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#it's seen as *immoral* almost it feels like
yandere-daze · 9 hours
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Hello first time anon here!
I had questions about your yandere genshin academy au. Does a yandere ever pretend to be a darling, kind of like the inverse of the current situation? I was wondering because if they have a darling that was turned off by yandere actions and wouldn't allow others to get close, this would be a way to earn their trust. Also do darlings ever turn yandere or are they just born one way or the other?
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Hello, welcome to the blog! I hope you´re having a good time here ^^
These are a lot of good questions so let me just give my opinion on them one by one!
tw yandere, normalized yandere behaviour, mentions of obsessive behaviour, stalking, blood
I think in an AU like this, yanderes don´t try to hide their yandere tendencies as much as they normally would. These sort of yandere x darling relationships are kind of idealized actually and so they often don´t see a reason to hide their own intentions.
I mean surely their beloved darling can see that they´re perfect for each other, right? What the yandere feels is completely normal so why should they feel ashamed and try to hide the way they feel for their beloved? What´s wrong with following someone home or sending them love letters covered in blood? Aren´t they just being romantic?
So in most cases, I´d say yanderes wouldn´t really try to hide.
One exception I can see is in the early stages, when they aren´t 100% sure how their darling feels about yanderes. Because you see, apparently there are people out there that see yandere behaviour as "immoral" or "unhealthy"? It´s almost unthinkable but these poor people must have had these misguided thoughts put into their heads...
So because the yandere can´t be quite sure about their darling not being so "unreasonable" they might be inclined to hide their obsession for a while until they´re sure. And acting as their darling´s friend is a good way to subtly get rid of their other friends too! And besides, a close friendship can often lead to romance, right?
2. Hm, I wouldn´t really say that darlings are born that way. Yanderes and darlings aren´t really different species so to say. Yanderes aren´t born like this either. These types of behavior emmerge similarily as they do in real life. Obsessive feelings and possessive urges can develop throughout a person´s life experiences.
Sometimes they only turn into a yandere once they´ve met their beloved for the first time.
How people become yanderes isn´t any different in this au, it´s just how that type of affection is seen in society that´s the difference.
So yes, under the "right" circumstances, whether that being a traumatic event or a lot of stress and pressure, a darling can turn into a yandere themselves.
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Tag list:
@charming-mage @blueventss @tonightwrites @lady-of-the-sith-leia-skywalker @kio-may @heartsforseo @1aplepi @shiki-jin
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as a general rule, on average, if americans consistently complain about a food being conceptually weird, gross, and scary, then it probably tastes amazing. or at least inoffensive.
this is because in my experience americans for the most part (give or take a few exceptions by region) think eating literally anything other than beef, chicken, bread, eggs, peanut butter jelly sandwitches, ketchup, and disgusting cloyingly artificial brown sludge soda is insurmountably weird, gross, and scary.
#a lot of people literally refuse to even eat ham or pork#not even for like religious or health reasons#just because they think eating anything but beef and chicken is 'weird and scary and gross'#every time i hear people going on en masse about how 'weird and an acquired taste' something foreign is i go and try it and i'm just like#what the fuck were all of you smoking. where is the unbearable weirdness i am supposed to be experiencing#shoutout to that time i kept hearing about how bizarre a flavor milkis soda is and how intimidating and acquired of a taste#then when i actually try the stuff. it's just fucking peach soda. it's peach soda with a faint tangy yogurtish taste. it makes good floats.#how in the absolute fuck is anything even remotely weird much less gross about this?#unless your concept of what a 'soda' should be is poisoned by a lifetime of the entire soda aisle being filled with nothing but brown sludg#from the same 3 brands that all taste like what would happen if they could distill the concept of diabetes and artificial flavoring syrup#i don't know if other countries have this but there's this weird cultural like mandatory rejection of any 'unusual' food here#way more intense than i've seen from anyone from any other country (though that might just be inexperience with other cultures talking)#people react to the mere suggestion of any food outside a very narrow range with outright disgust and genuine fear and horror#and there's a huge amount of unspoken peer pressure on everyone to also do the same#like you're expected to agree with them and you've breeched some sort of silent social contract if you don't#it's seen as *immoral* almost it feels like#it's difficult to describe unless you've noticed it yourself#americans react to the mere suggestion of eating anything outside of the same 2 meats and handful of fillers the same way#that pearl-clutching aristocrat grandmas react to hearing that people in foreign countries do.. basically anything#it doesnt matter if you're suggesting eating ube cake or suggesting eating live bugs because people will react the same way#everything that's not chicken/beef/ect is as good as bugs to people here#hate this stupid blandass country and how impossible it is to afford any food other than burgers if you're not rich#or blessed with relatives that have any idea how to cook and are at all willing to teach you#cause nother weird thing i've noticed about food culture-or at least wasp food culture-that i haven't seen anywhere else quite the same way#is that if you DO have any relatives that know how to cook then nine times out of ten they will jealously guard their recipes like a dragon#and refuse to share them with anyone#thus taking whatever little cooking knowledge was in the family to their grave#so the opportunity other people usually have for family bonding via passing on recipes? pffft no.#for some reason we seem to actively go out of our way to prevent these things from being passed on#i don't know what the fuck is up with that but i suspect it has something to do with 50's dinner party oneupmanship
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hazelfoureyes · 2 months
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I just need you to know this story has had me in a chokehold and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I am enjoying writing it. This is gonna be a weird smutty slow burn, so still smut every post but full p in v sex will be a reward you have to work for?
⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall
Part 1 - Pretty in Redsmut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedysmut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦
A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.
「warnings/tags: HumanAlastor x FemaleReader, implied attempt to SA, fingering, plot with porn?, Multi part work, bad kind of choking, blood kink, blood licking, just in general blood, Non-Sex repulsed Ace Spectrum Alastor, stalking, murder obvs, finger sucking, smoking kinda kills if you squint, Public sex acts, garter belt, You have a stage name but no one important uses it, Greed, Lust, Human Alastor is a little different than Demon Alastor. 」
minors dni 💅🏽
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Part 1 Pretty in Red
The marriage between burlesque and jazz wasn’t unexpected. Before the Great Depression took the nation into a stranglehold, both Jazz and Burlesque were immoral wastes of time only the most barbaric sought out.
And oh, did you love it. Everyone who was made to feel like nobody flocked to your theater and the surrounding neighborhood. Men, women, the people who didn’t agree with either. The biblically inclined, those closer to sodom, the sapphic dolls. Everyone was equal in the halls of jazz rooms and theatres where burlesquers were welcome.
Because of the inclusive nature of such places, you often saw familiar faces. It wouldn’t be unusual for someone from Thursday night to be seen Saturday at a different locale.
That presented certain opportunities and challenges. When you found a good mark, it was easy to be wherever he was and play it off as fate and common interests.
And when you gained a new stalker, someone wanting a personal show, it could be hard to tell until it was too late. 
Maybe it was your greed, or just your love of attention, but you found yourself focused almost entirely on a particularly well dressed man one evening. You’d seen him around before. Clean cut, sharp suit, a welcoming smile always on display. He looked like he had money, the most attractive quality of any man you could meet.
So focused on his gleaming stare from the side booths you hadn’t noticed the man at the stage front tables. You barely noticed him the night before, or the night before that, either. Because Smiles, as you took to calling the handsome stranger in the back, had been here three nights now too.
You really put on a show. Shimmying your hips, ostrich feathers following suit with every move. Your brassiere was heavy with shining rhinestones, panties of silk and lace. Your set was almost done, all that was left was to remove your top and slink away behind the curtains to hollers and whistles. Back turned, you unhooked the painful bra and let it fall to the stage with a clunk. Foot in front of foot, you stalked the stage length. With your hand hidden from view you took the feathered fan from the stagehand behind the curtain. As the music crescendoed you turned, fan unfurling just in time to hide yourself.
Groans, mass begging from the audience. Your stage name a chant now, a prayer. “Autumn! Come on!”
As the band slowed, music dying to mark the end of your number, you scanned the crowd. Eyes blinking coyly, you mouthed, “More? Did you want more?”
People were jumping to their feet, not Smiles but that was fine, you were focused now on the adoration of the crowd. The music ended, a second of silence. 
You winked, the drums hitting one last beat as you let the fan close.
Fanfare! Men whistling, women clapping. Someone shouted a marriage proposal. You took a bow, twirled on the balls of your feet and slipped gracefully behind the curtains.
Your hands wound to your spine, rubbing blood flow back into your skin as the staff removed your headdress. Someone slipped your robe over you and you nodded a thanks, aching feet carrying you to the dressing room. It was chaos, as usual. Women buzzing around, tits and ass here and there. You smiled. You happened to enjoy this part of the job. Soft bodies in shiny costumes, lovely smells and sweet voices. If you could get dressed quickly enough, you could still take a tour of the room and slide into Smiles’ booth. 
“Enjoy the show?” You’d ask. He’d lean in, maybe blush, “Always when you’re here.” Or something like that. You’d cozy up to him, flag down a waiter for something strong and pricey, and get him properly drunk. He’d wake up outside, fine and dandy except his missing cash. 
You’ll call him a drunkard if he confronts you, accuse him of getting himself robbed after you refused his advances. You’ll say it too loudly, and he’ll run off. 
You danced a little in your seat, another game of cat and mouse about to commence. But first, a smoke.
Unbeknownst to you, the well dressed man hadn’t come to see you. He preferred your singing shows at the little dive bar two blocks over. No, he had come for the man at the front table. For weeks now, he had watched him harassing the ladies of the few joints in New Orleans that weren’t regularly hounded by police. Your smiley mark even heard stories of unsavory acts, many women leaving the dance scene entirely after.
He didn’t care for it. He didn’t care for him. So he took to his hunt, following the man to come to his own conclusions. The pattern of behavior was obvious, and though he hadn’t seen what ended the last obsession, it was clear one of the performers at this club was being stalked as the next victim. 
He watched your dance with half lidded eyes, just as much as he watched the man give dirty looks to the other men cheering. Heard the, “Marry me!” shouted at you.
Yes, it was obvious to him now. 
So when the target of his interest got up and pushed his way into a staff only door, well, the well dressed man was sure to follow. 
The great thing about confidence and a nicely tailored suit is that no one questions you about why you are where you are. So while the brute he tailed had to shove past people to get wherever he was going, people smiled and made room for the gentleman who was not far behind.
He caught the street access door before it closed, allowing it to stay open just a sliver. Enough for one golden brown eye to watch the events unfold.
“Can I have a light?” The stranger asked you. You looked at him, then to the staff only entrance he just came out of. 
“I don’t think I know you….,” you handed him the lighter but he instead leaned into you, cigarette hanging from his lips. “You… new?”
You sparked the flint with a practiced thumb, taking three tries to get it lit, and put your hand out. The man didn’t budge, eyebrows rising, “You really don’t recognize me?” He asked, motioning with his hand to come closer. Your eyes glanced down the alley, cars slowly moving past the street. When you looked back, the man took your wrist in his hand. He held you so tightly that the muscles in your palm locked and you dropped the lighter. 
“What the fu-,” his hand came across your face, halting your sentence.
“I’m your best customer. Every show. I’m the one who brings flowers.”
Dozens of men bring flowers, especially on the weekend shows. You held your cheek, skin burning. Your hand pulled back, the corner of your lip bleeding from his rings. Scrambling, your mind was searching for the right words.
With a forced smiled, your shaky voice finally piped up, “Oh! Yeah! Oh geez. I am so sorry, doll. I’m just so tired, and the alley is so dark. Here, let’s go inside so I can get a better look at you.” You tried to take your wrist from him but he didn’t loosen up.
“Nah, you ain’t tricking me. You owe me.” He pulled you into him, large hand gripping your face with ease, “You can’t lead on men like this and think you don’t gotta answer for it.” He kissed you, forcing your face into his. “Bitch! Did you fucking bite me?” He threw you into the tin trash cans beside the wall, knocking the wind out of you. 
No purse, no sharp object, not even a heeled shoe to defend yourself with. You cursed, so preoccupied with Smiles you forgot your wits.
You spit out the copper saliva, his blood and yours. “I’ll keep biting, too.” 
Why scream? The sounds of the next act were bouncing off the brick walls. Upbeat jazz and applause echoing around you. No one would hear you. Men can break your body but you never had to give them your dignity. Never give them the satisfaction of a response.
No. No screaming. You instead spent your energy trying to get to your feet. He took hold of your neck now, throttling you. It wasn’t what you had expected, but as he lifted you off the ground and your little dressing room slippers fell off, you thought this was actually better. 
“Well I think that’s quite enough.”
You felt warmth, then registered wetness. Your shin scraped on the asphalt as you were dropped without warning. Trying to open your eyes, you found you couldn’t see. Wiping and blinking away the foreign liquid, you watched your attacker fall to his knees.
Blood was shooting from between his fingers around his own neck, each pulse becoming weaker and weaker, evident through the stream.
When he finally fell over, drained, you were startled to see another man with you. The light reflected off his glasses as he adjusted them, the knife still in his right hand as he did so. 
“My, my. What a mess he’s made.” The man smiled down at you, offering a hand. When you didn’t immediately react, he cocked his head to the left, “Is that anyway to treat your rescuer?”
Is that was this was? A rescue? You took his hand with both of yours, pulling yourself up. 
Smiles? You blinked away the shock, time to shift into your next part. Damsel. You weren’t out the woods yet.
“You saved my life!” As you pressed yourself into his chest, you tucked your head beneath his chin. You tried to make yourself small. “I owe you! Please let’s go inside, drinks on me!” You looked up, batting your lashes.
“I don’t think that’s wise, dear.” His gaze panned down your dress, soaked through. He could see the thinking behind your eyes.
“No, right….,” You gripped his vest, “We gotta get outta here, fast. There’s a hotel just behind the threatre.” You started to pull his suit jacket off, slipping it over yourself. “No cops, the theatre will get raided. Just— take me somewhere safe?”
You watched him look you over, arm finally extending to let you hook yours with his. 
As soon as the hotel door closed behind you, you slipped off his jacket and ran to the dressing table mirror. 
Your face was painted red, navy dress now black and sticky. It was good you stayed from view of the reception staff. “I didn’t get my rescuer’s name,” you licked your thumb and rubbed at the blood around your cheeks. 
“Alastor. It’s a pleasure.”
You laughed, “Is that what you call a pleasure?” Turning, you pulled the mostly still dry handkerchief from your pocket and dabbed the corner on your tongue. You brought it up to the frame of his glasses and wiped the blood from the metal. “I’d hate to see what you call a bad time.”
Your hand slowed, noticing the way he was looking at you. Typically men’s pupils were blown when they fell on you, but his were constricted. They flitted around your face. His hand took hold of yours, fingers separating the thumb from the handkerchief. He pulled the little square of yellow fabric free with his other hand, allowing him to hold your thumb now by itself.
His lips opened, tongue licking the blood stained finger before placing it directly into his mouth.
Your stared, horrified, as he sucked the digit clean. 
His eyes fluttered close, finger popping out of his mouth with a debauched sound. You made no attempt to take back your hand. The realization you may have hopped out of the frying pan and into the fire set in.
“You are a funny one, aren’t you?” You tried to sound as in control as possible. Calm. Unwavered. Offered a timid smile. 
He chuckled, “You could say that. May I?” His fingers lifted your chin. You didn’t know what he was asking. His soft smile looked downright loving. He smelled so good, notes of something earthy rising above the copper.
You nodded, because part of you wanted to see where it would go. And part of you thought you didn’t have a choice.
As his face came to yours, you instinctually closed your eyes expecting a kiss. But no, instead you felt his tongue wipe across the cut at the corner of your mouth. His breath blanketed your cheek. Then his hand left your chin, the warmth of his body gone entirely. 
You opened your eyes to see him at the door, slipping back into his jacket, “I’ll pay for the night.” He tipped his head to you and exited the room back first, eyes locked with yours until the door closed.
You just stood there in the silence left behind. But as if on cue, the adrenaline waned and your knees buckled under you. You were moments from death, now somehow spared. But what had he— Alastor, been doing there? Did he follow you, too? The cat and mouse had been flipped, or perhaps now this was a fox and hound?
Gripping the dressing table, you pulled yourself up and into the view of the mirror again. Face streaked in dried blood save for the one clean spot where your lips met cheek. 
You felt like a ghost the next day. It would be nice to tell someone about what happened but, “Hey a man tried to kill me and then another man killed him! Then he licked blood off my face and I let him. It was the most disturbingly erotic thing to happen to me in months!” would get you tossed into a wagon. 
“Are you rude or just stupid?” The theatre manager pulled you aside by the arm when you came into rehearsal. “You can’t just disappear like that, people were waiting.”
Your eyes narrowed, “Was… my absence really the most exciting part of the evening? Not the John in the gutter?”
He huffed, “So that’s it? Got a beau?”
“Wait— nothing else happened last night? After I left?” 
