oh, ew,” you groaned, your nose wrinkling in disgust as you looked back towards Hannah, who was across from you at the table.

“What?” She glanced up at your objection. You nodded towards the Slytherin table and she turned around, her expression soon mirroring yours. “Nasty,” she remarked, shaking her head as she turned back to her parchment. “There are literally professors here! That’s disgusting. Acquire a sense of shame, please.”

“It’s so good to not be with someone who has no concept of boundaries,” you declared, flipping your hair. To your surprise, you really meant it. You didn’t feel the expected twinge of sadness when you saw Mattheo and Lisa together – just secondhand embarrassment.

“Cheers to that,” Hannah added, lifting her glass of pumpkin juice. You clinked yours against it, taking a sip of the sweet drink.

After dinner, you headed back to the Hufflepuff common room with Hannah, where she passed the permission note to access the Restricted Section on to you.

“No one should check too closely – Madame Pince is off duty after 8. But just in case,” she added, lifting her wand to the parchment and murmuring an incantation under her breath. When she handed it to you, you saw that it now said your name on it instead of hers. “Thank you so much, you’re the best.”

“Of course! No worries at all,” you assured her. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

The library was quiet when you entered – most people must’ve gone back to their common rooms after dinner. Feeling slightly nervous even though you had a note, you walked through the stacks until you found the discreet Restricted Section. Carefully, you entered, the parchment from Hannah providing reassurance in your hand as you inspected the shelves. The only sound around you was the click of your shoes on the floor and an inexplicable hum emanating from one of the tomes sitting in the Defense Against the Dark Arts section. After a few moments of searching, you found the shelves containing the Transfiguration texts.

“Animal transformations…animals, animals, animals,” you murmured to yourself, skimming the spines of each book on the shelves. You shifted from crouching to kneeling to standing on your tiptoes, searching the texts, but you couldn’t seem to spot the book listed on the note. Grimacing, you wondered if this was going to be more difficult than you’d imagined.

Your resolve still strong, you crossed the aisle and began inspecting another set of shelves full of Transfiguration texts. Though you found scrolls, aging encyclopedias, instructions for transforming human skulls into all sorts of objects, and one collection of volumes that were suspiciously cold to the touch and looked as though their bindings were on the verge of crumbling, you couldn’t seem to locate to book in question. In the silence, you began to lose track of yourself as you explored.

“Sneaking about, are we?”

Nearly jumping out of your skin as a deep voice broke your focus, you whipped around to see none other than Tom Riddle standing behind you.

“Merlin!” you exclaimed, breathing hard as you put a hand to your heart. “You scared me.” He stepped forward, and a tingle ran down your spine at his close proximity.

“What are you looking for?” he asked in a low voice. Your mind went blank as you found yourself captive in his intense stare, and you scrambled for a few seconds until you recalled the note in your hand.

“Um, this,” you finally replied, swallowing thickly as you handed him the parchment. His eyes scanned the writing for a bit before he placed the note back in your hand. He turned around, striding towards the end of the bookcase you’d been exploring. With ease, he withdrew a text from the shelf and placed it in your hands. Your breath caught in your throat as your fingers came to rest on top of his, and you felt your spine press against the shelves behind you as you stepped back.

“Spiritae Bestiae, that’s a fascinating text.” He met your gaze with interest. “Of course, I’m sure Madame Pince would prefer if Abbot retrieved her own selections from the Restricted Section.” You felt your cheeks flush as you wondered how on Earth he’d known.

“She’s worried about getting the essay done by the due date, I offered to get the book for her to save her some time,” you explained softly. His eyes softened almost imperceptibly, the harsh expression on his face fading into something more neutral.

“I suppose this can be our little secret,” he replied, releasing his hold on the volume. For a moment, he stood before you, stealing the breath from your lungs with his emerald gaze as he watched you. Then, slowly, he stepped away and you came to your senses, moving back into the aisle as he pulled a book that had been on the shelf behind him away from its place.

“What’s that for?” You were scarcely able to hear your voice over the sound of your heartbeat in your ears.

“Nosy, nosy,” he murmured, the corner of his mouth tilting up into a little smirk. Your face grew warm again. “Professor Slughorn asked me to obtain it. I’ll be providing him with some after-hours assistance brewing potions next week.” He began to thumb through the pages and you stepped forward, standing on your toes to look over his shoulder. The pictures that adorned some of the pages looked rather gruesome, with one unfortunately afflicted individual grasping at his back while a pair of bat wings burst forth from his shoulder blades, and another grimacing as a tongue like a snake’s emerged from his mouth.

“Yikes,” you remarked to yourself. Tom glanced over his shoulder, suddenly made aware of your presence, and decisively pushed you a few steps back with his forearm.

“That’s not for your eyes, darling,” he stated, closing the book harshly and causing it to emit a small puff of dust.

“I’m not a child, Tom.” You crossed your arms playfully, his serious gaze clashing with your grin.

“This author has a deep fascination with magic of the most twisted nature,” he said, frowning. “You’re too sweet to be worrying yourself with such things.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, but you couldn’t help indulging your twinge of curiosity. “What does Professor Slughorn want with it then?” Tom began to walk toward the exit of the Restricted Section and you fell into step next to him.

“Unfortunately, the author of this book, for all of his morbid fascinations, was also a gifted Potions master,” he explained. “One of his great inventions was a powerful potion for dreamless sleep, the original recipe for which resides here.” He held up the dusty text in his hand. “It’s been revised endless times by other scholars hoping to improve it, but Professor Slughorn suspects that the original formula is actually superior. He hopes to test that theory.”

“That’s…really groundbreaking work,” you remarked, raising your eyebrows. “Healers use dreamless sleep potions all the time. If you rediscovered a formula that was more effective than the existing ones, that would be incredible.” You’d always known that Tom was the most promising student in his year, but this was on a different level entirely.

“We hope so.” There was a moment of silence as the two of you left the Restricted Section and began to walk through the standard library stacks. “Are you…alright?”

The words sounded foreign in his mouth, and you nearly asked what on Earth he was talking about until you remembered how distressed you’d been about Mattheo the last time the two of you had talked. Oddly, it felt like a lifetime ago.

“Oh, I’m okay,” you replied quickly. “Honestly, it doesn’t even really bother me anymore. Seeing him sucking face with Turpin in the middle of the Great Hall made me lose any respect I had left for him.”

“Indeed.” You glanced over at him and saw his eyes flicker slightly. In a second it was gone, and he scoffed. “They were getting far too intimate in the Slytherin common room when I left. Between ordering them to get off each other every five minutes and listening to Malfoy’s constant yammering, it’s been impossible to concentrate lately.” The two of you came to a long table sitting amongst the bookshelves and he placed the book in his hand down, then set his school bag next to it. He removed a number of other books from it, including an old Ancient Runes dictionary and the narrow black one that you recognized as his notebook, along with a quill and ink pot. Hesitantly, you sat down next to him. You supposed that spending five more minutes with Tom wouldn’t delay your delivery of Hannah’s book too significantly.

“Is that why you came to the library?”

“Yes.” You opened the book you’d just obtained, your eyes skimming the pages as he wrote hastily on the parchment in front of him. His handwriting was sharp and neat, the letters tightly clustered together. As he wrote, the silver rings on his fingers flashed in the dim light. “NEWTs aren’t far away, I need some quiet.”

“Well, I suppose I ought to stop distracting you then.” You laughed, feeling slightly awkward.

“That isn’t what I meant.” His statement was abrupt and you blinked in surprise.

“Then…I’ll stay.”

“Please.”

You found a strange peace sitting there next to him, reading the book in your arms as he took notes. Acutely aware of his close proximity, your mind wandered from the words before you.

“Have you ever considered becoming an Animagus?” you asked suddenly. If there was any Hogwarts student with the talent to do so, it was him. He raised his eyebrows, not looking up from his notes.

“I have other things to worry about at the present moment, unfortunately.” He let out a heavy breath.

“Like your experiments with Slughorn?”

“Yes, and Head Boy matters,” he said, finally looking up. “And finding suitable employment as graduation approaches, and other things. But I am certain it would be a worthy goal in the future.”

“What form do you think you would take?” Your eyes sparkled with intrigue.

“I – “

“Tom!”

You both started and whipped your heads around at the sudden noise, looking for the source. It appeared to be a girl who was rapidly approaching, ignoring the stares she was receiving for making such a loud noise in the library. As she drew closer, you recognized her as a fifth-year and a Prefect. The girl’s face was glistening with sweat and more of her hair seemed to be escaping from her ponytail than actually captured in it.

“What is it, Nancy?” Tom asked curtly.

“There’s a rogue Fanged Frisbee hurtling around the Owlery,” she wailed. “No one can seem to capture it, it’s already bitten a few people, the owls are losing their minds –”

“Oh, for Salazar’s sake,” he snapped to himself as he stood, quickly tossing his books, quill, and inkwell back into his bag. “Please tell them I’ll be right there.” The girl rushed off and Tom glanced back at you. He watched you with an indiscernible expression as you gave him a soft smile. For a second, he paused as though contemplating something, then he gave you a polite nod and turned his back to you, following the Prefect with quick, authoritative steps. After he left, you turned back to the table to grab Hannah’s book and leave yourself. As you did so, your eyes caught sight of the little black book that Tom always kept with him.

“Shoot,” you sighed, realizing that he must have left it behind in his haste to sort out the Owlery situation. “Tom?” you called, hurrying towards the front of the library, but he was long gone. Shrugging your shoulders, you set the book on top of your own and scooped them both up in your arms, resolving to return his later.

With your help, Hannah did manage to finish her essay by the next morning, though neither of you got very much sleep as a result. The next morning, the two of you made the exhausted trek to the Great Hall for breakfast, yawning copiously all the while.

“Ugh, what I wouldn’t do for a double dose of Pepperup Potion right now,” Hannah complained, holding her head in one hand and a glass of pumpkin juice in the other. She looked as though she were about to fall into her plate of eggs and toast.

“Uh, Han?” You glanced up to see Ernie MacMillan glancing over at the two of you hesitantly from the other side of the table.

“What, Ernie?” she snapped in a tone that could curdle milk.

“That’s my pumpkin juice,” he squeaked, wincing as he nodded at the glass she was holding.

“Oh, Helga’s – sorry,” she groaned squinting at the glass in her hand and then sliding it back over to the other side of the table.

“Did I miss a party or something last night?” Ernie asked. “Are you hung over?” You shook your head.

“I was working on McGonagall’s essay,” Hannah explained.

“I helped,” you chimed in.

“You’ve got to stop putting things off until the last minute.” Hannah rolled her eyes. As your friends began to bicker, their voices faded from your attention as you glanced around the Great Hall. You saw several fellow sixth-years frantically trying to finish up their Transfiguration essays as others chatted eagerly around them. For a moment, your eyes paused on Tom, who was sitting at the end of the Slytherin table, reading as usual. On closer inspection, you saw that he was paging through the book he’d gotten from the Restricted Section the previous night. You smiled to yourself, remembering the sound of his voice and the feeling of his touch as he’d handed your elusive book to you.

“Uh, Y/N? Earth to Y/N.” Hannah’s voice suddenly cut through your thoughts and you snapped back to reality as you quickly turned towards her. She was watching you with an expression of concern. “Heads up,” she added, pointing behind you. You spun around, confused. As you took in the situation, your heart dropped. Mattheo Riddle was approaching the Hufflepuff table, his eyes dead set on you.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” You dared to hope for a second that you were mistaken and he was actually headed towards the Gryffindor table behind you, but sure enough, he was soon standing before you, that annoying little smirk that he usually wore on his face.

“Get out of here, Riddle,” Ernie snarled. You had to hand it to him, he made a great effort to intimidate the Slytherin who was easily half again his size. Unfortunately, Mattheo just chuckled, raising an incredulous eyebrow in the other boy’s direction.

“Good to see you too, MacMillan,” he drawled before turning his attention back to you. “Alright, Y/N?”

“Perfectly fine, Riddle,” you said curtly. “Good of you to stop by.” You turned back to your food, hoping that he would take the hint to leave, but he seemed to deliberately ignore it.

“Can’t we talk?”

Your face contorted in bewilderment as you turned back towards him. “No?”

“Look, baby.” Your eyes widened, shocked to hear the nickname that he’d called you when the two of you had been seeing each other. “We had a fight, we both said things we regret, it happens. But…I miss talking to you, alright?” Your brows furrowed in shock and anger, and you stood almost involuntarily.

“We didn’t have a fight,” you snapped. You crossed your arms in front of you. “You decided that you were seeing someone else. Why don’t you go bother her instead?” He tensed.

“Baby, she can’t compare to you.” His voice was oddly gentle, and it made you want to recoil. “I made an impulsive decision, but you’re the best I’ve ever had.”

You blinked in disbelief. This had to be some sort of sick joke, right? There was no way Mattheo was actually this stupid, arrogant, oblivious…

“Are you daft?” The words escaped your mouth before you could stop them, and you stared at him with wide eyes. “Genuinely, what is it like inside your head? You were snogging Turpin in the middle of the Great Hall yesterday.”

“I was trying to block out the pain of losing you!”

“Which was, for the record, entirely self-inflicted.”

“Please.” His eyes were wide, and it alarmed you how good he was at imitating sincerity. “If you want me to beg, I’ll beg. Please give me another chance.”

“You are with someone else.”

“Turpin knows it’s over,” he replied hastily. “I called it off last night.”

As his words sank in, you recalled what Tom had told you the previous night – they were getting far too intimate in the Slytherin common room when I left. Your blood boiled.

“You’re lying, Mattheo,” you snapped, your voice shaking in anger. “You’re lying to me! Again! I know exactly what you and Turpin were doing last night, and it wasn’t breaking up.” His eyes widened.

“Who – How…”

“Your brother,” you finished, crossing your arms as you smirked at him. “Who is sick and tired of hearing your PDA in the Slytherin common room while he’s trying to study, by the way.” Mattheo’s eyes darkened, glaring into yours.

“Why were you talking to – “

“Oh, get a grip.” Your lip curled in distaste. “Go pick someone else to bother, Riddle. I’m not in the mood.” He looked for a moment like he might say something, but then turned around and strode away. You sat back down at the table as Ernie and Hannah stared at you, eyes wide.

“Nice work,” Ernie finally said, blinking in surprise.

“Thank you!” you replied with a little shrug. “I thought so.”

You finished your food quickly, eager to get to History of Magic so that you could think about anything except how annoyed you were at Mattheo. Finally, you, Hannah, and Ernie were able to pack your things and leave the Great Hall. You were nagged by the slight feeling that you were forgetting something, but you were anxious enough to leave that you pushed it out of your mind.

“That was bizarre,” Hannah remarked, shaking her head as the three of you walked down the corridor. “I mean, if I was daft enough to lose you I’d beg for you to take me back too, but while he’s still snogging someone else? What exactly did he think was going to happen?”

“I’ve no idea,” you replied with a shrug. “I can’t believe I had to hear that with my own two ears. I’m half inclined to tell Turpin about the whole thing.”

“I feel like she ought to know,” Hannah agreed. “I’ll talk to her after Muggle Studies.”

As you walked, you stuck a hand in your bag to make sure you had all of your textbooks for the day. History of Magic, Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures… suddenly, your fingers touched an unfamiliar spine. Glancing down, you remembered the small black notebook that was tucked in between your supplies. “Shoot, I knew there was something I was forgetting.” You turned to Hannah, pulling the book out of your bag. “I forgot to give Tom back his planner, or whatever this thing is.”

“How’d you end up with Tom Riddle’s notebook?” Ernie asked, frowning. “He’s always writing in that thing when he leads Prefect meetings, I didn’t think he’d let it out of his sight.”

“I dunno, we ran into each other in the library. He left it on the table when he had to run off and deal with some Fanged Frisbee situation.”

“I heard about that!” he exclaimed. ��I was out on patrols on the other side of the castle, but Goldstein was there, and he said it was madness until Riddle showed up. Apparently he got rid of the thing in under two minutes!”

“Really?” You raised your eyebrows. “That’s impressive.” Hannah shot you a knowing look and you felt your cheeks turn pink.

“What a pair of brothers, huh?” Ernie chuckled to himself. “They’ve both got to have some sort of complex.”

You laughed. “Mattheo, I’ll agree with. Tom’s not so bad.”

“Did you see him during breakfast?” You shook your head and Ernie shuddered. “Dunno how you didn’t notice, he kept looking over at our table. He looked like he was ready to kill.”

Tom wasn’t at lunch or dinner. Ernie informed you that he’d seen him in the hall having some hushed conversation with Slughorn, and you wondered if their experiment had panned out. By evening, though, you were getting anxious to return the thing – you figured that if he kept it with him everywhere he went, he probably needed it. And as much as you were embarrassed to admit it to yourself, you liked the idea of having a reason to go see him. So as night fell, you ventured through the corridors and to the Slytherin common room, hoping that no one had changed the password since Mattheo had given it to you when the two of you were together.

“Vici,” you declared when you reached the hidden entrance, and to your relief, the door opened. Stepping through the wall, you glanced around the large, dimly-lit room, feeling quite out of your element indeed. The eerie green light of the Black Lake shone off the faces of those sitting in the common room, some of them turning around to glance at you in confusion as you strode past, your steps echoing off the stone floor. As you looked back at them, you felt suddenly self-conscious – you hadn’t stopped to think about just how strange it would seem for you to be here after your very public falling-out with one of the school’s most infamous Slytherins.

Tom was nowhere to be seen, and neither, thankfully, was Mattheo. However, you did spot a few of the sixth-year Slytherins that they typically hung around sitting in the corner by a large statue – Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Theo Nott, and Enzo Berkshire. As they turned to look at you, part of you wanted to run and hide, but you steeled yourself with a deep breath. You’re just returning a lost object to a friend, it’s no big deal, you reminded yourself as you approached.

“Um, hey guys,” you said, putting on what you hoped was a friendly smile. You directed your words mostly at Enzo – you’d always found him to be the least intimidating. “Does anyone know where Tom is? He left his little black notebook that he’s always carrying in the library last night and I know he must be anxious to get it back.” Pansy and Draco glanced at each other, her shooting him a look that you couldn’t decipher as Enzo grinned at you reassuringly.

“Yeah, sure thing,” he replied lightly. “He’s probably up in his dormitory. Do you know where the Head’s dormitory is in here?” You shook your head.

“Sorry.”

“No worries, you’re going to want to go two flights of stairs up from the sixth-year boys’ dormitory and it’s right there. It’s the only room on the level, you can’t miss it.”

“Amazing, thank you so much.” You waved politely at the group. “Good to see you all!” Enzo waved back, while the others acknowledged your departure with nods or less friendly stares. Letting out a breath of relief as you left, you strode toward the stairwell and climbed the numerous flights to the room that Enzo had informed you was Tom’s.

The level felt eerily isolated. As far as you knew, the castle spontaneously created and eliminated Head student dormitories based on which houses the Head students were in each year, and the level you were on certainly had an odd air to it, as if it didn’t quite belong with the other dormitories. While the doors to the sixth year boys’ dormitories had been perpetually open and the room had usually been full of students coming in and out, chatting loudly, this floor came abruptly to a stop before a singular, closed door. You were initially unnerved by the silence, but as you drew closer, the sound of harsh voices reached your ears.

You took pains to quiet your steps as you approached the door. Someone else was in Tom’s dormitory, and they weren’t having a friendly conversation. You wondered if the other person was Slughorn – had something gone bad during the experiment? But in the stillness, it became clear that the other party was much younger, the voice less weathered. It was one you knew well. The other person behind the door, you realized, was Mattheo.

You raised your fist to knock, but a sudden shout halted you. “I won’t tolerate this anymore!” The voice was sharp and cutting: Tom’s. You paused, not wanting to eavesdrop, but reluctant to interrupt as well.

“Tolerate what?” Mattheo demanded. His voice was slightly quieter, and it was more difficult to hear his words. “ – can’t let me have anything!”

“You disgrace our family name!” Tom roared, so ferocious that it made you jump in your skin. “You know the circumstances by which we live, that we have to work twice as hard as anyone else to gain respect because of the destruction our parents wrought!” His voice grew lower. “…us to have good things…opportunities…squander it all…” You involuntarily stepped closer to the door, but he began shouting again. “I stuck my neck out for you once and I’m not going to do it again!”

“I’m not asking you to do it again, you daft toerag!” Mattheo shot back. “—out of my business…Stop…deserving of everything!”

“...a person, not a thing, Mattheo,” Tom snarled. Your eyes widened and you felt yourself jolt slightly in surprise. “—can’t…pick up and put down…wouldn’t keep fueling your lies.”

“Oh, for Salazar’s sake, stop being so self-righteous!” A moment later, something smashed against the wall. “Guess what…chose me.” Your brows furrowed. Who were they talking about? The bits of conversation were so fragmented that it was difficult to tell.

“…this morning.”

“...would’ve done if you hadn’t gotten involved!”

“By sharing that you still had your tongue in Turpin’s mouth last night?” Tom loudly demanded. “Are you so…anyone telling the truth makes you angry?” Your mind began churning as you connected the dots. Mattheo had asked you to get back together with him that morning…but you’d said no because Tom had told you that he and Lisa were still together. That was what they were arguing about.

“I have every right to be angry!” Mattheo roared. You were barely standing close to the door, but his exclamations were plain to hear. “You don’t get to be some emotionless freak for seventeen years…decide that the one person that you want is someone who's mine!” Your breathing abruptly ceased as your heart pounded in your throat. You stared at the door in front of you in disbelief.

“...was never yours” The fury in Tom’s voice sent chills down your spine as he taunted his brother. “…perfectly clear on that…suited you…”

“You couldn’t have cared less what I did before!” Mattheo scoffed. “Now I have to listen to your harping every day…as if you care! …your reputation...just admit it!”

“That has nothing to do with this!”

“Right…don’t feel baser emotions.” Mattheo’s voice turned dark and faded into the distance.

The muffled conversation continued for some time. Then, there was a moment of silence, and footsteps began approaching. You panicked, looking for a place to hide. To your relief, you saw a large bookcase in the corner perpendicular to the dormitory and ducked into the shadows next to it.

“…end this way,” came Mattheo’s voice as the door opened.

“Leave.”

The threat in Tom’s voice was clear, and you shivered.

“...mine first, you know,” Mattheo said darkly, a hint of arrogance sneaking through in his voice as he stepped through the doorway. You longed to step out from behind the bookcase and smack him. “That will never change.”

“Leave!”

From the shadows, you saw Mattheo storm out, his footsteps echoing noisily down the otherwise silent hall. You held your breath, but to your relief he didn’t seem to suspect any other presence in the corridor, and quickly disappeared down the stairwell. You closed your eyes and let out a heavy breath. In the darkness, you could feel the tremor of your hands.

“Who’s out there?”

You barely managed to stifle your gasp of surprise as your eyes flew open. Tom was glancing around the corridor, wand in hand as he looked out the open door of his dormitory. How could he possibly know for sure that someone else was present? You stayed hidden.

“Who’s out there?”

His body tensed, his grip on his wand tightening. Nervously, you bit your lip and emerged from the shadows before you could think better of it. You prayed that it wasn’t too obvious how long you’d been there.

“Um, hi,” you squeaked, your voice cutting through the silence of the corridor.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, hi,” you repeated, your shaking hands struggling to pull the little black notebook from your bag. “Um, you left your planner in the library last night, and I figured you would want it, but I got a little…preoccupied…this morning, and then you weren’t around all day – Ernie told me that you were with Slughorn, by the way, congratulations, hope it went well – and I still knew the Slytherin password, so I came around, and, well, here.” You thrust the notebook out in front of you, clamping your mouth shut to stop yourself from rambling. “I figured you would want it.”

“I haven’t got a – oh, that.” Understanding took shape on his face as he saw the notebook. His features smoothed as he took it from you, trapping you in his piercing gaze. He stepped away from you and you wondered if he was just going to slip back into his room, but he paused. “It seems you are very nosy, darling.” You felt your face heat up.

“I didn’t look inside, if that’s what you’re wondering,” you assured him, your voice shaking slightly.

“Eavesdropping is never a good way to stay out of trouble,” he countered, looking back at you and raising his eyebrows slightly. You froze as he opened his bedroom door.

“Wait, Tom,” you called before you could stop yourself. He turned around you’re your nervousness seized you again, your stomach dropping. “I…” You took a deep breath, struggling for words. “You and Mattheo were arguing. Why?”

“That’s none of your business,” he replied, his voice as cold as ever.

“I know that it is.”

He stared at you in silence, and you felt a bolt of anxiety run through you. Maybe you’d misheard him somehow or misinterpreted the conversation. You began to panic, but stilled as he stepped closer to you.

“How much did you hear?” His tone was chilling.

“Enough,” you declared defiantly. “Enough to know that you were arguing about…about what you told me last night. And about me.” He rolled his eyes.

“This is ridiculous.” He stepped back. “I appreciate you returning my things, don’t bother me with this again.” As he turned to leave for the second time, you shook your head incredulously. How could this be over? All of your cards were out on the table already, you had nothing to lose.

“That’s a shame,” you said, forcefully enough to freeze him in his tracks. “Because…I would choose you, you know.”

Again, he said nothing, and again you felt panic rising in your chest as he stood with his back to you, unmoving. Fine, then, you’d said your peace. Turning on your heel, you decided that the best thing to do was cut your losses and leave. But as you stepped away, you felt a strong grip on your wrist pulling you back. Your skin tingled as he drew you back to him.

“Don’t play games with me, darling,” he murmured, a nearly imperceptible tremor in his own voice. “If all you want is to wind up my brother…”

“I couldn’t care less about that,” you replied, your heart pounding in your chest with a force you hadn’t even known was possible as you took a step towards him. “I’m not here to get under Mattheo’s skin, Tom. I can’t stop thinking about you. I want you.”

He held you in his gaze, the silence palpable. Then, suddenly, he was very close, and all you wanted was for him to be closer. He took your face in his hands and crashed his lips into yours.

You froze for a moment, then came to your senses and started to kiss him back, grabbing the collar of his shirt in your hands as you felt his arms snake around your waist, giving you chills. The kiss was slow and deliberate, spine-tingling, unlike anything you’d ever experienced. When the two of you finally broke apart you could feel yourself shaking, your knees weak.

“I’m sorry that I listened in.” Your voice faltered as you gazed up at him.

“I’m not.”

A wave of heat appeared in his eyes and you took the initiative this time, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. It was euphoric. His touches were slow and deliberate, as though he knew just how to take you apart piece by piece and he had every intention of doing so. Something in your body had craved the feeling of his hands on your skin since the first time you’d experienced it in the corridors, and you were finally able to indulge your addiction.

As he backed you into the cold stone wall of the corridor, his lips moved to the skin on your collarbone and you bit your lip hard in an effort to stifle the gasp that threatened to escape, remembering somewhere in the back of your mind that someone might hear you from down the stairs. He seemed to notice your hesitation and picked you up suddenly, bringing you to the other side of the doorway so that the two of you stood in his dormitory. For good measure, as he set you down, he gestured to the door beside him and it slammed closed, the air heavy with magic. You raised your eyebrows, wondering if some of the professors would even be capable of such a wordless, wandless spell.

“You know you can just close those with your hands, right?” You couldn’t resist the urge to tease him, recalling that fateful day in the library when you’d snapped your quill in half. Your spine tingled with anticipation as he narrowed his eyes at you, smirking.

“Salazar, you do have a smart mouth on you.” He backed you up against the wall, his voice low and hungry. “Who knew an angel could have such an attitude?”

“Yeah?” you retorted, your eyes sparkling mischievously. “Shut me up, then.”

He captured your lips in another mind-blowing kiss and your mind went blank as you let his touch intoxicate you. It was right, it was perfect, it was everything you wanted. You felt like you’d finally found your way home after a long wander in the dark.

“With pleasure, my darling.”

As the sun rose in the sky the next morning, you glanced into the Great Hall through the entryway, eyeing the calm and sleepy students who ate their breakfast amidst quiet conversation. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, and the scene looked utterly serene. You glanced up at Tom, who was already watching you with the slightest hint of a smile on his face. His arm was wrapped around your waist protectively, assuring you of his presence beside you.

“Ready to go shake things up a bit?” you asked, giggling softly.

“Maybe it’ll give the children enough to chatter about that they don’t go releasing feral frisbees in the Owlery.”

“Unlikely.” You grinned up at him. “But it’s worth a shot.”

“Indeed.” He absentmindedly ran his fingers through the ends of your hair as you took a deep breath. “Are you certain that you’re ready?” You shrugged.

“Oh, I figure that we’ll scandalize the school for a few days, and then someone will score a really great goal in Quidditch or drink too much Firewhiskey at a party and everyone will have something else to talk about. I’m not worried.” Then your brow furrowed. “What about you and Mattheo? Are you two going to be okay?” Tom glanced at you calmly.

“Family troubles are inherent to carrying the surname Riddle.” His thumb stroked your hip softly. “It won’t be the end of us.”

You nodded, taking in the silence for one final moment.

“Alright. I’m ready.”

His arm rested on your hip, holding you close, as the two of you stepped into the Great Hall together.

#tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x reader insert #tom riddle #tom riddle fic #ooc tom riddle #slytherin boys #slytherin x reader #slytherin boys fic #slytherin #hogwarts #mattheo riddle #theo nott #lorenzo berkshire #blaise zabini #draco malfoy #pansy parkinson

45 notes · View notes

aurianavaloria · 1 day

Text

KoH - What Good May Come (Baldwin IV x Reader)

Fandom: Kingdom of Heaven

Pairing: Baldwin IV x Fem!Reader

PoV: Mixed/Split (Tiberias - Fem!Reader - Baldwin)

Length: Long (8k+ words! 😬)

TW: Vague mentions of disfigurement/leprosy

A/N: FINALLY, I've finished the Y/N fic that was voted on so long ago in this poll. Since the results were fairly close, I simply eliminated the least-voted option and went with a combination of the rest. 😁I've tried my best to keep Y/N truly generic, although she is female; in all other ways, though, it was my hope to make her vague enough that readers could envision whomever they liked in whatever universe/version of the story they wished. Backstory and circumstances are also left as vague as possible. As far as personality, I tried to go with what seemed most popular in general, again in an attempt to appeal to the widest audience. I sincerely hope you enjoy, and thank you all for being awesome! 🤗

================================================

“She adores you, you know.”

It was these words from Tiberias that broke the silence between king and vassal – a companionable one… one born from years of acquaintanceship that had seen both parties through their fair share of strife and misunderstandings. A type of camaraderie perhaps only two leaders in their position could comprehend and be satisfied with.

The Count of Tripoli watched as his liege-lord’s attention was drawn from the bright Jerusalem outdoors into which he was all but forbidden to emerge. Watched as eyes as blue as the sky Tiberias knew was above drifted to his own. One was clouded, now – a sign of impending blindness. But Tiberias remembered well when both possessed such a clear and sharp forget-me-not stare, bidding all who beheld their gaze to indeed forget them not…

“I beg your pardon, Raymond,” the king replied, the silver mask he wore slightly muffling carefully-chosen words, smooth as the waters of the Jordan. “My thoughts have wandered, as they often do these days, and I am uncertain as to whom you refer.”

The smallest of laughs escaped Tiberias’s lips as they briefly twisted into a half-smile – a response to His Majesty that perhaps only he could get away with. He swirled what remained of the deep claret wine in his goblet, leveling his gaze at the king over the rim; the Count had known his lord since before he had come of age, and no amount of masks could cover the fact that Baldwin IV of Jerusalem was always aware of more than he pretended.

“Forgive me for my lack of clarity, my lord,” Raymond answered wryly. “I speak of Lady Y/N.”

“Ah, yes.”

Baldwin’s response was accompanied by the slightest nod, silver shimmering with the movement as it caught a sunray. His eyes fell to the chess pieces that functioned not as part of an actual match between them, but merely an occupation for restless hands. Particularly the king’s. Gloved in white, one of those half-numb hands still somehow moved with grace, a slender finger perched atop the head of a knight, resting upon the carved arch of the stallion’s mane.

Tiberias noted the short answer, half-sighed. No doubt His Majesty’s thoughts continued where his lips dared not to go, if the Count knew him as well as he thought he did…

“She speaks of you fondly and often,” Raymond added, sipping of the wine. “I believe she is single-handedly determined to bring your presence back into court by mention of your name and titles alone.”

White fingers released the knight. “The court is far too vicious a place for as good a soul as hers,” Baldwin said at length, sitting back in his chair, another sigh escaping him like the hiss of steam behind his mask as he glanced away. “Lately, I have been thinking of what to do with her. It is increasingly obvious there is no place for her here. Not amongst these vultures.”

“Oh?” Tiberias’s brows arched high. “Isn’t there?”

“No. There is not.”

At that, the Count’s lips pressed together as he leaned forward, setting his goblet on the chess table and folding his hands in his lap. “My lord, surely you aren’t thinking of sending her away. Not from here, where she has found joy despite everything.” He caught his liege’s gaze as it returned to him, adding pointedly, “Where you have found it.”

“My joy is irrelevant,” Baldwin replied flatly. “And as for hers...” he paused, and Raymond could see the king’s throat bob past his bandages. “It will not persist. It is best she seek it elsewhere, before that which she has found here meets its inevitable end.”

The corner of the Count’s mouth twitched. “You, or Jerusalem?”

“I am Jerusalem,” the king answered simply.

Tiberias glanced away, closing his eyes for a moment as silence stretched between them. The Count in him knew that Baldwin was, in a way, correct. Disaster loomed on the horizon – a kind of calamity from which they might not return, and it would most assuredly begin with His Majesty’s death. If the physicians were right and not being overly generous in their assessment, then the king had less than a decade left in his short life. And imbeciles like Guy de Lusignan seemed determined to shorten it further. Yes, she would be safer – and perhaps happier in the long term – elsewhere…

Yet there was something so terribly tragic about it all that Tiberias couldn’t help but feel sympathy grow in his heart for the boy. Yes boy. He hadn’t even had the chance to grow a man’s whiskers on his cheeks before that damned disease had twisted his face almost beyond recognition. And Tiberias had seen it all. Even through the at-times frustrating trials of Baldwin’s kingship, the Count of Tripoli had watched as the golden-haired warrior of sixteen years had wasted away into this silver-faced specter that had become far too wise, far too young…

…but he had also watched those specter’s eyes glow with a long-absent light the moment Y/N had stood before him. For a fleeting instant, he had once again seen the eyes of a younger king, reminiscent of past joys and glorious victories.

Baldwin would extinguish that light in an instant for her sake, romantic fool that he was. Or perhaps it was Raymond himself who was the fool, as he thought of Y/N and how she, too, had been drawn to the king the moment they’d met. How such a precious creature, so rare upon this Earth, had fallen into such a deadly trap… and now it seemed, like a snared rabbit, her only option was to chew off her own limb before the hunter found her.

How to rescue them both from such a fate?

“The girl is in love with you, my lord,” he began after a moment, his voice a growling murmur. “To send her away would break her heart. It would destroy her.” He shook his head, meeting the king’s stare with his own. “As it would you, and you know it.”

“What would you have me do, Tiberias?” Baldwin asked, Raymond’s more familiar moniker finally coming out now that the Count’s words had pierced past the royal façade. “To let her stay will cause her only despair, and that will destroy the both of us as well. And I cannot be that selfish to such a benevolent soul.” Tiberias heard a long exhale behind the mask as the king cast his eyes to the ceiling, as if searching for answers amongst the lofty vaults. “Were it not for this disease I would ask her father for her hand and devote my life to her as her husband before the altar of God. But I am a leper, and I am forbidden that.” The pale gaze that returned to the Count’s was a haunting one now, as if all the ghosts of Purgatory screamed through it for salvation. A mirthless laugh followed, a dark sound born of darker thoughts. “It seems I can do nothing else but waste away before her very eyes. So tell me, my wise vassal – if I cannot protect her from what is to come, what is it that I can do?”

A flicker of a smile crossed Tiberias’s lips. “Love her, my lord. As I know you already do.” He paused, propping his elbows on the table and rubbing his sword-calloused hands together as he thought.

“It’s the whole reason for your self-flagellation, is it not?” he continued after a moment. “This talk of sending Y/N out of Jerusalem – your crown tells you one thing, but your heart tells you another, and for the first time you want to toss the crown by the wayside, and that makes you fear you are an incompetent king. So you pick up the crown again in hopes it will crush the heart, and perhaps the love along with it.”

Another sigh, the lids of the king’s eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “I only wish to do what is right, Tiberias. It is what I have striven for my entire life, and I will not abandon such principles now. If it means my own suffering, so be it. And as for her,” his eyes opened once more, latching to Raymond’s, “tell me what good may come from the love of a leper.”

This time, it was the Count who sighed, sitting back in his chair. “Peace. Mercy. Comfort. Everything you have brought to this kingdom.” He crossed an ankle over his knee, peaking his fingers. “You cannot know that a little cruelty now will not hurt her any less than what will come later. But you do know that loving her can only bring happiness to you both in the present moment – and that is what she lives for. Not the future.” He cocked his head at the king. “There is nothing wicked in what she desires. Nor in what you wish for her. The both of you want nothing more than the other’s well-being. How can that be anything but right?”

Raymond saw Baldwin’s throat bob again, the mask shimmering in the sunlight as he shifted in his seat, first looking down towards the floor, then back to the illuminated arcade.

“How shall I court her, then?” he inquired at length, his voice softer, cynicism at last yielding to tender warmth. “How to show her this affection of mine without forever staining her honor?”

Tiberias’s jaw worked as he thought for a few moments in silence. “If you wish to be discreet, my lord, I believe I may assist in this matter.”

It was then, as Baldwin returned his attention to the Count, that the latter saw a glimpse of boyish mischief sparkling in his liege’s eye. “I would trust no other to the task.”

================

“My lady, a courier flagged me down today and told me to give you this.”

Your lady-in-waiting approached, holding out a small wrapped parcel.

“What is it?” you asked, interest piqued.

The handmaid shook her head. “I have no idea, my lady. The courier didn’t say.”

You felt your brow furrow as you took the parcel in hand. The fabric was fine, but not terribly so – a soft cream color, tied with a simple yellow ribbon.

“Hmm. I wonder who it is from.”

“He didn’t say that, either,” your companion commented.

Curiosity mounting by the second, you decided to succumb to the impulse to open the parcel, tugging at the ribbon. Casting it aside, you pulled back the corners of the fabric to reveal a folded piece of parchment, within which had been tucked something slightly weighty…

Merely tilting the parchment to the side let the object slide free into your waiting palm, and you couldn’t stifle the gasp that escaped you. There, in your hand, lay a lovely brooch, sparkling in the sunlight that streamed in from your window. A small disk of gold, swirling floral patterns weaved across its surface and wound about its edge like vines of roses. At its center was set a sapphire cabochon, polished and glimmering, and from its bottom edge hung a single creamy white pearl, like a teardrop in shape.

“Oh, it’s beautiful!”

The words came from your lady-in-waiting; you were too busy still holding your breath as you took in the details of this exquisite piece. You ran a finger over the filigree and atop the smooth stone in wonder. Who could have possibly gifted you something so beautiful and why?

As if reading your mind, your fellow courtier prompted, “Maybe the parchment says who it’s from.”

Finally remembering to breathe, you nodded, carefully unfolding the small piece of vellum to see a tight, neat script, punctuated with neither signature nor seal:

You will never know how much light you bring into the lives of others. It is my only hope that this small token of my regard brings a measure of light into yours.

This time, it was both you and your handmaiden who gasped in unison, barely stifling squeaks of girlish delight as you exchanged looks with one another.

“You, my lady, have an admirer!”

In awe, you stared at the parchment, reading the words over and over again. But who could have possibly written them?

“So it seems,” you replied at length, running a thumb across the surface of the brooch.

“Well,” your comrade continued, straightening and putting her hands on her hips, “that will give you plenty to talk about at the feast tonight.”

Your brow furrowed. “Feast?”

She nodded with a grin. “Yes, feast! Princess Sibylla arranged it. Perhaps you’ll find your mysterious admirer amongst the guests there, hmm?”

At that, you could only blink for a moment, your thoughts a whirlwind in your mind. Of all the things to find in Jerusalem, you hadn’t quite expected an admirer to be one of them…

“I’m not sure whether to be frightened or excited by the prospects,” you finally replied honestly, a nervous chuckle following your words.

“Oh, lady,” your handmaid admonished, swatting a hand playfully at your shoulder. “It will be quite fun, I’m sure. The princess’s functions are always lighthearted affairs, or so I hear. I imagine there will be dancing and merry music aplenty. Just plan to enjoy yourself, and if something – or someone – intriguing comes along…” she trailed and winked.

You tried to fight the blush that sprang to your cheeks, but to no avail, leading your handmaid to laugh heartily. “Ah, my lady. By your leave, I must see to a few things before evening falls, but I will return to help you get ready.”

You couldn’t help but smile back, giving a nod of assent. “Of course.”

With that, the lady-in-waiting dipped into a polite curtsey and left, closing your chamber door gently behind her and leaving you to your increasingly-anxious thoughts. Your attention returned to the parchment and brooch – both were fine indeed, indicating that, whoever your admirer was, they were certainly someone of status. Yet there was a certain practicality to both; the author’s penmanship was practiced and elegant, but not overstated, and the brooch itself was obviously expensive, but neither was it overly extravagant.

It was also a rather fitting gift, considering you had only just lost your old one on the way to Jerusalem…

And then it hit you.

It can’t be…

Your heart began to beat harder in your chest as it all came to you in a rush. Yes, you’d lost your beloved brooch on the long journey to Jerusalem – one of your last remaining ties to your homeland. A silly thing to get upset about, you told yourself later on, and yet the loss of it affected you even after your arrival at court. Nevertheless, no one up until that point knew besides your lady-in-waiting. And there was only one Jerusalemite native to whom you had confided that little detail.

The king.

Your mouth ran dry as you remembered the instance as clearly as if it had been yesterday. It was only your third day at the palace, and you’d yet to become accustomed to its maze-like halls. Couple that with your fascination with the local architecture, and that led you to places, in hindsight, you probably ought not have tread. Yet no one stopped you, even as the number of palace guests thinned and you emerged upon a quiet, sunlit terrace…

…only to run right into a tall man in white.

It hadn’t taken you long to figure out that you’d plowed headlong into the king himself – quite embarrassing that. In fact, you were so mortified that you were sure you would die of it on the spot, even as you apologized profusely with the deepest curtsey you could manage on weak legs.

To your surprise, however, not even the slightest admonishment came from him. Instead, he chuckled, the sound muffled by the mask he wore. That caused you to look up, still frozen in your curtsey, and that was when you saw the bluest eyes you’d ever seen in your life looking back at you, their squinted corners evidence of a smile behind the almost-angelic visage of silver.

You smiled back nervously, at which point he bid you to rise, assuring you that you had done nothing wrong. An awkward introduction followed, during which you admitted that curiosity had gotten the better of you, and you praised the well-kept grounds and the lovely accommodations you’d been given…

As it so happened, however, he already knew precisely who you were from your name alone – where you were from and why you’d come to Jerusalem. Whether he had gleaned this information from spies or the rumor mill of the court, you weren’t certain, but the more he spoke, the more difficult it became to keep the flabbergasted look off your face. And along with that astonishment came the slightest bit of fear – if he knew this much about you, how much did everyone else know?

Despite your best efforts, though, you must have been unable to keep your face expressionless, as that was when he had invited you to his chambers to speak further in private.

To say you were surprised by such an offer was something of an understatement; it was the last thing you expected to hear after what had just transpired between you, especially from a king to a freshly-acquainted subject. And yet you found yourself quite unable to decline even out of modesty. For one thing, declining the offer of a king seemed most imprudent, and for another…

…well, you were actually rather curious about His Majesty, unwilling to end the encounter just yet.

So you followed him, marveling at him all the while. You knew he was a leper – that was something you’d been informed of before you’d departed for the Holy City – but that didn’t frighten you. You had seen lepers where you were from, and they hadn’t frightened you, either. You also knew the mask was meant to hide the deformities beneath. In fact, it was the presence of that mask that had led you to guess the identity of its owner before it was ever confirmed by his lips – it was a symbol as powerful as a crown. None of that was what had drawn your curiosity; you were motivated neither by morbid fascination nor a sense of pity.

No, it was his astonishingly-welcoming demeanor that had you almost spellbound. The easy willingness to listen and to forgive. The quiet, yet poised decorum. You’d known men and women alike with rank much lesser than his who possessed a cold and domineering manner that was immediately off-putting to almost everyone around them. Yet here was the king of this realm, conversing politely with a lady who had merely lost her way.

Already you had learned volumes about his character, and he’d barely spoken at all.

He had posted guards, you noted, but they kept their eyes straight ahead as you passed them, following King Baldwin into his private quarters. It was a mighty struggle, but you managed to resist the urge to succumb to the eye-wandering that had gotten you into this situation to begin with. Instead, with the same discipline of his guardsmen, you glued your gaze to his back, occupying yourself by mentally tracing the subtle patterns in his coat of white damask silk.

Ultimately, he offered you a seat, and as you accepted with another curtsey, he sat himself a respectable distance away, only the slightest stiffness of his limbs betraying his condition as he settled into the chair opposite you. In fact, you could imagine he occupied his throne in much the same manner as he leaned back, both white-gloved hands curving over the ends of its arms. A servant, unbidden, came forth out of the shadows with a fresh cup of wine, which you took with a polite nod. The man then retreated as quietly as he had arrived, disappearing beyond sheer curtains of pale fabric.

And then, you talked.

It was mostly he who asked the questions, and you answered them as best as you were able; you weren’t brave enough to ask him much of anything, and so you settled for what small bits of information he voluntarily divulged over the course of your conversation. All in all, it was a relatively light discussion. He mostly inquired about your homeland and of your journey – of whether you had experienced any hardships or had witnessed anything of interest on your way to the Holy City, and if you had troubles acclimating to Jerusalem. It was during this exchange that you revealed the caravan’s run-in with thieves… how they had stolen what small bit of jewelry you possessed, sneaking in and out of the tents of the pilgrims and vanishing into the desert night before anyone could catch them.

You only offhandedly mentioned the brooch as the one piece you had any sentimental attachment to. In all honesty, you weren’t even sure if he had been listening at that point, as he had closed his eyes for a long time. You thought perhaps he might even have fallen asleep for a moment; if so, you couldn’t blame him, as you knew his condition was exhausting – you couldn’t imagine dealing with it on top of everything else expected of a king.

It was also quite possible that you were boring the poor man out of his mind with your lengthy and rambling answers, and he was simply too polite to cut you off.

Yet if what your gut was telling you was right, then he had indeed been listening, and far more closely than you could ever have realized…

You hadn’t known, however, at the time. Instead, you’d felt increasingly self-conscious as his eyes opened again, their gaze meeting yours with a piercing stare. Truly, it was as if he was looking through you rather than at you as you turned the conversation to lighter matters – mostly all the wonderful sights you’d seen since arriving in the Holy Land, especially Jerusalem itself. Your observations seemed to please him, and he voiced his gladness that you were, for the most part, enjoying yourself. You’d thanked him for his hospitality, and it wasn’t long after that the discussion ended, king and subject cordially parting ways with nod and curtsey.

Little did you know that one meeting would soon turn into two. Then three. Then more.

Somehow, a few days after your unexpected first encounter, you ran into him again in the garden – though, thankfully, not literally this time. After exchanging a few pleasantries, he once more invited you to further conversation in private, and again you accepted. This time, he inquired if you knew the game of chess, and to your surprise (and secret amusement) he appeared rather pleased when you affirmed that you did. He then promptly challenged you to a match, to which you heartily agreed. Yet even though you were handily beaten, it was an enjoyable game, and you found yourself acquiescing to a future rematch.

It wasn’t long before these games became almost a routine part of your afternoon, save for the days when His Majesty was busy with his council or holding court. And it was during the course of these games that you realized just how lonely he must have been. For the more games you shared, the fewer of them were seen to completion; far more time was spent talking with the board sitting untouched between you than it was actually playing.

He never kept you longer than you desired to stay, and certainly never more than was appropriate for an unmarried lady such as yourself. In fact, he seemed to leave the coming and going mostly to you. Yet you didn’t fail to notice the way his eyes lit up when he saw you, their corners crinkling with a smile you couldn’t otherwise see. It broke your heart that he spent so much of his days, outside his duties, in near-isolation, when he was such a thoughtful, inquisitive, and intelligent soul… such a joy to converse with. And so you’d been sure to praise these qualities amongst your fellow courtiers whenever the chance arose…

It had only just occurred to you in the middle of a recent sleepless night that the reasons behind your persistent compliments might have run a bit deeper than the simple desire to keep his spirit alive in the court he barely saw.

You couldn’t deny the way your heart sped up when your eyes met – those eyes that you couldn’t quite decide were more like the sea or the sky. And it wasn’t just the content of his speech you enjoyed, but the way he delivered it… with a voice that was so easy to listen to for hours on end, so reflective of his serene and introspective nature.

And then there were the times, when he accidentally fumbled the pieces, that your fingers and his gloved ones nearly touched. When you both reached for the fallen pawn only for one of you to swiftly withdraw, each time followed by a soft chuckle. But you couldn’t ignore the sensation that charged the atmosphere, like the feeling that permeated the air just before a storm, and your heartbeat was the warning thunder in your ears…

You shook your head, your thoughts returning to the present as you rubbed your thumb over the brooch’s smooth gem. It was then that the tiniest doubt began to tickle and nag at the back of your mind. What if it wasn’t him at all? What if it was merely a coincidence? Something your heart foolishly yearned for, but that your mind knew well would never happen?

A frown pulled at your lips. Baldwin had proven to be someone to whom you could speak about almost anything without fear of reprisal. Nothing you had confided in him had ever escaped the bounds of his chamber – and there was plenty you had discussed, especially lately. Even if he hadn’t sent this jewel, you could trust him to advise you with wisdom. And despite his relative absence from court, there was no one who knew its members better…

By the time your handmaid returned to help you prepare for the evening, you’d made up your mind.

“I shall wear the blue bliaut tonight. To match this lovely brooch.”

================

Even past the bandages of thin linen and the silken veil covering his ears, Baldwin could still hear the distant strains of music floating through the palace’s long and lonely corridors… the latest in Sibylla’s efforts to keep the place lively even as its king slowly wasted away, out of sight and out of mind.

He could have made a surprise appearance, he supposed. He did that on occasion, whenever he felt particularly energetic, much to his physicians’ chagrin. It was mildly intriguing to see what kind of looks he would receive and from whom– though by this point, those expressions and their bearers had become almost boringly predictable. Fear and awe were ever present, manifesting in the form of slackened jaws and widened eyes and hushed whispers behind hands and veils. Rarer looks of disgust and revulsion were always quickly covered by feigned indifference. Then there were those especially-bold souls who dared to reveal their open contempt in their thinned lips and narrowed eyes.

It was pity, however, that he despised the most.

Dread, loathing, hatred – these were all traits with which any monarch could be clothed whether they wished to or not. Such was the burden of leadership. But pity…

Pity was a mantle that was distinctly his to wear.

Every time he saw it in the faces of those who looked upon him, he was reminded that his crown was secondary to his condition. That they saw the Leper before they saw the King. It was not that he lacked appreciation for those who truly worried for his health and his well-being, but in their eyes he saw reflected back at him what he tried desperately to ignore from the moment his physicians departed in the morning until they returned at night to dress his wounds.

The corner of his mouth twitched beneath his mask, and his quill stilled, poised for a moment in the one hand of his that still had life in it before he reached to return the pen to its stand.

Lady Y/N had never looked at him that way.

Sitting back in his chair, he wondered if she was enjoying herself this night. If Sibylla was hosting her well. He hoped that she was, and that his sister had not overwhelmed the poor girl with her almost shamefully lavish tastes. It was evident that Y/N was quite unused to Jerusalem’s abundance in almost every respect; those first few days after her arrival at court, her wide-eyed wonder had rendered her speechless on more than one occasion, or so he’d heard.

A light hum escaped him at the memory of their first meeting. It seemed as though it was forever ago, and yet, at the same time, it felt as if it were only yesterday.

She had been rather distracted, he recalled… so distracted, in fact, that she hadn’t seen him in the corridors, watching as she’d unwittingly wandered into the realm of the royal apartments. With great accuracy, he’d anticipated the trajectory of her meandering steps, and he purposefully made to intercept her before she breached the threshold of what the guards deemed acceptable, even for a lost lady.

Baldwin wasn’t quite as quick as he used to be, though, in part due to that damned dragging foot of his, and he’d neglected to account for his reduction in speed, resulting in an unfortunate collision on the terrace above the gardens.

Or perhaps, he thought in hindsight, it was fortunate after all…

He’d heard enough from his informants to guess who she was. Tiberias and others amongst his court might have suspected she was an assassin simply playing the part of a lost newcomer, and he had to admit that the thought had crossed his own mind, if briefly; in a world such as theirs, it was difficult to imagine anyone without some kind of ulterior motive. Yet it soon became apparent that she was as innocent as the day was long – if there was anything his disease had given him, it was experience reading tone and body language, and he wasn’t certain the best actress in the world could have feigned her level of self-conscious nervousness.

No, Y/N was simply curious and lost. And from what those same informants had told him, she was in desperate need of someone local she could trust. Though evidently satisfied with her new home in every other way, she had been slow to acclimate to the social environment of the court, preferring to keep to herself whenever possible. From this, he suspected her need to get away from the appraising gazes of total strangers was what had initially propelled her away from the great hall, and her natural inquisitiveness had continued to pull her into the quieter depths of the palace.

But the faint smile she’d worn and the sparkle in her eyes had been replaced with fear the instant she realized who she’d run into, and the stuttering apology and low curtsey she’d given him betrayed her anticipation of reprimand.

That was something he’d had to correct, and quickly.

In the moments that followed, he’d gauged it most appropriate for them to smooth over this encounter by getting to know each other better, and thus he’d invited her to do just that in the privacy of his quarters, where they would face little chance of interruption.

As he’d hoped, she’d accepted. And it was this first conversation of theirs that had led him to believe that Lady Y/N was terribly lonely.

Her chatter was slightly nervous and yet, at the same time, somewhat eager. There was little doubt that he’d learned far more about her than she had about him; with but a little coaxing, he had discovered much about her circumstances and about what plagued her. It had displeased him greatly to hear about the thieves that had raided her entourage’s tents on the way to the Holy City, and it irked him even more that she’d lost a treasured possession because of it. Her journey had already been a long and arduous one – had that not been enough?

Y/N put up a rather convincing façade of indifference on the matter, but when he focused on her voice alone, he heard her pain. No, she was no actress, he concluded.

He also hadn’t failed to notice her willingness to make eye contact with him… to look him full in the face and speak freely with every question he asked; she dodged neither query nor gaze. Outside her initial fright on the balcony, she displayed few other signs of trepidation regarding his presence. In fact, it seemed as though she’d just been waiting for someone with whom she could share her thoughts and feelings – as if she’d bottled up everything he’d asked about since arriving in Jerusalem and finally found someone willing to listen.

Had she truly felt so comfortable with him already, or was she simply a trusting soul? He was unaccustomed to both, and it was… refreshing.

His instincts warned him that the jackals of the court would surely eat her alive, and he feared what their viciousness might do to her. What kind of slander and gossip would come from what had been innocent curiosity on her part. How much her character would be maligned for sport. The very thought of it being a possibility made his blood boil.

Over the course of their subsequent conversations, however, he was forced to rethink that initial assumption. Kind-hearted she was, and still too good for the likes of her peers, but she could hold her own among them better than he had anticipated; a few casual inquiries over a few chess matches revealed that much. She saw, heard, and understood far more than her outward appearance would suggest. Behind that warm, gentle, and charmingly-inquisitive exterior was a clever and tenacious woman whom he found to be utterly captivating. No matter the storm around her, she always projected an air of geniality and good cheer, evidently determined not to let this unsettled world tear her down.

In short, the court didn’t deserve her.

He didn’t deserve her.

She never asked him for anything, and likewise she didn’t press questions upon him about his condition. Whenever they passed time together, he felt like neither king nor leper, but like an ordinary man. In her sparkling eyes and healing presence, he saw not pity, but life. A normal life for once. One where he did not have to dread what the next morning might bring.

Alas, that glorious feeling of contentment left him with her every departure.

The sound of exuberant cheers down the corridor pulled him from his musings, and he found himself back in the relative darkness of his chambers, watching the candle’s flame flicker upon his desk. He wondered which dance it was they’d just finished, imagining Y/N in his mind’s eye moving as hypnotically as that very flame. If she danced as beautifully as he envisioned, she would have the whole court entranced…

“Sire, you have a request for an audience.”

The guard called from the entrance to his quarters.

“Who is it?” he asked, hope, dread, and fear all churning in his stomach in a toxic maelstrom. He hadn’t the patience or the energy to deal with most petitioners this night, other than-

“Lady Y/N.”

His eyes widened.

That was quick.

Hope surged forth at the mention of her name, but neither dread nor fear was eliminated by this revelation. Not completely. He had a feeling the gifting of the brooch he’d commissioned would bring her to him sooner or later, but he hadn’t anticipated it being that very day, and especially not with the festivities Sibylla had planned…

Perhaps it is not that, he reminded himself solemnly, but something else altogether.

“I will see her,” he called back at last. “Let her pass.”

There were precious few seconds for him to compose himself before he saw her, at first a shadow at the entrance to his chambers, and then illuminated by lamp and candlelight as she cautiously strode forth. His breath caught in his lungs at the sight of her, her eyes glittering like stars from all those dancing fires. She wore the most beautiful court dress he’d ever seen her in – a sapphire-blue silk bliaut, laced tight at the sides to flatter her form, seemingly a thousand shimmering pleats flowing from her hips to the floor. At her waist had been tied a fabric belt of lighter blue, embroidered in gold, double-wrapped about her body and knotted in front in Frankish style. Her belled sleeves, with their golden trim, allowed only a glimpse of her stark white chemise beneath, and there, upon that same trim that adorned the dress’s wide neckline, had been pinned the brooch, pulling the dipping V above her heart into an elegant keyhole.

“Your Majesty,” she greeted him with a curtsey, offering a smile that shot straight to his heart. “I hope I haven’t come at an inopportune time.”

“Not at all,” he gestured for her to rise, turning in his seat to fully face her, “although I would have expected you to be at my sister’s gathering.”

Another smile. “I was, in fact. Alas, I felt the need to speak with you on a matter of great import. I hope Her Highness can forgive me for my early departure.”

The king nodded once. “I am all but certain she will. I am, however, glad you were at least able to make an appearance,” he remarked as he slowly rose from his chair, stifling a groan that threatened to escape him from his aching limbs. Then, pausing, he tilted his head as he allowed himself to take in her attire once more. “You look lovely. It would have been a shame to have wasted such beauty on my poor eyes alone; better indeed that you allowed others with keener sight the chance to appreciate your taste and talents before slipping away to these dark and distant halls.”

Even in the low candlelight, he could see her cheeks flush, and as her gaze briefly flicked away from his, he felt his twisted lips pull into an unseen smile.

“You are too kind, my lord,” she replied. “In truth, I found myself… inspired… by this new jewel I received just this afternoon.” Her fingers drifted to that very piece, pinned above her heart, and Baldwin forced himself to school his gaze… to pretend he hadn’t been the one to write up the specifics of its creation for the royal jeweler… that he hadn’t entrusted it to Tiberias to give to a capable courier… that he hadn’t prayed to God he hadn’t made an irreversible mistake by daring to tread on this unknown path.

“Do you like it?” she asked suddenly, her eyes meeting his. “Believe it or not, it is, in fact, the subject of my concern.”

Something in both her gaze and her tone told him she’d made the assumption he wished. Good. He had no desire to drag this out; indeed, hadn’t the time for it. And now that she was here, following the lead he’d purposefully fashioned, his only task was to find out if Tiberias was truly right about her and her feelings…

Swallowing back where his heart had gathered in his throat, he replied coolly, “Yes, it suits you. Although, I am uncertain as to why you would approach me for such an opinion,” he added with a chuckle, slightly bemused at the way she was choosing to approach this mystery. Indicating the chess table where they’d held so many conversations of late, he beckoned, “Come. Sit.”

Wordlessly, she acquiesced, dipping her head before moving to take her usual place, as he did his.

“I…” she began after a moment, her stare focused on one of the pieces as he settled himself opposite her. “Well, the truth is, I was hoping I could ask you for advice in a matter related to it. Regarding the one who sent it to me, in fact.”

“Yes?” he prompted as he watched her. Time to confirm that assumption.

“Well, you see… I don’t really know who sent it…”

His eyes met hers, squinting a little. “You don’t?” he asked, keeping the skepticism from his tone as he began to pull her thoughts from her.

“No.” She shook her head. “There was no name on the note that accompanied it, so I cannot know for certain who might have sent it. But,” yet another smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, her eyes sparkling again as she leaned forth and propped her elbows on the edge of the table, “I do have an idea, and I was hoping perhaps I might pass my thoughts by you. You know a great many in your court, after all. Perhaps you could confirm or deny my suspicions?”

Oh yes, she knew. He knew she knew. And now she played with him as much as he with her, both seeking confession…

“Perhaps I could,” he answered musingly. “What are your thoughts, then, Lady Y/N?”

“Well,” she began, dropping her gaze to the pieces once more, her fingertips toying with the white king, “I was just thinking of how appropriate such a gift was. Indeed, the person who sent it must know me rather well. It appeals so much to my tastes and is so fitting given recent events.”

His heart felt like it was about to beat itself out of his chest. “How fortuitous.”

“My thoughts precisely,” she agreed, glancing up at him. “And of those whom I’ve spent the most time with, there are few who would know me in such a manner.”

“Truly?”

“Truly.”

She paused, and he felt her eyes studying him intensely. “In fact, there is only one man who would have known just how fortuitous it was. Only one who would have known I would have need of such a piece. Now,” she leaned back a little, offering him a pointed look, “I do realize that brooches are popular as courting gifts,” she paused, her gaze latching to his, “but even so, I find the choice rather… convenient. Don’t you, my lord?”

“Yes,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I understand your meaning.”

Deafening silence stretched between them during which neither of them moved.

“Only one man,” she repeated, her own voice having gone quiet, and Baldwin saw her eyes glimmer in the lamplight. Before he could even open his mouth to offer another comment, she leaned forward again, her gaze burning a hole through him. “Only one man who bothered to know me. To know my heart. To care for me and my life enough to remember what I held dear.” He saw her swallow heavily. “You, my king. You sent it to me, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” he breathed, nodding once in affirmation.

“Do you mean it?”

Her question was barely a whisper, yet Baldwin felt it in his heart – a probing inquiry seeking out the truth of his intentions.

His blood was rushing in his ears. “Every word, written and unwritten.”

And with that final admission everything was confirmed on his part. But as for hers…

The tears were obvious in her eyes now, pooling at the edges of her lashes. In that moment, he was sure he understood how the condemned felt just before the stroke of the headsman’s axe, before the tightening of the hangman’s noose. What would her answer be, then? He knew in his heart it would be better for her to simply walk away. But would she? Would she willingly doom herself to heartbreak?

At last Y/N spoke once more, her voice a tremulous whisper, and he hung upon every word as though his very life depended on it.

“I know this cannot be a courtship in the traditional sense,” she began softly, her liquid stare never leaving his, “and I know what the others will say…”

He began to feel lightheaded. At this rate, he was going to faint before he could hear her answer in full.