“This show doesn’t revolve around you. Plenty happened.”
“Excuse me,” you hurried into the back, “And sorry!”
You opened the street access door and looked into the alley. Trash cans neat and tidy, no dead man, nothing strange or telltale.
You ducked back inside. Had Smiles done this? Obviously, actually. No stranger just cleaned up the dead body. If the flatfeet had found him, the club would have been under scrutiny.
Good, you thought, and went about your work.
Rehearsal dragged on. Little details summoning you back to the night before. 
“You okay?” Another performer asked, grabbing your hand and inspecting the blood around your cuticles.
“Oh it’s not mine!” You laughed, she laughed, you walked off before she could clarify.
When applying your makeup, you remembered his hands on your face. They were so soft. Definitely a man of means. A brief intrusive thought, the other hands on your face last night.
You pranced on stage, going through the motions of your routine. Even in the empty hall, your eyes wandered to the booth he’d been in. And as you took the stage in earnest later that night you searched the crowd for the glint of his glasses and found nothing shiny nor promising.
Back in the dressing room you took a moment to wonder what the actual fuck you we’re doing. He murdered a man in front of you, why were you hoping to see him again? He had half a mind to kill you next.
But would that really be so bad?  Your life was routine, boring even. The only thing keeping your lungs expanding was the applause. Maybe the headlines of your death would cause such an uproar, dancer struck down in her prime, that you could bask in the loving glow all the way from hell.
One way to remain famous, you considered. A dramatic death.
Not that you were famous. You weren’t part of the national circuits. Just your local theatres, a common face and body to the sinners of Louisiana’s most infamous city. But, well, fame is relative. For the scene you were in, you were your own little star. 
A shining light. Shimmering. The faint light reflecting off— Blood. For a second you could only remember looking through bloodied, heavy lashes. 
“You’ve been so out of it. Trouble in paradise?” Ruth, the curviest of your coworkers and arguably the favorite of the crew, rested her chin on your head. Looking at each other in the mirror, you offered a soft smile.
“I’ll letcha know when I get there.”
She pinched your cheek, “Tommy said you had a new guy. I just figured-,”
“That isn’t,” you clenched your eyes shut, “no, no guy. I just got locked out last night in the alley. The sticky-,” sticky and viscous blood, “back door wouldn’t open up. I didn’t want to come in the front in my slippers so I just hoofed it home.” 
She patted your head, “if you say so! Be careful out there though. Dangerous these days.” 
An understatement.
You enjoyed the spotlight, but more than that you craved the attention doted on you after. You’d walk through the hall to the bar to adoring looks and free drinks. It bothered you that Tommy was telling the girls you had a man. You didn’t want to appear too closed off, or for word to spread to the customers. 
Last thing you needed was men passing you by for more available options. Not that the pay wasn’t fine. Ends were being met, but grifting added an element of thrill. You really did love the chase. Finding someone and deciding he would be yours, he would fall under your spell and be at your feminine mercy. It made you feel powerful, almost mythical. And the money was nice. Sometimes you didn’t even need to steal, the men would just lavish you in gifts and you’d let it fizzle out naturally. Normally their wives would snatch them back or they’d just get tired of waiting for you to leave the stage and dance into their domestic dreams. A housewife? An adopted mother to a grown man during the day, a hungry nymph at night? For what, an allowance and a home you didn’t own? Pass. Where’s that handsome man with his knife? That was a much better steel to fall onto than what these men offered from their laps.
From your view at the bar you knew he wasn’t there. But with a nod you decided the chase was still on. You were going to get your victory. If anything, this would be easier. You had dirt on him. Blackmail would be simple enough. Bloody clothes and the perfect alibi; being a woman. No cop would think you took down that hulking man. 
Ah, right. There was no body.
That would be an issue. He had to have taken it somewhere. Just find him and follow. Worst case scenario, you play the usual game and steal whatever cash was in his wallet.
Well, worst case you die. 
You slept sitting up to keep your hair set, during the day your makeup barely was there but a red lip always the star. You had three nice dresses (well, you had had four) so you figured three nights to find him before moving on.
You slinked through the crowds of the hot and sweaty dance club Moxie. Swinging music kept bodies moving, and though you kept your eyes open you didn’t catch sight of this Alastor fellow. Which was fine! You enjoyed a few dances, swing always making you feel energized. Not a waste of a Friday night.
Saturday was easy, the lounge on fifth. Smooth jazz, plush chairs, rich men. Definitely a place you could imagine Smiles to frequent. The whisky was all top shelf, and many gentlemen offered you a lap to sit. Sure, no Alastor, but you didn’t go home empty handed.
You weren’t a particularly great singer, but if the room was small enough and the piano loud enough, you could please a crowd. Your friend had you on a semi-set schedule most Sundays at her little dive too many blocks from Main Street. Her darling played piano, you sat and sang to the couple dozen patrons stuffed into the one room bar. When you finished your set, you took your bows and looked for your friend. You needed to tell her you wouldn’t be staying. 
Your polite nods and gracious thank yous were abruptly ended by a tap on your shoulder, “You dropped this, miss.” You did a mental check of your purse before turning around.
“Oh, a sight for sore eyes. Mr. Alastor.” Your face lit up, you could see it in his glasses.
“You’re too kind. Here, I apologize for the delay. I wanted to return them clean.” In his hand was your yellow handkerchief, folded neatly. You took it and found it uncharacteristically heavy. 
When you unfurled it, your brass lighter fell into your waiting palm. Your thumb caressed the engraving. 
Alastor watched your face as the lighter tumbled out. “I figured it was important, given the condition and detailing.”
You tested the weight in your hand, “Did you fill it?” You looked to him incredulously.  He nodded.
It was a surprisingly kind act, and you needed a second to regain your composure. “I don’t know how to thank you.” Your quick wit failed for a moment, but rebounded fast. “Except with a drink. My treat. To my rescuer.”
He mulled the idea, your reaction to him was interesting. Alastor had thought if he approached you first you’d show a little more fear, or shock. But you looked downright chipper to see him there. 
“Unfortunately I don’t have much time tonight. I had just wanted to return your items.”
Your smile dropped. How did he know you were here? Had he been carrying— no, he said he had them cleaned. Had he seen you here before, before the incident? A chuckle, smile brought back, “My luck is terrible. You always flee me. I hope you don’t see my company as deadweight.”
Alastor’s smile twitched, eyes hidden behind the glare of his glasses, “Not at all! I think you’d find I’m quite comfortable with-.”
“Lugging people around?” You said. That constricted pupil again, eyes wild. A chill ran down your spine. Alarms were going off. Wrong answer. You straightened your back, popping the items into your purse, “Next time.”
Alastor nodded, “Yes. Next time, then.”
You fucked it up. You knew you had, but suddenly his words felt like a thinly veiled threat. 
You turned to leave and hadn’t seen his smile sour.
It hadn’t been a threat. He hadn’t anticipated you to notice the implication. Most people would have been so blinded by his charm they would fail to notice the glaring red flags. He was mildly impressed. You would be more trouble than he had expected.
Alastor knew he needed to do something about the clearly clever woman who was seemingly expecting him. He had followed you for several days, surprised to find you not spreading word about the murder. You hadn’t spoken to anyone, really. Even the man you left the lounge with, you just smiled and nodded nearly all evening while the man dominated the conversation. So, your sharp wit took him off guard. Who were you pretending to be? And why?
All of your cleverness fell apart when you tried to follow him. It was almost comical. He felt bad. This was going to be embarrassing for you.
He took several right turns and stepped into the park just outside of the bar. You thought perhaps he had gotten lost and considered turning around after you realized you’d lost sight of him. As you passed a large weeping willow, you were pulled under the curtains of hanging moss by your waist.
Back against the large tree, you could only pout.
“What are you after, stalking a man in the dead of night?” Alastor had you pinned, both hands on either side of your head. His body boxed you in, not that there was much more to see than moss and darkness.
You blinked several times. What a question. You answered honestly, “You.” He cocked a brow. Then you lied, “Your affection. Your time.”
Something akin to a giggle bubbled from his chest. “I don’t have much affection, but I have even less time.” Your eyes darted around, looking for your next move. “I-,” you grabbed him by the face and kissed him. When you broke the kiss he was staring wide eyed, glasses askew. He opened his mouth to speak and you kissed him again, longer, harder.
He seemed frozen under your mouth, lips taut. Your hands roamed his face, messing up his hair and glasses. Mind reeling. Play the nymph. Be the whore the men always said they hated. Be too strong, too forward, too much and he’ll run off like men do. You could try again another day.
Your hand reached for his lap, his hips instinctively jerking away. Perfect. Men these days can’t get it up for a woman who takes the lead. 
Alastor was entirely unsure what the fuck was happening. You were wildly unpredictable. When you grabbed at his dick, he thought his eyes would cross from the shock. Is this what ‘affection’ meant to you? He couldn’t understand it. Couldn’t understand you. Were you really just lustful? Even after what you’d seen him—
You bit at his bottom lip, pulling slightly. Big eyes looking back at him. Your breath was already running away from you, adrenaline seemingly synonymous with Alastor. Staring up at him, you waited. His move.
It was his turn to blink. He looked off to his left, eyes swinging back to you. With a shrug, he leaned his body back towards yours. His hand slid down the front of your dress; red silk. A deer in the headlights, you tensed. The rare third option; fight, flight, freeze. Soon his fingers were tracing the lace of your stockings, climbing up the garter straps. 
His eyes were studying your face. You didn’t want to give the wrong answer again, but at this point you weren’t sure any answer was right. This was taking a sudden turn and your foot was off the brake. You closed your eyes, opting out of the scrutiny of his stare. His hand met your stomach and began to slip down again. He rested it between your thighs, longer fingers and palm cupping the entirety of your sex.
Alastor struggled to decipher your expression. It was almost like a pout, but more subtle. You hadn’t said stop or pushed him away yet. Was he right? You were just… horny? As his hand slid back up and pried their way into your panties, you trembled.
It had been so long since someone else’s hand was on you. Someone whose hands you genuinely enjoyed, who you wanted to be on you.
Is that right? You wanted him to touch you? 
Maybe it was the stare, or the smile. Probably just the adrenaline.
His hand found its place again, middle finger bending to part your folds and feel your wetness. You whimpered, hand coming to cover your own mouth. 
“Is this what you wanted?” He said it low, a husky tone he didn’t have before.
No. Maybe. You nodded yes.
“Will you be satisfied now? No more tailing me?”
No. Probably not. Another nod.
His finger pushed in, and with a kind of greed you didn't recognize your hips ground down into his palm. He slipped in and out of you with ease. You had no idea when or why you got so wet.
“I always end up dripping around you, Alastor,” you whispered through your fingers. His ring finger joined. Why couldn’t you shut up? Why did you have to bring up, well, the murder?
“A common problem for those I take an interest in.” 
Oh no. You moaned softly into your hand. Sharp mind made dull by his fingers so you didn’t, couldn’t, process his double meaning. 
Oh no. The sounds of footsteps, a pair of lovers sneaking into the park for privacy. You heard their giggles, the sounds of kisses interrupting their walking.
“Shhh”, he breathed into your ear as he worked a third finger into your heat. One knuckle, two knuckles. A whimper. His hand came to press down over your own on your mouth, a second barrier for your mewling. You groaned, the sound coming from your throat.  
Whispers. The silhouette of the two interlopers was visible through the willow’s curtains. You watched from over his shoulder, pussy clenching around him. Three knuckles deep, bottoming out.
Fuck it. You moaned freely into your hand, wiggling down onto his hand. Hips rolling, you let your little sounds of praise flow.
The couple laughed, “That’s the spirit!” A man said, a woman hushing him and pulling him away.
Alastor grinned into your neck, immensely amused. He would have better luck predicting a dice roll than your next move. 
You hadn’t realized how hollow you’d been until now, feeling so full. When alone, you focused on just cumming, fingers on your clit and mind on memories. You never bothered much with anything else.
Your hunger intensified. You wanted more. Both hands reached for his crotch again, finding nothing there for you. You could have cried. How were you a wet mess pressed against a tree and he was soft as a newspaper in a rainstorm?
Your pride stung. Men usually stood at attention around you. A half sob into the air earned you a chuckle from Alastor. “It’s no reflection of you, darling.” His nose nudged your ear lobe, “I need a little different stimulation than most.”
“Do you play for the other team?” You considered how you could momentarily switch. 
A louder laugh, “I don’t have a team.” He leaned back now to look at you. His freehand came to press on your lower stomach, gently pushing your womb down. Your brows knit, why did that feel so good? Hands going to the tree behind you for stability.
“Sure feels like you know how to play. This is-,” his hand switched from thrusting slowly in and out to moving front and back. It sent vibrations up into you. Your eyes rolled close. Shut up. Stop talking. Focus. Close.
He kissed around your open mouth, “Well, it’d be unamerican to not dabble. When necessary, or when the conditions are right.”
Double speak over, “Just tell me what to do to get you to fuck me.”
Alastor’s head fell back as he laughed earnestly, most likely alerting anyone in the immediate area. “Ha! No, this is more fun.”
“Oh fuck you,” you brought a hand around to your throbbing clit to quicken your release.
“Maybe next time, dear.” He took a second, fingers in you sliding around your walls in search of something before finding his place and continuing. Your breath noticeably changed, instead of panting you were practically holding it in. You needed the pressure, you needed something to squeeze that spring of pleasure down so it could snap back. As your face went flush, he kissed at your temple, “You look so pretty in red.”
“Oh god-,” Your head fell onto his chest, your joint effort bringing you to orgasm. 
“A little late on Sunday for prayers, don't you think?”
A tiny scream into his suit pocket, his hand not stopping until your thighs finished twitching around him. Even after his hand stopped moving you gripped him by the wrist and rolled onto his fingers a few more times. The pleasure ebbing but still spiking every time he moved against you. 
Ah, greed. That was it. He understood a little better. This wasn’t lust, not alone.  You were definitely a mix of the two. With a sigh, you released your hold and let him slide out of you. Already you felt lonelier. Already you wished to start over.
With his dry hand he smoothed out your dress. You weren’t ashamed but you suddenly felt too embarrassed to look him the eye. But you did, hearing him hum as he sucked his fingers clean. 
Why were you only ever in his mouth in the strangest ways?
“You always taste so sweet, dear. Now!” You wanted to say something clever and salacious like, ‘there’s more where that came from’ but he didn’t afford you the opportunity. He offered you his hooked arm, “It’s dangerous in the park at night. Let’s get you to a cab and on your way home.”
“Is this a hobby of yours?” Your legs were wobbly but otherwise fine. “Illegal activities in public?”
“Funny, I was just wondering the same of you. Stalking is a crime, dear.”
You bit your lip. “Touché.”
He flagged down a taxi, “Tell him where to go.” You slid into the back seat and half-whispered to the driver. Alastor leaned into the passenger side front window and after paying the man, went to close your door, “You’ve been an entertaining sparring partner. Goodbye, sweetheart.”
With a thud of the door and a growl of the engine, you were driving away from him. You could see him in the rear window. He didn’t dare to move, he didn’t need you following another step of his.
Which was unfortunate for him, as you were already scheming how to find him again.
༻Masterlist༺
∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):
@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,
@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @angelicwillows
🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions
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konigsblog · 10 days
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i think about this a little too often...
synopsis; kidnapped by a ‘photographer’ who spares you no mercy.
photographer, kidnapper-könig thots™
tw/cw; rape, non-con/dub-con, dark fiction, sexual assault and assault, kidnapping, the dove is dead. dead dove: do not eat. 🔞
photo credits; x_bruisedpeach_x on x/🐦
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if someone had warned you that the sweet boy who had approached you down the street claiming to be a model photographer was in fact a violent man, who'd kidnap and beat you until you were unrecognisable and nothing but a bloodied mess on his dirty basement floor, you wouldn't believe them.
könig came across as calm and relaxed, he seemed sweet when you spoke to him, with a surprisingly quiet voice for someone of his size.
at first, he came across as threatening and intimidating as he towered over you and gazed at you creepily before finally speaking up, but after inviting you down the road for a coffee together to talk about his photography career, you had agreed eagerly to come around to his house to take some photos together and act as a model for him. you should've been alarmed from the start when a random, old pervert had asked to take pictures of you, but the thought and dream of becoming a model left you blind to any and all danger, falling for his depraved, immoral plan to kidnap a pretty little thing like you for himself.
when you stepped into his house, the atmosphere shifted suddenly and completely. könig no longer radiated a sweet, calm energy that you once knew of. instead, könig was no longer smiling sweetly, but instead a sickening grin curled the sides of his mouth with terrifyingly wide eyes staring into your soul, enough to scare you into silence. you choked on your words as könig began to inch closer before dragging you downstairs into his basement by your hair. his grip was tight, firm. he held your hair in his fist and would drag you, throwing you downstairs despite your wails and mortified screams. it's a shame that he lives in a secluded area, far from any other neighborhood or town, where nobody would hear your wails for help.
you were a vulnerable and naïve mess. he almost felt guilty and remorseful for this treatment when he threw his fist at you repetitively, seeing how you'd eventually come to take his beatings out of horror and terror, blood running down your chin from your split lip. you were too gorgeous for any other man and he worried someone would take you away for themselves. he didn't want people to recognise you from the missing person posters put up around the city, with your face plastered on all the pictures, so instead, he left your face swollen with marks, making sure that you were always bruised with a slap, punch, or spanking.
although one thing was true. not his attitude and the persona he put on, the façade of a kind-hearted boy. the truth was that he wanted to take photos of you, but not for modeling, for his own sick enjoyment, gratification, and pleasure.
the basement wasn't like any other modeling shoot you'd seen in movies or television shows. instead, there was a metal table that könig had strapped you down to, and one large camera recording the entire thing. you were stripped naked, your dignity stripped alongside your clothes. you couldn't fight it, not when you were weakened and understood what would happen if you cried too loudly and irritated him or distracted him for his work, or used your sharp nails and canines against him as weapons.
bare on his table, könig began to record despite the obvious discomfort and mortification in your wide, glossy eyes. the flashing red light left you ashamed, feeling too raw and exposed with your legs forced open and your puffy cunt for him to admire and grope. he'd pinch and clamp your sensitive clit, until you sobbed out painfully, only to be forced to take his girthy and lengthy size for hours on end until he had his fill for the day. although könig warned you not too weep too loudly, he desired the sound of your sobbing, to harden his already stiff cock.
nothing would stop könig from raping every hole you have, to use these videos and pictures for his own personal usage.