“…but I don’t care. For as long as there is life left in both of us, my king, I am yours. In whatever capacity you desire.”

“Oh.”

The word left him on a whoosh of breath, hissing behind his mask as relief washed over him in a powerful wave, every muscle in his body relaxing at once. Yet he couldn’t help the warped smile that overtook his countenance behind that façade of silver at the implications of her words.

She…?

“Yes,” she said with a nod, as if hearing the question his thoughts posed. A soft laugh followed, even as a shimmering tear slowly tracked down her cheek. “I love you, Baldwin. With all my heart. And I have since the day we met.”

At that, then, there was no longer any question of her feelings. He felt his own eyes welling with emotion, and he leaned towards her as close as he dared, propping his good hand on the table for support. “I regret that I will never be able to show you the extent of my own for you, my dear Lady Y/N. But understand this…” he paused, swallowing heavily. “My purest devotion has and always will belong to you. As much as a wretch such as I can be, I, too, am yours.”

She shook her head. “You are no wretch. Not to me.”

It was then her hand slowly moved towards where his gloved one yet lay on the table’s polished surface, and he flinched, a spike of fear darting through him like the bolt from a crossbow. “Y/N, no…”

Her gaze bored into his, her hand yet poised above his own. “I’m not afraid, my lord.”

“Y/N… please…”

The word was barely a whisper, slipping between the slightly-parted lips of his mask before he could catch it – a cry for her to stop and yet a plea for her not to. It was as if he had been paralyzed, unable to move away despite every corner of his mind screaming at him to withdraw.

If the glove was not enough… if it couldn’t safeguard her…

And yet all thoughts of everything came to a halt the moment her fingers lightly grazed his own, his breath catching in his throat. He felt it – the warmth of her through the thin silk – and it took all of his strength not to flinch away from her again, to curl his hand into a fist and recoil in upon himself to protect her from his horrid disease. Her eyes searched his, seemingly sifting through his soul as further she went. Slowly. Steadily. Her fingertips brushed with a feather-light touch over each set of knuckles, back and forth, and he couldn’t breathe. His lungs were desperate for air as she traced the delicate golden embroidery on the back of his hand; they finally betrayed him then, a shuddering exhale followed by a hitched intake of air he was certain she heard.

Yet Y/N only smiled at him once more, in that warm and gentle way of hers, her hand stilling as it rested atop his. And the entire world stilled along with it, his fear slowly ebbing as reason returned to replace it. These touches were all they had, he realized. All they could permit themselves. And yet still they could hold all the tenderness of a kiss.

Speaking of which…

He moved much more gently, then, as he twisted his hand underneath hers to catch her fingers in his grip. His gaze holding hers, he stroked his thumb across her knuckles before bringing that hand to his mask, where the cold and unfeeling lips touched the back of it in place of his own disfigured ones.

Despite not being able to give her a proper kiss, though, she evidently still understood the gesture, as another blush flushed her cheeks. A soft chuckle escaped him, and he remarked dryly, “There appears to be a bit of an obstacle here…”

At that, uncontrollable laughter burst from her, merry and full, and she clamped her other hand over her mouth to muffle it, leaning against the back of the chair as she continued to shake. He, too, laughed softly at her merriment, and for a moment the sound filled the room with a kind of joy it hadn’t witnessed in years.

After a moment, Y/N finally recovered, and she glanced over her shoulder as the faint strains of another song could be heard. Her gaze glittering with stars, both hands grasped his now and gently tugged as she stood. “Come. Dance with me.”

He blinked even as he slowly rose before her. “I… fear I’m not capable of much these days…”

“Not to worry,” she assured him with a grin, “I’ve just the dance in mind. Like this…”

With that, she pulled him to the open floor at the center of his chambers and began to show him the steps – two sidesteps here, two sidesteps there, a slow twirl of the lady in his arms, and begin again. For the first few cycles, she counted quietly until he caught the rhythm, and then there was only a warm, comfortable silence between them, the two gently swaying and turning to the distant music.

Tiberias was right. In that moment, Baldwin knew only happiness. Peace. Comfort. And so long as Y/N, too, felt these things, he could be content with whatever God had willed for him. He could only pray that, upon his death, the Almighty would be merciful to this woman, a living angel on Earth…

================================================

If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! If you want more of my writing, I also have a WIP Baldwin-centric longfic posted on Ao3 (shameless plug)! 😁Do let me know if you want me to continue this Y/N story! I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Also, the dance mentioned at the end of the story was inspired by this lovely one:

youtube

#kingdom of heaven #kingdom of heaven 2005 #kingdom of heaven fandom #king baldwin iv #baldwin iv #tiberias #raymond iii of tripoli #koh fandom #baldwin iv of jerusalem #the leper king #fanfiction #reader insert #baldwin iv x reader #fem reader #my fanfiction #Youtube

51 notes · View notes

ell-arts · 4 months

Note

Does Hell and Heaven exist in your pmatga aus? If so, does the Netherworld count as it's own version of Hell or is it a separate thing?

If they're all separate things in your aus I'd be hocked! I'd love to see your interpretations of them!

I was writing a whole-ass essay to this question when I realised that I was drawing it out unnecessarily 😅 SO I've decided to rather move the bulk of what I wanted to write into a separate post that focuses on my headcanons for the Netherworld and its reason for being.

So, short answer:

Heaven and hell do exist in most of my PMATGA written work, but they are separate from the Netherworld, in which the Nether acts as a border between eternal life and eternal death. The Nether is where ghosts go when they are not at peace and remain in limbo (or have unfinished business, so to say.)

This is not comparable to the concept of purgatory though, nor could the Nether be considered an equivalent of hell, even though it may have similarities. The Netherworld doesn't qualify for the rules and definitions of purgatory, nor does it portray the same amount of suffering that you would find in hell. But I'll elaborate more in that future post about headcanons for the Netherworld.

On the other hand, I also feel a bit inclined to headcanon that the Netherworld is not the type of 'afterlife' that we think of when we think of heaven and hell - rather, I wonder if the Nether is just a different dimension entirely, and the only way to access it is either through portals or through an abnormal separation of one's body and soul (like bodystripping) in which a person's soul is trapped in a different dimension (Netherworld) while it's body remains unconscious in the former dimension (Pacworld).

So, to sum it up, I hc that Pacworlders do believe in a heaven and a hell, but the Netherworld is a separate realm that comes prior to any sort of final/eternal afterlife.

#ask #pmatga #pacman and the ghostly adventures #This whole thing falls into a grey area for me #You can't headcanon or speculate about the Netherworld without referencing religion - where the concept of heaven and hell comes into play #And as a Christian I'm very careful about bringing in real-world beliefs and putting them in fictional portrayals of said beliefs #Because it may accidentally fall into a case where those beliefs are misrepresented and stigmatized #because of its inclusion in a fictional piece of media #Not necessarily because of a lack of awareness on the author's part #but for lack of awareness on the reader's part #For example: if ppl think that the Nether is just like purgatory then they'll have a misguided idea of what purgatory actually is #But yeah will elaborate more in a separate post sometime in the future

26 notes · View notes

bookshelf-in-progress · 8 months

Text

Success! I told someone in real life about one of my fantasy story concepts, and they didn't act like I was crazy!

#maybe she thought i was idk #but she was engaging with it #asking follow-up questions #noting parallels #i think it helped that i pitched it one weird concept at a time #like 'it's just after wwi and this guy's kind of a psychic'#'and then he had to go to war'#'and he's very aware of the fact that everyone he helped to kill was a person with an entire inner life'#'he's staying with his friend and doesn't want to see his family'#'because they're all mind readers too and would know all the stuff he's done'#and once she grasped that part i could bring in the mouse shapeshifter #and she seemed to get the appeal #and i could talk about how i accidentally gave myself emotions about these two #i'm pretty sure she's the first real-life person i've ever mentioned this story to #and the weirder part isn't that i haven't mentioned it after so long #but that i mentioned it at all #because this is one of my most convoluted concepts #so the lack of outward disdain was a nice moment

18 notes · View notes

foreverdolly · 3 months

Text

ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part I 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking. (needs to be edited, so please excuse any temporary errors!)

word count: 5.3k

← previous chapter | next chapter →

The ancient walls of Castle Caladan were a fortress, the long winding halls a labyrinth to those unfamiliar with its layout. You had tried feigning sleep when you had been made aware of the surprise guest’s arrival, a one “reverend mother”- as your mother referred to her. The cool air from the hallway nipped at your exposed arm, which currently hung limply over the side of the bed.

“She’s even smaller than your son, Jessica.” The voice sounded more like a wheeze- and it certainly didn’t belong to anyone you had ever met before.

“As I’ve already said, the Atreides are slow to grow.” Your mother’s tone didn’t hold even a semblance of a bite to it, not like you expected. She was usually fiercely protective of you and your brother.

Your finger twitched, causing the woman to stifle whatever disapproving comment she was about to make. Being caught eavesdropping like this certainly wasn’t ideal, but you found it impossible not to be curious.

“She really is just like her brother,” More like he was more like you. You’d always been the rowdy one of the two. Paul must have been listening in as well, and you imagined that he was more insulted at the comments of his lack of height and muscle than you were. “The little rascals.”

There was a beat of silence before the woman began to crone again. This time you opened your eyes just a sliver, staring into the dark abyss of your room so that you could make out the shapes of your mother and the stranger.

“Rest now. Both you and your brother need to be prepared to meet my Gom Jabbar.” The reason couldn’t be pinpointed, but there was something about her tone that filled you with dread.

Your mother woke you up the next morning, bright and early.

Not even the breathing exercises that your mother had taught you had been able to calm you down last night. The darkness had swallowed you whole, which resulted in a dreamless sleep that left you feeling just as unrested as you had felt the night before. Your mother noticed your hesitations, the skirts of her dress dragging against the stone floor as she moved in the direction of your closet. The dress that she picked out for you was one of your more official garments, the red hawk of the Atreides crest proudly sewn onto the right breast.

“Did you sleep well?” She questioned as she laid the dress neatly onto the edge of the bed, urging you to stand once her hands were free.

You blinked at her, nervously brushing your hands along the soft cotton of your nightdress. Your voice felt stuck in your throat, but you still managed to lie.

“Yes, of course.” Your tone was flat, and for once she didn’t question you on the reasoning. She knew exactly what had you feeling so uncomfortable in your own home.

Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar.

What exactly did the old woman want from your family? Lady Jessica was a Bene Gesserit, which could only mean that this woman was a higher up, sent to pay you and your brother a visit. You knew nothing about any “coming of age” rituals.

Paul barged into the room, dressed in his finer clothes as well. He leaned against the wall of your room, lips pursed as if he was deep in thought. You tilted your head to the side, leveling him a worried glance. He simply shook his head, and you knew at once that he wasn’t trying to dismiss your worries.

‘Not here. Later.’ His expression told you, and for once you obeyed.

“The reverend mother is waiting on the both of you. Paul, get out of your sister’s room so she can get ready.” She commanded, her tone leaving no room for whining or disobedience.

He groaned, pushing himself off of the wall so that he could head back out and into the hall. You shrugged out of your dress quickly at the hurried insistence of your mother, allowing her to do up the clasps of the dress for you.

“Who is she?” You asked simply, brushing your hair to the side so that she could get a better grasp of the dress.

“She was my teacher at the Bene Gesserit school and now she is the Emperor’s Truthsayer.” Your mother sighed out your name, turning you quickly so that you were facing her. “You need to do exactly as she says. There is no room to be prideful today, do you understand?” Her eyes were pleading, and you knew that she had your best interests in mind.

You and your mother walked wordlessly out into the hall, catching up with your brother who was busy running his fingers along the uneven stone walls. You flashed a quick look at your mother before jogging to catch up with Paul, taking the hem of his sleeve into your hand.

“What do you know?” You whispered, turning your head so that you could look at your mother. Much to your surprise she seemed to be in no hurry to separate the two of you.

“I’ve had dreams about her before,” He whispered, and you had to pick up your pace to keep up with his strides. “And mother told me this morning that I have to tell her about my visions.”

Your mouth went a bit dry at the realization that this woman truly was here just for you and your brother. What is the Gom Jabbar and what did it entail? There was no telling.

“She’s in my morning room, you two.” She called out after you.

Jessica caught up, leveling the both of you a disapproving motherly look that had the two of you slowing your strides to match hers. She seemed a bit hesitant, eyes flickering between you and your brother and the closed door.

The “reverend mother” sat in one of the tapestried chairs, her arms perched on either side of the armrests as she watched the three of you come in. The view behind her was beautiful, the sprawling, green farmlands of the Atreides family holding on full display through the large windows behind her. You glanced at your brother, eyes widening when you realized that he was already looking at you. He bowed in her direction and you followed his lead.

“They are a cautious bundle, aren’t they?” The witch-like woman croaked, looking between the two of you.

“As they have been taught, your reverence.”

In this room, here in front of this woman, Jessica was no longer the Duke’s concubine nor your mother. She was reduced to that of a pupil in the face of her teacher. You kept yourself from fidgeting, clasping your hands in front of you. You fought the urge to reach out and grab your brother’s hand, as the two of you so often did when faced with anxiety as children. Fear hadn’t regressed you to that of a blubbering child in years.

Your mother also seemed to fear the woman before her. There was something in her tone that led you to believe that whatever she was here for, it surely wasn’t a pleasantry. Your brother was tense at your mother’s other side, jaw tense as he stared the reverend mother down.

“Teaching is one thing, but there are some things that cannot simply be taught,” Paul’s eyebrows furrowed as she spoke, and as if she was dismissing a servant of the castle, she waved your mother off with a flick of her wrist. “You and your daughter leave us. It will be her turn soon.”

For the first time that morning your mother hesitated, eyes softened as she looked upon her son.

“Your reverence, I-” She began, but was cut off before she could finish whatever it is she was going to say. Surely it was meant to be an objection.

“Jessica, you know that this must be done.” Her voice held a tone of finality. There was no room for your mother to try and wiggle the both of you two out of this trap.

“Yes. . . of course.” Your mother straightened, turning towards both of you.

“This test. . . It’s very important to me, you two.” She spoke in a hushed voice, eyes still fearful.

“Test?” The two of you questioned at the same time, looking at one another in concern. You were confused, even more so than you were before.

“Remember that you’re the duke’s son.” And with that your mother was grabbing your arm, pulling you in the direction of the door.

“I suppose that it is my turn?” Your voice shook with anger as you practically tore the door off of its hinges, anxious to take your brother’s place. His cries and whimpers did not go unheard, even with the thick wood separating the two of you.

Looking at him now, his right arm still shaking from the pain, was like being slapped across the face.

“Right you are, girl. Jessica, please escort your son out of the room.” There was a silvery glint in her bright eyes- a challenge. She could sense it in you.

Your mother didn’t interrupt this time, and without any words exchanged the door closed. Your brother was too shaken up by whatever had taken place in that room to fully comprehend that the same thing was going to happen to you. He tossed a terrified glance over his shoulder at you just before the heavy doors closed. The sound of it echoed around the room, pulsing in your chest as you tried to steady the adrenaline pumping through your veins.

“Your future. . . do you know what is expected of you?”

You eyed the black box that sat next to her as you began closing the distance between the two of you. The question she had asked. . . it was a touchy subject with you. Of course you knew. A day didn’t go by that you weren’t mortified by the prospect of your future. You only had three short years to live and enjoy before you would be forced to abandon your family to join hands with another one.

“Of course I do. It is my duty to marry.” Your voice had a bite to it, your eyes unwavering as you stared her veiled face down.

“It is your duty to marry a Harkonnen. It is an honor to be the only reason that these two great Houses are allies. Your heirs will be powerful beyond comprehension.” The way she spoke. . . she truly believed the shit she was spouting.

It was impossible to consider marrying Feyd an honor. It was an ever-present looming threat.

“Put your right hand in the box.” She commanded, nodding her head in it’s direction.

It seemed harmless enough, nothing more than a metal box. You bent your head ever-so-slightly, trying to have a look inside. It appeared to be a pitch black, endless void. No beginning or end in sight.

You did as you were told, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from muttering anything too disrespectful under your breath. If Paul’s screams were anything to go off of then this was going to be painful. Still, you were shocked by how cold the box was. You wiggled your fingers a few times, feeling the metal encasing them. Slowly a tingling sensation began, almost as if they were falling asleep.

“You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? There’s an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind.”

The tingling sensation somehow melded into. . . heat. No, not heat. Burning. It felt as though you had your hand held up to a bright flame. You flinched, but froze when you finally noticed that the reverend mother was holding something against your neck. Your eyes flickered the best that they could to her hand, not wanting to turn your head.

“What I hold at your neck is the Gom Jabbar. The tip of the needle is dipped in poison. Remove your hand from the box and I will plunge it into your neck.”

The palm of your free hand began to sweat, the gravity of the situation finally landing on your shoulders. You would be forced to endure the pain and there was nothing that anyone outside of the doors could do. No guards had come to protect your brother when it was his turn, and no matter how emotional your mother had gotten whilst hearing his screams she still hadn’t rushed in after him. You could truly die here in this room.

“Why are you doing this?” You urged, wincing again as the burning continued to worsen.

Now it felt as though you were almost touching a flame, fingers dancing dangerously close. It wasn’t just uncomfortable now but painful. “To determine if you’re human. Now be silent.”

Meant for greatness, yet stifled before her prime.

It was impossible for your clipped wings to take flight. The Bene Gesserit had instilled in you your purpose from a very young age, letting it be known that you were little more than cattle to be sold off to breed. The whole arrangement was dehumanizing, but this was the way of galactic high society. Every House had been developed by the close, watchful eye of the Bene Gesserit. Your mere existence was a result of a centuries long breeding program, so how could you ever expect for your own life to be any different?

Every child, especially in their naive youth, dreams of greatness. There was a point in time where you had hoped to mean something. There were differences to be made, rules to be broken, wars to be raged- but you would never be at the helm of any of it. But Paul. . . Paul was different.

“You know something that I don’t.” You weren’t asking Paul, rather telling him what you already knew.

Where you were used to your brother pulling no punches, he had been overly cautious with his treatment of you during training today. For a second he just stared ahead blankly at the wall, and you wondered whether he would try to lie. The older you’ve gotten, the stranger other people’s treatment of you has become. Women were little more than something to be owned. It was a hard lesson to learn and was one you were still grappling with.

Your femininity were the chains that bound you. And what of your ambition? It was currently acting as the flames licking at your boot heels. Soon you feared that it would fully engulf you; become your undoing.

“Tell me.” Your lovely features crumpled, and as childish as it was you found yourself giving his arm a slap.

He jumped at the sudden contact, eyes widening as he turned to face you after what felt like an eternity of prolonged silence between the two of you. The hard flooring felt cool beneath your legs as you stretched them out beneath you, and for a second you found it hard to keep yourself up in a sitting position. The world felt unsteady beneath you, both literally and figuratively.

Paul didn’t have to say anything at all. You looked, you saw, you felt, you understood. Your shared connection had nothing to do with your genes, rather it had to do with your likeness. Two bodies, two minds, but one soul. Your twin’s features crumpled, mirroring that of your own as he pushed a few strands of dark hair away from his face.

“So there is nothing I can do? My fate is sealed.” Your lips felt numb as you spoke.

Your brother’s visions were more frequent than they had ever been before. “Horrors”, he’d described them.

“If there was something I could do. . .” He started, turning quickly to face you, tucking one leg beneath himself. “My hands are tied. Mother and father’s hands are as well.”

Hiding you away or knowingly allowing you to escape your duties would be seen as an act of treason. You’d be putting your parents and their status in danger, and no matter how desperate you were to get out of any sort of marriage pact, it was far too late. Since the very moment you were conceived, this was what you were meant for.

“When will the orders come down, you think?” You pulled your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them tightly.

You wished that you could stay like this forever, protected from the rest of the world. If only you hadn’t been born as twins at all. You wanted so badly to be like Paul.

But the galaxy didn’t work like that. You were not fortunate enough to get what you wanted.

“Soon.”

You felt comforted by the hand that he placed on your shoulder, and even more so when he kept it there until you felt as though you were able to stand up.

You were to marry into House Harkonnen. That was your purpose; to unite the feuding houses and birth powerful offspring. You had met Feyd once before, but only for a fleeting moment. It hadn’t been awkward- no, back then the two of you hadn’t cared enough to pay any mind to the looming threat that was your betrothal. You’d been too young back then to fully grasp the severity of the situation.

You remembered being shocked by his size. He towered over Paul, appearing to be years older than he really was. His hair had been dark back then, thick and slightly curly.

He had only just been taken under his uncle’s wing at the time. The environment of Giedi Prime had yet to fully sink into the young boy. The Harkonnen’s looks had always been startling to you, no matter how many times you’d been exposed to it. They were dark creatures, brooding, hairless with skin as pale as milk- not to mention violent.

The desperate way that Paul had clung to you was not lost on you. You let him squeeze you as tightly as he needed, your arms locking around his back. This meeting would change everything. In a matter of moments your life as you knew it would be taking a drastic turn, and not for the better.

You’d made that very same trek to the parlor room a million times. This was your ancestral home- had been in your family longer than you thought was conceivable, and yet this felt new to you. Wrong. The shadows from the windows were casting strange lights on the wall beside you, and your footsteps sounded muffled in your ears as your pounding heart nearly deafened you. Your father’s hand brushed against your palm a few times, his attempt at showing you physical comfort without causing any sort of scene. You knew that this was Feyd-Rautha’s right.

You were Feyd-Rautha’s right. That simple fact alone was enough to send you reeling, that morning's breakfast churning in your stomach.

“It will be fine.” Your mother’s fingers shaped the words at her side, a comforting and silent presence.

Your parents had always protected you. They had taught you well in all aspects of life. She was right. You had to trust yourself just as much as you trusted them. This will be fine. You will survive.

But god, you wanted to live.

Your worst fear was being locked up like a caged animal, only taken out to be played with or paraded around. You didn’t want to be somebody's little wife; you were no homemaker or bed warmer.

‘I am better than this.’ You thought to yourself, your hands balling into fists at your sides.

As the double doors began creeping open, you felt the sudden urge to run the opposite direction, your parents be damned. The feud between House Atreides and House Harkonnen would surely become deadly if you were to turn your back on the promise now, and that was the only thing that steeled your feet. You stood, back straight and hands clasped tightly at your front.

You looked to be a pillar of strength, but oh- you were so close to crumbling. Your father took a step past the threshold, eyes hard as he bowed his head respectfully in the Baron’s direction. There was still time to turn around. The door was right there, and you were sure that you could commandeer a ship. You’d piloted a few times before in your life, and while you weren’t the best, you were certain you could get yourself the hell off of Caladan. You shuffled your feet, eyes wide as you looked up and caught your mother’s gaze. Her lips were parted, and you could tell that she was trying to decipher your expression.

“What are you doing?” Her hand moved quickly at her side, the flowy gauze-like material of her skirts hiding her frantic movements from the visitor’s view.

Nothing. You were doing nothing. There were no options yet. If you fled then the insubordination would fall back on your parents. If you downright refused then the outcome would be the same. There was nothing you could do but keep your mouth shut and try not to show the Harkonnen even a semblance of vulnerability.

Disdain rolled off of you in waves as you breezed into the parlor, eyes locked on the side of your father’s face as he conversed with the baron. Tensions were high, even now. No pleasantries were being exchanged, that you were sure of. The Harkonnen’s stark black attire was a startling contrast to their pale skin. There, in the middle of two other men, whom you were sure were present for reasons of protection, was Feyd.

He looked the same as the rest of them. Hairless, blue eyes dripping with something that could only be described as malice. Gone was the curly haired child that you remembered. In his place stood someone unrecognizable to you. You wanted to question what the Baron had done to Feyd, but you already knew. Perfection was expected on Geidi Prime.

He had shaped Feyd into the very likeness of perfection. The once dark haired boy was now a walking, talking machine; not even a dead leaf echo of the boy you met all those years ago.

You tried to map out every single one of his microexpressions, searching desperately for any sign that he might disapprove of the predicament the both of you had found yourselves in. He tilted his head to the side, observing you with a horrifying level of concentration. The Baron began to speak, saying something that you didn’t care enough to listen to. You were too distracted by the terrifying man before you.

“She will come back home to Geidi Prime with us. No objections, correct?”

You were marrying him out of an obligation, this he was already privy to. He had seen the reluctance written plain across your face as you’d entered the room. You’d wanted to run. Away from him, away from your responsibilities- and he could not blame you for it. His understanding stopped there though, simply because this proposal wasn’t going against his own wishes.

“The wedding isn’t taking place for another week.” The Duke didn’t seem to like the idea of his unwed daughter leaving his side.

Feyd fought back a smile, having known that the Baron’s sudden request would have this effect on the Atreides family. He watched you squirm like a bug under a magnifying glass, your hand moving at your hip. For a second he thought that you might be tugging at the seam of your dress, writing it off as nothing but a nervous tick- but then he saw the way your mother’s eyes followed those movements.

The two of you were communicating.

“That may be so, however I think that it is only right that your daughter,” Baron Vladimir motioned in your direction. “Becomes better acquainted with Feyd. You don’t agree?”

His uncle decided that it was best to test the boundaries of this alliance. He was pushing the Duke, seeing how far he could get. Leto’s lips twitched, his eyes flickering thoughtfully towards you. Feyd was finding it hard to pay attention to anyone else other than you in the room. He’d spent years imagining what you would look like as an adult- dreamt about it. He’d eagerly been awaiting this moment, counting the days that he could finally be reunited with you.

It wasn’t just because he had been promised powerful heirs. It was the thought that someone was fated to marry him. Since before he was even conceived, you had always been promised to him. That idea had been put into his head since childhood. You were the constant topic in his mind, a person that was unavoidably meant to be in his life for the rest of his days.

In a strange way he had loved you since he was but a child.

Seeing you for that first time had been better than he had anticipated. You were a beautiful little girl, but now? The child that he had met all those years ago did not hold a candle to the grace and brilliance of the woman that stood before him. Nobody else could ever compare. You didn’t have to fall for him right now, he was content with that. Hell, you didn’t even have to tolerate him. He would find pleasure in wearing you down. He was going to make you love him.

I must not fear. Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.

The adrenaline had run its way out of your system, leaving you cold and alone on a planet that was so incredibly alien to you, you weren’t sure how you’d ever be expected to adjust. Even the oxygen felt different in your lungs- the sweet, acrid smell of chemicals tinging the air around you. It was nothing like your home on Caladan. Your home was a stone castle, but this? This was a cold, black fortress.

You weren’t sure if it was meant to keep people out. . . or in.

You thought back to that fateful day with the reverend mother.

You couldn’t chew your leg off to be free of this. No, you had to lay in wait. Only then could you strike if the situation called for it.

“Striking” could wait until tomorrow though. For now you wanted to rid yourself of the anxiety. Sleep was the only cure you could think of.

“Is the room to your liking?” That husky voice of his was already grating on your nerves.

Feyd had only attempted to speak to you a few times and already you were sick and tired of his presence. He was a constant reminder that you would never know what it was like to be free. Then again, was anybody in the galaxy truly free? Feyd sure seemed to be carefree in his current position.

His tone felt off, like he was toying with you.

“I would be far more pleased about my new living quarters if you were to leave.” You said simply, pulling the slate gray blanket up and over your chin.

You weren’t sure if it was due to his ill-breeding, but he didn’t seem to care that you were in nothing but your night dress. He walked into the room in long-legged strikes, letting the door shut behind him. Never before had the two of you been alone together, not since you were children at least. If you were back in your family home you would feel safer during a moment like this.

You were in his territory now, meaning he had full reign over everything. Your father and family name couldn’t protect you on Geidi Prime.

“You’re in quite the rush to be rid of me,” He didn’t falter for even a second as he moved to sit down on the edge of the bed, leaning back against the plush mattress with a small sigh. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think that you didn’t like me.” He didn’t seem upset at the notion of you disliking him. In fact, there was a glint in his eyes. That same sort of silvery glint you’d seen in the reverend mother’s eyes all those years ago: a challenge.

This was nothing but a challenge to him. You were a conquest, and you detested that. Your stomach soured, your face becoming pinched as you glared at him. This was all too much too fast. You were in the comfort of your own home not even four hours ago, and now you were expected to make small talk with the source of your life-long discontent.

“And what of your concubines? Could you not pester them tonight and give me a moment's peace?”

“I dismissed them from their duties, permanently, weeks ago.” He said simply, his fingers running along the cotton of the comforter.

“What?” You’d never heard of such a thing.

“Spending time with them would be a waste.” His blue eyes flickered up to meet your eyes. “Acquiring concubines had just been a show of status.”

It took you a few moments to process what he was saying, the burning hatred you had felt just moments ago flickering out into a dull flame.

“Why would spending time with them be a waste? Am I expected to spend that much time with you?” A horror, truly. You had hoped that you’d be able to get away with spending a night or two a week with him, if only to achieve the Bene Gesserit’s goal of siring an heir.

“A waste of time. A waste of seed,” He looked at you pointedly, his lip pulling up into a smile that revealed more of his black teeth. “And both of those things are important to me.”

Your stomach hollowed out as you were once again reminded of what was expected of you. You had a week to prepare mentally for your wedding night, which you weren’t sure was enough.

“And what happened to the concubines? Are they still being housed here?”

“Why? Are you jealous?” He was smiling even wider than he was before.

A shiver ran through you as you noticed how predatory his body language was- you felt like prey under his haughty gaze. It was hard to believe that Feyd had been administered the Gom Jabbar test and passed.

This man was no human. He was an animal, that you were certain.

“Wickedly.” Your tone was flat and noncommittal. Even now, you never saw Feyd as a potential lover.

The man that was your so-called “destiny” was also your jailer.

“Well then you’ll be happy to know that they no longer live here. . . or anywhere, for that matter.” He sat up, rolling his shoulders back to stretch his broad muscles.

The blood drained from your face as you stared up at him from your spot on the bed. He must have felt the weight of your gaze and turned his head, his eyes alight with. . . pleasure. Violence was as ingrained in him as breathing was. It was his life. Standing before you was the prince of death- pale, striking and terrifying.

Animal, indeed.

I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.

← previous chapter | next chapter →

please message me if you'd like to be added to my taglist!

A/N: this chapter was plot heavy, I know, however it was crucial to give you guys some background information so that I can better build tension. the beautiful dividers were created by @ kitsunecafe!

#feyd rautha #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd rautha x reader #dune part 2 #dune #austin butler #austin butler x reader #smut #dune smut #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune x reader #dune fanfiction #austin butler fic #feyd rautha fic

5K notes · View notes

yuujispinkhair · 3 months

Text

Bad Boy - Good Toy

Sukuna is used to girls throwing themselves at him, begging him to dominate them. He never met any resistance. He never met any challenge. Until he meets you, and suddenly, the bad boy becomes nothing but a willing fucktoy.

There is now a Part 02

Pairing: Sub!Sukuna x Dom!Reader (female) Genre: smut, College AU Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, degradation, humiliation, edging, exhibitionism, voyeurism, smoking, mentions of drugs, sharing chewing gum, facesitting, squirting, abs-riding, overstimulation, Sukuna cums untouched, piss (Reader pees on Sukuna to humiliate him, and he likes it). Reader calls Sukuna slut, fucktoy and fuckdoll. Unhealthy relationship dynamics. Reader and Sukuna don't talk about limits or safe words. Sukuna is ok with everything Reader does to him, but please be aware that this isn't the way a sub/dom relationship is supposed to be in real life. I just wanted things to be a bit fucked up in this story ;) Divider @/benkeibear

Sukuna is bored. So fucking bored. Bored with college in general, bored of the parties that are always the same, bored of the drugs that don't give him the kick he craves anymore. Even sex is boring nowadays. He sighs as his gaze brushes over the girl kneeling between his spread legs. He didn't bother asking for her name. He thinks she might be in his history course. But it doesn't matter. Nothing matters.

He doesn't even bother to hide from view, letting her suck him off in the back of the dimly lit living room on some ratty couch, while a few meters away, people are dancing and drinking and singing along to songs that Sukuna hates. She is eager, bopping her mouth on his dick enthusiastically, humming around him, and hollowing her cheeks like a champ. But he feels nothing at all. He isn't even sure he can cum tonight. It's like he is numb to everything. The nameless girl moans around his dick, and Sukuna grabs his phone to send his brother a message.

Where are you, brat? I want to leave.

He doesn't get a reply and instead checks his group chats and e-mails while the girl between his legs slurps loudly on his tip. Sukuna huffs in annoyance and lets his bored gaze travel through the room. It lands on a girl in a red t-shirt who is looking in his direction. You are sipping your drink casually while you unashamedly watch him getting his dick sucked.

It makes him grin broadly. Finally, a little bit of entertainment. Maybe he will manage to cum just to give that little voyeur a good show. And afterward, he can take you to one of the bedrooms and fuck you. Or maybe do it right here on that couch, too.

He winks at you. A smile spreads over your face, but it's not the smile Sukuna usually sees on the faces of the girls he plans to fuck. It's the kind of smile he sees in the mirror. A smile that means trouble. His cock twitches, and he groans softly.

He doesn't break eye contact, and neither do you. Sukuna raises an eyebrow challengingly, smirking at you, daring you to come over while he gets his dick sucked. His stomach flips when you really start walking towards him.

Sukuna's pulse accelerates when you stop right next to him. You let your gaze travel from his face down to his cock, watching it bop in and out of that other girl's mouth. You chuckle. It's not a nice sound.

"Aww, do you have problems cumming, Sukuna? Is your dick not working?"

For a stunned second, Sukuna just blinks at you, mouth hanging open. The resident bad boy rendered speechless for the first time in his life. And then he throws his head back and laughs, and simultaneously, he feels his balls tighten.

"If you get on all fours, I will show you just how good my dick works, sweetheart."

You roll your eyes and cross your arms in front of your breasts, looking at him with a bored and unimpressed expression.

"What makes you think I would let you get anywhere near me with that dick of yours. I don't want dirty, good-for-nothing sluts like you."

"What did you just call me?"

But his response lacks the bite. Instead, he sounds breathless, and his hand tightens on the couch as his cock twitches in the other girl's mouth. Fuck, it feels so good all of a sudden.

You smile that dangerous smile again and lean closer, your flowery perfume filling Sukuna's nose, and you repeat your words to him, slowly, overly accentuated as if he is stupid,

"Dirty. Good-for-nothing. Slut."

A raw groan spills from Sukuna's throat, and his hips buck off the couch, making the girl between his legs choke on his cock, as he nuts so hard into her mouth that she's spluttering his cum everywhere.

He stares wide-eyed at your smug face as the gears in his mind shift at lightspeed. What the fuck just happened?

The girl between his legs climbs onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck, and tries to kiss him, but Sukuna turns his face to the side, looking at you instead,

"Who do you think you are to talk to me like that?"

"Why? Enjoyed it too much, and now you are scared of how your body betrayed you, little slut?"

You laugh and turn around, walking away while you lift a hand in a mocking little wave, and Sukuna stares after you with his mind whirling and his cock still throbbing.

He wakes up the next morning with a strange feeling in his gut. Something is different.

And after a moment, he realizes what it is when the memories from last night come back, and his eyes widen, and a whispered curse falls from his lips. The encounter with you replays in his mind just like it did countless times before he managed to fall asleep last night. Your cruel smile and the sadistic glint in your eyes. The way his body reacted to it.

He is so used to everyone cowering before him. So used to everyone submitting to him so willingly. All those countless girls throwing themselves at him, begging him to please let them suck his dick, obeying his every command, asking him if they can please call him daddy during fucking.

He never met any resistance. He never met any challenge. One look from him and the girls were practically on their backs with their legs spread like some animal in heat.

No one ever talked to him the way you did. Or looked at him that way. As if he is worthless trash in your eyes. Your words resonate in his brain. "You dirty, good-for-nothing slut."

Fuck! It turns him on. It makes him achingly hard even now. He turns onto his back and shoves a hand into his pants. He jerks off so furiously that his wrist hurts, making a huge mess all over himself when he cums to the thought of you calling him a useless brat.

Sukuna isn't the same man he was 24 hours ago.

He totally doesn't look for you on campus on Monday morning. It is totally a coincidence that he slides up to you when you pull out a package of strawberry bubble gum from the vending machine. It's definitely not like he followed you around like a puppy for a whole hour until he finally got his shit together and decided to approach you.

"Strawberry flavor, huh? Wouldn't have thought that a foul person like you would pick such a sweet flavor."

You eye him lazily, eyes never leaving his as you tear open the packaging and put one of the pastel pink bubble gums into your mouth before you grace him with a reply.

"Oh, shut up. An attitude like that doesn't fit a pretty boy like you. Learn to behave, and then we can talk again."

Sukuna feels his lips lift in his trademark smirk as that weird, exhilarating sensation fills his veins again. He is enjoying himself far too much. He braces himself against the vending machine, his large hands on both sides of your face, caging you in, towering over you, while he smirks down at you.

But you don't seem intimidated at all by his height and muscular figure and the tattoos on his face. Instead, you smile at him and cock your head to the side, eyeing him expectantly as if you are waiting for him to do something.

He leans down, bringing his face closer to yours.

"Can I have a gum too? Please? See, I can behave very well."

His voice has dropped to his usual flirty, seductive tone, which he always uses on girls. The tone that always drives them crazy and makes them drop their panties faster than they can say his name.

You flutter your lashes exaggeratedly at him, smiling a sickeningly fake angelic smile as you open your mouth and pull out your gum.

"Ok, you can have one since you asked so politely. Open up, slut."

He laughs when you push the used gum to his lips, but Sukuna isn't one to back down, so he grabs your small hand, wraps his tattooed hand around your wrist, and opens his mouth. He licks your fingers, lets his tongue-piercing glide over your fingertips, and sucks the used bubble gum into his mouth.

You gaze deeply into his eyes, looking amused.

"You didn't even say thank you, Sukuna. You are still such a useless and rude brat."

You turn on your heel and leave him standing there like some rejected loser, and he chews the gum that tastes like strawberry and your spit and feels his cock twitch against his sweatpants.

Sukuna sees you again on Saturday at another party. Two girls danced with him and asked him if he wanted to fuck them both upstairs in one of the bedrooms, but he turned them down, not even able to grasp why.

Until he walks into the kitchen and sees you. And suddenly, things fall into place.

Why bother with those random girls when the one he really wants is you? You are the only one who poses a challenge. The only one who makes his skin tingle with excitement. The only one who makes him feel like he is still alive and not some fucking ghost.

He leans against the fridge and watches you while he lights a cigarette. He smokes it in silence, just smirking at you and hoping you will come over and call him a slut again. Or any other degrading name you can think of. Sukuna isn't picky.

You walk over to him, a few drags into his cigarette, and stop in front of him, so close that he can smell your sweet perfume again. And you smile that smile that isn't sweet at all as you reach up and take the cigarette from Sukuna's lips. Your eyes never leave his as you bring his half-smoked cigarette to your mouth, wrapping your lips with the red lipstick around the filter right where Sukuna's lips were a moment ago, and the sight is so sexy to him that Sukuna has to bite his lip not to moan.

You take a deep drag, and your eyes close for a moment as the nicotine fills your senses before they open again to gaze up at Sukuna through your long lashes, grinning as you slowly blow the smoke right into Sukuna's face.

He laughs, pushing himself off the fridge, stepping closer to you, so close that his hips brush against you,

"You know what that means, right princess? Blowing smoke in someone's face?"

"Who doesn't know that?"

You roll your eyes and look at him as if he is stupid, and he can't help but place his large hands on your waist and drawl in his best bedroom voice,

"So, you admit you want to fuck me?"

You smirk back at him as you push his hands off your waist, sounding dismissive when you shrug and say,

"You have a pretty face and a good body. And I am horny right now. So why not? And you are probably a good fuck, with all that practice you had."

"What makes you so sure I want to fuck you?"

"Oh, don't be silly. You won't say no. A slut like you never does. Everyone knows you are easy."

Sukuna doesn't bother telling you that he just turned down two hot chicks half an hour ago. He lets you grab his hand and pull him along, and he follows you with a broad smirk on his tattooed face.

His cock is already pressing against his jeans when his crotch brushes over your ass when you pull him up the stairs. His mind is hazy, thoughts clouded over by lust, finally feeling that sweet, exciting buzzing again that he missed so much.

You pull him into one of the bedrooms, yank off his t-shirt, and push him onto the bed. Or you try to. You push against his broad chest, not able to move him an inch, but he plays along and lets himself fall onto the bed, looking up at you with heavy-lidded maroon eyes and his throbbing erection leaking pre-cum into his pants like some pathetic little virgin before his first fuck.

Sukuna licks his lips when he watches you reach under your skirt and take off your panties. That's the only thing you take off before you join him on the bed, straddling his thighs, making him smirk at you like the devil that he is,

"So eager to get my cock inside you that you can't even be bothered to get naked, princess?"

"Shut up, slut. Good boys don't talk unless I allow it."

Your little hands are on his belt, opening it, unbuttoning his jeans, and pulling down the zipper, making Sukuna's hips twitch when your hand rubs over his boxer-clad erection. He knows he is acting pathetic right now, cock so eager, already staining the fabric of his boxer briefs with a ridiculously huge amount of pre-cum. But fuck it, he is finally turned on again, finally excited to fuck again after all those months of feeling bored.

He pushes his hard cock against your hand, but you pull away again, smiling that devilish smile at him as you crawl on top of him.

Sukuna laughs breathlessly when you hover above his face, letting him know what you want from him. His large hands reach out to run slowly up the back of your thighs before they cup your ass cheeks, and he pulls you down onto his face.

He groans when your hot wet pussy settles on his tattooed face. Fuck, he always heard his brother go on and on about how hot he finds it when a girl sits on his face with a skirt and no panties. Sukuna had never found it so fascinating until now. Until it is you, and you tell him in that emotionless voice,

"Get to work, my little slut. If you make me squirt, you will get a reward."

He turns his face and moans against your inner thigh, leaving a kiss there,

"And what will my reward be?"

"I'll allow you to cum."

Allow him to cum?

Fuck. The words alone make Sukuna throb in his boxer briefs, another pearl of pre-cum leaking out of him.

"Then stop acting like a squeamish virgin and sit on my face for real."

"I told you to shut up, brat."

"Then shut me up with your pussy."

Sukuna grabs your ass cheeks tightly and pulls you down further, making you sit on his face for real. He isn't just a good fuck. He is the best fuck, and he will prove it to you!

He sucks your little swollen clit into his mouth and laughs when you gasp loudly. You grab his hair, tugging on it, making him groan as the slightly painful sensation goes directly to his throbbing cock. And he spoils your pussy like the slut that he is. Teases your clit with the stiff tip of his tongue and pushes the metal ball of his tongue piercing under the hood of your clit until you tremble and moan loudly.

He gets really into it, fucks you with his tongue and sucks savagely on your clit, eats you so good that it only takes a few minutes until you let out a high-pitched squeal and buck wildly against his face.

Hot, sticky liquid gushes over his lips, and you rock against him, voice breathless but still so stern,

"Open your eyes. Watch me cum all over your pretty face. Yeah, take it all, you little slut. Drink it all up."

Sukuna's eyes meet yours, and he moans, and his hips buck involuntarily, cock so desperate that he is rutting against thin air while pulsing pre into his boxer briefs.

He drinks you up, pushes his pierced tongue deeply into your twitching pussy, and licks it all up, basking in the way you mewl his name for a split second before you regain control and run a hand through his tousled pink hair, smoothing it down again,

"You are a good little fucktoy, Sukuna. Well done."

Sukuna's cock throbs at your words, and he blinks in surprise. Ok, so it's not just degradation that gets him excited, but also praise? Well, he is so fucked. So thoroughly fucked, and he loves every second of it!

You climb off his face, kneeling on the bed beside him, and let your small hands trail down Sukuna's defined pecs and his taut abs, following his tattoos down to the hem of his boxer briefs.

"You have such a nice body, Sukuna. The perfect little fucktoy. And what about that pretty cock? Is he perfect too, hm?"

A breathy gasp falls from his lips when you run a single finger over the thick bulge in his boxer briefs, slowly running up and down his whole throbbing length. Just a light, teasing touch, but it makes his vision blurry and pulls a desperate-sounding whine from his mouth.

It's so fucking humiliating. He's making such pathetic noises. But he simply can't bring himself to care. Not when he finally feels alive again when he is with you. His low voice is thick with need when he whispers,

"You said you would make me cum."

"Uh uh, I didn't say I would make you cum, sweetheart. I said I will allow you to cum. Let's see how things will go. Let's see how excited my little fucktoy will get. Don't forget what you are here for, Sukuna, baby. You are in this bed to serve me."

"Fuck..."

It takes all of Sukuna's willpower to not shove a hand into his boxer briefs and relieve that fucking pressure.

You straddle him again, sit on his abs this time, rubbing yourself on them, making him gasp when he feels how wet and hot your pussy is and how you spread your cream all over him. It's sexy. Nasty, just as he likes it.

Sukuna can see your face now, and it makes his chest fill with elation when he sees the fucked out expression on your face as you slide over his firm abs, rubbing your little clit against his hard muscles, your eyes closing and lips hanging open dumbly when you moan so sweetly and twitch on his stomach, reaching another orgasm on him.

He could sneak a hand behind you, could jack off behind your back, but he doesn't do it. He wants to be your good little toy.

You don't stop but keep rutting against him, your fingernails digging into the swell of Sukuna's pecs, leaving their crescent-moon-shaped marks there as you abuse your puffy clit further on his abs.

And Sukuna grabs your hips and helps you ride his abs, grinning as he hears your harsh breathing and feels you starting to tense up again. Another loud squeal tumbles out of your mouth, and Sukuna is about to taunt you for being so horny for him that you cum on him three times in a row when he feels something hot and wet on his abs, much more than during your other two orgasms.

You hum and grind against him as more wetness flows out of you and onto Sukuna's stomach, warm and sweet-smelling, and Sukuna's gaze snaps to yours in understanding.

You laugh and rub yourself against him, smiling that devilish smile as you pee on him. And he can't hold back the loud moan falling from his lips, can't stop his cock from twitching, almost cumming in his boxer briefs.

"You like that, you fucking pervert? Yeah, Sukuna? You like getting peed on? Well, I have more for you, my nasty boy."

You slide off him, hands grabbing his boxer briefs and pulling them down, finally freeing his aching cock. Sukuna groans when it springs up, bouncing lightly, rock-hard, pre-cum dripping down from it onto his abs.

You throw one leg over his thighs, kneeling over his stiff cock, and then more piss rains down from your hot cunt and onto Sukuna's cock.

And Sukuna moans and curses loudly as his back arches off the bed, and he cums all over himself, untouched, shooting hot ropes of cum out of his tip, all over his abs, and over your cunt that's hovering above him.

His vision goes black for a moment, and his breath comes out in loud, harsh huffs, his whole body shaking from the intensity of his orgasm. He thinks he never came so hard in his life.

You laugh and finally sit down on Sukuna's twitching cock, letting it glide between your wet folds, making him buck against you. But you don't let him push inside you. You just rub your wet cunt slowly over his spent length, watching with an amused smile as you milk every last spurt of cum out of Sukuna while you let more pee trickle over his cock, mixing his cum with your piss.

Sukuna's heart is beating so fast that he feels lightheaded. And the overstimulation makes him sob, makes his oversensitive cock ache and twitch, but oh, how he craves this sweet pain. He lets his head fall back on the pillow, letting more low moans spill from his lips, eyes closing as he pushes his slowly softening cock between your pussy lips, whimpering softly anytime that delicious pain pulses in his length.

He doesn't know how long it takes before you stop moving on him and slip off his lap. But he sighs when the sticky heat of your cunt leaves his cock.

The bed creaks as you crawl up to him to press a gentle kiss to his cheek, whispering in his ear,

"You are such a mess, Sukuna. Such a cute mess for me. I'm excited to see what else you can give me, my little fuckdoll."

You leave him lying there on top of the blanket, his cock pulsing hotly from the overstimulation, mind hazy with post-coital bliss, chest heaving with heavy breaths, skin sticky from his cum, and your squirt and pee.

It's disgusting, and he should feel embarrassed, but he can't help but moan softly as a small smile creeps over his face. Sukuna feels satisfied like he hasn't felt in months. He hopes you will use him again as your personal fucktoy very soon.

FUCKTOY SUKUNA, I WANT YOU 💗💗 I wrote the first draft of this story a while ago and then thought I wouldn't dare publish it because it's too nasty, but I changed my mind, lol. I hope it was ok and that my fellow sub!Sukuna enjoyers accept this treat ;)

There will be a second part!! The story got too long, and there would have been too many sex scenes, so I decided to split it.

Thank you so much for reading 💗 Reblogs and comments would be very sweet!

HERE IS PART 02

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna #sukuna smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna #tw piss #tw dark content

3K notes · View notes

dabisqueen · 6 months

Text

Pornstar!Dabi (Touya Todoroki) x female reader

⇢ word count: roughly 7K

⇢ plot: as a broke student, you sign up for an assistant job at a movie set. It turns out the job is more than you bargained for.

⇢ warnings: 18+, minors DNI, swearing, size kink, pierced big-cock Touya, fingering, cunnilingus (f receiving), multiple orgasms, loss of virginity, overstimulation, exhibitionism (sex in front of other people (movie set)), creampie, sweet aftercare

⇢ personal note: thank you @/blankexpressions-and-falsefires for bring my beta again! As for what you're all about to read – I have no regrets. Virgin kink goes brrr

"College has always been so crucial, such an essential part of what measures a person’s worth and determines their future."

They say college life is quite challenging. That it can help you come to realize your potential, that you learn more about yourself while in it. That the challenges you experience in university help you grow into a mature person in society.

You have several challenges to face. There's the problem that you focus entirely too much on your studies. In some ways, it’s to secure your future and to compensate for your lack of private life. In other ways, it makes you, because of inexperience, too naive for your own good. Or, as your friends have called it: too innocent. You've never had anyone touch you, never been with anyone in that way. Thus, you never get the hint when someone hits on you or finds you attractive. You have excellent grades – but unlike many of your peers, you’re still a virgin.

Another challenge you are facing is that you aren't wealthy. One semester into your studies, you are closer to the end than you expected. Leaving your landlord's buro, you take a few steps before coming to a halt and close your eyes as if to gain some semblance of composure. You're broke and desperately need money to cover your rent and living expenses. The bank isn't going to give you another loan, and you find yourself on the verge of having to leave college without a family to support your education.

They say you have to fail first to be successful in the future. But you are beyond failing – you are simply screwed.

You are very aware of your financial predicament. And you loathe having to live day to day on just pennies. To put it short—you are sick of being a broke-ass, loser virgin.

You sigh.

Giving up is not a choice. So you do the next best thing: grab life by the horns and start looking for a job. Searching under your bed, clothing pockets, and between couch cushions, you scrounge up enough money to get a local newspaper. In its classified ads, only a few offers deem themselves feasible with your busy school schedule: a late-night shift at a local diner, pizza delivery, or a job doing telemarketing. None of those sound too appealing, but there might not be a choice. Then, your gaze stops at an offer that sounds too good. A movie company is looking for a production assistant on a film set; you don't need prior experience, work hours are during the weekends, and pay is double what the other jobs offer.

You don’t think before hastily grabbing your phone, punching in the number, and waiting while the dial tone rings.

After a distinct click over the other line, a man hisses, "Shimura?"

"Uhm, hi. I- I am calling about the assistant job offer. I was wondering—"

"You're hired. Tomorrow at 5 pm," the man at the other end interrupts in an annoyed tone.

He rattles off the address as you fumble around for a pen, hastily writing it down when you find it.

Before you can reply, he finishes with Don't be late and hangs up unceremoniously.

You exhale, realizing you’ve been holding your breath since he started speaking.

What the hell just happened?

***

The path to the location is littered with brown leaves, and you struggle to keep from slipping as you walk toward the building. The address given to you is an old warehouse on the edge of town. Its monotonous, featureless walls covered in graffiti make it feel abandoned. There are no visible signs that anything is happening inside at all.

As you walk across the parking lot, you start to see small indications of life: fancy cars—far too fancy for this area- and sensual music permeating through the corrugated steel walls.

You weren’t sure how to dress for a job you knew nothing about, so you opted for blue jeans, a white blouse, and pointy shoes with heels. Your hair is tied into a neat ponytail, and simple smokey eyes complete the look.

You aim for a large steel door that the cars are all parked close to. As you lift your head, you take in the old brick building you are standing in front of, lined with large casement metal windows.

There is a single doorbell, no name on it, and you hesitate before inhaling and pressing it with the tip of your finger.

You hear a clicking sound, and then the heavy door swings inwards.

Alright, here goes nothing.

***

The set is surprisingly professional—like a luxurious bedroom sliced in half. A row of chairs faces the set on a concrete floor behind multiple cameras and some sound equipment, with the crew standing around talking.

The producer, Tenko, as he introduces himself to you–with tufts of pale hair and seemingly chronic dry lips in dire need of some chapstick – explains that your job will consist of helping around the set, distributing beverages, and handing out the script. Simple work you could do. After introducing you to the crew, he hands you a stack of papers, instructing you to pass them out.

Then you see her—the actress. She is gorgeous, dressed in an ivory-colored silk robe. Her hair is the color of the sun. Her skin is flawless and tanned, and her body is perfect- although almost definitely sculpted by a professional surgeon.

"Where the fuck is he?" You hear Tenko grumble, pulling a phone from his pocket, thumb tapping against the screen.

A flurry of activity breaks your concentration. A door flies open, and a man strides through—the leading actor, you gather, from how everyone else suddenly perks up.

"Fucking finally," the pale-haired director groans, tucking his cell back into the pocket of his jacket.

The man's hair is coal-colored, falling in messy strands into his face. His eyes remind you of the bright ocean, almost glowing in the dim light of the set. His sharp lips pull into a wide grin, his canines peeking out. He is casually dressed, wearing a pair of dark, ripped jeans and a white t-shirt, allowing you to notice just how well-toned his arms are. He is handsome, with delicate yet masculine features and sharp angles set in his face. His eyes are heavy-lidded, and his thin lips form a troublesome grin when his eyes meet yours.

Shit.

He holds your gaze before dragging his sinfully blue eyes over your figure and looking away again. Your heart skips a beat because even in the low light, you can see that the actor is incredibly hot. Totally your type. You can't help but stare at him, watching how he moves, the way his muscles ripple under the thin fabric of his shirt, the way his thighs bulge in his tight pants.

Speaking of bulge.

It's the biggest one you've ever seen, and the sight of it sends a pang straight to your core. Your cheeks heat up automatically.

Stop it!

You curse inwardly a few times for thinking lewd thoughts on a professional movie set.

But—you can't help it. He just looks too handsome. It stirs something inside of you you've never felt before. You sigh, knowing that this man has already made his way into your dreams, but in the end, they’ll stay just that— dreams.

Someone like him would never want to lay a hand on you.

As he approaches the stage, the man stops dead in his tracks, staring at the actress with a bored expression.

“Not her again.” You hear him groan.

The actress snaps her head around, a stunned expression on her face. “Pardon me?”

"The script calls for an innocent girl." The actor deadpans. "No one's gonna believe that with you in the female role."

The actress jumps to her feet. “How dare you talk about me like that!”

Tenko hisses, “Didn't you read the script? You would have known you film with her today, Touya—"

“I told you not to use my real name on set,” he says with a blase, somewhat impatient gaze.

“And I told you not to let out your frustration on the set, Dabi.” The director retorts.

“Frustration caused by your actions.” Dabi deadpans.

You hold your breath as your eyes dart from the director to Dabi and back to the actress. The rest of the crew acts like this is an everyday commotion on the set.

“This is not a request— I'm not doing the scene with her, " Dabi says, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

The actress jumps from her chair, visibly outraged, as her cheeks flare red with anger. “You're such a dick!”

“Yeah, you're right. But I’m the best dick in the industry.” He turns around, a sardonic finality in his tone.

You stare at the scene before you, the forgotten papers clutched tightly to your chest. The blonde woman stares at the dark-haired man, infuriated.

“So, it's either me—or her.” Dabi addresses Tenko, who isn't even trying to de-escalate the situation. “That's my final say.”

“I can't believe you're doing this to me!" The woman wails exaggeratedly.

"Sweetheart, we need someone who conveys innocence. Not some chick as fake-looking as you," Dabi purrs with false care. “Go carry your plastic off the stage already.”

Tenko scratches his neck in annoyance. He watches as the actress slings an array of profanities at Dabi before storming off with quick strides toward the door, slamming it shut behind her.

The dark-haired man stands at ease, reaching into his pants pocket to retrieve a cigarette, lighting it, and taking a deep drag. “Thank god she's gone. What were you thinking, Tenko?”

“Dabi, she's the most requested—”

“I don't give a fuck.” he runs a free hand through his dark bangs. “She sucks.”

You listen to them bicker, getting more confused by the second.

“So—what do you expect me to do now?” Tenko's scratching increases as he starts pacing up and down the set. “Production costs will double if we cut and pick things up on a different day. Not to mention the cost of finding a new replacement.”

He jumps off his chair, pacing around the set. Then he grumbles, “We’ll take a ten-minute break. I need to come up with a solution or else—”

“We need someone Pretty, no makeup, normal clothes.” Dabi suggests, "That won't be too expensive. Someone who looks undefiled, innocent.” Dabi's gaze wanders across the room. “Like a student or something.”

Then he sees you, and a smirk tugs at his lips. His stunning sapphire eyes look you up and down. You swallow hard, your shaking hands almost crumpling the papers in their tight grip.

"Like her." Teal eyes narrow as they focus on you.

You blink back at him dumbly, the room around you completely silent.

"Me?" You answer, his words catching you off guard.

"Yep. You." Dabi's smirk returns, a playfulness in his eyes.

The director stares at you with the same baffled expression written on your face. "Her?"

"Yep. Her." His grin widens.

"B-But, I can't!" You counter. " I'm a simple student, not an actress—"

"That's exactly what we need." The twinkle in his eyes is still there, "And you have a pussy, don't you?"

"Yes, I—” You catch yourself, your cheeks flaring hot. “W- What does that even have to do with this movie?"

Suddenly, the room goes alive with murmurs and whispers.

Dabi quirks a brow. "You're telling me you don't know?"

"Don't know what?" You helplessly look around.

The dark-haired man turns to his director, "You didn't tell her?!"

Tenko mumbles something about how you would have found out eventually.

Dabi steps toward you and crosses his arms in front of his chest. "Doll, this is an adult film set."

"A what?" You dumbly blink at him.

"An adult film set. You know, where people fuck." He leans forward, deep azures sparkling salaciously. "You know how fucking works, don't you?"

"Yes, I mean—in theory?" A heat washes over your face and flushes down your entire body.

"Yes or no. What is it?" Dabi asks teasingly, raising an eyebrow.

The heat in your face has reached the tip of your ears as you stammer. "It's none of your business."

He steps even closer. "C’mon, sweetheart, tell us."

He smirks, eyes narrowing as he leans closer. He looks at your lips, then back at your eyes. You can smell him with how close he is leaning in. His deep, masculine scent surrounds you, sending a jolt of heat straight through your core. Even though your mind wants to scream at him, to tell him off, you hear a timid voice whisper, "I’ve used my fingers? Maybe some toys?"

It is your voice.

"You're telling me you've never done it with another person?" This time, it is Dabi’s turn to sound baffled as he leans back, taking you in. "That you're a virgin."

"I-I…" You stammer, swallowing dryly.

Looking over his shoulders, he calls over to his director, "It'll break records if we film this. You're aware of that, right?"

"I am." Tenko snaps, scratching at his neck irritably, "You don't need to tell me."

"Ok, then it's a deal.” He nods towards you. “I want her—or I'm leaving."

"You little piece of—" Tenko growls. "That's extortion."

"You won't regret it," Dabi says, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Shouldn’t I have a say on this too?" You ask, but both men ignore your words.

"Ok, it's a deal," Tenko murmurs. "How much do we pay her?"

Dabi turns his gaze back to you. "You need money, right? Or else you wouldn't be here.”

"That’s none of your business."

"C'mon, sweetheart, This is your chance."

“Yes, I mean… " a sound of annoyance bubbles up your throat. "I can't afford my rent anymore, and my landlord will kick me out if I don't pay up soon."

“I sense an opportunity here," Dabi smirks. "Tenko, how much will you pay her if she agrees to do this with me?"

"How much do you want?" Tenko asks you.

“I-I don't know. I've never thought about it." You shyly add.

"Pay her rent plus an allowance," Dabi suggests. "Tenko, you know she's worth it."

"That’s too m—" You swallow hard.

Tenko mumbles disgruntledly: "OK, I'll do it.”

“You what?" His words leave you stunned.

Dabi interrupts quickly. "What he's saying, sweetheart, is that he'll pay for your rent - if you let me fuck you.”

His lewd words and the deep blue pools of his stunning eyes send a flutter through your stomach.

“In front of all these people?!"

“That's what porn is all about, doll.” Dabi chuckles, studying your reaction.

You swallow hard.

"So? What's it gonna be?" He cocks his head, waiting.

You have always prioritized safety, so common sense tells you to stick to your usual way of life. However, look where common sense has led you: You're almost broke and may need to drop out of college.

This could be a bad decision. But, it's time to throw safety to the sea.

"OK, I'll do it," you proclaim, and a round of applause and cheers erupt on the set while Dabi nods appreciatively.

“Congratulations, you're hired. Now, get ready before I change my mind.” Tenko waves a hand. “We still have a movie to film here.”

Your heart starts to race, a crushing weight bearing down on your chest. But you know that you have no choice. It's either a free porn loan—or being a forced college dropout. Taking a deep breath, you ball your hands into fists, trying to ignore the signs of panic your body is giving you.

"Okay, everyone, resume positions. And hand her the script.” Tenko moves to his chair, sitting down in it. “Let's do the first take."

"Hold on," Dabi says. "Why not do it a bit differently this time? No script, no acting— just raw footage. The whole thing.”

“You mean a one-shot film?” Tenko looks surprised. “I suppose that would work. Especially with a new actress.”

“Are you okay with that, doll?” Dabi smiles at you, and there's a warmth in his voice that wasn't there before.

“Do I have a choice?” you sigh.

“Not really.” He winks.

"Are you two lovebirds done flirting over there? " Tenko asks, " Because we're ready to film.”

“We weren't flir—” you protest, but Dabi bridges the distance between you.

"So, sweetheart?" He leans in, his face hovering close, sharing a breath with you. "How are you feeling about being fucked on camera?"

“Nervous.” you bite your lips, your face starting to burn.

"Doll, don't be; just focus on me," he soothes, stroking your cheek. “Forget about everyone else; I'll take care of you.”

He takes your hand and pulls you towards the bedroom set.

“Quiet!” Tenko raises a hand, and complete silence falls over the set as the crew prepares to film you both.

Tenko calls out a set of commands, which different crew members around the room answer.

“Sound?”

“Set.”

“Camera?”

“Set.”

“Roll sound.”

“Sound rolling.”

“Roll camera.”

“Camera Speed.”

“Marker.”

A man with a clapper board enters the scene and calls, "Scene one. Take—uhm— whatever."

Dabi nods, and that is the cue. The lights dim, and the cameras vanish into the darkness; only the red lights betray their existence.