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heesdreamer · 1 year
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give it time
PAIRING ➩ heeseung x reader
SUMMARY ➩ being jakes twin sister, your reputation followed you around wherever you went. add on the fact you were a known man eating playgirl with a thing for nerds and you were heeseung’s worst nightmare
GENRE ➩ playgirl!au x inexperienced!hee
WARNINGS ➩ sexual scenes (no full smut sorry guys) and light slut shaming
WC. ➩ 14.03k
DISCLAIMER ➩ i don’t feel like i got to explore these characters enough so fyi im opened to one shot request or small drabbles for these two! feel free to send an ask if ur interested in a scene
Despite the common perception of you, you were not a complete and total monster.
Sure, the rumors were true in some aspects but in most cases things were warped and twisted as they danced from mouth to mouth and you were left with a bit of a startling reputation.
You leave too many freshman boys crying and suddenly you are the devil disguised in a perfectly polished and manicured body, girlish scents and cheeky smiles being used to lure your victims in to their death.
Frankly you thought this was all way too dramatized. You liked to play around, who didn’t, and it wasn’t your fault you had a very particular taste when it came to your boys. Death was dramatic, if anything their social meters skyrocketed after being seen with you.
“It’s immoral.” Your best friend was currently giving you his opposing opinion. Sunoo was laid across your bed and watching you carefully reapply your lipgloss in the large mirror on your desk. “Maybe even a little bit sick.”
You laughed at him, turning to face him fully and strike a pose. He gave a thumbs up at your outfit and smiled at you despite his scoldings.
Sunoo had been your friend for as long as you’d known what the word meant. He was a year younger than you but decades more mature and when you both started to change drastically, you still remained friends.
Most of the version of yourself you showed outside of this room was a carefully poised character, a show of beauty and confidence to ensure you weren’t belittled and were taken seriously in all aspects of life. Yet here, alone with Sunoo as you got ready for another Saturday night party, you were your rawest self.
“I can’t help what I like.” You continued on your conversation now that he’s approved your attire.
And you meant this from the bottom of your soul. You’ve tried to fall for other guys, tried to stare length at the football players and hope it stirred something awake in you and you could fulfill another cliche when it came to high school norms.
Yet it was earlier on in your years of puberty when you discovered your type, and oh god was it a discovery.
Park Sunghoon had stumbled off the summer camp bus behind a few girls you’d recognized from previous years. He was clutching his backpack strap with one hand and pushing his glasses up his nose with the other. To make matters worse (or better, depending on who you’re asking) he had tripped coming down the steps and nearly face planted in the dirt below him.
For the first time in your life, you were completely and utterly inlove. Or at least as inlove a sniffly 14 year old can be.
You’d had your first kiss that summer, hidden behind a bush on the final nights huge campfire and you blushed thinking about how Sunghoon’s hands were shaking and his eyes were wide when you pulled away.
That was the exact thing you’d gotten obsessed with. You never saw Sunghoon again, not at summer camp or anywhere around the city, but you constantly searched for him in other boys. You liked the awkwardness and shy glances and you liked the way you could almost see the corrupted thoughts in their mind after a few weeks with you.
Other people your age gushed over the charmers, the boys at parties who leaned against the wall and asked you to slip away into an uncleaned room. Sunoo sharing the same ideology considering the way he constantly fawned over somebody on the soccer team.
Which is why you didn’t get angry at him for his scolding, for his lack of understanding. It was an art form and not everybody could appreciate it.
“Y/N, kid. I told you I’m not waiting all night for you.” Deafening pounds on your door strictly reminded you of that fact.
You swung open your door with a scowl, ignoring the way Sunoo mumbled about his hatred for the nickname kid, and came face to face with your brother.
Jake was exactly two minutes older than you and spent your entire lives magnifying this fact at any given moment. His eyes scanned your outfits before looking behind you to Sunoo’s and he sighed softly.
“So we are going complete ‘embarrass my big brother’ tonight I guess.” His words caused you to roll your eyes and push on his shoulder so you could move past him out into the hallway.
Jake and you got along great despite your differences, something about the twin connection helping you be a lot closer than you might have been else wise considering everything else about you was completely flipped.
He was the star of your family in all things that truly seemed to matter to your parents, handsome and sociable and not to mention the captain of the football team.
“You’re not my big brother.” You mumbled as you passed him and he smiled at you and messed up your hair. You paused and waited for Sunoo at the top of the stairs, raising an eyebrow at the fact Jake was watching you with a strange expression.
“My friends are downstairs.” He started to explain and you furrowed your brows in confusion. When you’d first become cool enough to hang out with Jake’s friends, he had warned them and you about the consequences of dating each other, but he gradually realized they were absolutely not your type.
You imagined he still had to deal with comments, you were well known at school and undeniably conventionally attractive, plus Park Jay had definitely made numerous passes at you throughout the years.
“I’d rather jump down these stairs than fuck one of your friends Jake.” His mouth curled in disgust at your blunt words and you saw Sunoo laugh as he approached the two of you, closing your bedroom door.
“There’s a new kid on the team and I know how you are.” He was whispering but his tone was stern and you shook your head at him in annoyance.
“I’m not interested in jocks brother, I feel like we’ve been over this. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“The Sim’s! Looking fantastic as usual.” Jay’s voice floating up the stairs caused the three of you to turn in it’s direction and you immediately froze as you took in the other boys standing in your living room. You heard Jake sigh at your reaction and start to make his way down the stairs.
Standing amidst the usual crowd, Jay (your brothers absolute bestfriend of all time), Jungwon and Riki (two younger boys on the football team), was a boy you’d never seen before.
“Oh wow. This isn’t good.” Sunoo was whispering over your shoulder with a half smile as he followed your line of vision, patting you on the back and starting his way down the stairs after your brother.
The boy was a complete stand out amidst the others and their casual stances. They were dressed dark and sleek, eyes lazy and relaxed like there was nothing that could surprise them about how tonight would play out and by experience, you knew this to be true.
He was standing stiff as a board and ringing his hands uncomfortably, looking around your living room anxiously as he tried to take in the unfamiliar setting. You briefly mentally scolded the boys for letting him wear a sweater to a highschool party and then immediately thanked them for the same fact.
You were down the stairs and stood infront of him before he even processed you approaching and his eyes widened with surprise as he took a startled step back. Your hand was dangling in the middle of the both of you and he awkwardly took it in his.
“I’m Y/N Sim.” You practically purred at him and you vaguely heard Jay bark a laugh from a few feet behind you. The boys eyes darted over to your brother and his friends and then back at you with a curious expression.
“Heeseung.” His voice was quiet and unsure and you raised an eyebrow, keeping his hand in yours for longer than necessary. “Lee Heeseung.”
You repeated his name back to him with a smile, letting it roll off your tongue as you pushed some of your hair behind your ear. Normally by now you’d start to see the signs of infatuation, eyes darting down to your chest and breath catching when you leaned into their personal space.
Heeseung wasn’t doing either, in fact he just seemed more and more awkward and impatient as the seconds droned on. Your mouth twitched down in a shocked frown and you released your grip on his hand, watching as Jake wrapped an arm around his shoulder and ushered him away from you.
Your brother shot you a teasing smile over his shoulder, like he was mocking you for failing to catch his friends attention.
“Don’t look so gloomy sweetheart.” Jay’s voice was in your ear as you started walking to the car. “You’re going to eat him alive.”
——
You couldn’t take your eyes off of the boy.
He definitely had noticed your staring, awkwardly hovering in the corner of the party holding a completely full cup he’d been taking fake sips out of. Your brother had stuck with him for most of it before being dragged away by some other boys on the team for a game of cup pong.
You remembered the fact that Heeseung was supposedly on the football team too and you were suddenly curious what exactly he did. Maybe your brother had only mentioned it in an attempt to deter your advances.
He’d be disappointed to know it didn’t work, considering you were pushing off your seat at the kitchen counter and making your way to his side of the room.
When you were a few feet infront of him he seemed to realize you weren’t changing your course of movement and were in fact coming straight for him. He stiffened up against the wall and avoided looking at you.
“Hi Hee.” You ignored his behavior, leaning against the wall on your side so you could still look at him. You liked the slope of his nose and the way he nervously glanced at you from the corner of his eye.
“Hey Y/N.” He tried to sound casual but his voice cracked halfway through saying your name and your smile brightened, leaning forward slightly so your mouth was hovering closer to his ear.
“Not having fun?” You leaned back after you spoke, noting the way he held his breath when you got closer and shifted in his stance once you leaned back against the wall.
He shrugged softly and you watched the way his thin shoulders fell back down. He definitely wasn’t small, towering over you and about double your width but he was lean and pretty, not to mention the way he curled in on himself made him seem tiny.
“I know something fun we can do.” You were leaning back towards him, this time letting your hand fall forward to hold his arm. The innuendo didn’t miss him and his wide eyes shot down to where you were touching him and then back to look at you.
“Jake said to not talk to you.” He was suddenly stuttering out but he didn’t make any move to leave or remove your hand from him. “He said if you said you liked me it wasn’t true.”
Your jaw ticked in anger as he spoke, wanting to go find Jake and teach him a lesson about interfering. But Heeseung was peering down at you with those big glossy eyes and he didn’t seem upset, just curious.
“That’s not very nice of him to say, is it?” You were practically cooing at the boy, lips forming a pout like it was the most hurtful thing you’d ever heard.
It worked considering the fact Heeseung immediately shook his head, eyes even more wide like he was worried he had somehow offended you.
Your hand that wasn’t on his arm slowly slid up to his neck, stopping to hold his face and turn him more so he was facing you and you weren’t staring at the side of him. He really was handsome, strong manly features sat nicely below his large eyes.
“Do you think I’m mean Hee?” You decided to use Jake’s words against him, batting your eyelashes with a pout and leaning against him. You felt a flash of satisfaction at the way his eyes went down to your jutted out lip and back up.
He didn’t reply after you said that and you briefly wondered if you pushed him too far for one night. You didn’t mind stretching it out, one time spending weeks with a boring tutor before he even seemed to realize you had boobs, but something about the way he peered down at you made you impatient.
He didn’t respond but he also, once again, made no move to push you off of him. If anything he seemed short of breath the longer you stood there pressed against him with your thumb on his chin.
You let out a small hum of satisfaction and pressed your thumb upwards against his bottom lip, holding it there for a second to see if he would object. He didn’t despite the way his eyes seemed to grow wider and wider every passing second.
His mouth parted and at first you thought he was going to speak, pausing and raising an eyebrow to make sure he wasn’t about to tell you to stop touching him. He looked suddenly mortified and closed his mouth with a snap, causing you to realize he was referring to your thumb pressing against his lip.
“Oh.” He genuinely shocked you, your confidence faltering for a second at the fact he was basically inviting your thumb into his mouth a second ago when you’d barely spoken to each other.
He was bright red and you had a feeling that if your grip on his chin wasn’t so tight, he would’ve disappeared into the crowd to avoid you.
“Sorry.” He was mumbling, voice so quiet you almost missed it beneath the loud music and stacked piles of random conversations.
“Do you want to go somewhere we can hear each other better?” You tried to keep the implication out of your words but you had a feeling you were oozing with sin and intent as you leaned up to speak against his ear.
Still, he was nodding almost like he was on autopilot and seemingly ready to go with you regardless of where you would take him. And that was music to your ears, excitement and tension causing you to smile before tugging him and turning around to leave the party.
You were immediately stopped in your path, your smile dropping into a scowl as you looked at your brother. He was stood infront of you with his arms crossed, Jay and Sunoo’s amused faces peeking over his shoulder at the thought of conflict.
“Excuse us.” You spat at him, tugging Heeseung again. He’d complete froze at the sight of your brother and only seemed to snap out of it at your pull, yanking his hand from yours as he collided with your back.
You stumbled forward and glared behind you at him, confused why he had let go of your hand. He was bright red again and avoiding looking at you, taking a step to the side so he was more on your brothers half of the stand off.
Jake had a satisfied smirk on his face at his obedience and you scoffed at them both, disgusted and angry eyes directed towards Heeseung who was cowering away from your glare.
“Alright.” Sunoo was dragging the word out, pushing past your brothers rigid frame and wrapping his arms around you. “Think it’s time we go.”
You let him steer you away from the boys, sending one last glare at your brothers victorious face. You felt a little fire light up in your stomach with the knowledge he was going to regret it.
——
“What about that junior in your art class. He’s easy on the eyes.” Sunoo was trying to keep your attention while in the lunch room, despite the knowledge most of his words were falling on deaf ears. “And not your brothers friend.”
That caught your attention slightly and you stopped your staring for a second, glancing at your friend before looking back across the hall where Heeseung was sat with the rest of the football idiots.
“If you’re going to tell me it’s immoral again, save your breath.” You half muttered and you heard him sigh softly from beside you.
He started to talk again but this time you truly didn’t hear him because Heeseung was looking around the room for a second before locking eyes with you. You sat up in your seat as you watched him freeze and look around to see if there was anyone else you could possibly be staring at.
When he seemed to determine he was the source of your attention, he awkwardly looked back at you and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. You cocked your head but didn’t do anything else, still slightly hurt from the night before.
“Earth to my supposed best friend.” Sunoo’s annoyed voice and shove against your shoulder caused you to break the staring contest with the boy, looking at him apologetically. “It’s fine, we can talk later. But your boy toys leaving.”
His eyes were falling over your shoulder with a quirked eyebrow, following Heeseung’s frame as he quickly shuffled out of the cafeteria and through the hallway doors. You looked frantically at Sunoo for permission and he waved you off with a dismissive hand.
You were on your feet and rushing towards the direction Heeseung had went before you could thank him, causing a few heads to turn towards you as you whipped past them.
Once you pushed through the large doors, you slowed your pace and flattened your skirt, attempting to look casual. You pulled your hair prettily in-front of your shoulders and peered around the hallway corners, trying to catch sight of which way Heeseung had gone.
It didn’t take very long before you were faltering in your tracks, seeing him standing against a closed locker and seemingly catching his breath.
“Hee?” You were standing a few feet away from him, leaning forward and cocking your head in a fake display of coincidence. “What are you doing out here?”
He glanced up at you with an unreadable expression. At first you thought he looked annoyed to see you but you realized quickly he was more so embarrassed at you catching him in a state of panic.
He raised his shoulders in a shrug again and you took a step closer, taking in his outfit now that he wasn’t hidden behind a lunch table. He was wearing another sweater, this one had a large V neck that he covered up with a plaid button up underneath it. You wondered briefly if he was hot at all underneath the layers.
“You shrug a lot don’t you.” As you spoke you casually approached him, leaning on the wall next the locker he was stood against.
He looked like he wanted to laugh at your words, mouth quirking for a bit before looking at you in a similar position to the previous night and frowning, eyes flashing with guilt and embarrassment again.
“I’m sorry.” He shook his head as he whispered and you quirked an eyebrow at his sudden mood change.
“For what part?” Beneath the urge to tease him and make him say it directly, you were genuinely curious what about last night he was apologizing for. For leaving you when your brother arrived or was he sorry for your little interaction a few seconds before that.
He looked at you with a sigh and an awkward shuffle in place, giving you your answer. He was too shy to voice it out loud and that led you to believe it was the latter he was attempting to apologize for.