You glance around, your stomach in knots, as you realize that this is no game, that this is it. The only thing visibly lit was the bed standing a few feet away. The crew's faces are barely visible as everyone watches you, the man behind the camera tilting it, filming you from bottom to top.

“Hey baby, you alright?” You hear Dabi's voice.

“N-No, not really.” You stammer, your hands trembling, your breathing picking up, as your eyes frantically dart around the dark set. “I don't know if I can do this.”

“Sweetheart, look at me.” You feel a finger hook under your chin when Dabi tilts your head to meet his gaze. It's intense, the turquoise of his irises gleaming almost unnaturally.

You feel your heart sink into your stomach as his thumb caresses your skin. When he closes the already minimal distance between you, your eyes flutter close in reflex. His lips are sensually warm and addicting against your cheek, and your heart starts thrashing wildly inside your chest in response. Something changes between you, an intimacy blooming as the voices of the people mute.

It's all you need to distract your mind, to make your body heat up. Not with anxiety—

—but in anticipation.

“Are you ready to give me your virginity?” His low voice rumbles close to your ear.

You nod, like in a haze, every caress of his lips causes your skin to tingle, to burn with passion. He shifts, and you feel him faintly brush your lips, and a zap of electricity courses through your veins. Then, your lips are united in his first tentative kiss. They are so soft, and the way he kisses you is so delicate, almost tender— deliberately slow.

You relax, giving in to how wonderful this feels. His tongue slowly traces the shape of your lips, and you feel your brain short-circuiting. Angling your head to the side, you part your lips, begging him to enter. Dabi reacts instantly, his tongue slipping your mouth, delving deeper, tasting you, consuming you.

You groan—how could a man taste so good?

It makes your knees buckle, and you start panting into his mouth, your instincts taking over, your body reacting to his touch. A desire, a passion, awakens like a wild animal roaring, and you feel a wave of arousal pool in your panties. You can't help it, and you slide your hand underneath his shirt, your other hand circling his neck. You can feel him smirking into the kiss, but the sound carries off into a groan when you rake your nails down the small of his back.

As he breaks away, a warmth lingers between you and him while he admires your wet, pink, swollen lips, "A little eager for your first time, huh?"

The kiss leaves you dizzy, and you can't seem to form an answer, too stricken by his closeness and intoxicating scent.

The moment passes, and then his lips smash against yours so fast you don't even have time to react. He presses his hips against yours, his clothed hardness grazing against your heat, letting you feel just how hard you’ve made him.

Holy shit.

He's not gentle anymore; he's rough and demanding now. He is taking you, enjoying the shaky gasps that leave your lips. Dabi’s hands trail down your side to find your ass cheeks. He lifts you by the thighs onto his waist skillfully, never breaking the kiss. Carrying you easily toward the bed he releases his hold and you topple onto it, panting heavily.

The lights around you heat the air, and you notice one camera panning across the set while the other tracks toward you on a dolly. Just as your heart starts picking up an anxious speed again, you see a movement to the side. Dabi yanks his shirt above his head, the muscles in his stomach flexing with every movement.

The second the fabric touches the floor, he's on you with his lips pressed to yours and his tongue in your mouth. You feel yourself getting lost in the moment of passion and all you can see is him. Your stomach somersaults and the world around you ceases to exist; it is just you and him— the people around you and the cameras wholly forgotten. The world, right now, only revolves around the two of you.

“You taste so fucking good,” he breathes into your mouth, hazy eyes glowing with arousal. "How do you taste so fucking good?”

You feel his hand sneak underneath your shirt to slowly pull it off over your head. Next, he skillfully removes the rest of your clothes off until you are lying below him, sex and breasts cupped by delicate cotton underwear.

“Look at that,” he muses. “So innocent.”

Sliding his hand behind your back, he unhooks the bra with an expert pinch of his fingers. Your breasts spill out as he slides the straps off your shoulders, tossing it aside. Then his gaze lingers on your soft, round tits.

“Damn,” he cups them and squeezes them gently, “Where have you been hiding, girl? You're perfect.”

He slides his fingers over your nipples and a low moan tears from your throat. Dabi lets out a low rumble as his hands continue to work your breasts, rubbing and plucking at your stiffening nipples. There’s a deep throb low in your body, pulsing between your thighs, and you're startled at the way you’re reacting. You are so turned on—his touch only adds to your body’s cravings, and as his large palms glide over your breasts; it pulls the breath from your lungs as it simultaneously fuels your desire. His thumbs drag over your nipples again, rolling it between his fingers before leaning down to lick at your pebbled nub. He makes you feel breathless with excitement the more he focuses on toying with your breasts, rolling the tips back and forth between his thumb and forefinger.

It makes you crazy with need until you're aching, shivering throughout your entire body. You're gasping for breath the entire time Dabi has his lips wrapped around your erect nub, sucking it to send a tingling sensation straight through to your core. Then he's biting just hard enough to make you squeal before soothing the puckered nub with a flick of his tongue.

“You’ve got the most amazing tits,’ Dabi murmurs against your skin. “So soft and full. So natural.”

While he switches from pliant nipple to pliant nipple, you feel a stray hand hook its fingers under the seams of your panties. He releases your nipple with a pop and peppers kisses down to your tummy while he adeptly pulls the little piece of fabric down and off your legs. You're now utterly naked below him while Dabi continues revering your body with wet kisses and nibbles, moving downward until you feel his warm breath on your pubic mound. He spreads your trembling legs, his eyes glazing over your pussy, pupils expanding and then retracting into pin slits.

"Look at that pretty pussy." His breath is hot against your soaked folds. "And so fucking wet—you're dripping."

A shameful sound spills from your lips at his words, and you writhe in his hold. But his hands keep you in place.

"You're seriously telling me,” he slides his fingers up and down your glistening folds, “No one's been here before?"

You squirm below him as a camera zooms in on where Dabi’s eyes are affixed– between your thighs.

“Cause you have the prettiest pussy I've ever seen.” He snickers. “And I've seen a lot.”

His warm, calloused fingers slide up and down your slippery folds, his hot breath fanning over your sex. Then he spreads apart your sweet lips; it makes you shudder in anticipation, and Dabi chuckles.

“I can see you twitching for me.” A finger sinks in, making you arch your back the deeper it goes.

The camera behind him zooms in on your blushing face, and you cover it with trembling hands.

"Nu-uh, no hiding. Look at me." He slaps your clit lightly—making you jolt. "Let us see your pretty face."

You whimper softly, because you've touched yourself before—

—but this just feels so much more intense.

“Dabi—” you choke out, flinching in pleasure when he slides a hand underneath your ass,

raising your hips to have more access to you.

“Relax, baby, I'll take care of you.” A growl tears from his throat, and then he drags his tongue over your gleaming folds, tasting you.

You cry out, your body shuddering. Over and over, Dabi licks you with deep, claiming strokes, using his tongue to explore every bit of you.

“Damn, you taste better than anything I've ever tasted.” He pushes his wet muscle into your core, frantic to have more of you.

“Oh my God. Dabi!” Your toes curl, and your thighs tighten around him. You're both – startled and aroused at his eagerness. Any worries you have are melting away as he drags his tongue over you again and again, making you squirm with need.

A moan escapes your lips– loud, uncontrolled– when his tongue flicks over your folds. When he grazes your little button, you jolt as if you've been stung.

He hums appreciatively and buries his face into your warmth, seeking out that sweet nub. Your body jerks as he moves his tongue over it, repeating the action when he does it again. You give a little wail, and your hands curl into the fabric the longer he teases. He eagerly works that spot, and you cry out with little choked gasps.

As his tongue circles your clitoris, your sensations spiral out of control. You can feel the tension increasing in your body with a growing urgency to be released.

“Dabi,” you pant with every flick of his tongue. But he doesn't respond, does not hear– or pretends not to. He buries his face in your folds, hands holding you down by your hips.

With every quiver that moves through your body, with every shiver of response, every tensing of your muscles, you draw closer to the edge.

You writhe against Dabi, with his face between your thighs, lapping at your juices. All the while, he continues to work your little clit with his tongue in slow, steady strokes.

Suddenly, the feeling that you’re about to cum overwhelms you. Your pussy clenches, dripping with your juices, and your clit is ready to burst.

Your hips jerk against him, and then a release explodes in your mind, your thoughts crashing all around you. You come with a slight scream that morphs into a moan, but Dabi does not stop his ministrations—

—no.

He continues to lick and suck as you come and come and come.

It's too much; you feel like exploding. You’re a moaning mess, fingers slipping between Dabi’s strands, pushing and pulling at his roots unsure if you can take it if he keeps going like that.

Your entire body is on fire. The orgasm continues to surge through you– more intense than anything you’ve experienced by yourself– with Dabi gently sucking and licking at your clit. You are delirious, feel like you are floating with no way to find your path back to earth.

“Dabi, please—” you choke out.

Dabi’s mouth detaches from your overstimulated nub and straightens up, licking your cum’s sweetness off his lips. Crawling on top of you, he gazes into your eyes. “Doll, tell me—what do you want me to do?”

You see his jeans straining from the bulk of his erection and swallow, your body responding with a flood of hormones.

“Please fuck me,” you whisper, thinking in ways you never have before.

You want to beg him to be gentle, but you can’t seem to form the words when you see him unbuckle his belt before unzipping his jeans, his eyes carefully watching your expression as he does. His cock springs to life, and you swallow thickly. It's enormous—and pierced.

You feel a momentary pang of doubt, questioning if that monster will even fit inside you. The previous excitement and adrenaline pumping through your veins gradually turn to panic. Your breathing picks up as you stare at his cock, wide-eyed.

“You look worried,” Dabi says, stroking it with one hand. His raised eyebrows and amused grin tell you he's used to this type of reaction.

“Are you sure…” you nod towards his cock.

“Trust me,” he says. “I’ll make sure you feel good. It’ll be the greatest thing you'll ever experience.”

Your entire body yearns for his touch, and there’s no way you're saying no now. He’s spreading you wide open, hands on your knees, before he moves to hold himself in hand to align his cock with your entrance.

"Do you want me to fuck you?’ Dabi asks as he drags the head of the tip up and down your slit.

“‘S not gonna fit,” you whine with a worried expression.

“Don't be scared,” Dabi says, "I know what I'm doing. So, you'll be a good girl and take it all, right?”

“I'm not sure,” you whisper.

“I know you can...” His eyes stare at you with a desire so intense that you almost feel intimidated.

He’s spreading you wide open, hands on your knees, before he moves one to hold himself and align his cock to your entrance. The pressure between your legs increases as Dabi nudges the pierced tip of his cock against you.

“Get ready,” he whispers.

A mix of a gasp and a cry leaves your lips as Dabi strains against you, feeling like he’s trying to shove a massive pole inside of you. You squeeze your eyes shut as tears gather in your lashes, and Dabi holds back, kissing you, waiting for you to relax.

“Easy,” he says softly, “I’ve got you.”

The softness of his tone relaxes you and the tension in your shoulders lessens. Then, somehow, something gives way, and he enters you. You gasp, your body opening up to accommodate the massive dick that is now sliding inside of you.

"Oh my god—” You throw your head back, hands clawing at his shoulders in a weak attempt to push him away.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight,” he hisses, eyebrows furrowing before he hits resistance and then pushes forward.

There’s a sharp pain slicing through your core, and you don't know if it's from the stretch or a tear. Probably both. It hurts, and you squeeze your eyes shut, forcing tears down your cheek. Dabi continues to push his hips forward, only stopping once he’s entirely inside, heavy balls pressed against the crease of your ass. The cameras zoom in on the bulge in your womb, where his dick sits buried deep inside of you. But you don't notice them, your brain too consumed by him filling you up, his whole weight resting against you.

“You ok?” Breathing heavily, he drags his eyes back and forth over your face.

“Gimme a sec.” Your lips press into a thin line as the pain from the stretch slowly turns into a dull throb. After a moment, you nod...

"I'm gonna start moving now," Dabi says— and then does precisely that.

Just as you start to feel your body relaxing, he withdraws, only to plunge himself in again. The sudden shock of the movement is incredible. You feel every ridge, every single thick vein. It feels fantastic, and as he slowly slides back in, you can appreciate every inch of his cock. He starts an even rhythm, rocking inside you gently.

“Shit, just squeezed me so fucking tight,” he moans in response. "I’m warning you, don't make me lose my composure. You don’t want to see me act up.”

Your mind feels detached from your body; you don't hear him, don't even notice the camera zooming in, focusing on how your face scrunches and your lips quiver because of how good he makes you feel.

He grabs you by the waist and brings you closer to him. Raising both legs in the air, he pushes them forward until your body is folded in half.

“Oh—shit—” You choke out, the walls of your sex stretching to accommodate him.

“I’m gonna make you cum,” Dabi is panting hard as he starts driving his cock rapidly in and out of you. “You won't be able to walk for days.”

“I-I can’t—” your jaw slackens as you tighten around his dick again, the ability to form comprehensive answers having left you the moment he breached your walls.

He rams himself deeper while his fingers slip between your strands, guiding your face upward, your mouths colliding in a frantic kiss.

It starts as a slow burn that gradually builds into a white, blistering heat. A feeling begins coursing through you, making you lose control of your body. You tense and arch your back, your head digging back into the pillow, voice caught in your throat. And just when you think you can't take it anymore, all that tension releases, and you cry out loud, a turbulent wave of pleasure hitting you like a storm. All your nerve endings are seemingly set ablaze while Dabi fucks you through your orgasm.

His eyes are wide with wonder, hearing and feeling you come undone around him. The way your eyes are shut tightly in pleasure, your entire body trembling and shaking in ecstasy, is the best thing he's ever seen. It makes his chest swell with pride. Still, it feels like it's not enough, though, and he needs more. He wants to own you, possess you, make you his.

Dabi snaps.

With a suppressed growl, Dabi grabs you by your hips and flips you over onto your stomach. He's not letting you catch your breath before he propels his cock back inside you again. His hand slides from the dip in your spine to the spot between your shoulder blades, pressing down until your face is buried in the sheets. At this angle, he reaches even deeper than before, his piercings rubbing your G-spot just right. Your hands tightly fist the soft duvet with every drive of his hips, knocking the air from your lungs.

Dabi seems delirious, pistoning in and out of you now. Reaching forward, he gathers your hair around his fist, tugging it to keep you in place, forcing your head up from the sheets. You sob out his name, your chin and cheeks covered with your drool and tears.

But Dabi is drowning too deep in pleasure to notice.

"I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll never think of anyone but me in your fantasies," Dabi growls while your elbows shake under the pressure of his forceful thrusts.

Slowly, your mind is falling apart with the pleasure pulsing through your body. Dabi starts drilling his big cock into your even faster now. You tremble below him, thighs quivering when you feel another orgasm building up.

“You gonna cum for me again, princess?” Dabi groans, “I can feel your pussy clenching around me.”

You nod, too exhausted to form any words. Dabi tightens his hold on your hip, fingers digging into your plush skin, holding you still.

“I’m gonna cum with you,” he tells you. “I’m gonna fill up your tight hole, gonna breed you so good—fuck!”

"Please—" you whimper pathetically, finding yourself trapped in his lewd promises.

And then you lose it, feeling like the world is disappearing underneath your feet. Pleasure rips through you, leaving you with no strength. It’s an intense tingling pleasure that starts in your core and spreads through your whole body, from your fingertips down to your toes. It's all-consuming and euphoric, your body not knowing what to do with that much sensation at once.

You feel your body falling off a cliff into a pile of tingling ecstasy as you cum again with a broken whimper escaping your lips. The orgasm is even more potent than the last ones, like a massive burst of pleasure; all that tension explodes and shoots up the back of your legs and everywhere else. You moan and shudder, your pussy clamping around his cock.

“That’s it,” Dabi lets out a long, shuddering groan. “Just like that.”

You forget to breathe while Dabi keeps fucking your harder and harder, feral with desire, shoving his cock as deep inside you as he can.

“Oh fuck—” You gasp out, arching your back, fingers twisting against the sheets.

No sooner have the words slipped from your lips that you feel your whole body lock tight again—and then unravel. You forget to breathe as an unending cascade of euphoria detonates deep inside of you. You come undone, shaking uncontrollably as juices gush from your pussy, dripping down Dabis balls, drenching the sheets below.

Dabi groans, his eyes screwing shut, head dropping back. With one final possessive thrust of his hips, he cums, shooting his seed deep inside you. You feel his cock twitch as he moans heavily, eyebrows sewn together. His body is shuddering, his hips hitching while he rides out his orgasm.

You’re faintly aware of your surroundings, buried too deeply in your bliss. Unable to take any more pleasure, you slump backward. Dabi slides his softening cock from you with an obscene wet sound before dropping down onto the bed beside you, taking you with him.

“Fuck…” he breathed out, caressing your skin. “That felt so—”

‘And—cut!’ You hear a voice call, speaking its way into the mush that is your brain, slapping you back to reality.

You open your eyes and look around in shock, having completely forgotten where you are. The lights switch on, almost blindingly bright. People start hustling about the set, and cameras mere inches away from you now pull back into their waiting positions.

“That was perfect,” you hear Tenko say through the noise filling the set now.

Your breath catches in your throat, an unsettling feeling beginning to well inside you. Your heart starts pounding at an increasingly rapid pace while you feel panic stretch its icy fingers up your spine.

You feel a warm hand cradling your face, angling it to the side. It’s Dabi. He places his mouth over yours without further ado.

“You are perfect.” Dabi coos into the kiss, and it happens again— butterflies erupt in your gut, the world around you fading until there's only you and him.

Instinctively, you let go, feeling the tension slowly dissipate and your heart calming down. Dabi smiles as he breaks away from you, and you feel it— a lingering warmth, an unseen connection that spins fragile threads between you both.

A man approaches to help you get out of bed, but Dabi, whose face is still dewy with sweat, moves between you both. He takes the bathrobe from the guy and wraps it around your shivering body before getting dressed himself.

Helping you off the bed, he drapes an arm around your shoulder and leads you past the celebrating crew members from the set until you’re backstage.

Once in the changing room, he closes the door behind him and leans against it.

“That was something…” he muses. “You’re a natural. Would you ever consider doing this again with me?’

You're caught off-guard, his face radiating a tenderness that fills your heart with something joyful. A warmth spreads across your face, your hands gripping the soft belt of your robe as you nip at your lower lip. “I-I don't know.”

“You should,” Dabi kicks off the door frame and saunters over you with a sinful, obscene sway of his hips. His hand finds yours, fingers interlacing in a silent agreement, pulling you into a tight embrace. “Think about it…”

He lets the words hang in the air for a second. When he pulls away, his arms wrap around your neck, lower half still pressed against you as if you’re not a stranger. He looks down at you like the two of you have been dating for years.

“So, I was wondering… what are you doing later on?” Dabi kisses the tip of your nose. “Do you want to grab a bite to eat and get some drinks?”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” A new desire for him grows inside of you. You smile back at him, reaching up to gently play with his dark hair.

“Maybe?” His lips curl into a devious smirk.

“Is this even allowed?” Chest to chest, your heartbeat slowly catches up to his, as if your bodies react simultaneously to each other's warm touch.

“Maybe?” Dabi repeats, his thumb gently brushing along your lips.

When you look into his eyes, a tenderness softens the rough edges of his sharp features. It makes you wonder, he’s been so sweet and caring after everything that happened today– you actually believe he’s a genuinely sincere and nice guy. You feel your heart quiet when you’re with him, as if you have found peace.

“Well…” you consider, “I've just thrown all my morals into the wind. So, might as well go on a date with a pornstar, right?”

“You won't regret it.” Dabis laughs softly. “Even though you might not be able to move after I'm done with you—”

“Is that so…” You are torn between scolding him or laughing because he's so cute. “Ok, big boy, whatever you say.”

#dabi smut #dabi x you #dabi x reader #dabi #dabi todoroki #bnha dabi #mha dabi #dabi my hero academia #touya todoroki #todoroki touya #dabi fanfic #dabi x y/n #mha au #mha smut #bnha smut #dabi x reader smut #dabi x you smut

5K notes · View notes

bayjaruchel · 7 months

Text

Underneath The Strobe Light

－－－

Pairing: Mike Schmidt (2023)/AFAB Reader

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You're aware of your feelings for Mike, but you're unsure if he feels the same. A single late-night conversation changes everything. (4.2k | originally posted on ao3 | Masterlist )

Extra Notes: Posted October 29, 2023

－－－

You know Mike, sometimes. Mainly in bits and pieces.

You know he has that poster of Nebraska above his bed; you know he's got a soft spot for terrible eighties cartoons. You know he likes his steak well done. Maybe it's generally useless information — but you've tucked it all away in a dear corner of your brain, in a well-worn cardboard box with his name scrawled fondly on the side in Sharpie.

He's been busy nowadays, especially with his awful new job at that abandoned restaurant. You've always been there if he needs someone to watch over Abby. It's a strange juxtaposition— spending more and more time at his house, but spending less and less time actually talking to him. But you know he's exhausted, both mentally and physically.

You don't expect much. You don't need much. Even though Mike's always offered to actually pay you for babysitting Abby, you've always declined.

However— needing and wanting are two very different things.

And you want. So, so much.

Sitting here, on the couch in his living room, your mind always wanders back to him. Abby's a really nice kid, even if she's a little on the eccentric side. Whenever you're sitting with her, watching her draw or watching the television, you can't really focus on Mike. But now, with her safely put to bed … There's nothing to stop you. Nothing to distract you from the empty spot next to you on the couch.

You blink, already bleary-eyed from the hour. There's some mediocre sitcom playing on the television. It's practically white noise, and you can feel yourself slowly but surely being lulled to sleep. The stubborn part of you wants to fight it. The tired part of you wants to just let it happen. You fumble for the remote instead, switching the channel.

World News Now?

Not bad, you think wryly, slumping back into the pillows. You liked the guy playing the accordion and singing about the news, polka-style. Hopefully they'll bring that back. Maybe large broadcasting networks actually do know their audiences.

Yeah, no.

You stifle a yawn, tugging your blanket a little tighter. The room's dark, so the only real sources of light are coming from the kitchen and the bluish glow of the television. The only sounds besides that of the T.V. are the occasional car passing by, joined by the gentle chorus of crickets. It's quiet, but not in a discomforting way.

It's kind of perfect. Like your own little bubble in the world. Untouchable. Not until the sun rises, anyway.

Your bubble suddenly pops when a car pulls into the driveway, tires crunching on the pavement, and your heart skips.

It couldn't be anyone else.

About a minute later, there's the sound of keys turning in the lock. The door swings open and then shuts behind him. Softly. He knows Abby would wake up if he slammed it. Then there's the thump of him setting down his stuff— carelessly.

The couch cushions squeak a little when Mike sits down next to you. Silently. He's gotten rid of that stupid security vest.

"Hey," you offer.

"Hi," he obliges.

You're sure he's not really paying attention to the T.V. "How was work?"

It's bland small talk at best, and brutally annoying at worst. But it's the only way to move into interesting conversation territory. And he didn't just trudge past you to go flop down on his bed, so you're assuming he does want to talk. You might pretend not to know, but you're well aware of his social life— or lack thereof. Everyone needs to talk, sometimes.

"Pretty dull." Rolling his probably stiff shoulders, he lets out a small sound of discomfort. Sheepishly, he murmurs: "I kind of … I kind of just napped, to be honest."

"Aren't you supposed to be a security guard?" You tease. "That's a really important job, you know. You have to stop all the dangerous teenagers from breaking in and spray-painting dicks on the walls."

He huffs out something reminiscent of a laugh. "Honestly, the pay's too low to take it seriously."

"And yet … "

"There weren't any kids, okay?" Mike shakes his head. When you turn to look at him, though, he's smiling. It's faint, but it's there. "No dangerous teenagers that I had to fight off. It was fine."

"Fine?"

"Fine."

You don't want to let the silence set in.

"Oh, yeah, we finished the leftover spaghetti earlier. For dinner. I hope that's okay."

"No, it's terrible," he deadpans. "I hate you."

"Asshole."

"Whatever." Mike snickers, and you bask in its gloriousness. "Yeah, it's okay. I know that I probably wouldn't have eaten it anyway. Did you, uh … " He pauses for a split second. "… Did you like it?"

His tone makes you wonder, but you hastily brush it off. "Yeah, I did," you clarify, "the sauce was pretty great. Was it store-bought, or?" Because if it was, then where can I get it?

"Yup," he replies, popping the 'p'. "Great stuff, for something that's canned. But I always add a little more garlic powder, too."

"Oh, really?"

Mike hums an affirmation. "It's like magic, I'm telling you. Doesn't even take a lot to add flavor."

"That's cool." You rustle with your blanket again, adjusting it more out of habit than anything else. That, and it's kind of cold. "I'll try and remember it for later."

He's almost cheeky when he speaks.

"It's life-changing."

You can't help but snort. "You sound like an addict."

Incredulously, he glances at you. "To what? Garlic powder?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"I can't believe that you'd say that." He slowly shakes his head, for the second time in the span of roughly a minute. "Especially as someone who's experienced it firsthand—"

"—you're the one talking about how life-changing it is—"

"—you can't possibly ignore the irresistible savoriness of garlic powder."

You look at one another for a moment. The sheer absurdity of the situation sets in all at once. And, well. He starts giggling, and you can't hold it in, either. How could you? Even though he looks at least part zombie, his eyes are still very much alive. Despite the blatant awkwardness and lingering shyness that always follows him around, he's still got a very contagious laugh.

After you both calm down, he lets out a long sigh.

"It's getting really late."

You cling to what little stubbornness remains. "Yeah?"

"Are you gonna head home?"

Again, there's something there. Despite his nonchalant attitude, it's almost like—

—but you're probably overthinking. Wouldn't be anything new. He has to get some rest, and so do you. The drowsiness repeatedly threatening to tug your eyelids closed is a testament to that. Normally, you'd just pass out on the couch or something, and take off early in the morning; before Mike and Abby wake up. But now, it's different. Now, you actually have to make a choice before your sleepy body makes it for you.

"Um." You rub your eyes again. "I mean. I could, if it's bothering you—"

"It's not."

He interrupts you so quickly that it catches you off-guard. It seemingly catches him off-guard, too, judging by the way he promptly averts his gaze and pretends to care about the guy on the television going on about some sort of plumber strike in the city.

"Oh." You need a second to process. "Oh, okay. Well, in that case … I don't really think that it'd be safe for me to drive right now." You laugh, a little too airily for it to be completely genuine. "I'd probably fall asleep at the wheel or something." At least that's the truth. "I'll just take the couch. As usual."

"Okay," he says. He's back to murmuring.

"And I'll be gone before you eat breakfast." Subconsciously, you're fiddling with the slightly frayed edges of the blanket. It's well-loved. "As usual."

You think you hear him suck in a breath, seconds before:

"Why don't you stay?"

Your own breath stutters in your chest.

"... what?" Is all you can manage, without horrifically humiliating yourself.

"I mean," he rushes to correct himself, "you come by sometimes because you want to spend time with Abby— she likes you a lot, you know, sometimes I think she likes you more than she likes me . I think—" He's properly nervous now, his knee bouncing up and down. But he's already continuing before you can get a word in. "I think she'd like you to be here in the morning. And you don't accept pay, anyway. You just— won't."

His nervousness is spreading to you. "Hey, I—"

"Why are you here, anyway?"

The question sounds like it's been a long time coming. He's demanding you now, brow furrowed and eyes sparking with emotion. "Is it out of pity? Do you feel sorry for me? Do you feel sorry for Abby? Because if you do, then— then you can just—"

"It's not!" You exclaim.

Immediately, you realize that there's a sleeping girl not too far away, and shamefully lower your voice.

"... It's not, I promise. I just—" It takes a little while for you to gather the right words, and when you do, you don't drop your gaze from him. All of his previous frustration is all but gone, replaced by a slightly wide-eyed expression that's making your heart ache a little. "I genuinely really like spending time with Abby, okay? She's really sweet, and creative, and just a really great kid. And I—"

You stop yourself.

"And you what?" Mike asks, gently.

Might as well, huh?

"And I really like spending time with you, too," you admit, finally unable to meet his eyes and focusing on your lap instead.

There's an incredibly tense beat, in which you swear your life flashes before your eyes.

Then:

He's barely audible when he speaks. His knee has stopped bouncing, but he's playing with his thumbs. Clearly, your confession— vague as it was— resonated with him, in some way. You hope he understands what you meant, because you couldn't possibly put it all into words in a way that would make sense.

"Feeling's mutual," he mutters.

Your head almost snaps up at that. Maybe you had expected it, deep down— you're not oblivious, duh— but it's one thing to have a hunch, and another to have that hunch proven. And out loud, no less.

"Yeah?" You dare to ask.

Slowly, he looks up. He meets your eyes.

"Yeah," he repeats breathlessly, like the wind's been knocked out of him.

You let your blanket fall from your shoulders, and it slides all the way onto the floor.

You reach out.

He lets you lace your fingers through his.

Mike's palm is sort of clammy— and he's shaking a little— but he still squeezes your hand. On instinct, you guess. It still makes you smile. He doesn't return it, but his lips are parted a little, and you really, really like that. More than you probably should. You like a lot of things about him more than you probably should.

You scooch a little closer, and he doesn't move away. You let your gaze drop back down to his lips again, making your intentions clear. Still, you don't know if it's clear enough. You lean in, just barely.

"... Can I?"

His reply is almost instantaneous.

"Please."

You swallow all of the witty quips you could make, and kiss him instead.

He's very tentative at first. Like he hasn't done this for a while. But you ease him into it— and before long, he's got one hand on the back of your neck, the other somewhere near your waist. He tastes like coffee and something else you can't really put your finger on. It doesn't really matter, though. Because you are kissing him, damnit!

His eyes are still shut when you part— with a soft smack — but they flutter open after a second. You're not sure if you're supposed to say something meaningful. Luckily, he leans in instead, and your thoughts are immediately transported elsewhere.

You kiss like this for a while. It's really nice, and you know he needs it. So do you.

However— when you start losing track of time, lost in the moment, he makes a noise.

It's quiet, definitely. But it's nothing like the little hums and sighs he's been making so far. It makes you shift closer, pressing more insistently into him. And he responds, enthusiastically wrapping his arms around you, closing the little distance between your bodies that there was. You can practically feel his heart jackrabbiting in his chest when you slip your tongue past his already kiss-swollen lips.

He moans.

You indulge yourself. For a little longer. And Mike chases you when you part.

"We shouldn't do this in the living room," you whisper, nearly panting. "The couch is a little—"

"Okay," he whispers back, already sounding wrecked. "Okay."

You've been in his room before. You've sat on his bed— you've even laid on it before. But you've never straddled him on it before. It's a position that makes your head spin a little, and you occupy yourself with kissing him again. His hands fit perfectly on your hips, but they don't stay there for long, tragically— they trail upwards, up your waist, to your back. To your shoulders, and then back down again. It's as if he just can't get enough. You can't either. You need more.

So, you tug at his shirt. He gets the message right away— hands scrambling to pull it up and over his head. He's still rather slim, but with a slight softness, mostly located in his midsection. There's a light dusting of dark hair on his chest, as well as the provocative happy trail leading down from his navel. You drag your eyes downward, admiring him, and then decide that you're wearing too much clothing. Your top comes off, dropped onto the floor near his.

Mike takes more time to admire you when your torso is completely bare. His hands are warm on your bare skin, and slightly rough. Like before, he's hesitant at first, but when you encourage him— either literally or with physical indications— he grows bolder. His stubble scratches gently against you when his lips find your collarbone.

You squirm a little, not even realizing it— and you feel him. Simultaneously, you both gasp. He's not fully there, but he's at least half-hard— and it can't be comfortable in those jeans.

"Should I—"

"Yeah—"

With steady fingers, you unbutton his fly, and then unzip him. It's a little awkward when he shimmies out of the jeans, and when you wriggle out of your bottoms— you both snicker a little, but he's back to comfortably breathless when you settle back onto his lap. Under normal circumstances, you would tease him again. And yet, you can't bring yourself to. Not right now, at least.