“You’re sorry for that?” You frowned at him as you leaned closer again. He was watching you intensely, still standing awkwardly but seemingly expecting your actions more this time. “For wanting my fingers in your mouth?”
He was sucking in a breath at your blunt words, eyes going wide as he pressed himself against the locker like he wanted it to swallow him whole. You didn’t say anything else, you’d tipped far more than a toe in the waters and you may be a man eater but the last thing you wanted to do was make him uncomfortable.
“Don’t say that.” He was rushing out in a hissed whisper and looking around the empty hallway like somebody could be listening.
“Is that not what you wanted?” Your voice was dropping to a purr again and you could see him swallow the lump in his throat as your hand came to rest against his chest.
You wanted to touch him, desperately strangely enough, but more importantly you wanted to feel how fast his heart was racing and it didn’t disappoint. It was beating so fast you almost found it in yourself to be concerned.
A large part of you wanted to push him further, to make him tell you what he wanted so you could get to the fun part already, but a new part of you was liking toying around with him.
You found yourself curious what he was thinking as he blinked down at you, if he was thinking dirty things about you or if he wasn’t quite sure what that even consisted of. Was he just sweet and awkward or was he truly inexperienced.
Even weirder, you were wondering what you looked like to him. Both in the bodily sense, if he found you pretty or alluring, and in the sense in which he considered you to be a flirt or a whore.
You didn’t mind being a whore, you thought it was a beautiful powerful thing for a woman to be, but for some strange reason you didn’t want Heeseung to think that’s what this was.
Jay was right, you absolutely wanted to eat him alive but maybe you didn’t have to spit this one out after.
“I don’t know why I did that.” His whisper almost passed by you while you were stuck in your thoughts. You could feel his chest rise as he spoke and you liked the feeling, pressing your front against his similarly to how you did at the party.
“I didn’t say it was a bad thing.” You assured him, studying his features as he looked down at you. Your hand was leaving his chest to cup his cheek then and he took in a deep stuttering breath.
You let your thumb caress the skin on his cheek and he kept his eyes locked on yours despite the way they nervously twitched and sometimes shot over your shoulder like he was expecting an interruption.
“It’s weird.” He whispered and his breath fanned your face due to your proximity.
You frowned slightly at his words, although you had a feeling he didn’t truly mean them and he was just doing damage control incase you’d make fun of him. Still, you thought for a second before blindly reaching down between your bodies and gripping his wrist.
He made a strange startled noise at the direction of your hand, flushing when he realized you were only searching for his hand and not anything else. He didn’t object as you brought his limp hand up, only tensing slightly as you placed it on your cheek.
You didn’t say anything, waiting for a few seconds to see if he would take the hint on his own before sighing and moving his thumb with your hand that was covering his and placing it against your bottom lip.
He looked almost entranced at the movement, mouth parting in surprise as he felt your lip against his thumb. Then it was your turn to be surprised when he mirrored your movement from the other night and pressed down on it, almost instinctively.
Having startled himself, he started to pull his hand away but luckily you were still holding it in place against your cheek. Before he could make another move to remove it, you were parting your lips and pulling his thumb into your mouth.
He made another loud noise, a half shout nearly at the wet sensation on his digit and you would have laughed if you weren’t certain it would embarrass him to a point of no return.
You watched his reactions through your eyelashes as your hand moved to his wrist, feeling the bone and muscle twitch as you kept his hand in place. He didn’t say anything, watching you as you closed your lips around his thumb and held it there.
He met your eyes for just a second, immediately shooting back down to look where his thumb disappeared when he felt your tongue wrap around it in slow soothing circles.
The hall was silent outside of his heavy breaths and a low sucking sound as you pulled his wrist back and forth slowly so his thumb continued its movements in and out of your mouth. He was standing so stiff that you considered, for a moment, pulling back and asking him if this was okay.
Then he took a deep inhale and pressed his thumb flat against your tongue, causing your breath to catch in your throat with a slight choke. You faintly thought you heard him groan at the noise and you squeezed your hand that was around his wrist.
This seemed to snap him back to reality, eyes bulging as his movements froze completely. You kept your eyes on him even after he pulled his thumb from your mouth, avoiding eye contact with you as soft pants slipped from your lips.
“Do you still think it’s weird?”
——
A day or two passed without you seeing Heeseung, or more accurately without any firm interaction considering he darted away every time you rounded a corner.
This time you weren’t hurt by his avoidance, the hard part was finished and the seed of sin was blossoming in his pretty head. Now all you needed to do was wait for him to come crawling to your door, asking for more, and you’d finally have him.
You didn’t expect it so literally however. The soft knocks on your door after you’d just gotten home from school made you groan, expecting some form of real life spam mail or an annoyed neighbor, all the usuals. Instead your angry expression dropped off your face when you realized it was Heeseung behind the door.
He faltered at the sight of you, almost like he’d forgotten you lived here too. His expression was pained and you almost laughed at the way his eyes instinctively dropped to your mouth.
“Well hi.” You smiled at him and pushed your hip out to lean in the doorway, suddenly aware of the fact you were wearing little duck shorts from middle school. You don’t think he noticed, avoiding looking at your bare legs with all his might.
“Is Jake here?” He was mumbling, looking over your shoulder like he was hoping your brother would come and save him.
“I’m beginning to think I should be offended.” You were only half joking, a genuine disappointment building in your stomach. You’d never had a boy care so little about you, especially after you’d already made a move on him. “He’s at practice still, shouldn’t you know that?”
He didn’t say anything, staring at you for a while before blinking away and shuffling in place. You sighed and took a step to the side, signaling for him to come inside so he didn’t leave a dent in your porch.
He slowly and awkwardly came inside, pressing against the door to avoid touching any part of your body considering you were still perched against the doorway.
“It’s nice to see you.” You found yourself actually meaning this as you said it and nearly laughed at the way he whipped around to look at you in surprise. You’re not sure if he wasn’t expecting you to talk to him in general or just not expecting you to be in a good mood.
“What?” He spoke before he even realized he was and looked down at his shoes.
“I don’t know.” You shrugged and walked closer to him, noting the way he tensed and followed your frame. You moved past him to sit on the couch, patting the spot next to you and smiling. “I missed you.”
He slowly sat next to you, hesitating at the close proximity. Once he was sat, stiff and nervous, you scooted closer so your thighs were pressed together. If he didn’t notice your shorts before, he definitely did now judging by the way his eyes bulged and his hands twitched.
“You don’t know me.” He was shaking his head and you smiled slightly at the fact he was atleast comfortable enough to argue something you’d said.
“I think you’re cute.” You shrugged like it was obvious, watching the side of his face as he avoided looking in your direction. You were sat so close that if he looked at you, you’d probably be touching noses. “And I like your eyes.”
He glanced at you for a second, slight amusement on his face at your surface level answer. If he hadn’t figured out what you wanted by now, he slowly was. You watched as his hand twitched again.
“You want to touch me.” It was more of a statement than a question, shifting in your spot slightly. He didn’t say anything for a while eyes on your leg and you waited patiently, holding your breath so you didn’t scare him off.
“I don’t know.” His voice was breathy and pained like he was dealing with an inner dilemma. For a second he looked so guilty that you wondered if he was possibly religious, lips quirking up at the thought.
“You can.” He made no move despite your urging, glancing at you from the corner of his eye before shaking his head. “Do you want me to help you?”
He didn’t respond again but the sharp breath he took helped you understand his answer, his mannerisms becoming easier and easier for you to read. He didn’t flinch when you grabbed his wrist again, letting you carry his hand over to your leg and encage it with your own once it was touching your warm skin.
“Okay?” You were whispering, leaning your top half against him so you could rest your head on his shoulder. You liked to feel the sharp inhales he was taking as his body rose and fell.
He nodded swiftly and you decided now that he was definitely a virgin, the way his hand flexed and shuddered at the feeling of just your skin, being the most obvious sign. Excitement was bubbling under your skin again and you could hear Sunoo’s voice calling you immoral.
“Do you think I’m pretty?” You were turning your head on his shoulder to whisper against his neck and he made a startled noise at the feeling, hand tightening on your leg. You weren’t quite sure what prompted you to ask him that but you were suddenly desperate to hear his response.
He was nodding quickly for a second before actually responding, almost like he knew you wanted to hear him say it. “Yes. So pretty.”
You smiled and kissed the base of his neck in thanks, drinking in the small whimper like noise he made in response.
A minute or two passed in silence, you tightly pressed against him and listening to his sharp nervous breathing while he slowly relaxed his hand on your thigh, at some points being brave enough to gently caress your smooth skin with his thumb. You liked letting him explore, seeing how long it took for him to do the smallest things, but you were growing slightly impatient.
His hands were big, almost encasing the surface area of your leg and your hand looked extra small on top of his, slowly directing it upwards closer to the hem of your shorts. He met your gaze with a panicked look and you stopped in place for a few seconds, waiting for any sign of permission.
“Why are you doing this?” He was whispering as he turned to look you in your eyes, forehead nearly touching yours. He looked confused and pained and you almost felt a strange guilt as you looked at him.
“If you don’t want me to, I’ll stop.” You’d lost the purr in your voice, deadly serious as you spoke the most important words you could say to him. You were pushy and had a certain set of interests others might find disturbed, but you were absolutely not somebody who made others uncomfortable in a negative way.
“Are you just screwing with me?” He didn’t sound upset, just genuinely insecure and curious like he couldn’t understand why you would want him to be touching you.
You were pleased that despite being shy and not talking a lot, he wasn’t afraid to ask you things he found important. It reassured you that he would alert you if you pushed him too far, but you also were thrown off by his lack of self credit. Heeseung was definitely a dork and not the best in social situations, but he was stunning and sweet, not to mention large in size.
That small reminder caused you to glance down at his hand that was still on your leg, thumb just on the edge of hooking underneath your shorts. You pressed your legs together and looked back at him, noting the dark flash that passed in his eyes at the movement.
“I want you.” You spoke bluntly, not sure how else to reassure him the way he was searching for. You weren’t going to lie to him, you couldn’t sit here and tell this boy you wanted to date him and treat him good but you could definitely be honest with him and tell him why he was sat on your couch right now.
He looked at you in silence for a second like he was waiting for you to laugh or say something else, prove him right about his suspicions. When you kept your face firm and serious he sucked in a breath and nodded slowly, accepting that this was just something that was happening to him now.
You wondered for a second what type of place he’d lived before where girls didn’t find him attractive, suddenly very glad he was your brothers friend and you saw him before anybody else had the chance to corrupt his mind.
His hand was moving on it’s own now, a small burst of confidence at your blatant desire for him. He seemed unsure of his movements as his hand pushed up under the entrance to your small shorts, stopping and resting against your underwear clad hip, trapped between the two fabrics.
“Has anyone ever kissed you?” You were asking and he seemed confused that you chose to ask that instead of acknowledging him for touching you on his own. You smiled at that and noted for later use that he was searching for approval and praise.
He thought for a second and you wondered if he was considering whether or not to lie. Maybe he hadn’t caught on to your strict type yet and just figured you liked nerdy guys.
“Don’t lie to me. I don’t mind either way.” Your voice was suddenly firm at the command and then immediately softening in reassurance. It was truthfully too despite the fact you were most hopeful to him saying no.
He was shaking his head and you didn’t miss the way his eyes were stuck on your lips, hand flexing with impatience under your shorts.
“If I kiss you, you can’t ignore me anymore.” You whispered and he was nodding as you spoke. You were worried he was so eager for you to do something he wasn’t quite thinking before agreeing to things. And you meant what you said, if you kissed him it would be important to you.
“You can’t tell Jake.” He was suddenly saying and you almost laughed at the irony of him warning you not to tell your own brother, if anything it should be the other way around. You thought the fact he was seeking approval from the other boys was cute, despite it causing problems in your own desires.
He didn’t seem to appreciate the fact that you chuckled at him, frowning softly and trying to make his expression more serious. You liked the dazed out look on his face, almost like he was too drunk on touching you to think clearly. You couldn’t help yourself from surging forward and pressing your lips tightly against his.
He froze up, hand squeezing your leg now so tight it was almost painful. You didn’t expect him to know how to kiss you back but he still tried after he regained his composure, pushing his face forward into yours.
You pulled back quickly, pecking his lips three more times in small kisses in the process. Not wanting to overwhelm him, you leaned back slightly to study his expression. When his eyes fluttered back open he was looking at you with shock and excitement, not even noticing the way his hand was kneading your hip inside of your shorts.
You took a breath to prepare to ask him if that was okay when you were cut off by him leaning back into you and kissing you again.
Smiling against his lips, you brought your hands up to cup his face and try to guide him a little bit more so he wasn’t just pressing his lips against yours in a haste. Still you let him explore on his own for a bit, tilting your head back so he could push into you.
After 30 seconds of letting him get used to the feeling, you started to move your mouth against his in a smooth rhythm. He hummed, low and guttural, at the sensation of actually kissing you and in his eagerness to move forward and lean into you, his hand slipped and pressed itself directly over your core.
You both gasped into the kiss, for different reasons considering the fact he immediately lept away from you onto the other side of the couch and covered his mouth in panic and apology.
You were just opening your mouth to tell him it was alright, more than okay in your opinion, when the front door was swinging open. You immediately closed your lips in anger and frustration at the sight of your brother who was observing the situation with squinted eyes.
It definitely looked damning, your shorts were ridden up on your thigh and Heeseung was sat a few feet away panting and running a hand through his hair to try to flatten it down.
Jake gave you a knowing look, a sharp glare and your lips curled into a smirk as you shrugged at him.
——
It was a day or two later and you were stood in the center of your room, staring at yourself in the mirror and trying to decide which color bathing suit you wanted to wear.
The boys all planned to go to the beach today, one last warm weekend before the fall season started and they were jammed packed with peak football busyness. Luckily for you, despite your current silent war you were having, Jake had extended the invitation to you and Sunoo too.
“The pinks way better.” Speaking of Sunoo, he was in his usual position that he adorned anytime you were getting dressed before heading out. Laying on his stomach with his feet in the air on your bed, watching you with a keen eye and sharp opinions.
You frowned at his comment, unsure and feeling slightly insecure. Trying not to think about how strange that was for you, you nodded in confirmation and pulled shorts and a hoodie over your suit for the ride there.
By the time you got to the car you were feeling pretty awful about the days direction, knowing yourself well enough to know something as small as not feeling pretty could ruin your mood completely. You tried to keep your energy light, planning to relax once you got there and not risk ruining anybody’s else day in collateral damage.
When the van door slid open, your eyes widened upon seeing Heeseung sat in your usual seat, his expression mirroring your own.
“Hope you don’t mind Y/N.” Riki was leaning forward from the backseat and smiling brightly at you. “Thought it would be cool to kidnap the new kid.”
You didn’t say anything, eyes sliding back over to Heeseung who was looking at you with heavy awkwardness but not avoiding your eye contact. You felt lighter at the knowledge he wasn’t taking what you had said about ignoring you lightly.
Climbing into the van and towards the back seat, you and Sunoo sat beside Riki and relaxed for the rest of the ride.
You liked being in the back like this, your position giving you the perfect view of Heeseung’s side profile. He kept glancing back at you throughout the drive, looking more and more surprised that your gaze never drifted from him.
You hadn’t spoken to him since kissing him, he had immediately stood from the couch with awkward posture and shuffled off in the direction Jake was leading him, not sparing you a glance.
You’d spent that night scrolling through his socials, atleast the ones that weren’t private, and wondering if you should message him or not. That thought didn’t last long, far too out of character for you and you’d already been accidentally doing that.
Heeseung didn’t need to know you were thinking about him before you went to sleep that night and he definitely didn’t need to know that you didn’t normally kiss the boys you played with.
After you’d gotten to the beach and all the boys had dog piled their way out of the van, you tugged your shorts down uncomfortably and followed behind them at a much slower pace. You liked observing them despite your bad mood, especially the playful laughs Sunoo let out as he joked around with them.
You were so caught up in your people watching that you didn’t notice Heeseung also lagging behind until he was walking side by side with you, keeping his distance but sparing you quick glances as you walked.
It surprised you that he both wasn’t ignoring you and that he was willingly being alone with you while your brother was only a few yards in front.
A strange satisfaction ran through you and you smiled in Heeseung’s direction, brightly when his ears and cheeks flushed bright red.
After the boys had set up the blankets and chairs, they ran off towards the water and you settled into one of the plastic seats. Jay was still stood near you, applying sunscreen diligently and squinting against the bright sun.
“You should let me put some on you.” He was saying once you took off your hoodie and you scoffed without looking at him. You didn’t mind Jay despite his flirting but you had no doubt his eyes were glued to your chest as he proposed applying the sunscreen to your bare skin.
“I’m serious.” He laughed at your reaction, knowing what you were thinking. “In a friendly way, I promise.”
You looked at him now from over your sunglasses, analyzing his expression as you felt the sun heat up your exposed skin.
“Fine.” You sighed and rolled over onto your stomach so he could have easier access to your back. “But you touch me inappropriately with your grubby hands and I’ll cut them off.”
“I bet your brother would first anyways.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke, kneeling down on the sand next to you. You heard the cap of the bottle open as he squeezed a good amount into his hands and pressed them onto your skin. “Besides, I know you have your sights set on another suitor.”
You didn’t have to ask him what he was referring to, seeing no point in playing dumb. Both Jay and you knew a very large reason you’d never responded to his advances was because your specific type, and you also both knew who happened to fit that type perfectly.
“He’s cute.” You shrugged the best you could in your position and Jay pressed his thumb into your back, a light massage now as you talked.
“Sure, if you’re into that.” He chuckled softly and you smiled even though he couldn’t see it. “Not so cute with the way he’s glaring at me right now though.”
You sat up upon hearing that, resting on your elbows and looking over your shoulder towards the water where the rest of the boys had disappeared. At first you thought Jay was just teasing until you caught sight of Heeseung and confirmed the icy stare he was directing towards the two of you.
It was so out of his usual character that you felt genuine shock wrack through you, rolling over and sitting up properly.
After a few seconds of holding eye contact with each other he was wading out of the water and heading in your direction, Jay laughed and stood up swiftly with a mumble about ‘knowing when to leave’. He passed Heeseung on his way to the water and gave him a pat on the chest that you didn’t quite understand.
When he reached where you were sitting, you felt slightly hypnotized by the way he looked. He was standing over you and blocking out the sun, hair wet and dripping onto his tight swim shirt. He almost looked angry and your eyes dropped down to his extended hand that was pointing in your direction.
“Do you want to get ice cream with me?” Despite his tense exterior, his voice still sounded the exact same, a nervous quiver making his words quiet and stuttered.
He looked relieved when you nodded and took his hand, letting him pull you up onto your feet and help steady you.
The ice cream shop was connected to the beach but a bit away in the distance, leaving you out of view from the rest of your group and a bit more private. He hadn’t spoken the entire walk there and you were beginning to worry with how tense his shoulders were, stopping him before he turned the corner and softly guiding him so his back hit the side of the building.
He looked down at you as you crowded his space, pushing against him despite how cold the wetness of his shirt felt against your bare chest.
“What’s wrong?” You looked up at him through your eyelashes and he blinked down at you, jaw twitching with how tense it was
“Why didn’t you ask me?” He responded and you felt confused for a second before understanding he was referring to Jay applying your sunscreen.
The realization that he was jealous caused a surge of excitement to pass through you and you rocked forward on your toes, pressing against him harder if that was even possible.
“You walked away and he offered.” Your lips formed a pout despite your giddiness and his eyes went from your lips down to your chest that was smushed against his front.
You felt the sudden desperation to touch him or to have him touch you, maybe even to kiss him again. You just wanted to be as close to him as humanly possible, you wanted him to call you pretty again and you weren’t quite sure what to feel about this overwhelming urge.
“Don’t be mad at me Hee.” You continued after he didn’t say anything, his eyebrows pulled forward in a confused and jealous expression. You didn’t think he was actually mad at you but you didn’t like how his face didn’t have its usual softness.
“I’m not mad, I don’t know.” He confirmed your thoughts and shook his head, eyes softening just a little when he looked down at you again.
“Are you jealous?” You pressed on the subject, having a feeling he wouldn’t admit it on his own.
“I didn’t mind it I guess… seeing him touch you.” He admitted softly and you suddenly were plagued with the thought that he might be a lot less innocent than you thought. If anything he seemed a bit curious at the thought of somebody else touching you. “I just…”
“Wanted it to be you?” You filled in the blank for him as he trailed off and he nodded after a second.
You wanted to laugh at this but you didn’t, not wanting him to get embarrassed. Yet it was almost comical that he had absolutely no idea how much more of a chance he had with you than Jay, than any of the other boys who were constantly competing for your attention.
Instead of explaining this to him, you stood up on your toes again and pulled him down for a kiss.
Your hands were in his wet hair and a sudden shudder ran through you at the way he had to bend down to reach your mouth.
He was taken off guard for a second before kissing you back, this time immediately moving his mouth against yours in a nice slow rhythm like you had shown him next time. He was a fast learner and you felt giddy at that fact.
The kiss was sweet and slow, giving him the silent reassurance he seemed to be asking for but you felt growing impatience at the pace when you realized you were completely pressed against his lean body in a state of undress, tugging on his wet hair slightly in an attempt to catch his attention.
It seemed to work because you felt his shaky hands come up and rest on your lower back, pulling you tighter against him as he breathed an unsteady gasp against your lips. You liked the way he continuously tugged you forward despite there being no way you could get any closer to him.
His hands were fast and desperate as your mouths moved with eachother, the addicting feeling of kissing you clouding his mind and helping him forget all the anxiety and uneasiness he was originally feeling in your presence.
His knees were weakening and he slid down the wall slightly, legs jutting out at the weird angle so his leg was pressed slightly between your own, he immediately stopped pulling on your figure and kissing you, glancing down at what he’d just done.
He seemed unsure about the fact his knee was now practically hovering between your legs as you kept him trapped against the brick wall.
“Heeseung.” Your breathy use of his full name caught his attention and he snapped his head up to look at you. You didn’t say anything else, just nodding your head and kissing him again.
He accepted this as a form of permission, another surge of excitement and confidence pushing him to pull you closer again. This time, because of the new position, you were practically rocking against his bent leg as you breathed into his mouth.
You tried not to think about the fact you were practically dry humping him out in public, licking into his mouth to test his reaction to you pushing the kissing even further.
He half groaned, half whimpered at the feeling and squeezed his hands that were around your waist causing you to laugh at the ticklish sensation. Your laugh was interrupted by him pushing his tongue into your mouth suddenly, trying and failing to mirror what you had just done to him. You tugged on his hair again as a sign to take it slower, giving him a soft peck before demonstrating again.
You did that a few times, licking into his mouth and kissing him open mouthed and sloppy before pulling away to catch your breath and observe his reaction.
His normally wide eyes were downturned and hazy, dark with want and excitement as he experienced this emotion he’d never felt before. He felt addicted to you and the way you were melting against him, perched on his bent knee and taking pretty little gasps for air as you tried to calm yourself down.
“Fuck.” You were breathing out in a sigh and he couldn’t help but smile slightly at your state, feeling proud he had been the one to cause it. His cheeks were still bright red and you felt the urge to kiss him again. “You sure you haven’t done that before?”
This seemed to embarrass him further and he shifted against the wall, his shirt sticking to the rough material of the brick. He was practically dry by now and your hand left his hair to drag it’s way down his chest and stomach.
You could feel the muscle tensing and flexing under your touch despite the shirt creating a barrier between your skin to his and you felt mesmerized by the smooth slope of his stomach. He seemed to be taking in your outfit now too, possibly for the first time realizing how little clothes you were wearing.
“I didn’t know what to wear.” You were breathing out, overly aware of how self conscious you’d been earlier in the day regarding your bikini. It was pink and frilly, the bottoms fabric poking out from the top of your jean shorts.
“It’s perfect.” He was whispering, eyes locked on your chest and stomach. Then he was flushing again and looking back at you, embarrassment furthering at the way you quirked your eyebrow at him. “It’s pretty I mean.”
You didn’t respond, an unfamiliar blush on your cheeks at the sincerity in his compliment. You felt slightly angry at yourself for the way his validation changed your mood in seconds.
“Are you still upset.” You eventually asked and he shifted against the wall again, hands on your back pulling you tight like he didn’t even realize he was doing it.
“Wasn’t upset.” He mumbled and shrugged, holding your eye contact for once. “He just talks about you sometimes.
This peaked your interest slightly and you cocked your head at him. You knew Jay thought you were hot and liked to mess with you to piss your brother off but you hadn’t considered the fact he might actually be voicing desires for you when you weren’t around to hear.
“What’s he say?” You questioned and Heeseung suddenly looked like he did when you first met, awkward and squeamish.
“Just..” He was mumbling and squirming against you with a frown. “Stuff he wants to do to you I guess.”
You didn’t say anything, just humming in understanding and studying his features and expression. He looked slightly pale and like he was rethinking the things his friend had said in private, jaw tensing again like it had by the water.
“Stuff like.. kissing me?” You flattened your hand on his chest as your voice turned into a low drawl. “Sticking his tongue in my mouth and letting me feel good on his thigh?”
His mouth was parting in a small breath as you kept talking, slowly understanding you were describing things you’d done with him to make a strong point.
“Let him talk.” You shrugged and kissed his jaw, taking a small step away from him afterwards. “I’ve made my choice.”
——
After ushering a flustered Heeseung back to the water, ignoring the glare from Jake at your lack of ice cream, you found yourself actually managing to have fun.
You joined in on playing with them in the water, playing chicken against Sunoo, him on Riki’s shoulders and you ontop of Heeseung’s.
His strength surprised you, winning all three rounds before you were tapping out and practically coughing out water with messy hair and a bright smile. The sun was setting by the time you all left and you liked the way he looked on the drive home far more than the trip there, eyes tired and skin tanned.
The night you were rolling around in bed again, trying not to disturb a sleeping Sunoo next to you while you locked and unlocked your phone in frustrated contemplation.
Eventually you gave in to your desire, pressing follow on Heeseung’s private instagram and immediately shutting your phone off and pressing it tight to your chest when it alerted you a request had been sent to him.
You felt incredibly stupid for acting like this and like you weren’t in control of your emotions for the first time in a very long time. You think part of you liked that factor about the types of people you normally were with, the control was completely and utterly up to you and they’d pretty much follow you into battle if you batted your eyelashes the right way.
Heeseung had a weird way of making you feel helpless, despite making no move himself to control you or the things you did, he still had an upsetting power over you that you don’t even think he realized.
Proven correct again by the way your heart surged as your phone vibrated against your chest, lifting it up and squinting at the bright screen to see he had accepted your request and followed you back.
You wondered what he was doing up this late, nearing 3am now and opened up his profile to see if he had any post. There was only a handful and you scrolled to the bottom first, studying a pretty photo of a dog in a window without a caption.
The next three post were also pretty simple, photos of sunsets and a guitar leaning against a wall that you assumed was in his room. The four most recent were what caught you attention, actually featuring him and other people unlike the other ones which seemed more atmosphere focused.
You smiled softly at the photo of him and your brother, Jake in his football uniform with black paint smeared across his face as he appeared mid yell with an arm around Heeseung’s shoulder. You noted the camera around Heeseung’s neck and realized you had been right about Jake lying and he wasn’t actually on the football team, just working with them.
The fondness you felt looking at the photo was followed by a pang of guilt as you looked at the next one, another photo with Jake but this time with the rest of the boys as well.
Heeseung was in the middle of the mirror selfie with a bright smile on his face, one you hadn’t seen and the other boys were crowding around him in different poses. You opened the comments to see them having various discussions, but all for the most part, praising Heeseung for taking a photo of his face and posting it.
The final two made your breath catch in your throat, considering the fact you were in both of them.
You weren’t sure when he had taken the first one, a photo of you lazily strewn in the plastic chair at the beach. You were adjusting your sunglasses and mid laugh at something that, you assume Sunoo, was saying off in the distance.
It must’ve been some time after your water fights considering your hair was wet across your shoulders and you weren’t wearing the shorts you had been before. The sun was cascading prettily and you don’t remember if it was actually that beautiful out or if he had edited the photo expertly.
You’d always been aware of the fact that people found you pretty, having heard it pretty much your entire life even when you didn’t quite believe it or know how to respond. You’re sure nowadays people found it as a negative thing, thinking you were too full of yourself when you fluffed your perfectly crafted hair or conceited in the way you constantly reapplied mascara and lipgloss. But for the first time in your entire life, staring at this photo he’d taken of you, you thought you looked beautiful.
You liked it hesitantly, scrolling up to see the second and final one of you.
You’d seen him take this one, it was right after he’d taken a few of Jake and Jay as they dried off and joked around with each other and then he was turning the camera towards you.
A smile spread across your face making your cheeks hurt as you looked at it. You were staring at the camera with a shocked look on your cheery face, a peace sign held up in a blur of movement from your fast attempt at a pose before he clicked the button.
These ones didn’t have any captions either but something about him picking two photos of you from all the ones you’d seen him taking today made your heart race in a way that made you slightly queasy. He was continuing to surprise you and more noticeably, making you surprise yourself.
“Can you shut that shit off?” Sunoo’s groggy voice was immediately snapping you out of your little dream like thought process, the brightness of your screen waking him up.
“I think I like him.” You let your words hang in the darkness, not liking the way he fell completely silent at your whispered statement.
“That’s new.” He eventually breathed out and you heard him turn onto his side, trying to look at you in the darkness. You were laying flat on your back and staring up at the ceiling in contemplation. There was some left over glow in the dark stars from a middle school sleepover the two of you had.
“Yeah.” You breathed out in response. “Well.. goodnight.”
——
By the time you had finally woken up, eyes peeling open with a groan, Sunoo was already up and out of bed. You could hear him off somewhere in your house, laughing loudly at something.
You frowned and checked the time, noting the two notifications underneath the numbers alerting you it was already past noon.
Jake was one of the notification banners, sending you a message to announce the fact he was having a party tonight. Your frown deepened as you read that. Your weekends were usually filled with bouncing from different houses with each other but it was rare you held one at home.
The other notification changed your mood, seeing that Heeseung had seemingly liked every single one of your instagram post while you had been sleeping.
You smiled to yourself giddily at the thought of him scrolling through your page, without thinking you were pressing the ‘message’ tab on his page and typing.
y/n : hi
heeseung : Hey
y/n : woah that was fast
heeseung : Sorry
heeseung : Should I wait a bit
You laughed out loud at the fact he was somehow able to be more awkward over text than he already was in person, a fondness settling in your tired head.
y/n : will i see u tonight?
A few seconds passed without a response despite the little words under your message letting you know he had read it immediately, most likely sitting with your chat open similarly to how you were with his.
heeseung : I’m actually already here… downstairs to be specific
y/n : will u come up here?
You sent the message before you thought about it and you watched his activity status turn off after he read your message.
You immediately panicked and sat up swiftly, you hadn’t even considered the fact you were freshly woken up and he had never seen you in any state of slightly natural, suddenly overwhelming insecure of how you looked.
Before you had a chance to get out from under the covers or look in the mirror, soft knocks on your door were making you freeze and hold your breath.
You felt ridiculous once Heeseung poked his head inside your door, his big round eyes brightening when he saw you sat up with your blankets covering your lap. He looked excited to see you and you quickly forgot about your appearance or what he might’ve been thinking at the sight of you. He clearly was happy to see you.
“Hey.” He breathed out, sliding through a small gap in your door and softly closing it behind him. You wondered if he gave Jake an excuse for leaving or just hoped he wouldn’t notice his absence.
“Hi.” You smiled warmly at him and patted the side of your bed that was empty, where Sunoo had been sleeping a few hours before. He glanced at you in confusion for a second before hesitantly walking closer to your bed and slowly lowering himself onto it.
It creaked underneath his weight and you laughed softly at his slow movements, lifting the blankets once he was sat down and tossing them over his lap so you were both halfway underneath the covers.
“Are we taking a nap?” He was whispering in a joking tone and you briefly acknowledged the fact he was a lot more casual around you in terms of saying things on his mind.
You were a bit nervous about this change in pacing between the two of you. Maybe he had come up to your room expecting something similar to your past interactions, maybe he was even disappointed as he laid next to you in your warm bed with no sign of your usual devil horns peeking through.
“Is that okay?” Even when unsure of yourself, you liked to remain blunt and honest.
He looked at you for a few beats, eyes warm and knowing like he had somehow figured out your insecurity. Then he was nodding and laying back against the pillow, outstretching an arm onto yours so when you laid down, it’d be against him and not your fabric.
You curled against his side and silently appreciated him for not saying anything, drinking in his silence and resting your head on his chest so you could listen to his heartbeat.
Surprisingly, it was still racing just as fast as it normally was despite only laying in bed with you. He was showing no signs of nervousness or anxiety, or maybe you were still half asleep and were just failing to pick up on his usual signs.
“Are you nervous?” You whispered for some reason and he tightened his arm around you, rubbing your back slowly and uncertainly.
“I’m always nervous I think.” He was whispering back and you almost laughed at the drama of it all. “Especially around you.”
You hummed softly, your hand coming up to rest against his stomach so you could feel his inhales better. He was wearing a white tshirt and you could feel his muscles tensing at your touch.
“Because I’m pretty?” You tried not to sound desperate when you asked, not wanting him to think you were fishing for compliments. You just wanted to hear him say it for some reason.
“Yeah, you’re pretty.” He seemed to always know what you were thinking, immediately fulfilling your request despite the blush it brought to his cheeks. “And you’re nice to me.”
This caught your attention more than the first part, although that also undeniably made your face flush. You weren’t quite sure you’d be at all nice to him, sure you hadn’t made a fool out of him or completely ignored him but you were genuinely taken back by the fact he thought you were nice.