All you want to do is keep going.

You roll your hips, testing the waters. His breath audibly hitches, and his hands fly up to settle back on your hips. He looks up at you, eyes already half-lidded— and they close when you grind down again. And again. His lips are clumsier this time when you kiss him, but he still reciprocates all the same. The sensation of him directly underneath you like this is intoxicating. You can feel every little twitch and every little jolt.

"Fuck," he breathes, long and drawn-out, " God, I can— I can see the spot on your—"

"Yeah?" You encourage, grinding down again, drinking in his answering groan. "You like that?"

"Yes —"

"You want me to take 'em off?"

Mike's pupils are blown wide, even though his eyes are already dark as is in the dimness of the room. He nods, once, then twice. "Yes," he murmurs. "Please," he adds, for good measure.

He stares openly when you get off him, just enough to peel off your last remaining layer of clothing. And when you sit back down, well. It's obvious that you'll have to give him a second. "Can I," he says, finally, "can I touch you?" The way he's looking up at you again is just so sweet, so needy, that you consider saying no. Your throbbing core quickly shuts that idea down.

"Go on," you encourage.

He helps you move so he has easier access, and—

His fingertips find your slit, already wet for him.

"Look what you did to me," you murmur.

He visibly flushes— and then carefully works one finger into your slick heat. The feeling, combined with his thumb brushing against your clit— it's relief that you've needed this entire time, and you can't help but let a quiet sound escape your lips. It's apparently enough incentive for him to quicken his pace a little. Deliberately, he continues massaging your sensitive nub in a firm but easy pattern as he gently pushes a second finger inside you.

Mike may be out of practice, but evidently, he still knows what he's doing. He peppers kisses up and down your neck, some more open-mouthed than others. Crooking his fingers, he maintains his diligent rhythm. A thought floats through your mind, unbidden— he must have strong hands, if he's been able to keep up like this—

Two becomes three, and you're spreading your thighs a little wider for him. He's still transfixed, but speeds up at your urging, breath hot against the divot between your neck and shoulder. You chance a glance down, and you can see the visible outline of him through his boxers. You did that to him. He's desperate— for you.

"Mike," you gasp, "nnh—"

"Yeah, c'mon," he mouths, against your neck, "c'mon—" He's not letting up in the slightest, and when you tell him to, he speeds up again. He needs to see you cum just as much as you need to feel it. Your needs and wants are rapidly blending into one. You squeeze your eyes shut, but open them to look at him. His dark curls are a mess, his hand working tirelessly between your legs.

"Mike —"

He says your name in return, like he's the one in the vulnerable position.

"Mike , 'm gonna— 'm gonna—"

"Please," his breaths are ragged, debauched, "cum, please, c'mon, lemme see it—"

"Oh —"

The tension snaps, and you spasm around his fingers. Your hips twitch, and you moan, your mouth falling open as you ride out your orgasm. You're rising— falling — molten honey pooling in your core, before flowing throughout your body. And Mike keeps going throughout it all, letting you enjoy the sensations until you're fully satisfied.

Nearly boneless, you sag backward. His fingers, soaked with your glistening release, slip out of your cunt with a wet noise. He doesn't waste any time in bringing them up into his mouth, cleaning them off with his tongue— at the taste of you, he groans, even though it's muffled. Your mind takes a moment to catch up again with the world, but another thought manifests itself— how would he react, if you let him use his mouth on you? How would his head look between your thighs? He would be noisy, wouldn't he? Enthusiastic, pliant, and—

Your desire, although it waned for a short minute, comes back tenfold. But you take one look down again and— you can do that later. Right now, you want him inside you.

Mike lets you tug him down for another kiss. He lets you feel the worn fabric on his thighs, almost playfully. When you palm him through them— he hisses through his teeth, hypersensitive even though you've barely touched him yet. You're going to fix that, though. Hooking your thumbs into the waistband of his boxers, you tug them down.

You were right. He's desperate. As soon as his overheated skin meets the cool air, he lets out another quiet hiss. And when you take him in hand—

"Mmh —" A firm stroke from base to tip, and you've already got him. He's average in length, but a little girthy. You know he'll be perfect. There's a little drop at the head of his cock, and you resist the urge to lick it off, focusing instead on warming him up a little. He whispers your name, once, when you pump up and down, twisting your wrist.

"Got a condom?" You ask, stilling for a second. His eyes snap to you.

"Oh my God, " he quickly mutters under his breath, before raising his volume, "uh, yeah, I think so. Lemme—" And he's already scrambling off the bed, opening the drawers of his nightstand with speed, but somehow simultaneously managing not to make much noise. He rifles through them, but soon emerges victoriously with what he was looking for. It's a little funny, how he doesn't waste any time in ripping it open and tossing the garbage into the mostly-overfull pail near his bed. Hastily, he rolls on the condom. You think he's expecting you to lay back or get up on your hands and knees so he can fuck you like that— you wouldn't be entirely opposed to it— but that's not what you want right now.

You place your hands on his chest and push him back down so he's sitting against the headboard. He goes without complaint, even shifting when he understands what you want to do. He's flushed almost down to his neck.

When you sink down on him in a smooth slide, still slick from earlier, you both moan. He sounds strained— he's biting his lower lip, squirming until he finally bottoms out. You have to take a moment to catch your breath, too; the fullness is just how you imagined, but it's so, so much, especially because of your lingering sensitivity.

"I'm not—" He audibly swallows, hands tightening on your waist when you move just a little, "oh, fuck, I'm not gonna— I'm not gonna last long." He's babbling a little. "You're tight, fuck."

You rock back and forth, once, and it's enough to force a choked noise from his throat. You watch his face, observing every little twitch, the clenching of his jaw. You can't hesitate for much longer, though— so you begin lifting yourself and dropping yourself down on his cock. Just in little movements at first, so you can get used to the feeling. His eyes squeeze shut—

"Look at me," you demand, and he does. He doesn't try and thrust up into you when you really start to move. Up and down, up and down, with lewd plaps that accompany your sounds; his grunts— you swear you hear him whimper . His eyelashes flutter open and closed, as he struggles to follow your command, wanting to be good. For you. Even though you can see his thighs flexing as he holds everything back. You ride him for all you're worth.

True to his words, you can tell when he gets close. Maybe he's been on edge this entire time. You thread your fingers through his hair— he buries his face into the crook of your neck, maybe out of embarrassment. You can feel how flushed he is, a thin sheen of sweat covering both of your bodies. Your muscles are aching, but you're determined to make him cum. You're determined to do this for him.

He says your name, but it's more of a whine. "Please — I'm gonna— I can't — "

"Go on," you pant, "you can. Don't hold back." Your arms are wrapped around his neck, now, holding him tight; just like his arms around your waist. The contact is almost too much, but somehow it's still not enough, despite him being inside you. "Go on," you repeat, after he whines again, the sound sending white-hot heat straight to your core. "Cum."

Mike twitches, and you can feel him pulse— the sound he lets out is high-pitched, muffled into your skin. You slow your movements— the aftershocks of his orgasm last longer than yours. It might've been a little while for you, but it had definitely been longer for him.

He doesn't let go, even after his breathing's slowed down.

Gently, you pull his head back so you can look at him. He looks up at you with slightly wet eyes. The kisses you press to his cheeks and forehead make him scrunch up his face.

"Hey," he rasps, "I gotta throw out the condom. Hang on."

"Yeah, okay."

When he slips out of you, you both sigh a little. With unsteady fingers, he ties up the condom before chucking it into the pail.

The sheets are cool on your skin when he pulls them over you both. The room reeks of sex, but both of you are too exhausted to care. When you turn to lay on your side, he's behind you, throwing an arm over your waist. Tugging you closer. Almost absentmindedly, there's a kiss pressed to the back of your head.

"Thank you," he mumbles.

You stare at the far wall, unable to close your eyes just yet.

"For what?"

"For—" A pause. "For everything, I guess."

The awkwardness is back. But you let it in. You smile.

"You're welcome."

He doesn't respond, but shuffles nearer, chest pressed up against your back. It's not long before you're both fast asleep.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt smut

3K notes · View notes

anantaru · 7 months

Text

DAY 21 — JEALOUSY

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

𖧡 — including — alhaitham, thoma, scaramouche, wriothesley

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, jealous & possessive boys, a lil insecure, fear of you leaving them, prone bone, oral (male! receiving), teasing & rough

𖧡 — ALHAITHAM

indeed, it was a lot more convenient for alhaitham to pretend like he wasn't jealous right now, painfully so, and the thought of him even getting to this point was somewhat embarrassing to the renowned scribe— especially since you're giving him no reasons to be jealous in the first place.

with shaky fingers, you frame your hands behind his neck as you push him close for a quick kiss, and alhaitham found himself welcoming you with a roughness that manifested into ruthless ruts of his length shattering all sense of rationality in you when you jolt your hips into him, his cock continuously pushing into you possessively before dragging his palm down to grope your tits— his way of handling and pleasing your body was always enough to make you empty headed and crave more friction, even though alhaitham was rougher than usually this time around.

little do you realize that alhaitham couldn't look at your wide, pleading eyes, instead he focused on making you feel good, despite his head being full of constant bothering thoughts and emotions, his own glossed over eyes filled with deep annoyance.

what the man didn't wanted to happen was for you to suddenly believe that his obvious lack of attention and negligence was directed at you, but alas, it gave the impression away, especially when you whine out his name, alhaitham, alhaitham, again and again, but he doesn't even look at you, and it's like a mark burning into your skin when he stops himself at last, his cock still throbbing inside the confines of your walls but alhaitham wasn't moving an inch anymore.

"i-is something wrong?" you mutter, breathing and sniffling through your moans, "did i do something?" your gentle words of compliance slip past his ears as he suddenly returns your gaze at last, his eyes open wide when the realization hit him. the heat in the air gets drained entirely and the mood falters a little, replaced with subtle touches, low breaths and at last, alhaitham's unwavering focus on you.

"no," he shakes his head immediately, "you did nothing," and here his voice softened, continuing, "you could never, you know that," he looks at you, and in return, you raise your eyebrows at him, utterly irritated, asking him non-verbally to explain himself and his difficult pondering— your cunt still pressed around his girth and it's more pleasurable than painful, yet neither of you was moving an inch, and it doesn't seem like you will for a while.

alas— as you might be utterly aware by now, alhaitham wasn't a man of many words, he preferred the easier route, and his heart was steady for once, thanks to you shaking his thoughts and calming him with nothing but your sensual voice.

and, truthfully, there was a part of him that enjoyed letting his desires out like that, to signalize you his desires despite him drifting off into his thoughts every now and then.

or, that in the end, any other individual fumbling their attempt to get to know you will fail, because as always, alhaitham never has to fear for any lack of loyalty coming from you.

𖧡 — THOMA

the mental picture of not being good enough for you creeped its way over thoma's psyche and body, while this particular thinking was making him much too jealous, too insecure and grumpy, truly, he absolutely loathed the feeling of it, it left a bad taste in his mouth and he hated himself deeply right now.

by now, it felt as though he had memorized every word that his negative emotions spoke to him, and it served as an evident contrast to the lustful temperature littering over your naked bodies as he plays with you, his red tip battering against your sensitive insides with such roughness that your entire body was bouncing back and forth the bed.

"you're mine," thoma's repeated declarations ooze into you and scratch the deepest depths of your brain, "mine, fuck— and mine," it truly messes with your mind, his thrusts deep and precise making you cry desperately with quick snaps of his hips holding your breath away.

"yes.." you hiccup weakly, "forever... yours," and thoma groans loudly at your sentences, he was so glad that he cannot help himself but smile— even though of course, it didn't entirely melt away the troubling thoughts, they continue to pester him, how not when he was thinking about it all day long.

in spite of that, he wanted to prove himself until you're utterly trapped to the feeling of being overflowed by his throbbing length swelling inside, taking up all the sweet space until you're nothing but full of him— swiftly hiding your dampened face against thoma's neck, stifling your darling cries as he pushes faster, deeper, his painfully hard cock pistoling in and out until you're practically yelling his name in broken spells.

it only takes a couple more thrusts before he spills into you, your clenching walls trying to keep him in as your legs tremble while trapped in a frenzy, fluids mixing and oozing over his erection— and it's sudden, when you run your fingers over his scalp to drag him into you, and it immediately fills him with an emotion akin to joy, "i'm yours, thoma,"

perhaps, that’s all thoma needed to hear— remembering the fact that he was chosen by you, that it was only him who was allowed to touch you, kiss you, taste you.

𖧡 — SCARAMOUCHE

"are you close? please tell me, please.." a hot breeze ignites the shell of your ear as scaramouche's warm, desperate heaves brush across the deepest parts on your body, each word of his spoken out so sinfully that it somehow showed a different, much more vulnerable side of him. he holds you close to his figure, one hand planted on top of your hips while the other was located on the back of your neck, sinfully pressing your head against the soiled pillows with your mouth gaped open, moaning out the pleasure.

the unforgiving, strong pace of his hips was never losing on strength, the intensity of his blows was maddening, merciless, and you could feel it all, he made sure of, the thick veins prancing around his shaft ripping through your bruised walls, sending a stimulating bolt all the way down to your spine.

"cry for me, come on," he breathes, his voice thick of lust, fuck, he was so worked up, so fucking mad at the fact that his own insecurities were playing cruel tricks on him, and he needed to make you cum right now, so he could release himself right after and bury every last drop of his seed inside of you, until you're overcrowded, your eyes brimming with warm tears due to the sheer impact.

now, kuni's broken inability to talk about his feelings and concerns was difficult to navigate through, but this is where everything changes— because after you whine out his name when his rough fingers slide down between your trembling legs, rolling two digits over your neglected clit as he glides his tongue over his lips before pressing his entire weight on top of you, with his mouth located right against your ear.

"i hate, hate, hate, hate, how they look at you," scaramouche really wanted to be gentle this night, he was really trying his best to not let his emotions run freely, but he just couldn't help himself anymore, so he grinds down harder, feeling everything, fucking you hard and deep and reaching the sweet spots he knew you'd roll your eyes back at.

completely lost in the feeling of you, his dripping erection ridges into your bruised walls as his cock repeatedly stretches you— he needed to feel you, more and more, endlessly craving your insides to tighten around his shaft and milk every last drop of him, until his troubled mind would stop racing into negative directions and perhaps then, he'll finally open up to you and tell you about his deep-rooted insecurities.

𖧡 — WRIOTHESLEY

"hold still for me", wriothesley inhales deeply into his chest, the scent of pheromones and sweat driving him ferocious— he could feel himself twitch underneath your warm palm hungrily smearing his salty pre all over his shaft and it's uncontrolled, stimulating, when you pin a snug kiss on his rosy tip.

he places on hand against the back of your head as you part your mouth to take him, your nostrils filled with his scent that permeated every single part of him and made you push your thighs together in impatience— but it wasn't your turn yet, and you wanted to parade your hot mouth over his throbbing dick a while longer, until wriothesley realizes that you could do this perpetually, his lengthy cock in your mouth so you could give it the attention it deserved, your saliva streaming down and making it shine as the spit dribbles all the way down to his aching balls.

"you know you're the only one for me, right?" he laughs before hissing out in exhilaration when you fondle his balls, adding more strength towards the underside but holding them sensitively, you wouldn't want to hurt him, so you bob your head up and down, swallow his salty pre whilst massaging his balls in your hand, all the while parting your mouth as wide as you could, taking as much into your throat as would fit.

"and there's— fucking hell, no reason to be jealous, baby," you suddenly look up at him through pleading eyes, were you really this obvious with it today? well, granted, you cannot even describe the level of rage you would feel whenever someone would talk about your boyfriend, as if he was single, even though knowing full on well he wasn't— yet the good part? wriothesley might be the last person who'd ever give a damn about those pestering intruders, how you referred to them, and he was barely able to wait until he could bury your mouth to the hilt before spilling sweet nothings into your ears.

"fuck—," he grunts, clenched jaw tensing when he feels it move over your wet tongue tracing over his swollen veins, "fuck, just you wait— just you wait," before he spreads his legs further, so you could fit right in between his strong thighs better, and have enough room while being stuffed full of his cock prodding at the back of your throat.

as was anticipated, wriothesley was slowly turning louder and it's a melodious sound sending a warmth through your body, heightening the temperature on your drenched core slicking up your panties and puncturing it to a sizzling degree— but you're keeping yourself contained, all for him, for his delicious erection slipping through and expanding, sealing you together as one.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #wriothesley x reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #thoma x reader #thoma smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut #genshin x you #kinktober #genshin Impact x you #scaramouche x you #alhaitham x you #al haitham x reader #al haitham smut #wriothesley smut

5K notes · View notes

valleyofheartz · 2 months

Text

Beginning of the End

pairing: Suna Rintarou x F!Reader

angst to fluff

WC: 3.1k

synopsis: when Suna begins to spend more time with his close friends, including his new sickeningly sweet manager, you start to wonder if you’re not as important to him as you thought.

content/warnings: neglect, mentions of beating up (no one gets beat up), jealousy, insecurity, no use of y/n, lmk if i missed anything!

you make your way towards the gymnasium with a giddy smile as you hum the lyrics to Apple Cider. it’s a boring Thursday afternoon, and while you had the option of going home immediately, you figured you’d stop by Rintarou’s volleyball practice. after all, you’d baked some brownies and thought it would be a fun surprise for the boys.

you peek your head through the door to ensure no volleyballs are going to attack you, before slipping in and running towards the benches. you notice Suna spot you with his intense stare, and you give him a smile paired with a wave in response. he waves back before focusing on the rest of his practice.

you manage to get some work done throughout the hour, not disturbing the team as you know how serious the sport is to them. by the time you’ve finished your homework, they’ve begun to pack up and head to the locker room.

Atsumu, however, wipes his sweat with a towel before walking towards you.

“Hey, [Name], how are ya doin'?” he asks you with a crooked grin.

you finish zipping up your backpack before looking up, “I’m doing okay! Just waiting for Rin.”

he nods understandingly as the rest of the boys walk out, dressed in fresh clothes and looking much less… stinky. Rintarou eyes you and Atsumu as he lazily stalks over, draping an arm over you and pulling you close.

he bends down and kisses your temple, “Hey, baby. What’re you doing here?”

you pause, looking up at him unsure as you are aware of the presence of his team members. “I was waiting for you. I was thinking we could go back home together and watch a movie?”

he lifts his arm to rub the back of his neck. “Sorry, today the team is going out for dinner. Maybe tomorrow?”

you ignore the pinch in your heart at the lack of an invitation, but you justify it as it is a team dinner. and make no mistake, no matter how close you were, you were not part of his team.

“Oh, okay.” you murmur with an awkward smile. you look towards Osamu who stands off to the side, “Hey, ‘Samu, I made my brownies again since you all loved them so much. Here.”

you reach out to give them to him as he rips open the lid and stares at it with heart-eyes. he looks back to you, “Thank ya so much [Name], ya sure ya don’t wanna dump Sunarin for me? I could eat these for the rest of ma life.”

Suna immediately wraps an arm around your waist, tugging you into his chest as he glowers at Osamu. you giggle as Osamu merely raises his hands in mock surrender. the rest of the team digs in, including Atsumu who you notice still hasn’t changed. but that was none of your business.

what was your business, was the pouty messy haired boy in front of you who looked like a sad puppy.

“Hey. Where’s mine?”

you smile fondly, before unzipping your backpack and pulling out a neatly wrapped bag of brownies. they were decorated with caramel drizzle and mini sprinkle hearts.

Suna lights up at the sight, gently grabbing it from your hand and kissing the side of your face. “Thanks.” he whispers, causing you to shiver at the low tone.

“Should you all be eating brownies when nationals is just around the corner? I thought you’d be more strict about this, Kita-san.” a gentle voice comes from behind. you look over and find their manager, Akira, as she frowns at the team.

Kita looks thoroughly scolded as he stares at the brownie in his hand, his cheeks puffed out as he stops chewing.

your brows furrow as you notice everyone stop eating. you force a smile, “I thought it would be fine since it’s been months since I gave it to them.”

Atsumu nods as he finishes chewing, licking his fingers once he’s done. “Yeah, don’t worry about it Akira, yer new so ya don’t know this, but [Name] always bakes for us. It doesn’t hurt to have somethin’ sweet once in a while.”

she sighs, a dimpled smile coming onto her face, “I suppose you’re right, Atsumu. Well, when are we leaving?”

your face drops at the we. who is we, you begin to wonder. the team? her? everyone here but you? you clench your fist as you inhale quietly. you turn to Suna with a smile.

“I’m gonna head home before it gets darker, have fun at your dinner.” you kiss his cheek before placing your bag over your shoulder and leaving, uncaring of the fact that your exit was not the nicest.

perhaps this was the beginning of the end of your and Suna’s relationship. looking back, you should’ve noticed something was wrong. but what were you to do, other than ride the catastrophic wave as a rookie surfer.

✾

things began to go downhill from there. slowly, but surely, you were losing Rintarou. it went from team dinners, to team hangouts, to spending lunch breaks with the team. it was the team, team, team, and team. and a quick glance at Atsumu’s Instagram let you know that Akira was included in every team plan.

that didn’t mean you didn’t try. because if there’s anything you ever did, it was try your best.

“Hey, Rin! Let’s get dinner on Saturday?”

he looks at you with a guilty smile, kissing your lips gently. you part, dazed, but he lets you down with his next words. “Sorry, team dinner again. Maybe next week?”

“Rinnie, was thinking of seeing the new Barbie movie with you. Wanna go on Friday?” you ask with hopeful eyes. the Barbie movie was gaining so much popularity lately, it was hard to go about your days without seeing spoilers.

he pauses, before running a hand through his messy dark hair, “Sorry, babe. The team already asked me to go with them. I can rewatch it with you some other time though?”

“No need,” you shake your head with a wry smile.

“Have fun, Rin.”

you end up going to the theatres alone and shoving popcorn in your mouth every time the couples next to you giggle.

the last straw was when he flaked on your usual Thursday lunch break meetup. the two of you would sit on the rooftop together and enjoy picking at each others food. it would often end in you being cuddled into his chest, enjoying the soft kisses down your neck.

the past few weeks, he hadn’t been present at all. he was physically there, but his mind was somewhere else. he’d be on his phone texting the team group chat you were obviously not in, and it was getting ridiculous. so when he fails to show up this week, you begin to wonder how much more of this you’ll put up with.

he doesn’t text you back for the rest of the day, and while you wish you could say you were angry, you were more so disappointed. was expecting him to prioritize you asking for too much? was it unreasonable to want to be chosen first? was love meant to hurt this much?

you make your way to the gymnasium once again after class. your face that once held a happy smile is replaced with a blank look, as you are unable to force yourself to look something you do not feel.

you walk in without a care of the volleyballs being thrown across the room, but you stop when you spot Akira, dimpled brown-haired Akira, who is in your Rintarou’s sweater. the sleeves fall below her hands, and the sweater paws look horrifically adorable. she smiles as she talks with the team, handing their water bottles to them. you wonder if you are imagining the glint in her eyes as she hands Rintarou his, their fingers brushing lightly as she gives it to him.

“[Name]!” a loud voice calls. it snaps you out of your daze, but you wish it hadn’t. tears begin to build in your eyes, so you turn around and walk out. you quickly wipe them away, thankful that your eyes don’t get red easily as you continue walking.

but then you hear footsteps. someone’s running towards you. you know it’s Rintarou, but you can’t face him right now. you speed up your steps, but he catches up with you in no time and softly grabs your wrist, pulling you into his chest.

you rip your arm out harshly, frowning up at him.

he exhales, out of breath from practice and running. “Baby, what’s wrong? Why did you leave?”

he pauses, “Why do you look so upset?”

he moves closer to grab your face in his hands, but you take a step back, needing the space.

“Why… Why was she in your sweater, Rintarou?”

he frowns, eyes looking around as his mind scrambles to understand you. “Who? You mean Akira? She wasn’t feeling well during lunch so I gave her my sweater.”

your heart drops. so while you were waiting for him alone at the rooftop he was with her? your face twists; you aren’t sure what kind of expression you’re showing, but it must annoy Suna, as he scoffs quietly, sliding a hand over his face.

“You’re not upset over that, are you? Because I don’t remember you being so possessive like that.”

you bark out a sarcastic laugh, looking at him as you tilt your head, “Possessive? More like I’m fucking normal, Rintarou. With the way you’ve been neglecting me lately, this is just the cherry on top.”

you shake your head, ignoring his concerned eyes. “Go back to practice, Suna. I’m going home.”

you turn around, fully expecting to be pulled back, but nothing happens. you continue to walk, letting out a shaky exhale as you place your headphones on. tears slip out of your eyes as your vision begins to blur. you blink harshly, wondering why every situation seemed to leave you utterly alone.

✾

“She said something about Akira being in my sweater.” Suna dries his hair messily with the towel in his hands before leaving it draped on his neck.

Osamu shrugs, “Well, that’s a valid reason to be uncomfortable in my opinion.”

Aran nods in agreement beside him. “Yeah, you considered that maybe you pushed a boundary of hers?”

Suna frowns, trying to ignore the flashes in his head of your heartbroken face. his chest aches. he hates not being on good terms with you.

Atsumu comes out from the showers, stretching his arms as he yawns.

“How was yer lunch with her today? Did she seem upset earlier?”

Suna pauses at Atsumu’s words.

Lunch?

Today was…Thursday.

he stands, scrambling as he rummages through his bag for his phone. he quickly opens your contact and looks at your texts. he sighs with a heavy heart at what he sees. why didn’t he get your texts?

he checks to the settings, finding that he had your contact muted. he knows he could have never done that, so he traces his memory back to whoever had his phone. the only time he left his phone alone today was when he was with Akira in the nurses room.

putting the pieces together, he shuts off his phone and tosses it back into his bag.

“Fuck.”

Suna looks for you on Friday, but you manage to slip away every time he got close. he sat in your usual seat in class, only for you to sit up at the front close to the door. when class was over, you quickly packed your bags and was out before he could blink.

when he looked for you at lunch, he found you surrounded by your friends. you must’ve told them something, because the moment they saw him they glared before huddling closer to you as if to protect you. he rolls his eyes at the thought but is happy you have such caring friends.

he waits by your locker after school, crossing his arms and leaning on the cool metal. he has practice, but he has priorities. and perhaps he neglected you for the past three weeks, but he knows he can fix this. he can be better.

but when you don’t show up, he wonders what the point of being better is if you’re not there.

his eyes trace the lines in the concrete as he walks towards the gym. the rest of practice he’s off his game, with sloppy spikes and weak serves. sure, he gets told off by Kita but it’s not as bad as the pain of potentially losing you.

Akira walks up to him after practice. she taps his shoulder. “Hey, Suna. I was wondering if you wanted to visit the Illusion Cafe with me this weekend? I know you love sweets and I heard lots of good things!” she smiles sweetly, but all Suna can focus on is the sweater she is wearing. it’s his.

more importantly, it’s yours.

he frowns, “No. I’m gonna spend that time with my girlfriend.”

Akira’s expression drops into a slight scowl. his eyebrow twitches at the mere sight. why would she be angry that he’s spending time with his girlfriend?

“Oh…Okay. Let me know if you change your mind.” she says with a tight lipped smile.

he looks back at the sweater before glancing at her face. “I won’t. Also, I’d like my sweater back sometime soon, thanks.”

her face reddens at his comment. she nods, embarrassed, before scurrying away.

Suna sighs, walking to the locker room and wondering how he was gonna get you to talk to him.

the team walks out of the gym, with Suna tuning their mindless rambling out. he stretches, finding his eyes seem heavier than usual. he hadn’t slept well last night, unused to you being angry with him that it left him so unsettled he couldn’t sleep.

“Oh, looks like the basketball team is also going home.”

it’s something insignificant. something Suna thought he’d look over at and forget the next second. but then he sees you.

you, with your arm wrapped around another guy’s arm. he’s tall, taller than Suna. muscular too, and his dark blue hair is captivating. Suna stops walking, causing the rest of the team to take a second glance at what he is looking at.

“Holy shit, is that [Name]? What’s she doin’ with those scrubs?” he distantly hears Atsumu say, but all is on his mind is he needs to get you away from that guy now. away from him and into his arms.

you’re laughing, happy for the first time in three weeks until you hear the rushed footsteps that are approaching you.

“[Name], let’s talk.” Suna demands. unfortunately for him, you’re not in the mood to talk anymore.

you unwrap your arm, looking at Suna directly. “No thanks. Maybe next time.” you quote his favourite line he’d used on you countless times recently. it seems he realizes, as his face crumples.

“Who’s this dolt?” the tall blue haired man asks, and Suna’s eyebrow twitches in irritation. who does this guy think he is?

you sigh, “Sorry, Aomine. This is my…boyfriend.”

Aomine’s brows raise. “Ah, my bad. Didn’t mean to get in the way.”

you shake your head, ignoring the other basketball members who surround you. “You’re not in the way, let’s go home, please.”

Suna walks in front of you, stopping you from moving. you exhale, exhausted from the long three weeks and wanting nothing more than to be in your bed.

“You want me to deal with him, [Name]?” Kagami asks from the side, sliding his sleeves up as Suna’s eyes widen.

a new voice comes from behind Suna, “Deal with him? Yer gonna havta deal with us too then.” Atsumu stands in front of Suna, eyes blazing with confidence. even Kita stands off to the side, seemingly ready to physically intervene. you want to laugh at the scene.

you shake your head at the almost comedic situation in front of you, before clapping your hands loudly. “Okay! That’s enough. Volleyball kids, go on your way. Basketball kids, also go on your way. Suna and I will talk as he walks me home.”

Suna’s eyes light up at your words, but you ignore his gaze. he wasn’t forgiven quite yet.

the rest of them begin to make their way out of the school grounds, except for Suna and Aomine. Aomine looks down at you, bending to your height, “You sure you don’t need me to do anything?”

you smile at his overprotectiveness, “No thanks, I got this. Thank you though, really.” he smiles and ruffles your hair, letting out a small ‘oof’ as you hug him tightly.

Suna stands off to the side, silently seething yet knowing he has no place to tell you what to do, especially not now.

Aomine leaves soon after, with a soft wave and a promise to beat Suna up if he tries anything funny. you glance at Suna who looks unsure and out of place.

“Let’s go?” you don’t wait for an answer and begin walking. you hear soft shuffling as he walks beside you and takes small glances that he thinks are discreet.

you arrive at a park near your house. you take a seat on the swings, Suna carefully doing the same. you wait for him to speak, as you’re all out of love and words to give at the moment.

“So… I think- No I know, I need to start this off by saying I’m sorry.” he stands, moving to position himself in front of you. he bends down, crouching to meet your gaze.

“I was very neglectful these last few weeks. I have no excuse, and I know I’ve hurt you.”

he slowly moves to grab your hand; you allow him, as he brings your limp hand to kiss the back. “I want you to know I made it clear to Akira that you’re my number one. You’re the one I always want, no matter what. I can’t even believe my dumbass made you doubt that.”

he shakes your head, looking down before glancing up. you notice tears building in his lash-line, causing you to sit up in alarm.

“I am seriously so fucking sorry for missing our lunch dates, dinners, and for giving her my sweater.”

you grab his face gently, wiping your thumbs beneath his eyes.

“I’ll burn the sweater, I swear.”

you roll your eyes, squishing his cheeks gently.

he grabs your arms, kissing your inner wrists softly as he looks up at you. “Will you give me a second chance? I promise I won’t fumble.”

the sweet moment is broken, then, as you scoff out a laugh. “You’re not going to fumble me, Rintarou.”

he smiles, cat-like eyes with a lazy grin. “Damn right. Gotta treat you like the princess you are.”

you pout, “Not a queen?”

he laughs, a deep raspy sound. he stands up and tilts his head down to kiss your nose.