You’d heard charming, alluring and even, at times, manipulatively sweet but it was rare somebody told you they thought you were kind.
“Why wouldn’t I be nice to you?” You pushed forward in your low spoken questioning, liking the vulnerability this position gave you. You were the closest you’ve ever been but you couldn’t see each others faces, making it easier to speak freely.
You felt his body move in what, you could only assume, was a small shrug. His hand stopped moving on your back and you shifted closer to him, frowning slightly at his sudden silence.
“You’re nice too.” You decided to say eventually, feeling embarrassed at the openness.
“I’m sure everybody’s nice to you.” He was slowly sounding more tired and you wanted to sit up and shake him awake so you could keep talking. “It must be hard not to be.”
You didn’t like the way he said that, like you were somebody deserving of good treatment all the time. You suddenly felt a pang of guilt at the reminder of who you were, why he was even in your bed in the first place.
“It’s different.” You said instead, not wanting to give those nasty thoughts too much attention. “You’re actually nice. Not because you want to sleep with me or get close to my brother.”
“I think sleeping with you would solidify me never being close to your brother again.” You could hear the smile in his voice and you laughed against his chest. He seemed looser when he was tired and you wanted to ask him all the things he’d normally be too shy to say out loud.
A minute passed in the silence and you realized through the soft rise and fall of his stomach that he had fallen asleep, arm limp in it’s place on your side.
You tried not to think about any of the things bothering you despite Sunoo’s voice in your head reminding you that your normal habits were immoral. Focusing in instead on the soft beat of Heeseung’s heart, you let yourself fall back asleep against him.
——
By the time you woke up again, even more groggy and out of it than you had been the first time, you could tell it was later in the day.
The soft blue haze of the sun setting was filling up your room and you almost started to stretch like normal before remembering you hadn’t fallen asleep alone, sitting up slightly in confusion at the lack of company in your bed.
Heeseung wasn’t there anymore and the blankets were messy like he had left in a hurry. You waited for a few seconds to listen in for him, maybe in your connected bathroom a few feet away but after not hearing anything and feeling the fact the bed was cold on his side you figured he had left some time ago.
You weren’t mad at him considering the fact the party had probably begun to start by now, you sleeping most the day away after having such a long night, but you couldn’t help but feel disappointed that he hadn’t left a note or sent a text.
You immediately felt stupid for thinking like this considering he was most likely just downstairs with the other boys and it wasn’t like he went home in the middle of the night, he knew he’d see you even if he left. It wasn’t like you to act like this over a boy and it would’ve been more frustrating and worrisome if he wasn’t so kind and gentle with you.
Finally climbing out of bed, you dressed yourself in a skirt and a hoodie before fixing your hair and applying some mascara. They were most likely pregaming by now, maybe a few early stragglers stopping by to get ahold of the best drinks before they were gone. But you didn’t really feel the need to overdo your appearance like you typically did, feeling more comfortable since it was held at your house and you could always come and change if the situation called for it.
You were leaving your room and making your way to the stairs when you heard unfamiliar laughs and voices coming from the living room.
Pausing against the railing, you froze and listened in to what they were saying once you heard your name from one of their mouths.
“I mean you have to tell us dude, she has to be good considering how much she’s ran through.” One of the boys from the football team was talking and you could practically hear the smile in his voice.
You weren’t sure who he was talking to but it didn’t bother you much considering you’d heard it before, rumors from classmates and name calling from boys who were mad you had turned them down.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” This definitely bothered you. Heeseung’s sweet nervous voice was floating up the stairs and you heard the other boys started laughing again at the way his voice shook.
“C‘mon man, I totally saw you leaving her room earlier when Sim called.” Another boy was speaking now and you wondered how many were down there and why your brother wasn’t with Heeseung.
You considered marching down there and dragging Heeseung away from the teasing, but you figured that would only put him in a worse spot. You didn’t mind anybody knowing you were doing things with him but you knew he was serious about Jake not finding out.
“Why would I fuck her?” Heeseung was talking again and your heart dropped at his tone of voice, almost sounding disgusted by the idea. “Like you said, she’s ran through.”
You didn’t hear anything else after that, ears deafening once the boys started to laugh and seemingly smack his back in approval for his harsh words against you. Your throat felt hot with embarrassment and panic was filling up your chest and head.
“Y/N? What are you doing up there?” Jake’s concerned voice filtered through and you looked down through the gaps in the banister, seeing him having just walked through the door with groceries bags dangling from his arm.
Your teary eyes shuffled over towards Heeseung and the football players to see him standing completely rigid as he looked up at you, Jake calling attention to you and your hiding place.
There was no use in pretending you hadn’t heard what he said, your expression betraying you and making it extremely obvious.
You were turning around and darting back into your room, slamming the door and throwing yourself onto your bed in a sob. Burying your face into the pillow, you groaned in frustration at the fact it smelled like Heeseung and you threw it onto the floor.
You’ve heard these things before, even worse at times but for some reason hearing him say it felt like the worst thing possible.
It was the scariest thing in the world, the way you felt about him so soon, but for once you were finding yourself liking the loss of control. It felt safe and comfortable, completely opposing how it normally felt.
You weren’t sure if he actually thought those things about you or if he was just trying to douchebag his way out of an awkward conversation but it didn’t matter to you regardless, his voice looping in your head with that unfamiliar tone.
A vibration under your stomach was causing you to pick up your sniffly face, eyes squinted with tears as you shuffled around to try to find your abandoned phone you were apparently smothering.
When you finally managed to feel it against your wandering hand you saw a few different text chain alerts.
One from Sunoo, asking if you were okay and if he could come up or if you wanted some space. Another was from Jake again, double texting to ask a similar thing followed by telling you he’d cancel the party if you wanted him to.
You responded to them both quickly, telling Sunoo you were okay and you’d talk to him later and letting Jake know you didn’t care about the party you’d just stay in your room.
The third message was from Heeseung’s instagram account but you didn’t look at it, shutting off your screen and yelling into your blanket.
You thought for just a second about getting up out of your bed and putting on your best outfit, going down to join the party and acting like Heeseung hadn’t affected you as much as he did.
But that was the thing you liked most about him. You didn’t feel the need to play this character or hide behind an emotionless mask.
Instead you spent the rest of the night in that same position, listening to the music gradually get louder as more and more people filled into your house. You almost wanted to laugh at the irony of you, a complete party goer with a carefree lifestyle, hiding from an exciting night just a few feet away.
Hours were passing like that, your mind racing with thoughts of what they could be doing down there. You wondered if Heeseung wanted to follow you up here but was too shy or if he had no plans of coming at all. You curled into a ball on your side.
Eventually you let yourself fall asleep again, body feeling heavy and exhausted from crying and overthinking. You couldn’t have been asleep long before you were waking up again to soft knocks against your door, you frowned deeply and ignored them.
You figured it was some drunken idiot, maybe a couple looking for a room to hook up in and you didn’t have the energy to tell them to go away so you just laid there in silence and hope they didn’t try to turn your unlocked doorknob. That hope didn’t last long before you heard the soft rattle of the metal, the knob squeaking as it twisted and your door was pushed open just a sliver.
Nobody came through it at first, like they were waiting for a reaction from you, and then Heeseung’s head was poking through it just how it did this morning.
The scene was a direct replay but the mood was completely flipped now, his face lacking any sign of a warm smile and instead looking startled at the fact you were awake and looking at him coming into your room.
“Were you hoping I was asleep so you could just leave?” You looked away from him as you spoke, rolling back onto your stomach to try to look less pathetic and more casual.
He didn’t say anything, coming into your room considering the fact you hadn’t screamed at him to get out, and closing the door behind him.
“I wanted to talk to you.” He was stuttering and you had a feeling he was wringing his hands together but he sounded sure of himself.
You sighed and turned your head to look at him from your spot on the bed. He was awkwardly hovering next to the bed and looking at you, face crumpling with guilt when he saw your puffy eyes and red cheeks.
“Or I can just suck your dick and you can go and rate it on a scale of 1-10 for the entire school body.”
His eyebrows furrowed at your sarcasm and he slowly sat on your bed, keeping his distance and barely resting against the edge of it.
“That’s not funny.” He shook his head as he spoke, his back was towards you but he was looking over his shoulder at you.
“It seemed to be earlier.” That was slightly unfair of you considering he hadn’t been laughing with them earlier from what you could tell but his harsh words had been replaying in your mind for hours and you weren’t feeling the most gentle towards him.
“They just got in my head I don’t know.” He was still shaking his head and pressing his hands tightly against his knees. “They kept talking about what you do and I just wanted it to be different.”
“It is different.” You were cutting him off and his jaw twitched slightly. He didn’t seem to know how to explain himself properly and he was digging himself a bigger hole. “I thought what we were doing was different.”
“How?” He was turning more so he could look at you more directly, eyebrows furrowed in an angry expression you hadn’t seen before. “What’s different about this? Jake told me the same thing when I first got here, I know you’re just going to drop this once it’s over.”
“Everything is different about this.” You sat up now, perched on your knees and leaning forward on your hands for emphasis. “I’m not going to sit here and feel bad about my sex life because of your ego Heeseung.”
His face dropped and he shook his head. You knew he wasn’t like that and he wasn’t directly shaming you for being experienced, he was just insecure and didn’t know how to express it. But that wasn’t an excuse for the things he had said about you.
“If you want to hide… whatever this is than fine that’s your choice.” Your voice wavered as you said it, the thought stinging slightly of him being ashamed to be with you. “You could have lied or brushed them off but you chose to insult me and say horrible things.”
His face was softening again in guilt and you were slightly confused before you realized you were crying again. He seemed to lean forward without realizing it and you sat back up on your knees to keep distance between you.
“I’m sorry.” He looked and sounded genuine and you wanted to believe he was but you had also never thought he’d be capable of something like that, so maybe you were trusting him too blindly.
“You made it sound disgusting.” You spat the final word out, face curling in a hurt sob and then he was pulling you into a tight hug, falling forward on your knees and crashing into his chest.
You wanted to be able to push him off of you and tell him to leave your room, leave your house better yet, but you couldn’t help wrapping your arms around his neck and crying into the same soft shirt you’d been sleeping peacefully on a few hours ago.
“It’s not disgusting.” His voice was causing his chest to vibrate and you could feel his heartbeat against your cheek. “I’m such an idiot and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with being with you.”
He sounded the most confident you’d heard him, voice lacking its usual quiver and stutter other than the heavy weight of emotion behind his statement.
“You’re right, it was a total ego thing. I didn’t understand why somebody as confident and pretty as you would be interested in me.” He continued on and you wanted to interrupt and dispute his negative claims against himself but you decided to let him finish since he, for once, seemed sure in his words.
“I like spending time with you even if it hasn’t been that long.” You sniffled as he spoke and burrowed into his chest so he knew you were still listening. “Even if Jake tackles me next time he sees me.”
You laughed at that and you felt him rest his chin on top of your head. You were still upset but his words were helping and you wanted to believe him, you were just contemplating if it was worth abandoning the techniques you’d been using to avoid getting hurt like this.
“Maybe I should have asked you on a date before trying to put my fingers in your mouth.” You were whispering against his chest and he barked a laugh at your sudden blunt joke.
Neither of you said anything after that, letting each other think over the situation and sit in a tight hug, you practically in his lap now. You felt a strange tug at your heart regarding the fact there was complete innocence between you despite the compromising position.
“Is this a bad time to ask you on a date then?” He eventually was whispering above your head and you smiled softly into his shirt.
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foggyfrogss · 6 months
Text
⋆ HIEMAL ₊˚.
tf! Sukuna x f! Reader | Warnings: MDNI, Sexual Content
Chapter One - Next Chapter - Masterlist | ᴡᴏʀᴅs: 7.3ᴋ
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A/N: Considering we don't know much in regards to Sukuna's past... I hope I do my best in portraying that in my story. In the beginning he is human but I will tell the story of how he turns into what he is now.
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ʏᴇᴀʀ: 940 | ᴀɢᴇ: 24
“I thought I told you to stop being careless when training,” you huff out in a quiet tone in rhythm with the crackling fire inside the Irori. Your words earn a huff of annoyance from the man who sat in front of you.
The overall atmosphere was thick with rising silent tension as you wiped away the blood from Ryomen Sukuna’s shoulder. His tight skin flexes under your touch.
“What would your father do if he found you tending to the wounds of someone like me?”
You’re stunned by the gruffness of his voice. The sudden exposure of emotion being rare, especially from him. You sigh.
You had stopped your movements with the cloth. Moving it away from his shoulder to dip it back into the bucket of warmed water. His wound had stopped bleeding now.
“My father has no say in what I choose to do. I’m a grown woman, Ryomen.” You tell him but it earns a grunt from his lips. Why did he always have to be such a brute? At times the stoic, tough-guy act had irked you to no ends, like now. “You are a Nobleman’s daughter. To be seen with someone as me,” he begins, suddenly turning to face you, “it would be considered immoral.”
The room had grown quiet once more, only the sounds of crackling twigs filling your ears as the two of you locked eyes. His intense gaze showing through to you even in the dimness of the room. It almost made you shudder as light chills prickled down your spine and through your arms.
Your fingers clenched around the drenched cloth to expel the tainted water from it, bringing you back to your senses.
“You know I don’t see you in that way…” you whispered softly to him. The words that came from your lips do no favor in relieving the suffocating tension that had begun to swell.
As you raise the cloth to continue tending to his wound, he snatches your wrist in his hand. The substantial size of it completely engulfing it. His long fingers squeeze but not enough to cause discomfort. It’s a comforting pinch, combined with the warmth of his fiery skin; it makes your body buzz.
“Define ‘that way’,” he demands with a squeeze of your wrist. All you do is swallow nervously at the sight before you. His sharp gaze darkening even further as he awaits your reply. You take in a deep breath, cursing at yourself internally for how shaken it had sounded. Waves of fluttering anxiety burst through you and pool in the base of your gut, feeling as if a kaleidoscope of butterflies had been released within you.
Angry, hungry, and eager butterflies.
Your legs had pressed together firmly, relieving yourself of the blooming heat that grew further below.
“A curse,” you begin, feeling his grip tighten even further as your smaller voice sounded, “an outcast. They’re scared of you.” The last sentence comes out in barely a whisper.
He releases your wrist from his hold.
A sudden gust of cold air that surrounds you as his abrupt stand almost puts you into shock. The heat from the irori nonexistent as you finally release a shudder. It was almost as if the air from the winter storm had made its way inside.
“Let me stitch it before you leave,” you quickly let out, noticing how painful it looked. “It’ll heal fine. It’s not that deep,” is all you hear him grunt out. His back is facing you again. The light from the fire illuminating the broadness of it. His fair skin glowing in a tasteful way as he gathers his kimono that pools at his waist where it’s tied. He hadn’t fully removed it, not intending to stay long in the first place.
You watch in awe, entranced by the way his back muscles flex under his skin. Once again you swallow nervously, but for a whole other reason. The heat in your body signaling you why.
“Let me help you,” you insist as you finally stand with him. His right shoulder, the one he’d injured, proved weaker as he slowly pulls up the kimono sleeve. Your much smaller hands meet his to take it from them, pulling the thick fabric over his shoulder neatly. He replies with a grunt as he accepts your help.
With no issue he slides on the other sleeve.
As he fixes how it sits on his body, your eyes scan the room for his haori. The black clump of fabric by the door probably it. You didn’t own any fabrics dark in color. Your mother and father kept you dressed in bright ones; noticeable colors.
You take the fairly weighty haori into your hands and pull it off the floor. It’s softness bringing a comfort to your exposed skin as you walk it towards Sukuna. He’d turned his gaze towards you, capturing your eyes with his own as he takes the article of clothing from your hands.
You assume the rest as you begin to help him guide his arm into the sleeves. With light movements you do the same as you did with his kimono.
“If it’s giving you anymore trouble-“ you begin but quickly you’re cut off by his deep voice, “I won’t. You have done enough.”
You’re left speechless as he ties the haori together.
The average person would have been hurt and confused by his blunt usage of words, but you weren’t a fool. You’d known him since your early childhood, where you were fortunate enough to see a man such as him smile freely with fervor. It’d been years since you’d seen his lips do anything but the scowl that rested there indefinitely.
Though at times, you did find your chest twisting uncomfortably at his words. Especially in moments like this where you wished nothing more than for him to stay here with you in the comforting warm silence.
You also didn’t want him to walk back to his home alone in the snow storm. He lived across the village from you. Located in the less fortunate side. It was at most a fifteen minute walk.
“You want to say something else.” He states rather than asks you. He’s turned his gaze away from you now, walking towards the door. His shoes were at the main entrance of the estate, where you’d walk him to so he wouldn’t get lost in such a grand house. “Perhaps…” you trail off nervously, holding your arms over your stomach as if you were hugging yourself. In the long length of your sleeve, you bunch up the fabric in your fists, doing what you can to calm your buzzing nerves.
Why were you so nervous?
“Perhaps, you could stay here tonight?” You ask him innocently, causing him to freeze his movements. His towering height causes you to bend your neck to look up towards him. The back of his head in your view as you wait for his answer.
Why had you even asked such an ignorant question? You were sure he’d decline-
Your thoughts are silenced by the deep sigh you heard come from him. A noise that proved rather rare from him. Ryomen Sukuna was not one to express his emotions. In any way.
He then turns, “I had not taken the snow into consideration. It would be quite troubling to return home this late with it coming down.”
It’s when you smile, his eyes widen in shock at the sudden expression from you. You knew you wouldn’t be getting a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ from the man. He was a mystery to all but you’d like to think you knew him best… at times.
“The only concern I have with staying the night is being found by anyone of the estate. What do you think they’d think?” He asks you with concern and you sigh, uncrossing your arms from your body to cross them over your chest. “You can just stay in my room-“ he cuts you off almost instantly. “You are not an idiot but your words are starting to prove otherwise,” he says and you chuckle. “If you would let me finish… you can stay in my room. The servants and my parents never disturb me unless something of important is happening that morning. In the midst of a snow storm, I think I can sneak you out early tomorrow with no trouble.”
Your words seem to calm the sudden tension surrounding Sukuna, but the scowl he holds still remains. “So be it.” He mumbles. You give him a warm smile as you walk to the Irori to smother the flames a bit. You wondered if you should just hunker down in this room rather than your own… the only sources of heat being here and the same on your father’s side of the house.
The servants frequented this area, sadly. It was futile and you sighed in defeat as you stood straight.
You usually hadn’t been bothered much by the winter temperatures as your bedding served you quite warmly… you just worried about your guest.
“Follow me,” you whisper as you slide the door open to leave. Immediately, the colder air of the house hits your exposed skin eliciting a shiver from you. You were sure the nervousness of having a guest was not helping your case.
After closing the door behind himself, Sukuna follows you down the dark hallway of your home. The creaking of the wooden floors sounding due to the sheer weight of his body. Each groan off the floor caused an inner grimace, leaving you more nervous as you slowly approached your room.
You only hoped it wouldn’t wake anyone up. It was usually always quiet, especially this time of night.
“Here we are,” you whisper just loud enough for his ears to register. He follows behind you swiftly as you enter the room. The scuffling sound of the sliding door closing makes you hold your breath. As soon as it shuts, you release it, breathing out in a huff.
In a quick movement, you’re in the corner of your room, finding the supplies to light the lantern. It didn’t provide much light, but once lit; you are able to find Ryomen Sukuna standing at the other side of your room. Its warm lighting manages to fill only that corner of the room in which you stood.
The dark corner holds the presence of Ryomen Sukuna. Orange light reflects from his glassy eyes as he stares back at you.
“I have a spare futon in the cabinet. Let me fetch it,” you mumble, hoping the thin walls at least muffle that level of sound. Sukuna doesn’t respond.
His presence in your bedroom is nerve wracking. You’d never had a man in such a intimate place before and if you were to be caught…
You shake the thoughts from your mind as you grasp at the soft futon roll stashed away. Once you pull it free; you lay it flat on the floor beside your own. A servant must have made yours hours ago.
Yet, when you realize how close he would be sleeping next to you; your eyes scan the room for any other possible arrangement.
The size of the room wouldn’t allow it. With the size he was, laying next to you would prove more comfortable.
Once laid flat, you drop to your knees to further fix the fluff of it. You’d let him borrow one of your blankets since you did not have an extra; at least in this room. You would rather freeze to death than risk being caught by anyone at this hour.
“You can use one of my blankets,” you tell him and he releases a grunt. “I’ll do no such thing.” He says with finality. Who were you to object against him when he spoke as sternly as he did. Though guiltily, you nod.
With a flicker, you notice the lantern’s light cascading into a lighter glow. The oil must have been low. You hadn’t checked it in a while and you weren’t sure when you actually did check it last. That meant you wouldn’t have to exit your futon to put it out; perfect, you thought.
As Sukuna lowered to sit himself on the plush futon, you turn towards your folding screen. It laid folded up against the wall, but you’d need to unfold it so you could change without Sukuna seeing. The thought of him accidentally catching a glimpse of you nude has your face fuming, but you quickly shake it off. You grasp at the bamboo screen; paper ruffling as you slowly unfold it. “I need to change out of this kimono. It’s rather uncomfortable to sleep in,” you explain quickly before walking behind it.
In a few quick motions, you shed yourself of your layers. You immediately felt the iciness of winter graze against your bare skin. Your teeth clench as you keep yourself from chattering them.
You had set the screen up with your cabinet behind it. It held your extra clothing, such as your white yukata, which you reached for. With haste, you put it on to keep any warmth you had left inside of you. It’s soft material already doing wonders as if traps your body heat it. The cold makes your fingers hard to move as you tie the yukata together.
You’d kept the thick socks you had on before.
When you stepped out from the cover of the folding screen, you catch Sukuna’s eyes. His dark iris’ stealing a glance before they quickly rip away. It sends a wave of heat through you, which you’re grateful for.
“Does the light bother you?” You ask him as you kneel down to your futon. Your icy fingers peel back the blankets so you can slide in with ease.
Sukuna shakes his head, “I’ve slept in much worse conditions.”
After tucking yourself into the depths of your futon and pulling the blankets over your body; you’re left with your thoughts. The silence of the room radiating around the two of you as you wonder what to do next. Should you bid him goodnight?
The sudden sound of wind slamming against the thin outer wall of the estate makes you jump. “It’s getting worse out,” you mumble as you glance towards the shut window of your room. The shutters had been latched already; probably by a servant. You sigh, tucking your chilled hands into any warmth you could find under your blankets.
You glance out of the corner of your eye to find Sukuna. He’d already laid flat. His large back facing you. For some reason, you felt disappointed. Did he already subdue to slumber? He’d been training extensively the last day and a half… perhaps he was more exhausted than you’d thought.
Alone with your thoughts, as you always seemed to be.
You find it hard to find sleep, staring above at the ceiling as the lantern flickers lightly. Its orange hue illuminating the room in a beautiful way.
It feels like an eternity passes as you wait for sleep, but it doesn’t seem to come. The only thing creeping up on you being the chills. Your feet were miserably icy and your hands ached. You wouldn’t be able to sleep at this rate, you thought. Yet, when you glanced towards the large sleeping man beside you… he was still.
Your eyes widened when you realized he’d been sleeping on his injured shoulder. He must’ve been tougher than you thought to do such a thing.
A shiver breaks through you painfully and you curl your legs into you. The fetal position you form being the best technique at keeping any form of heat in. Yet, you still shiver away. Teeth chatter quietly inside your closed mouth. You really hoped he couldn’t hear-
“I can hear you shivering,” he utters with a quiet sigh. His deep voice softer than usual. “You’re hearing th-things,” you say and immediately clench your teeth, shrinking back into your futon for stuttering. Talking while fighting the cold had always been a challenge.
The shuffling of fabric catches your ears and you move your eyes towards his form. He’d turned over, facing you in all his glory. The light of the lantern illuminating his face partly, but just enough to where you could meet his dark gaze.
The two of you live in each other’s eyes for just a few seconds before he raises his right hand, a tinge of pain washing over his features. Yet, before you could protest; he’s placed his index and middle finger against your cheek. The warmth from his fingers being drastically different than the coolness of your cheek. It almost makes you gasp, but your lips only part a bit.
“You are going to turn to ice at this rate,” he mumbles and the low vibrations of his voice ignite the fire within you. You take in a shaking breath, grateful you could blame that one on the cold if he noticed. “I’m used t-to it,” you say with a pitiful smile. He isn’t convinced, you notice.
He’s removed his hand from your face. Now grasping the thick blankets above you. He peels them off of you slowly, as if he were unwrapping an important artifact. Yet, he moves it just enough to where you’re still partially covered but he moves closer to you. His large body moves closely against yours as he pulls the blankets back over the both of you now. You were grateful to have such a large futon.
In a situation like this, you’d be alarmed by a man climbing into your futon without permission.
It was Sukuna, after all. His towering height and burly body sucked you in almost immediately. The heat in which he radiated made you sigh in relief as the aching iciness in your bones slowly left you.
It was innocent, you felt. He meant no other reason other than warming you up. Once warm, he’d return to his original spot… the thought hit your gut with a wave of heavy dread. Disappointment.
Eagerness. Carnal desire.
You glanced up towards his face, which sat a whole other head above yours. An ache in the back of your neck could be felt due to the angle you’d positioned it. “How is it now?” He asks you in a hushed tone. When he speaks the lantern flickers, as if he had influenced it.
The distance between your bodies is small; enough to wear you could just barely feel the hardness of his large body against yours. It’s intoxicating and quite pitiful how it darkens your mind.
When you move to rest on your right arm, fully facing his body with your own; you boldly place your left hand against the area where his upper stomach would be. Just right below his pectorals. The heat under the palm of your hand was exponential and you were shocked any human man could emit this much heat. Though you weren’t complaining.
Far from it actually.
The simple touch had shot the heat that absorbed into your hand directly to the other parts of your body. From your toes to the tip of your nose, you radiated with sparks. The internal flame within you bursting alive a hunger you never experienced before.
The sensation causes you to close your eyes as you focus on where you’re touching him.
You feel how solid he was even with the layers he wore. The ridges of his abdominal muscles could be felt as you steadily roam your hand over him; exploring his body as if he were uncharted land. That in which he was. You’d never touched a man before… especially in this way. It exhilarated you, feeling Sukuna in the way you are now.
With his warmth and musky scent surrounding you; you’d completely forgotten how cold you were before. All senses were taken over by him. Your sight, smell, touch, even hearing… but one.
As your roaming hand finds the curve of his waist. It slides over it seamlessly, laying flat against his broad back. The muscles they’re just as stone-like as the front. You take that opportunity to pull him closer to you, closing the distance between your bodies. Stone muscles move under your hand as you feel him willingly scoot closer from your push.
He’s fully placed his right hand on the curve of your waist, holding it in a firm grip. The overwhelming largeness of it forming to your curves. His fingers slightly dig into the softness of your flesh that’s still covered by the yukata.
That’s when you finally reopen your eyes, noticing how much closer his face was to yours. He’d moved a bit down to meet your eyes. His nose aligned with the the tip of yours as you still bend your neck to look at him.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he rasps out; his deep voice making it difficult to speak quietly. The closeness of his voice sends a thrilling shiver through your body. You could feel the heat of his breath against your lips, causing you to bite your bottom one just barely enough to where he wouldn’t notice.
“It’s perfect,” you murmur.
You take hold of his haori with a fist, pressing your body even closer to his. All you can hear is your heartbeat in your ears and the feeling of the actual muscle thumping viciously against your chest. Your thighs rub together as you do your best to give yourself some sort of sensation, but Sukuna seems to have noticed.
The hand he had resting in the crook of your waist tightens its hold against you, making you gasp at the sudden shift.
He’s leaned closer; his lips just barely touching your own as he breathes against them. Warm, intoxicating breaths reel you in as seconds pass. You grow impatient, waiting for the warmth of his lips to be on your own. Yet, when he suddenly pulls away; you’re stunned.
He doesn’t pull away completely. Your bodies are still pressed against each other frustratingly so, but he takes his free hand that’s pinned between the two of you, grabbing your chin with his thumb and index finger.
All Sukuna does is gaze down at you with such an intense, hungry look. The darkness that’s swelled into his eyes shows prominently even in the faint lantern light. It’s inebriating, making you drunk off lust just by just the way he looks down at you.
Technically, you were above him; in class and more, but you wanted nothing more than to worship this man like he was your king.
You were on your knees for this man.
“Ryomen…” you plead, unsure what you’re even begging for. The soft way your voice breaks as you say his name almost causes his composure to crack. “Please.”
That’s when he’s on you, pressing his surprisingly soft lips against your own in a starving way. You immediately sigh into him, basking in his warmth, scent, and taste.
He tastes inviting; a flavor that attacks your tastebuds in almost a sinful way.
It’s delectable, swimming with hints of sweetness and bitterness that pulls you in.
Your hand on his back slides towards his chest now, resting against his large pectoral. The feeling of his erratic heartbeat could be felt under your palm as your hand slowly danced its way towards the back of his neck. Bare skin.
Against the flesh of your palm lay his warm skin, melting into you as if it were meant to stay there forever. Your fingers find his hairline, treading into the soft depths of his thick but short hair. When he feels your touch grazing against his scalp, he pulls you closer to him. Your chests are pressed against each other/
Your action bringing out a low rumble within his chest. One you could feel vibrating into your own. It felt oddly intimate, but as he licks his way into your mouth; you accept it.
His wet tongue grazes across your bottom lip before slightly pushing between both. You fully welcome him into your mouth, dancing your tongues together in a sensual rhythm. It almost makes you moan.
In the back of your lust drunken mind, you knew to be as quiet as possible. The challenge ahead of you fairing quite difficult already.
He then pulls away. The sound of your lips separating with an erotic sound. You’re gasping for air as he stares down at you with a passionate desire. His lips are swollen; rosy with color. Pink eyebrows are furrowed together frustratingly as he searches your face with his deep eyes.
You release your hand from his hair, brushing it back down the exposed potion of his large neck. You are still breathing heavily. Chest heaving in rhythm with your hammering heart beat.
Sukuna moves his hand from your chin to the back of your neck now, pushing your lips closer to his once more.
“If I’d known you tasted like that,” Sukuna grunts against your equally swollen lips with your own, “I would have devoured you a long time ago.”
Your self-control slips; lust and desire fully controlling you as you feel your instincts take over completely.
“What’s stopping you now?” You ask him, closing your eyes as you lean further in. His mouth is fully pressed against yours but he replies anyways; words muffled as he speaks into your mouth, “your clothing.”
When he’s pressed his lips fully onto yours for another, more intense kiss; he’s using the hand on your waist to untie the binds of your yukata. The fingers on the back of your neck dig into your skin just enough to earn a light grunt from you.
The feeling of cold air dances over your exposed stomach as he removes the yukata as if he’s unwrapping a gift. Slowly; just to be sure he doesn’t break what’s inside.
Even under the thick covers of the futon you could feel the chilling temperatures of the storm just outside your walls.
Sukuna’s intense body heat had quickly enveloped your newly exposed flesh. His hand exploring what he’d unwrapped to discover his new terrain.
When his large hand takes hold of the swell of your ass, you’re bucking into him. His fingers dig into the soft flesh as he pulls you tighter against him, bucking back into you. A grunt comes from his chest and into your mouth as he kisses you feverishly.
That’s when you feel the intimidatingly large and hard sensation of his eager erection pressed against your lower stomach. Though he wasn’t bare; it felt- your thoughts are cut off by his hand sliding from your ass and down your bare leg, hooking it over his waist. His strong fingers gripping into the flesh of your thigh.
While still attached to your mouth he flips you under him, planting both of forearms on either side of your head as he places one last heavy kiss to your abused lips.
With how you’re laying under him, it’s caused your yukata to completely open. Your body fully exposed to the man atop you. His gaze lingers as he glances at your breasts; to your neck; to your lips again, and finally your eyes.
“You’re heavenly,” he mumbles, taking his right hand to hold the side of your face. His thumb presses against your bottom lip while moves your head to give himself access to your neck. “Divine,” he continues his praise, pressing wet kisses along the expanse of your neck. “Elegant,” he says into your chilled skin. His compliments leave your stomach swirling with heat, pooling in your core between your legs.
Your thighs instinctively press together but are blocked by the girth of his waist between them. When he realizes what you need; he’s bucking his erection against your core, causing a sweet but quiet moan to fall from your lips.
“Please,” you gasp out in a whisper, feeling the way his thumb strokes across your wet bottom lip. He slides it into your mouth, pressing against your tongue as he moves his head to catch your eyes once more. “What do you want?” He asks you.
Once he removes his large thumb your words stumble out in a mess, “I want you, please.” You say pitifully, squeezing your thighs around his waist even tighter.
It’s when he chuckles, you’re feeling the vibrations of his deep voice radiating through his body. You didn’t care that he found humor in your begging. If anything, it reeled you in even more. He had you fully wrapped around his finger and soon his cock.
He doesn’t speak as he pulls away from you. Between your legs, he moves back to sit on his knees, reaching to remove his haori. The sound of him hissing has you in full alarm, but he immediately throws a hand up. “Don’t,” he commands and you nod, laying completely still in his line of sight as he undresses himself.
His haori soon slides off his broad shoulders, revealing the white kimono. Unlike other men, he only wore the single layer of kimono. It was probably due to his status… but that didn’t matter.
When he unties the kimono; he’s soon shrugging it off with ease, ignoring the pain in his right shoulder. His black hakama are all that remain as you take in view of the man before you. His large upper body had blocked out the light from the lantern, casting a shadow over you.