“Princess, queen, anything. So long as you’re mine.”

EXTRA:

"So, who was that asshole earlier?"

you shove his shoulder gently, "He's not an asshole! He's my friend. Didn't you know I'm friends with the basketball team? I used to be their manager."

Rintarou scoffs, "Yeah, I knew that, just didn't know those guys were so close to my girl."

you look at him with a blank face.

"Right, and I was the one who was possessive. Sure."

he whines softly, low in his throat as he moves his face into your neck, "I said I was sorry!"

a/n: suna brainrot😵‍💫

#haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #suna rintaro x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #suna angst #suna fluff #suna x you #haikyuu angst to fluff #suna rintaro imagine #suna x reader #haikyuu x you

1K notes · View notes

incognit0slut · 3 months

Text

The breaking point

Part 2 of Beyond the Limit (can also be read as a standalone)

Spencer realizes that being dominant doesn’t always require him to be rough, especially when he has complete control over your body.

warnings: (18+, MDNI) soft dom spence because there’s a lot of praising in this one, reader in lingerie, orgasm control or edging, overstimulation, reader gets cockdrunk (idk how to explain it better), a little cockwarming at the end

Words: 4,3k

a/n: this has been in my drafts for a while and i finally finished it, i don’t usually do a part two for my oneshots but…i’m actually tempted to do more

You were a tease—a goddamn tease. Spencer knew he needed to work on his self-control, but it was hard to keep his composure when you had the ability to stir desire within him. It was perplexing, given that there was a time when thoughts of anything remotely sexual never even crossed his mind.

For the majority of his life, intimacy had been a foreign concept. While he occasionally felt a pang of jealousy witnessing everyone around him find love, he managed just fine without it. He suspected it was partly a defense mechanism, channeling his focus toward other aspects of his life—such as his mother's health, for example—to avoid dwelling on what he lacked.

But then all his beliefs shattered when you came crashing into his life. Suddenly, everything he thought he knew about himself was thrown away. Your presence sparked a fire within him that he never knew existed and he found himself craving the intimacy he had once dismissed as unnecessary.

He wasn't even aware of how touch-starved he was until he met you, and now it was hard to maintain that last thread of self-control he possessed. It wasn't that he didn't want to give in, but rather, he feared the intensity of his own desires, afraid that he might enjoy it more than he anticipated.

Because did he have to be rough with you for him to be satisfied, now that he had once known how it felt like? But how could he indulge in such temptation when you looked so utterly beautiful right now, so delicate, so precious in his eyes?

How could he even fathom ruining your perfection with roughness?

"Spence?" You nervously asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Your confidence was starting to dissipate as his eyes slowly traveled down your body, taking in the lingerie you chose to surprise him. Although this was not the reaction you were hoping for. "Do you not... like it?"

Spencer's gaze lingered on you, his expression was unreadable for a moment before a warm smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"No, no, it's not that," he reassured you, putting down the book he had been reading on the bedside table before you walked into your shared bedroom. He reached his hand out, motioning you to come closer. "It's just... you caught me off guard, that's all."

You approached him cautiously and as you stepped closer, you noticed the tension in his shoulders easing, replaced by a soft warmth in his eyes. His hand found its place on your waist, drawing you closer and you instinctively fell on his lap, your knees dipping onto the bed on each side of his thighs.

Feeling his arousal right between your legs, you couldn't suppress the soft gasp that escaped your lips. "So you do like it," you murmured, a hint of satisfaction lacing your words.

"Like it? Sweetheart, that's an understatement," he replied. His calloused palms traveled along your sides as he took in the way the lace material hugged your curves.

The lilac-colored lingerie set on your body accentuated your figure perfectly. Both pieces were see-through, granting him a glimpse of your chest and lower region. The delicate edges of the top were adorned with more of the soft fabric, cascading over your stomach and back in a gentle, stunningly pretty way.

"You're so beautiful," Spencer whispered as he traced the intricate patterns of the fabric with his fingertips. "Absolutely breathtaking."

His touch sent shivers down your spine. You leaned into him, relishing the warmth and tenderness of his touch as one of his hands moved up your arm before resting behind your neck, pulling you closer to him.

His lips touched yours gently, sending a thrill coursing through your body. He nipped at your bottom lip, his touch both teasing and tender and as he sucked on it softly, a low moan escaped you. He then deepened the kiss, his tongue gently pushing into your mouth, and you kissed him back eagerly, your lips moving in perfect sync with his.

When he finally pulled away, you were left breathless, but he didn't stop giving you attention. His mouth made its way down to your neck, his lips trailing soft kisses along your skin and you couldn't help but arch your back, offering yourself to him completely. He then sucked on the spot below your ear, his lips creating a deliciously pleasurable sensation that made you moan softly in response.

You could feel his smile against your skin as he continued to travel further down, his lips leaving a trail of heat along your neck and collarbone. At the same time, his fingers pulled down the strap of your lingerie top, the material gracefully falling down your body, revealing more of your skin.

"Beautiful," he whispered as if it was the first time he laid his eyes on you, even if the two of you lost count long ago. His name slipped from your lips the moment his wide palms were pressed to your breasts, kneading the soft flesh and your nipples hardened beneath his touch.

Your mouth hung open in a silent gasp, and your breathing quickened in response when his thumb traced over your sensitive peak, sending electric sparks of pleasure coursing through your body. Spencer watched the way your eyes widened with desire, his own filled with a hunger that mirrored yours. And when he leaned closer, wrapping his soft lips around it, you were instantly gone.

The sensation sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, eliciting the most sinful sound you weren't even aware of making. It was like music to his ears, fueling his desire to please you even more. He continued to suck on your skin, giving the same attention to each breasts, his movements growing more fervent with each passing moment.

When he felt your hips bucking against his, he let out a low, guttural groan of pleasure. He softly drew back your nipple, your supple skin following his pull before he released it with a soft pop. Your skin glistened from his saliva, and honestly, Spencer had never seen such a splendid sight before.

The way you were grinding against him over his cotton pants frantically sent a surge of desire coursing through his veins. He could feel the thin fabric of your sheer panties pressing between your cunt, and with each movement, he could see glimpses of soft, bare skin glistening under the light, driving him wild with longing.

A primal need surged within him, a need to devour you, to lose control and indulge in the raw intensity. He craved to run his rough hands along your body, to explore every inch of your skin and claim you as his own. But he couldn't—not when you were the one in control as you sought pleasure in the way your hips moved against his.

So instead, his hands found purchase on your hips, guiding you to move faster. "That's it, sweetheart," he encouraged, his voice thick with desire. "Keep going."

You obeyed, pressing your aching heat against his cock, rolling your hips rapidly as a whimper of his name escaped you. You felt yourself growing hot and needy, your arousal dripping through your panties to coat his flesh beneath you, soaking through fabrics.

"Look at how wet you are," he mused, his voice laced with desire as he observed your flushed state and the evidence of your arousal staining the fabric between you. "Does this feel good?"

Your only response was another desperate moan, your body consumed by the overwhelming pleasure of being with him. What started lazy and slow soon turned into sporadic thrusts as you tried to cling to any friction. Your breath came in short, shallow gasps, and your body quivered with a delicious ache. It was too much, but at the same time, it wasn't enough.

"I need to feel you," you breathed out quickly, and before he could register what was happening, your fingers were pulling down his pants frantically. Sensing your desperation, he was quick to push the fabric down as his cock sprung free.

You bit down on your bottom lip as you lift your hips above him, taking him by the base with one of your hands while the other pushed the material of your panties to the side. He groaned when you pressed the tip of his cock to your dripping entrance.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his concern evident in his voice. Spencer always made sure you were fully ready, either with his fingers or mouth—or even with your own fingers. But you were already wet enough, and you couldn't wait any longer to feel him inside you.

You nodded eagerly, the need for him overpowering any hesitation. "Please," you begged, your voice pleading and desperate. "I need you now."

Both of you watched in awe as his girth stretched your clenched walls, the sensation of being filled to the brim overwhelming your senses. It wasn't the first time this happened, but it felt like a new sensation each time, and you found yourself instinctively clenching around him, eager to feel him even deeper inside you.

"Fuck," you whimpered, allowing yourself a moment to adjust to his size. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as you squeezed yourself around him. With a slow, deliberate motion, you lifted your hips, feeling him ease out of you, only to lower yourself onto him again.

The sensation of him sliding back inside you made you gasp, a rush of pleasure washing over you as you took him deeper. His groan reverberated through your body, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through you. As his head fell back against the headboard, you couldn't help but whimper, the words tumbling from your lips without much thought.

"You fill me up so good," you confessed, your voice laced with desire as you rolled your hips against him. Your hands slipped under his shirt, feeling his soft stomach clench underneath your fingertips with every upstroke of your hips. "Take this off, baby."

With a low growl of approval, Spencer complied, swiftly removing his shirt and tossing it aside. Without hesitation, your hands trailed over his chest, reveling in the sensation of his smooth skin beneath your fingertips, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your touch.

He watched you intently, captivated by the raw display of pleasure that painted your features. The way your face twisted in ecstasy, the way your mouth hung open in silent gasps, the way your breasts bounced with every movement—all of it drove him to the edge of his self-control.

As you quickened your pace, he felt his restraint slipping away, the urge to claim you completely becoming increasingly difficult to resist. Each time you clenched around him, it became harder for him to hold back. And as always, you could tell. You could feel the tension in his grip on your hips, the way his fingers dug into your flesh with a possessive urgency.

You slowed your hips, bringing your hand to his cheek, forcing him to look at you. "You're doing it again."

His gaze met yours, filled with a mixture of desire and frustration. He knew exactly what you were referring to. "I... I can't help it. You drive me crazy."

"I know that," you responded, stilling for a moment as you kept him buried deep inside you. "I just need you to do something about it."

He slowly shook his head. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," you assured him, your voice filled with confidence as you leaned closer, bumping your nose against him seductively. "Come on, I know how much you want to be in control."

When he didn't respond, you pushed him even further, your lips tantalizingly close to his as you whispered your seductive taunt.

"I know you want more," you teased. "Don't you want to take control? Lie me on my back and fuck me until I can't think anymore? Until I beg you to stop while you use my body over and over again?"

"Don't tempt me," he choked out, his voice thick with longing and restraint.

But you weren't finished yet. "Yeah?" you challenged, your tone daring as you buried your hand in his disheveled, sweaty hair. "Then I dare you to."

You tugged on his roots.

"Fuck me, Spencer." You nipped on his bottom lip. "Fuck me real good."

His breath caught in his throat at your bold words, his heart pounding rapidly. With a shaky exhale, he met your gaze, the intensity in his eyes burning brighter than ever before.

And then, in a sudden surge of boldness, he surprised you, flipping you onto your back as you let out an amused squeal. But your laughter was quickly drowned out by the heat of his lips crashing down on yours.

He kissed you feverishly, with a messy and desperate hunger that left you breathless. He clung onto you as if you were the very air he needed to survive. He was devouring you as if you were the most delicious meal he had ever encountered, and he savored every moment, every sensation, swallowing your desperate moans.

And then he pulled out and you whimpered at the loss but any hint of disappointment vanished as you watched him shed his last piece of clothing. Then with deliberate slowness, he reached for your panties, his eyes locked on yours as he dragged them up your leg, savoring the sight of the damp fabric clinging to your skin.

When he finally discarded it on the floor, he wasted no time in grabbing one of your legs. With deliberate tenderness, he began trailing soft kisses along the inner part of your thigh, each gentle press of his lips sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body. Your breath quickened as you watched him, your heart pounding in your chest.

"I'm not going to be rough," he whispered, his voice low and husky, his eyes never leaving yours as he planted soft kisses right at the edge of your drenching heat, teasingly close to where you craved him most. He then crawled over your body, settling himself between your legs, his gaze locked on yours.

"But I am going to use you," he murmured, his words sending a thrill of excitement coursing through you. "You'll let me do that, won't you?"

As he hovered above you, his weight supported by his arms, you watched a strand of his outgrown hair fall over his eyes. With a gentle touch, you reached out and tucked it behind his ear, a soft smile playing on your lips as you nodded in response.

"Say it," he urged. "Tell me you're mine to use."

You met his gaze, your own eyes dark with longing and anticipation. "I'm yours," you whispered, and when you felt his tip pressing into your entrance once again, you gasped. "I-I’m yours to use."

In one swift motion, he filled you again with a hard thrust that had you arching your back, a strangled moan escaping your lips as pleasure surged through you. "S-Spence..."

"Good girl," he praised, his words sending shivers down your spine as he kissed your cheek. His hips began to roll into you, setting a rhythm that drove you wild. "My good, pretty girl."

You whined in response, the sound music to his ears as he continued to thrust into you at a steady rhythm. He relished the way you responded to him, the way you surrendered to the pleasure he was giving you. He wanted to use the way you were satisfied, to use the way you wanted him, to take you to the brink of ecstasy.

He wanted to use you in every way possible, to make you his in every sense of the word.

Spencer never considered himself a possessive person, but when it came to you, he wanted to be the one you surrendered to completely. And in this moment, he had never felt more in control. It was intoxicating, the power he held over you, the way you willingly gave yourself to him.

That was why when he felt you clenching around him, knowing you were so close to your peak, he stopped. He wanted to draw out this moment, to savor every sensation, every sound you made, every breath that escaped your lips. He wanted to draw out your pleasure until you were begging for release, until you were completely and utterly his.

"Why—" you gasped. "Why did you stop?"

He smiled down at you. "Because I want to make you feel good, Angel," he whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "And I want to take my time doing it."

Your head fell back, and you couldn't help but bite your lip to suppress a moan. His use of the term Angel always had a way of melting your resolve, and you knew he was fully aware of the effect it had on you.

"Be patient," he chided before burying his head in the crook of your neck, nipping at your skin gently. Then, he resumed moving his hips, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. It felt incredible, but you couldn't shake the desire for him to fuck you harder.

"More," you cried out, feeling as if you were in a deep haze.

"Yeah? Spread your legs wider then."

You whimpered at his simple command, your shuddering legs gradually spreading a few inches wider. It was becoming harder to breathe from the way he was pushing you into the mattress, but you welcomed the pleasure, craving more of him.

Your hands clawed at his back, leaving crescent-shaped marks from your nails as you desperately sought something to hold onto. The intense pleasure coiled tightly in your gut, making you feel as if you were gasping for air while your head swam with overwhelming sensations.

Your moans became more fragmented with every stroke of his hips, your thoughts clouded by the pulsating ache between your legs. All you could focus on was the overwhelming sensation building within you, traveling along your body. You were so close—and then it stopped.

It simply stopped right at the edge, and you couldn't feel anything but a raw need. It was incredibly frustrating as you caught him smiling down at you. You whined and bucked your hips, chasing the tight warmth you had so suddenly been denied.

Your breath came out in short, ragged gasps. "You're evil," you managed to say, your voice trembling with need. "I-I was so close..."

"Too soon," he murmured against your lips, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed his lips to yours. "Just imagine how good it'll be once I finally let you come."

Spencer then slowly pulled away, his eyes tracing every detail of your trembling form—the way your mouth was slackened open, the way your hair sprawled across the sheets, the way your eyes fluttered closed yet struggled to remain open. He noticed them glistening with unshed tears, on the verge of falling, and a pang of guilt tugged at his heart.

He knew he was pushing you to your limits, but he couldn't help himself. He was simply using you, just like you asked him to. But seeing the tears welling in your eyes, a wave of tenderness washed over him, and he leaned down to kiss them away, whispering soft words of comfort.

"Shhh, it's okay," he murmured. Although his words were spoken softly, there was nothing gentle about the way he continued to fuck you. "You can take it. Hold on a little bit longer, I promise."

A choked sob escaped you as he pressed soft kisses to your cheeks, murmuring soothing words. One of his hands reached between you, settling on the lower part of your stomach before pressing down gently as he felt the outline of cock moving inside you. He let out a groan, overwhelmed by the sensation.

"That’s it, Angel," he murmured, his voice filled with admiration. "You're taking me so well."

You whimpered almost pathetically as everything started to blur. You were a sweaty mess, both of you were, his skin gliding along yours effortlessly as he continued to thrust into you. The sound of wet skin slapping against each other filled the room, so sticky, so messy, but you didn't care. All that mattered was the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

The throbbing between your legs was starting to burn, but at the same time, it felt so good—the way he was stretching you, the way you could feel him moving in and out of you. Every stroke sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, it was all too much but also not enough.

"S-Spence..." you whined, your head spinning with pleasure, almost too delirious as drool seeped down the corner of your lips. "Pl-Please, I-I can't—"

A soft chuckle escaped him as he watched you struggle to form coherent words. "Alright, alright, I got you," he murmured reassuringly. "On three now. Can you be a good girl and come at the count of three?"

You nodded weakly. "Yes, yes," you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of your ragged breaths.

"That's my girl," he praised, his voice filled with satisfaction. "One..."

Your breath hitched as anticipation built within you. Obscene wet noises filled your ears as he continued to fuck you, and with each number, his thrusts grew more deliberate, more intense.

"Two..."

You whined and he swallowed your moans, capturing your mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. You couldn't form any coherent words. You couldn't even think. It was too fucking much and you were on the verge of your breaking point.

And then, on the final count, he drove into you with such force that it sent you hurtling over the edge, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

"Three," he whispered as he pulled back slightly, a string of saliva connected your parted mouths.

You gasped, holding onto him tightly as waves of pleasure consumed you. Your senses overwhelmed, your vision blurred with white-hot intensity, and tears leaked from the corners of your eyes as you teetered on the edge of overstimulation.

T-Too much—You can't. You fucking can't.

The sensation never seemed to end and you found yourself surrendering to it, your mind going blank. It was as if you were intoxicated by the heady sensation, your senses dulled and heightened all at once, drunk on his touch. Your body felt so wet, so sensitive, so overwhelmed by the sheer force of your climax.

And when you thought it couldn't get any more intense, he proved you wrong by rutting his hips even harder with so much force as he chased his own high. He tucked his head in your neck, his hot breath fanning across your skin as he moaned into your ear. With a few final thrusts, he drove into you deeply, his body tensing as he released himself inside you.

You were tired, so overwhelmingly spent, and as you both came down from the high, you gasped and trembled, your body finally relaxing from the pent-up tension. Your eyes felt glassy and unfocused, blinking slowly as you registered his murmured praises against your neck and shoulder.

He gently pulled away, and you winced as you felt him still throbbing inside you. Slowly, he searched for your eyes, his gaze filled with tenderness, and sighed in relief when you looked up at him with a tired yet blissful smile on your lips.

He smiled softly, relieved by your response. "You're okay."

You nodded, still feeling a bit dazed. "Hmm," you murmured, running your fingers along his damp hair. "I'm more than okay."

He leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You did so well," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "I'm so proud of you."

You giggled. "Me? I never thought you could be tempted to do that so easily."

He chuckled softly, brushing his nose against yours. "You have that effect on me," he confessed. "Besides, it's hard to resist you."

"I am pretty irresistible, aren't I?"

"Absolutely," he replied as he brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face. He shifted his weight and started to pull out, only for you to wrap your legs around his waist, locking him in place.

"No, no," you pleaded. "Stay inside me for a while."

He paused, looking down at you with a smile. "We need to clean up."

"And we will." You ran a hand over his shoulder. "Just... give me five minutes."

He sighed, his resolve melting under your pleading gaze. "Alright, five minutes," he agreed, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. "But then we really need to clean up."

You responded with a soft hum, snuggling closer to him as he shifted toward the empty space on the bed. With a gentle gesture, he pulled you on top of him, enveloping you in his arms as you sprawled across his body.

You let out a sigh, tucking your face into the crook of his neck with the rhythm of his heart beating against your own. And as you savored the sensation of him still pulsing inside you, you smiled peacefully—you have never felt so complete.

I'm tempted to turn this into a series of one-shots where he and Reader explore new kinks together... or like how they try to navigate their relationship. I'm really, really tempted.

#gifwriting #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencerreid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fluff #Fanfiction

2K notes · View notes

sugurism · 2 months

Text

FLAGS EVERYWHERE. ୨ৎ are jjk men green, beige or red flags?ㅤheadcanons

featuring ♰ㅤmultiple. (choso, higuruma, megumi, nanami, gojo, geto, sukuna, toge, toji, yuji, yuta)

warning(s)! ♰ㅤNO PRONOUNS AND ANATOMY FOR READER. SFW (?) — toxic behavior ! cheating ! breaking-up mentions ! very much made based on personal opinions + i tried to write the characters off as canon as possible, but my favoritism will probably show ! sukuna is a warning of his own tbh ! violence + blood + death (mentions) ! cannibalism (mentions) ! angst (mostly) ! some are implied yandere ! not really dark content but i will tag as so just to be sure, some of them are dc vibes ! mentions about marriage + having kids (biologically and not) !

୨୧ CHOSO KAMO — beige flag.

not the reddest flag of the list. although, still has some fails. . .

this may come as a surprise to many, but choso is not a green flag. he’s perfectly in the middle, i think. not nearly as bad as others on the list, but his track record isn't perfect, either.

BIGGEST RED FLAG? he's family-centered.

choso is, as is well known, a man completely focused on his family. the joy of his brothers and relatives is his priority, and he will always be more focused on others than on himself (this could also be a red flag, he is quite selfless). he carries the burden and honor of being a big brother. of course because of his love for you, you are as much a part of the family as his siblings are.

however, if you don’t get along with his siblings for any reason, it’s very likely that the relationship won't be able to continue. it would be troublesome if you can’t take his true nature ── as a half-curse ── well, too. it would really upset him, because love is about acceptance and care.

DO YOU NEED TO BE A SORCERER?

the answer is: no, but it is preferable that you are. being a sorcerer, you would have a much easier time understanding the abnormal aspects of his life (him and his family). if you’re not a sorcerer, it makes things a little chaotic. choso wouldn't want to lie to you about who he really is, his origins, and obviously, he would be prevented from introducing his (monstrous) brothers to you in that circumstance.

this would make him reflect for a long time, which ends either with a breakup, or with him showing you everything about jujutsu. living under a false identity and with a life built on lies is not how he wants the relationship to be.

WOULD HE CHEAT ON YOU?

absolutely not. choso is aware of how heartbroken you would feel if he ever did that — besides, it's not like he feels desire or romantic love for anyone else. he has no reasons to cheat on you, and he never will have.

OTHER OBSERVATIONS.

choso has good intentions, but romantic love is a new and unknown field for him. this makes him inexperienced and often irrational towards romance. the information about relationships is too fresh and unprocessed for him, and it's all from the dead brain of the vessel he inhabits. he is not completely unaware about all of it, but his lack of experience shows.

he is very hasty and believes that the status of “boyfriend” is not bad, just that “husband” would be much better. if you don’t see a future, why would you be with him? he doesn’t understand when you correct him you are just dating and not married (you've been together for barely two months).

choso is not the type to let fights happen without reason, and he tries hard to make things work out, but he’s constantly overprotective and his affection can quickly become suffocating.

choso loves family. he wishes to expand it someday. and who would be better to help him besides you, his true love? besides taking care of his brothers, he would like to be a father himself one day (at least, a better one than his own father was), and there is this underexpectation — not exactly spoken out loud until he is confronted about it. choso wouldn't want to pressure you, and he would understand your choices and respect your decisions perfectly if you don’t want to have children, however, he gets a little sad over it nonetheless and always wonders if you would change your mind if he asked more nicely.

of course, we can’t forget the amount of people he killed (in and out of shibuya). this is a factor that is rarely talked about and choso doesn’t even think about it anymore, honestly. if you can ignore that, good! if not? well. . .

୨୧ HIROMI HIGURUMA — green / beige flag.

objection! he did nothing wrong (except for, at least, 22 murders, i guess).

BIGGEST RED FLAG? married to his work.

this is a completely personal view, but it’s hard to date someone so busy and married to their work. pre-culling game, the grueling overtime and mountains of paperwork would constantly keep him away from you ── from dates, from nights together, from romantic trips. furthermore, his ideal of justice is always dangerously close to failure in practically every situation hiromi faces, and this is a source of stress for him. he wouldn’t take it out on you, there’s no reason, but of course. it’s difficult to balance so many hours of work and such an important goal with personal relationships.

it’s not that he forgets commemorative dates, he merely doesn’t have time to celebrate them themselves. when he can’t be there for whatever the occasion is, he’ll send some expensive gift and an apology card, or call you and start a conversation for eight minutes to explain why he forgot your second anniversary. it’s common for him to come home, and you’re already asleep. you simply don’t have time.

in the culling game situation, it’s not so much work that keeps you apart, but training, focus and purpose. he focuses more on your protection and his than on romanticism, which can end up creating emotional barriers that are very difficult to break ── on both sides. hiromi is accidentally cold quite often. and that’s if you ignore the number of people he had to kill.

DO YOU NEED TO BE A SORCERER?

honestly: yes and no. is a simple question with a difficult answer. hiromi prefers someone who can understand him completely: his feelings, his work, what he wants the justice system to become, and his vision of justice. so when he finally receives this new power that not only matches all of this but can make it possible, it’s very complicated to have a partner who doesn’t understand this new part of your life. he’s another person who wouldn’t lie to you about his nature. he swore to tell the truth, always the truth, and only the truth.

if you are a sorcerer, things get easier and harder. a relationship with hiromi has certain nuances, such as his constant concern for your safety, regardless of what you are (sorcerer or not). he believes in your own strength, but would like to stick around just to make sure you’re going to be okay. his change between coldness and sudden closeness can make feelings very raw and difficult to deal with.

if you’re not a sorcerer, his protection gets even worse. he’s not suffocating because he takes care not to be, but he would genuinely go crazy if something happened to you because he was careless. anyone who touches you won’t come out alive and brag about it. he just wants you to be okay.

WOULD HE CHEAT ON YOU?

no. hiromi is loyal to all his oaths, whether they are about protecting justice or being by your side even in sickness and in health.

OTHER OBSERVATIONS.

he is very open and honest. it might be bad in certain situations, but it’s great for the bigger picture. he doesn’t hide his opinions from you and is willing to talk about almost any topic peacefully. fights with him are actually quite rare, because hiromi thinks it’s fair to listen to his side, then speak his own, and think together to see if you can resolve this peacefully. depending on the angle, this is another problem, in a way he tends to rationalize feelings very often.

despite all the negatives, he has a surprisingly good memory. he doesn’t forget special occasions, he simply didn’t have time to be there in person (which is still a con). but he remembers everything else about you. hiromi is the type to look at you with a slight smile on his face, looking like his words are going in one ear and out the other. but when you stop talking, he gets confused. “why did you stop? i want to know what happens next.”

୨୧ MEGUMI FUSHIGURO — green / beige flag.

honestly, a good option. if you’re able to catch up.

megumi is a better boyfriend than people would think, honestly. the issue, with him, is more about himself and his view of himself than you ──, but it still affects the relationship and your experiences together as a couple.

BIGGEST RED FLAG? no respect for his own safety.

as a jujutsu sorcerer, it’s perfectly common for megumi to get into situations that risk his neck. it’s as much a part of the job as anything else. the problem is his willingness to put himself in danger for the sake of a greater good, or greater goal that he needs / wants to achieve. he is bold and reckless, and can be very harmful to both him and you.

other than that, he’ not necessarily a very bad boyfriend. megumi doesn’t have as many communication problems as expected, although he can put up fights — especially on this specific subject, trying to justify his lack of care with “doing what was necessary”.

dying to win is not an idea he is opposed to, until someone (like you or gojo) puts some sense into him.

DO YOU NEED TO BE A SORCERER?

not really. megumi would love you regardless of your ability and strength ── and would find qualities to admire anyway. he doesn’t think you’re incapable of protecting yourself, and a part of him is tempted not to introduce you to jujutsu if you’re not a sorcerer. it would be a fully, normal thing in his life, but he wouldn’t want to lie to you in any way.

WOULD HE CHEAT ON YOU?

definitely not. megumi has way too much respect, admiration, and above all, love for you to do something atrocious like that.

OTHER OBSERVATIONS.

megumi is reckless, but at the same time he listens to what you say and can slowly learn to take care of himself in a more efficient way through your words and worry. he doesn’t forget precedents or dates, and he takes good care of anything you’ve given him. his shikigami love you, sincerely, so he would be happy if you could see them and interact with them ── because they are a reflection of their owner and end up showing all the affection he feels for you and doesn’t have the courage to show it.

he’s not cold or distant, just more reserved, but he could be more vocal about his feelings instead of dropping hints and hoping you understand what he means. everything about megumi is soft, even when it shouldn't be.

his inclination is indoor dates and having alone time with you that doesn’t involve his friends in any way. he has nothing against any of them ── they are dear people to both him and you, megumi is just inclined towards privacy and doesn’t want your time together to be interrupted. especially if you are a busy person who doesn’t have much opportunity to spend time with him.

despite being quiet, he is a little jealous often. not on a controlling level or anything like that, but he could easily end up making greater gestures to reinforce his dominance over your heart ── a treasure more precious than any cursed jewel. grabbing your waist gently and pulling you closer when he notices someone staring is not an uncommon occurrence.

୨୧ KENTO NANAMI — green flag.

i have nothing to say besides: you’re lucky — really. this man is a blessing.

nanami is honestly the ideal kind of guy no matter what life you want to lead. He honestly tries to balance his personal life with the work he so fervently hates, and he understands and helps you doing the same.

BIGGEST RED FLAG — emotional walls (eventually lets them down).

one of the few things that are not respectable about this man is that he really takes a long time before showing himself vulnerable in any way, shape, or form. nanami's experience makes him a very cold and harsh guy on the outside, but with well-defined morals and a heart of gold. he's also inclined towards privacy, just like megumi, and would prefer if you didn't get too involved in his circle of friends (more because of gojo than anything else, really).

DO YOU NEED TO BE A SORCERER?

no. not really. nanami appreciates the normality and calmness that can come from a life with you. he genuinely doesn't care if you're a sorcerer or if you're the head of the marketing department.

impressively, he's not as protective as others on the list. of course, he worries about your safety, but he doesn't doubt his own ability to be there to protect you if needed.

WOULD HE CHEAT ON YOU?

no, never. nanami is very adamant and loyal to you in all situations — he can't be tempted by someone else, because all he desires is you.

OTHER OBSERVATIONS.

as already mentioned, nanami prefers that you not get involved in his social circle, especially if you are a non-sorcerer. this is due to the fact that his senpai is clueless and could often create very uncomfortable situations. furthermore, he is afraid that you will be interested in more of his acquaintances and end up discovering/getting more involved with jujutsu.

he's very supportive of pretty much every decision you make ── as long as it doesn't hurt you and doesn't seem rushed without thought. he makes a point of looking for you for conversations that he considers necessary and punctuating whatever is needed.

nanami is very analytical too. if the two of you set a goal, agree on its repercussions and after a long time, decide on it ── like, for example, having a family ── he works hard to make it happen. it is not uncommon for him to agree to work overtime to receive a salary bonus to prepare a surprise for you, or support you better. he doesn't doubt your independence in the slightest, but he would like to constantly give you gifts as thanks for your divine presence in his life.

kento is very kind and basically the height of chivalry. for those who say that romanticism is dead, it's because they've never seen your boyfriend tying your shoelaces, carrying you on his lap, taking you to romantic dinners and making dinner for the two of you.

୨୧ SATORU GOJO — beige flag.

strongest sorcerer, a charming man, and good at flirting. although, an actual relationship? oh, boy. . .

satoru isn't necessarily a bad boyfriend per se. he's far from the worst option on the list, but he genuinely has a lot of problems that would make a relationship fall apart.

BIGGEST RED FLAG? emotionally unavailable.

satoru's personal experience has made him carry the burden of being the strongest sorcerer during his entire life. it's his identity to nearly everyone else — the satoru gojo, and not just satoru. it feels set in stone.

he doesn't have close friends or a support group that he feels he can genuinely trust fully since suguru's betrayal. this rubs off on you and makes him avoid really emotional conversations or directly saying what he's feeling — even when it's necessary. it's almost impossible to make his emotional walls come down, and if they do, he'll probably act a little sour for a while ── a kind of reflex, where he's wary of the idea of being betrayed once again.

being vulnerable is not his strong suit.

DO YOU NEED TO BE A SORCERER?

no, but it's preferable that you are. not only because you would understand him and his capabilities much better, but because as a sorcerer you would have your own worryingly long workload, and wouldn't make such a big deal about him almost never being home. at least, he thinks so, but he wouldn't avoid a relationship with you if you weren't a sorcerer.

also, he gets worried about you constantly — he has lots of enemies that could try to hurt you to get to him. if you're a sorcerer, at least he can believe more easily that you can defend yourself.

WOULD HE CHEAT ON YOU?

personally, i don't think he would. as already mentioned, gojo's inability to be with just one woman is, in my view, his inability to be vulnerable and honest.

OTHER OBSERVATIONS.

personally, i interpret “satoru is the type of man who cannot be faithful to a woman” precisely because of the emotional problem. he can't be vulnerable and that only gets the relationship to a certain point before it stops working completely. it's very, very difficult to get past the defenses he's created for himself, and there's always the chance he'll get scared and decide to leave.

the gojo clan isn't really a hindrance ── what are they actually going to do, argue with their only relevant member? ── but they can be quite uncomfortable. the person with the strongest sorcerer needs, in their view, to be “proper.” this includes: being a sorcerer and having many strong children for a new generation.

if you do not meet these requirements for any reason (not wanting or not being able to have children), the clan is unfriendly towards you. this doesn't stop the relationship in any way, or it doesn't stop you and satoru from getting married one day, however, it is quite awkward.

regardless of whether you are a sorcerer or not, there is a gulf of difference between satoru's lifestyle and yours. while he doesn't have difficulties with money or power ── and maybe you do ── this means he can't quite understand what it's like to be in your shoes. he's not unfriendly, but his arrogant and defensive nature can really lead to a silly fight or two that escalates depending on the situation.

୨୧ SUGURU GETO — red flag.

i love suguru, but he’s undeniably not an ideal partner.

i don't think there's much doubt about whether geto would be a red flag. he is. even if you consider his nature in the relationship more than his personality itself, it's still the case.

BIGGEST RED FLAG (besides the genocide nature)? — manipulative.

as a very skilled cult leader and orator, suguru has an indescribable charisma and a well-directed charm ── be it to convert those he calls monkeys or to enlist sorcerers to his cause. however, this charm can also be used on you and your relationship.

intentionally or not, he ends up trying to convince you of the same things he does. either his own distorted belief ── or his apologies become attempts at manipulation. he's not beyond gaslighting you, either. he learns what type of action provokes a specific reaction from you and ends up acting very artificially sometimes.

the benevolent cult leader persona he uses on non-sorcerers mixes with the real suguru geto, and that's definitely something scary to have in a relationship.

DO YOU NEED TO BE A SORCERER?

yes. there's just no other way. sorry, it's geto.

WOULD HE CHEAT ON YOU?

not really. capturing geto's attention isn't really an easy thing, and maintaining your position as his partner is just as hard a task. i don't see him having eyes for anyone else, because i feel that if you were in a relationship, he would need to have some kind of attachment to you and wouldn't want to hurt you on purpose.

despite this, in those ridiculously impossible situations — if he could achieve the world he wants by sleeping with someone else, would he do it? then the answer is yes. but i don't know if that counts.

OTHER OBSERVATIONS.

he is more married to his cause than he would ever be to you. he will not change for you, nor he will abandon his dream. that's a thought you can't let go of your mind when you're with him. no matter your own actions and beliefs, the new world must be created using any and all means necessary. no price is too high, no one is too innocent to be sacrificed.

being around someone like that would not only be exhausting but terrifying. there is always the uncertainty of what he would do if you left him. on the one hand, suguru doesn't want to hurt you. on the other hand, as his partner, you would know too many valuable things to just leave. he would never let you go like that.

it's very important not to forget that suguru definitely suffers from delusions of grandeur and high expectations of himself and everything around him. whether it's about the new world, his role in it, or about you. he faces some frustration when this expectations are not met, but he does his best not to take it out on you.

he might even "forgive" the fact that you don't actively fight to kill non-sorcerers, like he does, but he wouldn't want you to interact with them other than when it's absolutely necessary. furthermore, suguru would require absolute hygiene. don't touch him if you've been too close to a non-sorcerer. in cases where you have shaken someone's hand or hugged someone, he will refuse to talk to you until you wash your hands or take a shower.

and if you see non-sorcerers as people, as lives who matter, it will be absolutely worse. it would certainly be a very frequent topic of discussion between the two of you, so opposing views would make the relationship unsustainable. but staying silently by his side makes you accomplice — the blood of all these people will be on your hands, because you knew.

you knew and you did nothing to stop him, nonetheless.

୨୧ SUKUNA RYOMEN — red flag.

do i have to say anything? nevermind. i’ll pray for your soul instead. lord have mercy on you — because sukuna won’t.

if you were so unfortunate as to capture the king of curses' attention in this way, i can only be so sorry.

BIGGEST RED FLAG? he's sukuna.

it's hard to know where to start when naming his worst red flag. would it be his violent nature? his overall behavior? the sadistic desire for death and the total lack of morals? sukuna knows nothing but power, and has no respect for anything other than himself or equivalent strength. it makes your relationship with him less of a romantic thing — and more like an owner-pet relationship.

DO YOU NEED TO BE A SORCERER?

i'm inclined to say yes, because it's difficult to see where sukuna would be interested in a non-sorcerer. regardless, i guess it doesn't really matter as long as you fit his twisted and bizarre criteria, somehow.

WOULD HE CHEAT ON YOU?

no, but not for the reasons you think. love is an unknown and irrelevant concept to him, so what really stops him from cheating on you is not moral. it's desire, or rather, the lack of it. no one is as interesting as you in that sense.

he wouldn't cheat on you simply because there is no one else he wants like that. but not in a romantic sense, like nanami. it's like someone who is so engrossed in one thing in particular that in comparison, everything is gray and rotten.

OTHER OBSERVATIONS.

there's very little i can describe without being extremely dark compared to other reviews. sukuna would play with you until he got tired, and when he did, he would send you to the pot and enjoy a nice dinner.

i think the closest thing that can be called showing affection from him is when he asks uraume to be extra careful with the meat this time. he had, somehow, a strange feeling for you that he didn't understand. even tired, he wouldn't forget a human who fascinated him so deeply. furthermore, it would be agonizing for other sorcerers and humans. sukuna would not be actively looking for replacements, but sincerely. if he was, he would be disappointed. sometimes he turns to bark a mean comment, just to not see you there, and murmur oh, right, knowing very well he is the reason.

despite this, he may feel some kind of affection for you. sort of. the kind of pity you would feel for a beggar on the street, or the feeling you have for a pet, in some way. he would never see you as an equal. an interesting creature, but beneath him, as it is your place.

none of this would ever stop him from killing you if you became a nuisance, though.

୨୧ TOGE INUMAKI — green flag.

few words, but a lot of action and gentleness.

after a horror show committed by our favorite cannibal, a good look at our favorite ingredient talker should cool us down nicely. toge is actually the type to act instead of talk, because, well. . . salmon?

BIGGEST RED FLAG? bad communication.

even if you are a great sign language interpreter, there will be communication problems in your relationship. sometimes you may not understand what he is saying, or the other way around.

this is not a fatal defect, but it certainly exists, and needs to be addressed accordingly. furthermore, it is difficult to have serious conversations or argue. it's very annoying not being able to have a serious dialogue without hearing an onigiri ingredient in response. but it becomes a bit habitual for you and it doesn't make that much of a difference — it's the way he needs to communicate and you understand. toge understands how difficult it can be to communicate with him and does his best to help the process.

DO YOU NEED TO BE A SORCERER?

i'm tempted to say absolutely not, but if you're not a sorcerer there's no chance of you having a relationship without you at least knowing about jujutsu. in any case, you will be inserted into this world and this context, but honestly it doesn't matter to him. as long as it is you.

WOULD HE CHEAT ON YOU?

no, not at all. man can barely speak to his friends, how could he even chat with someone else and cheat behind your back? despite all the jokes, it's not really toge's thing.

sure, he can't directly tell someone else he's rejecting them — again, communication —, but he just needs to show his ring and they'll leave him alone. usually. he does not entertain flirtation from anyone who's not you, though.

OTHER OBSERVATIONS.

loving toge is as calming an experience as it is chaotic. he wants to do everything that “more normal people” would do too. for example, going on dates in big, crowded places — even if a part of him screams internally when not being able to talk to you like these people do. and honestly, even when he merely wishes for the simple, he just wants you to be happy and enjoy. your relationship is something very important to him, and there would certainly be a doubt if he can be a sorcerer and be your boyfriend at the same time. inumaki's lifestyle is not really something anyone wishes for their significant other, after all, but he was willing to try.

despite not being able to speak, he always has a cell phone and a notepad at hand. it's common for you to find small notes and loving notes, or his messages. love messages, messages asking how your day was, messages telling you that you forgot your lunch — giving him the perfect opportunity to just slip away and personally hand it over to you. he turns down the collar of his coat to return your smile when doing so.

toge also has a habit of sending you pictures like cute cats and a small love poem. he never wants you to feel appreciated — and everytime his friends tease him for smiling like a fool to the phone, he murmurs an affectionate “okaka”.

୨୧ TOJI FUSHIGURO — beige / red flag.

already experienced with love, a hurt heart can literally end everything.

the experience of being in a relationship with toji can be the happiest thing in your life or the most toxic addiction possible. it really depends on a single factor: is he able to love you truly, even after mamaguro? he'll be the only character in this list with two “separated” versions.

BIGGEST RED FLAG? emotionally distant / inconsiderate.

in a world where he can love you just like he loved megumi's mother, toji has a lot of emotional baggage that is difficult to deal with. his job is dangerous, he had an extensive past with another woman and an abandoned son, it's a lot for both him and you. it's very difficult to get close to him at first, but he slowly opens up and is willing to change and improve his life, getting a new start with you. one he won't lose.

in a world where he can't love you, he just doesn't care. you're just another partner he hooks up with occasionally, and he makes that clear. he's not interested in anything serious, not marriage, not anything. you are not the love of his life and you will not be. and if you feel bad about these words? well. you're out of luck.

DO YOU NEED TO BE A SORCERER?

definitely not. he couldn't care less in any case.

WOULD HE CHEAT ON YOU?

again, that depends. if he loves you truly, hell no. anyone who comes to flirt with him while he is in a relationship with you will be ignored and likely humiliated if he persists. if you managed to capture this man's heart, congratulations, he's all yours.

if he doesn't love you — yeah. pretty much. then it's more about if he wants someone else than your feelings.

OTHER OBSERVATIONS.

there's not much to say about toji's part and his role in a relationship, except that it won't be easy in any case. the past is the ghost that haunts every man, conscious or not. and his is full of blood, guts, tears and lost love. being willing to deal with this is not only necessary but something he won't forget. it's very difficult to win his loyalty permanently, but if you do, you simply have to worry about it anymore.

if he does not love you, it's very likely that he will eventually leave you for someone richer. money is mainly what would keep him in a relationship — sex is just a bonus. when some of those ends up being too difficult to get (or when these things are missing), his lack of emotional attachment makes him easily turn around and leave, to never returning again.

୨୧ YUJI ITADORI — green flag.

a very good option! the problem is that it is not long-lasting.

yuji is a sweetheart, really. definitely not a bad choice (one of the best ones in this list!). although, he has a very unfortunate destiny in front of him.

BIGGEST RED FLAG? he's way too selfless.

being selfless is a great quality, but in cases like yuji's, things go overboard very easily. he doesn't have as much respect or admiration for himself as he does for other people, and this can definitely be very damaging to his mental health and, consequently, your relationship.

he takes risks for his friends and strangers, he swallows cursed objects, he does his best to save lives — and he blames himself under fail, despite it not being his fault. he's the kind of man who carries the weight of the world on his shoulders, and doesn't want you to exhaust yourself trying to share it with him.

DO YOU HAVE TO BE A SORCERER?

not really, but if you're not, the relationship ends very quickly and suddenly. yuji wouldn't allow himself to tell you about jujutsu, being the vessel of sukuna, and anything that puts you under risk. this includes staying close to him.

he wouldn't break up with you just because you're not a sorcerer, he just values your safety too much and is afraid of what could happen. if you are one, he feels slightly relieved you won't separate, but still tense. you can still die.

WOULD HE CHEAT ON YOU?

he would never. never, ever. you're his love and he could never betray your trust like that. in one occasion, he said he wouldn't cheat on you even if it were with jennifer lawrence.

OTHER OBSERVATIONS.

the most important point to make is that yuji will undeniably die. he would be executed, and he thinks he should be, and that was the order given since he made a mistake that day. one day, and his life changed forever. having a relationship with you is one of the few lasting joys in his life, but when it ends for whatever reason, it will hurt more. maybe he'll try to break up with you sooner and move away so you don't feel so upset about losing him.

yuji is also the guy who was thrown into the context of the jujutsu world in a very unfortunate situation — he can be very slow to understand some things and, if you are a sorcerer, fearful. he understands that many sorcerers have important reputations to maintain. maybe you have too. in that case, wouldn't it be better not to have a relationship with sukuna's vessel in your past? what if the higher-ups antagonize you for that, and your career can't succeed? he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable about the topic, and he often doesn't say what he's feeling directly. yuji doesn't lie, but he omits.

he is very anxious despite his constant positive attitude. sukuna likes to mess with yuji's mental health, and he knows how much you mean to him. yuji would purposely turn away from you very often, terrified that somehow, the king of curses would kill you simply to laugh at his expense. he can't lose you — the ironic thing is that maybe he would lose, distancing himself so much.

୨୧ YUTA OKKOTSU — green / beige flag.

not bad, but. . . very questionable, nonetheless.

last, but not least! the implicitly yandere yuta okkotsu — not by far the worst option we have out of all of them here, but. he has almost unforgivable habits.

BIGGEST RED FLAG — rika (?)

everyone agrees that seeing your boyfriend's first love as a bloody, inhuman ghost is a pretty uncomfortable experience. in your case, it is an uncomfortable and constant experience, happening practically on a daily basis. although rika is much more controlled nowadays, and she is more a manifestation of technique than a soul in itself — it's not the kind of thing that anyone just finds normal. even sorcerers.

unfortunately, your boyfriend's late first love is kind of always there anyway. he still wears the ring he needs to connect with her, even if he gave you a different one. it's strange and sometimes it gives the impression that either you are a replacement, or that you will never reach that level of affection. you're the other woman in your own relationship.

DO YOU NEED TO BE A SORCERER?

again, no. but it's preferable that you are. all the difficult issues of being a sorcerer would be better understood if you were one yourself. it would also avoid him lying to you / hiding jujutsu from you. furthermore, yuta is a paranoid mess.

he always imagines that the second he's not around, you're going to get hurt. he cannot stand even the weakest curses near you, crushing them like repulsive insects.

WOULD HE CHEAT ON YOU?

no, unless you consider rika and his “relationship” with her.

OTHER OBSERVATIONS.

honestly, the time you have with yuta always seems to be under the influence of an hourglass, limited. ready to end at any second, where his work will be a constant interruption. he tries and tries very hard not to let this undermine his relationship, but it can become an occasional problem. he had to spend long periods of time in other countries, and it hurts for him to be so far away.

yuta is strangely clingy. you can't expect anything less. he's the kind of boyfriend who can easily become overprotective in a way that's not cute. always guiding you to one side on the sidewalk, one hand around your waist, staring deathly at any man who gets too close. it doesn't matter if it's his friend or a mutual friend of yours, there is a certain distance that everyone must respect when it comes to you. except him.

besides being like a cat (very skittish with some people, invades your personal space very frequently), yuta is very demanding in some aspects. he really hates it if someone flirts with you, even though he wouldn't take that frustration out on you. after all, it's not your fault and it would be unfair. but he's very adamant about not having any secrets or personal things he doesn't know about. secrets kill people, and he can't bear to lose you.

despite all the lessons he learned with rika, sometimes you end up wondering if he will curse you too, if you end up dying. you ask him about it. if he would. yuta doesn't answer.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. I APOLOGIZE FOR ANY MISTAKES. thank you for reading! <3

1K notes · View notes

dollfaceksj · 6 months

Text

still don’t know my name | jjk (m) pt. 2

➥ banner by: @archivedkookie.

➥ PAIRING: jungkook x fem!reader

➥ SUMMARY: In which your annoying neighbor—that you can’t stand—turns out to be the person behind the online account you’ve been sexting. You still don’t know his name.

➥ GENRE: smut ⋆ cybersex ⋆ enemies

➥ CATEGORY: mini three-shot

➥ WARNINGS: mentions of rough sex; slapping, spanking, hair pulling, gagging, name calling, humiliation, degradation, mean!jk, biker!jk😋, bratty!reader (like reallll bratty), nude exchanging, pornography, cybersex, reader is a bit dumb, actually very dumb, sexting, flirting, neighbor beef, tension, jk smokes, bit of angst (cus it wouldn’t be a fic of mine if it didn’t have angst ofc), mentions of raw sex (WRAP IT UP), minors DNI

➥ WORDCOUNT: 11.8k

a/n: whew. HI. can’t believe pt1 went off like that😭 thank u sm for enjoying this fic !

thanks to tumblr’s new 1k max blocks limit, i had to add the rest in a reblog. you’ll find a link to it at the bottom!

i call this a mini three-shot cause i just left out all the unimportant stuff. it just constantly skips to scenes where yn & jk bump into each other i really dgaf if it’s coincidental the entire time. i had and still have no intention of adding more lore than necessary😭 its just a pwp so i rlly dc abt the lack of story telling and whatnot i just wanted to get this horny idea out 🙄

make sure to check out eli’s version too! <3

enjoy 😘😘 — the next part (pt. 3) will be the final part!

⋆ TAGLIST ⋆

⇠ PREV. ⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ NEXT ⇢

#2 — “gameboy”

You still don’t know his name.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

And that is how you spend the rest of your weeks.

Flirting.

Sexting.

Sending pictures of your naked body to a random stranger on the internet.

A random stranger whose name you do not know.

A random stranger that doesn’t know your name, either.

A random stranger that you’re somehow slightly possessive over.

A random stranger that’s somehow slightly possessive over you.

Constantly posting subtweets about each other only further proves that. Indirectly wanting to tell other people to back off without actually doing so.

It’s crazy how you two clicked almost immediately. Maybe men aren’t a lost cause after all.

The subtweets consist of more pornographic content, provoking each other and wording your wishes of what you would like to do to one another on your timelines.

Like posting captions that say, ‘wish you were here’ alongside a video of a woman getting fucked into a worn-out mattress.

Or ‘this could be us’ and it’s a video of 2 people kissing like it’s their last day on earth.

But then at times, you both just chat like best friends. Talk about the movies you like. Or the anime he recommends. Or the music he likes to listen to. He gets oddly defensive about Justin Bieber.

Even though you’re both aware that you’re two strangers, you can’t help but feel like you two have known each other for longer than just a few weeks.

Like the time you found out you live in the same timezone. Live in the same state. Grew up watching the same things on TV. Have heard of each other’s high schools.

But any details have been kept private so far—for safety reasons, of course.

It’s not like you don’t trust him. It’s not that. It’s just weird sharing personal info with someone you don’t know personally.

But there’s been some talks about potentially meeting each other.

You wonder what he’s like in real life.

You bet he’s as charming as he is through text. Probably average looking but you don’t mind in the slightest. Pretty men only break hearts.

You still don’t know what he looks like and vice versa.

You still don’t know his name and vice versa.

Somehow you both wordlessly agreed on revealing your faces when you meet for the first time. The only physical details you’ve noticed are some of his tattoos that you can barely make out thanks to the poor quality of his pictures. His toned body. Veins. Sweatpants.

Most of his pictures are taken in the dark. Seems like he’s always just holed up at home and you deduce he might be a homebody or a gamer—something like that.

You usually can’t stand gamers (cue your annoying fucking neighbor) however, you can’t help but fantasize about sucking this random online stranger off while he’s gaming or have him bend you over his gaming setup. Let him fuck you from behind over his keyboard. Hips pounding into your asscheeks as his gaming chair squeaks.

The buzzing of your phone next to your hip snaps you out of your sinful trance.

[Twitter]

@archurback4me sent you a message!

Your heart always jolts like it’s been resuscitated every single time he sends you a message and that hasn’t changed in the past few weeks. There are simply no words to describe how it feels when your phone buzzes and it’s the person you’re thinking about.

You sit straight up on your couch, crossing your legs criss-cross applesauce as you giddily unlock your phone.

@archurback4me | 11:12AM

Goodmorning brat

How’d you sleep

Sleep. How’d you sleep.

Right, that’s what you’d forgotten!

You | 11:13AM

wait omg

now i remember

i dreamed about you omggg

well you were kinda faceless but in my dream i knew it was you

@archurback4me | 11:13AM

Did you?

What kind of dream

You | 11:13AM

honestly it started out weird as fuck lol

i wish i could tell you something sexy but it really isn’t

you were in my old high school trying to buy something from the vending machine and it wouldn’t work

so you ended up punching it and then i stopped you

and told you to hit me instead like some kind of pick me girl lmaoooooo

@archurback4me | 11:14AM

LMAOOOO

Bruhhh

That is so random

Hitting you is crazy

You | 11:14AM

i know

i mean

watching you be so aggressive was pretty hot tho

woke up w drenched panties

@archurback4me | 11:15AM

That so?

You got proof or are you just talking out of your ass?

You | 11:15AM

ur trying to see my pussy at 11am? really? you’re horny at this hour?

@archurback4me | 11:16AM

11AM or 11PM

Idgaf

Let me see that pretty pussy

How are you supposed to decline when he says it like that?

You want to do everything he asks. Anything. Want him to want you. Need him to want you.

You drag your sweats down your legs, tossing them off your bed with a quick kick. The tip of your finger slips under the elastic of your panties, peeling it off your pussy and sliding it to the side.

Arm stretched out, you reach for a low angle of your glistening pussy. There’s a teeny tiny bit of stubble coming through, not that either of you really care.

You snap a quick photo. Check it. Aren’t satisfied. Snap a few more until you’re okay with the row of pictures you can choose from.

You | 11:19AM

(You sent a photo.)

@archurback4me | 11:21AM

For fucks sake

That wet from imagining me shaking up a vending machine, are you?

Shit

Can’t stop staring

You | 11:21AM

well yes.

i mean honestly

i don’t fantasize about you hitting me or anything like that

but being slapped across the face by you kind of sounds... hot

@archurback4me | 11:23AM

I’ve seen you tweet about it before

And you’ve rted several videos like that

So trust me

I know you’re into that

You | 11:23AM

hmm

yeah

i think it’s hot

but not like.. the way you’d slap someone for making fun of your mom

just... a quick slap to make me look at you when i’m disobeying

@archurback4me | 11:23AM

Choking, spanking, slapping, hairpulling, spitting, gagging

You sure you can take all that?

You | 11:23AM

are you challenging me?

@archurback4me | 11:25AM

I know better than to challenge a brat over text

Just wanna make sure angel

You | 11:25AM

trust me i’ll be loud about it if i don’t like it

but only if you’re down with it

@archurback4me | 11:26AM

I am

Because your dirty mouth definitely deserves a few slaps whenever you start yapping like you do so well

You | 11:27AM

kiss my ass jay

you wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid lmao

Oh, right. He’d told you to call him Jay about two weeks ago. You’ve been calling him that ever since.

@archurback4me | 11:30AM

Wish I could princess

Let me see that ass one more time

You | 11:30AM

🙄.

what do i get in return?

@archurback4me | 11:32AM

I’ll write your username on my pelvis and post a vid of me jacking off

Oh.

The thought of him, jacking off with your username written across his pelvis, free for everyone to see. The thought of claiming him. Having him all to yourself.

The tingle in your core is impossible to ignore. You want him.

You | 11:33AM

so all those ppl chatting you up in your dms know that you ultimately belong to me?

@archurback4me | 11:33AM

If that’d allow me to see your ass then 100%

You | 11:33AM

ur so thirsty

so many asses you can see online

why mine

@archurback4me | 11:34AM

Because yours is my favorite duh

You don’t have to of course

There’s a compromise, isn’t there?

His favorite?

Does he chat with other people as well? Do others send him pictures of their body too? Does he send them pictures too?

That alone brings a scowl to your face but you quickly realize that, yes, he can do what he wants.

You get up on your knees and stretch your arm out behind you. Phone upside down. Hit record. Spank your ass. Catch the watch it recoils on camera.

Repeat.

Make him never want anyone else again.

You | 11:35AM

🙄.

just shut up

(You sent a video.)

@archurback4me | 11:35AM

Holy shit I need you

I need you so bad

Ahhhh you’re driving me fucking crazy

You | 11:36AM

you could have me

@archurback4me | 11:36AM

I’m so serious I’ll come one of these weeks and I’m not even joking

You | 11:36AM

i wish you would

@archurback4me | 11:38AM

I will

Give me a date I’ll write it down

You | 11:38AM

you’re coming to stay for a few days, right?

i have plenty of room in my bed for you

@archurback4me | 11:39AM

Hmm

Was hoping you’d say that

One night with you would never be enough for me

You | 11:40AM

hehe

exactly 3 weeks from now

the entire week

what do you say?

@archurback4me | 11:42AM

Never noted something faster

I have a dog though

So I was thinking it’d be easier for you to come to me

You | 11:43AM

i don’t mind you bringing your dog

luv dogs

but don’t think i forgot about what i was gonna get in return for sending you my ass

@archurback4me | 11:44AM

Jeez

He doesn’t reply for quite some time. The typing bubble doesn’t pop up either.

But after several minutes a new tweet pops up on your feed.

He didn’t caption it. Just a video that starts with his abs. You watch as his fingers trail down his stomach and tug his underwear down, revealing his squiggly inked skin.

And there it is, ‘@bratgaIore’ written across his pelvis in black marker.

He spits in his hand and wraps his fingers around his shaft, stroking his rock hard dick at a perfect pace. The sound has been turned off and you really wish it wasn’t but then again, you don’t want anyone else hearing him.

Want him sounding pretty for you. Just for you.

You’ve clearly been staring at the video for too long because you get a new message.

@archurback4me | 11:54AM

Happy?

You | 11:56AM

holy shit

you actually did it

@archurback4me | 11:57AM

Of course I did

I don’t play when it comes to that ass of yours

You | 11:58AM

now im rlly horny

@archurback4me | 11:58AM

Aren’t you always

You | 11:58AM

thanks to you

i hate you

@archurback4me | 11:59AM

That’s fine

The feeling’s mutual anyway

Gonna enjoy the way you fall apart under me when I fuck you

Fuck you until you’re stupid

You | 12:03PM

a dream come true

guess what

@archurback4me | 12:04PM

Hm?

You | 12:06PM

(You sent a photo.)

The photo is a picture of your soaking wet pussy with his username written on your pelvis in black marker, too.

@archurback4me | 12:08PM

What the fuck

You’re trying to fucking kill me angel

I need to insert my tongue immediately

You | 12:09PM

here come the harvard graduates

insert is crazy

@archurback4me | 12:10PM

You drive me crazy

Pussy got me acting all formal and shit LMAOO

Got me wanting to wear a bib and say Itadakimasu😋 when I dive in

Fuck

Want you on my face so fucking bad

Spank you while you ride my face

Don’t think I’ve ever seen something so pretty

Think my mind will change when I see your face though

You | 12:11PM

LMAOOOO not itadakimasu😭😭😭

hmm

you like it?

@archurback4me | 12:12PM

Are you insane

I keep going back to it

You should write my username when we meet so I can see it when I take your clothes off

Know that your pussy belongs to me

You | 12:12PM

if you do it too

@archurback4me | 12:13PM

Deal

You | 12:13PM

hehe

😋.

btw

@archurback4me | 12:14PM

Hm?

You | 12:14PM

are you clean

@archurback4me | 12:15PM

What?

You | 12:16PM

are you clean

for raw sex

@archurback4me | 12:16PM

Yeah I am

I’ll send you my results when I’m home

You | 12:16PM

you don’t have to do that i believe you

i’m clean too

where are you rn?

@archurback4me | 12:16PM

Just left to meet a friend

You | 12:17PM

you’re not texting and driving right

@archurback4me | 12:18PM

Of course not, babe.

How am I supposed to meet my dumb girl when I’m dead?

I’m going by foot

Babe.

My dumb girl.

This is dangerous territory.

You | 12:19PM

just like how i want to be the death of you as i tease you while ur in public

@archurback4me | 12:19PM

Don’t

I’m warning you

I don’t wanna meet my friends with a raging boner

I just got rid of one

You | 12:20PM

ur so easy lol

@archurback4me | 12:22PM

Just you wait you little brat

Gonna leave you so fucking sore when I’m done with you

No breaks

Fuck you the whole week long

You | 12:23PM

hmm

gonna fuck me like you hate me?

@archurback4me | 12:24PM

I do hate you

A lot

Dumb girl

Don’t think that’s gonna change when I see you in real life

Might get even more pissed off when I see your bratty mug actually

I just know your face is so fucking bratty

You | 12:25PM

you’d be obsessed with me

i’m really pretty

@archurback4me | 12:26PM

Lmao yeah I probably will be

I’m sure you are

Gonna defile your pretty face when I cum all over it you stupid brat

But my friend’s here

I’ll ttyl princess

You | 12:27PM

can’t wait

bye daddy

@archurback4me | 12:27PM

Hell nahhhhh

Don’t call me that

You | 12:30PM

ok then bye mr. fuck-you-everyday-of-the-week

@archurback4me | 12:30PM

And will

Night after night

You | 12:30PM

go already

byeeeee

@archurback4me | 12:32PM

Bye princess

You go about your day like you usually would and later that night, he ends up sending you his results anyway. You were already asleep by then, though.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Want to keep reading? The full chapter is out on my Wattpad.

Click here to keep reading.

a/n: thanks to tumblr’s new max 1k blocks limit, i’ll have to figure out how i’m gonna post the full thing on here. (probably tomorrow or friday) either by combining paragraphs or add the continuation in a reblog or something. but its out on wattpad so i hope you’ll forgive me !!

thanks for reading <33

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Here’s the link to continuation (in a reblog).

— enjoyed it? you can always show your appreciation by buying me some coffee if you want ☕︎♡

@mygdday @coletaehyung @btspurplesky @kaitieskidmore97 @marvelbun @nini_07777 @8514238 @llallaaa @s3l3n0phil3 @agrika @ahgasegotarmy116 @canyon-lwt @boyfriendtaekook @s4yok0 @mochminnie @chimmisbae @muah-minhoe-8 @bloopkook @whoa-jo @dreami-yoonkookie @earth2fae @kissyfacekoo @keroppitae @junecat18 @hollowtree11 @jksusawife @synnfulqt @pamzn @jknoah @jjk-jeongirl @busanstarkoo @busanboykoo @codeinebelle @taegicity @bettybloop @kookssecret @MMFranklin @vickyyy97 @suciedad-divina @jkslipppiercing @heyyolly04 @partyparty-yah @kooact @osakis-gf @luna-astro-star @plushjeno @jjk1iscoming @Heyrobitches @sunnysorasworld @raineo @jjanjankook @etaerealboyv @somehowukook @larryrulesthisfuckingworld @rrrapmonste-rr @denisaandreea20 @httpjeonlicious @jjeonjennie @dellalyra @optimisticmoongalaxy @ishizhans

3K notes · View notes