The night air quickly takes its chance to send a shiver down your spine once again. Your hands shake as you run them up your body, grazing them over your breasts in an almost taunting way. You feel how hard your nipples had gotten from the winter air. As you touch yourself under his gaze, you arch your back into your hands.
Within seconds, he’s removed his last layer. He’s standing above you now, stepping out of the hakama.
Yet, before you could even take the chance to glance at what he had been keeping contained within his clothing; he’s atop you once more, returning the heat you had missed desperately.
He takes a second to warm you up before pressing his fully bare cock against your clit, spreading a warmth into you that you hadn’t known you needed. It’s such a pleasurable sensation you throw your head back with a silent gasp, holding his gaze.
“You are a virgin, right?” He asks you, genuinely curious. You hadn’t ever discussed such topics with him. Of course he wouldn’t have known. “Yes…” you breathe out as he holds his wait up with his left forehead beside your head. He’s leaned down to press his lips under your ear, nipping at it. You twitch as the sudden sharpness, shuddering when he chuckles.
“I’m glad I get to be the one to ruin you.”
His words in your ear make your heart hammer harder against your chest, if that was even possible.
Your hands had moved from your breasts to his bare sides, taking in the entirety or Ryomen Sukuna. For just a 25 year old man, he held more power over any other man in the village. He held power over you as well; you were completely, absolutely his.
The way his ripped muscles felt under your fingers was driving you mad, causing you to buck up into him. A light hiss releasing from his lips into the skin of your neck as he kisses down to your collar bone.
Soon enough, he’s taken one of your nipples into his mouth. The other breast being fondled by his large hand. You release the loudest moan you had so far, which causes him to release the breast in his hand to cover your mouth.
You glance down, locking your eyes with his as he lightly nips at your nipple with his white teeth.
“As much as I want to hear those pretty sounds,” he mumbles into the flesh of your breast. He nips at your flesh, possibly leaving a mark before finishing his sentence, “I’m not trying to be banished from the village right now.”
He releases your mouth and your lips part, showing your eagerness for all of him.
Yet, he pulls his waist away from yours.
The hand he’d used to cover your mouth trails down the curve of your waist and over your hip… it finds its way back over the soft expanse of your stomach and then further below. His thick fingers graze over the sensitive flesh of your clit, sliding between the folds with ease as he discovers just how wet you are.
The foreign sensation has you electrified, making your hips jerk at his touch. You’d never been touched like that before.
He swirls his fingers over you and your eyes slam shut as you buck into him. It’s indescribable how pleasant it feels; a warm and blooming sensation growing in the base of your gut as he does so. You can hear his light chuckling even with your heart hammering in your ears.
You wonder how it could get any better than this… but when you open your eyes, you’re watching as Sukuna takes your other nipple in his mouth. Just as he does, you feel a warm intrusion and a groan from the both of you.
“You’re so tight,” he says into your flesh as you feel his tongue swirl around your nipple. You could feel his two fingers deep inside of you, slowly moving back out as you adjudge to the sheer size of them.
It wasn’t painful, but from the chatter of the other women… you were told in times it could do. He hadn’t even gotten to the main part yet, you thought. It’s possibly it wouldn’t hurt.
He begins to thrust his fingers into you with a slow pattern. Each time he’d bottom out to his knuckle, you’d release a breath. The sensation was unreal; unlike anything you’d ever felt before.
He releases his breast from his mouth to kiss your sternum. His lips trail further below, kissing the area above your belly button.
“More,” you plead, taking your hand to cup the side of his face. He looks at you softly, but a sly smirk grows on his features. “If you weren’t in danger of freezing to death I could do so much more,” he promises as he climbs back up your body. He’s removed his fingers from your clit, bringing them towards his face.
You watch as he sticks them into his mouth, cleaning yourself off of him with a feral look in his eyes. “Like what?” You ask him, interested. “In time you’ll see. For now,” he explains, removing his fingers from his mouth, “I say we stick to the first step.”
You weren’t an idiot, so you knew what that meant. A part of you wondered if he was holding back, especially after learning you were celibate.
Yet, when you feel the way his cock sits heavily against your clit, you swallow nervously. You hadn’t even seen it but you could feel how big it was.
On instinct, you reach between your bodies to find it. Your fingertips coming into contact with something large and very warm. It’s when he hisses that you’re sure you did the right thing. You take him in your hand, squeezing just a bit as you feel how large he actually was. A but if wetness can be felt dripping down your hand.
You were nervous.
As he looked down at you, catching the nervous look in your eyes; Sukuna sighs, “I’ll be easy,” he tells you. You nod, sliding your hand down his shaft which gets a buck of his hips and a sly remark, “at first.”
“I’m not a fragile person,” you remind him, making his eyebrow raise. “Give me all you got.”
Your words you almost regret as he takes your hand from his cock and gathers your other one to pin them at the top of your head. “You’ll regret demanding that of me,” he tells you and you don’t reply. “Please,” is all you beg.
He keeps your hands bound with just his left hand as he takes his right to position himself at your entrance. You can feel as he spreads the wetness with his tip through your folds, teasing you a bit. You buck into him again, tired of waiting.
All you wanted was to be fully taken over by Sukuna. “Take me,” you plead to him, feeling his tip make its way back to your entrance.
He then releases your bound wrists to hold himself up as he begins pushing in further. “You’re drenched,” he purrs, his eyes closed as he pulls back out a bit to push back in.
You’d never seen his face as soft as it was now. He looked as if he was in pure ecstasy, taking your virginity as if it were just some collectors item. You’d gladly gift it to him.
When his cock finally makes it a quarters way in, you hiss. Your hands push at his lower abdomen on impulse. The sudden intrusion bringing a slightly searing pain you didn’t expect to feel. He immediately stops, glancing up at you in concern.
You nod once, removing your hands from his stomach to signal he can continue. You clench your eyes shut, holding onto his forearms as he finally slides himself completely inside. You’re slightly squirming, adjusting to the new feeling of being stuffed. It’s painful, but also exhilarating.
You’re panting now, digging your face into the stone muscle of his left arm. He’s motionless, letting you decide the next move.
“You can move,” you finally whisper after a few seconds. He does, almost eagerly.
Within seconds, you feel the pain being taken over by waves of intense pleasure. Though still slightly uncomfortable, it’s the way Sukuna’s face makes you feel as he slowly thrusts into you. It’s heartwarming, seeing his pink lashes flutter close as he bottoms out into you over and over. He’s breathtaking, you tell yourself.
It’s when you release one of your hands from his arms to cup the side of his face, causing his eyes to open. He looks absolutely spent, probably from the training and being up.
Beads of sweat pool at his hairline as his dark eyes stare into your own.
“You’re beautiful,” you tell him with your whole heart. His thrusts become a lot heavier and quicker in pace. He’s not making a sound, but you could hear the almost silent grunts coming from behind his clenched teeth.
You’re sighing, feeling the same building up sensation as before in your stomach. “Ryomen!” You gasp, pulling him to you so your chests lay flat together. He’s still pounding into you, hard enough to where it’s not going to overstimulate you. It’s enough.
He’s placed his forearm behind your head, letting the back of it rest on it as his other lay flat on the other side. He’s got his lips back on yours, releasing a pent up groan into your mouth.
If you could have it your way, you’d be chanting his name as loud as you could. Praising him and pleasing him.
For now, your quiet promises to each other would have to do. You feel a sudden jolt, which causes your hips to buck into his thrusts. “I- I’m-“ you gasp out, unsure of what you’re even saying. “You’re what?” He asks into your lips, a slight smirk growing on his own. Your breaths are mixed together as you pant pitifully against him.
“I don’t know,” you confess, taking your hand to press against your stomach. “It feels-“ is all you say before he thrusts just a bit harder, gaining a whimper out of you. “Quiet,” he hisses, taking one of his hands to snake between the two of you.
He understands what you’re trying to tell him even though you aren’t sure. It excites him, knowing he can tear down your walls this easily.
He’s touching your clit again while he pounds into you. The sensations so good you gasp.
After about a minute, you’re unfolding in his hands. Your body feeling as if it were burning as it blossoms on his thrusting cock. “That’s right,” he rasps out, “let go.”
You were a whimpering mess as his continuous thrusting helped you through this new form of high. You never knew you could feel this way. It was addicting, and you wanted to feel it again.
As the high slowly faded, leaving you in an after glow; your body ached. Yet, he continued his movements, removing his hand from your clit to completely focus on himself now. You allowed him to, because though it felt like a lot… it was still pleasing, feeling him use you to please himself.
“Use me,” you tell him. He’d moved his face into the crook of your neck. His ear right next to your mouth. “I’m yours,” you whisper against his burning flesh. He grunts into your neck, thankfully muffled.
He then snakes his left arm under your back, grabbing your hip with his right hand. His fingers dig into your flesh.
Relentlessly, he’s pounding into you. Using you.
You’re overcome with pleasure, closing your eyes as you feel him bite into your neck as he nears his climax.
When he gets close, his thrusts become irregular. His breathing becoming heavier as the arm below you presses you into his body further.
His teeth graze against the skin of your neck before he bites down, hard.
You’re left gasping as he suddenly pulls out of you, placing his heavy cock on your stomach and thrusting against your soft skin as your bodies are pressed together.
You feel a sudden wet warmness on you. Assuming it was sweat, he then pulls away. His chest heaving as he stares down at the mess he’s made. You’re covered in his cum and his cock twitches at the sight of it.
One of his hands goes to cover his mouth as looks down at you. You’re glowing and he’s holding himself back; keeping himself from taking you once more.
He knew you probably would actually break.
He glances around the room and finds his kimono, taking the sleeve to wipe at your stomach. “It shouldn’t stain this,” he murmurs quietly as he cleans you. There was nothing else in the room to do so with.
You’re already back into a shivering mess and the sight makes him sigh. “Be patient,” he whispers. You nod, watching him finish. As he places his kimono away for now, he turns back to you.
Sukuna finds your yukata and wraps it back around you. The comfort of the cloth enveloping your body as he ties it.
It’s when he fully stands, you’re able to fully appreciate his naked body. He was a sight to behold and you wondered how someone like you could possibly be considered of higher rank than him…
He dresses himself, but just his hakama.
When he slides back under the blankets of the futon, his naked chest bleeds his heat onto you.
Your mind jumps to his wound, immediately concerned. You hadn’t spotted any blood but when you ask him to show you… it’s healed. The once deep wound nothing but a red line showing what it used to be. It’s genuinely shocking.
With wide eyes you stare at him but he continues to slide further into the futon. His gaze darkening as you eye him questioningly. “It’s none of your concern,” is all he says before he pulls you to him.
You knew better than to pester him any further on it. In time, you’d learn.
He keeps you warm the rest of the night.
You listen to the sounds of his heartbeat in one ear and the whistling of the wind outside in the other. It’s calming.
As you awake in the morning, you’re wrapped in an extra layer. The black fabric thick against your skin.
It smells heavily of Ryomen Sukuna as you blink the sleep away from your eyes, finding his haori wrapped around you.
Sukuna was no where in sight.
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stirthewaters · 7 months
Text
Bad Mood
Word Count: 1.1k
Warnings: slightly ooc Wednesday?? angst - fluff, (not proofread I just threw it together 😭)
Summary: Wednesday has trouble figuring out your bad mood and decides to take it into her own hands
Pairings: Wednesday x GN!Reader
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Wednesday was frustrated, to say the least. Though she would never vocally express her irritations towards you, you were surely a dilemma, and the fact that she was having trouble solving the puzzle that was you at the moment was most definitely the issue.
You had been moping all day, acting uncharacteristically sulky and closed off. Wednesday would’ve almost liked it if she wasn’t so put off by your sudden change of behavior. Sulking didn’t look good on you, she observed, as you sat beside her during class, not paying attention and absentmindedly twirling a pencil between your thumbs, the wood surprisingly close to splintering as you did so.
No, you had not given any reasoning to why you were feeling this way, and Wednesday did not like the sneaking suspicion that she might have had something to do with it. Though she couldn’t recall ever explicitly saying or doing anything to make you upset she knew that she was most certainly not one to know much about any sort of complex emotional drama, and therefore she was left outside of the tangled barbwire that was your emotions. Why must you be so confusing? Puzzles were supposed to be enjoyable to solve, not frustrating.
Wednesday let you be most of the day, silently hoping some time would improve your mood but you remained either irritable and snappy or moody and quiet, practically telling off Xavier when he came late to class and delayed it about ten minutes. Although the Addams had to admit that she found a sort of amusement in seeing you scold someone, it wasn’t followed by the playful roll of your eyes that you usually gave someone to indicate you were joking. Clearly something had upset you and she was getting increasingly frustrated.
The raven tried easing your irritably by placing a cold hand on your warm thigh, trying to practice the gentle rubs that she typically knew you liked, and though you stiffened as usual under her touch it did nothing to soften your mood as your eyes darkly flitted away.
But that didn’t worry her. Wednesday wasn’t used to being worried, let alone emotions themselves. To the Addams, emotions were a tangled spiderweb that once trapped in became a struggle to navigate, distracting one from common sense and rationality. Yet, she still felt the uncomfortable prickling of sickening worry in her chest when she saw you actually tear up. And it was almost without reason. Nobody had spoken to you unkindly or done anything physically immoral, yet your eyes glistened and you pulled your hood over your head, dark eyes disappearing behind its frame as you did so. You were crying? Wednesday briefly wondered whether or not she’d seen you cry before, most certainly she hadn’t without explicable reason.
Your quiet sniffles seemed to be the only thing her brain would allow her to hear amidst the sound of students around you.
Instantly she gripped your wrist gently yet firmly, pulling you into a dark corner in the hall as she searched for your eyes under the hood. That prickle in her chest started to scratch as you huffed out stiffly, in a voice close to cracking. “What is it?”
Wednesday silently brought her hand up to your hood, pulling it down carefully to see your dark eyes swimming in tears, and she felt her voice soften just slightly at the sight of them as she murmured, “I wish to know what has been bothering you throughout the day. You’ve been distant and irritable.” You tried to look away but she gently pulled your chin back to look at her, feeling you shake under her grasp. “Cara Mia, I would like to know whether or not I have been the source of your…” the Addams struggled for the right word. “Current emotional status.”
You shook your head weakly. God, she could tell you were fragile. It was as if the slightest poke could set you off, and she knew she had to tread carefully. Her brain raced to remember everything Enid had taught her on… comfort. The idea was a personal ick but with you she would make an exception. “Would you like to leave?” Your weak nod was all the confirmation she needed as she laced her pinky into yours to subtly pull you through the crowd. God, she was disgusted by pda but you weakened her, and she despised you for it.
In the privacy of her dorm, the gentle rain slapping against the large window, she watched as you shakily exhaled, clearly fighting off your tears as you closed your eyes and struggled to speak. “Today has just…been… a lot. It’s- I- I can’t-“ your voice finally cracked slightly.
Wednesday stood opposite you for a moment, in thought as the scratching of worry in her heart began to pulsate into more of a pain. Not a pleasant pain that she usually experienced, rather a more unpleasant one at the sight of the tear that fell from your eye, hitting the floorboards and disappearing. She felt as if she’d always remember that oddly specific place on the floor from now on.
Stepping forwards she shoved aside all of her disgust and apathy for touch and wrapped her cold arms around your waist to pull you in, your head falling atop of yours as she muttered into your neck, “from what I do know about emotions I have heard that it is a rather healthy way to deal with them by crying.” 
As if on cue from the touch and soft words she felt you slowly fall apart, quietly trembling as you cried silently, burying your face into her hair that she silently noted to wash later to get any snot out of.
She slowly brought you down to the floor with her, letting you cry as she tried her best to comfort you, tracing small patterns on your collarbone and neck, giving you small and delicate kisses here and there as to show that she was here with you. When your sobs began to ease she felt your weight press against her more, and she quickly put together that you were exhausted. She shushed you softly, letting you burrow into her as much as you needed. God, you were so warm, it was as if you were thawing the ice that she had worked so hard to freeze. 
Although still not inclined to show any major affection, she did press a small cold kiss to your temple, letting you rest in her arms as your head shifted into your lap and her hand threaded its way into your hair, slowly and softly stroking in an effort to calm you down, finally the nagging confusion and frustration easing as you both fell into a calm, the rain providing a soothing atmosphere. 
Perhaps Enid’s teachings had paid off.
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calypso707 · 6 months
Note
Can I request a Druid tav x Astarion? Where over time and a ton of talks about it Astarion allows tav to try different ways to flatten his scars on his back? Different lotions/creams and massages? Not necessarily making them disappear but flattening them enough so their not as raised and angry.
That’s a good one, i hope you'll like it, it was a bit more challenging but I enjoyed writing it. I've done it differently, though. I preferred to write the first time they treat his scars. Please don't hesitate to send me feedback ! Enjoy ! (๑˘︶˘๑)
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OS - Astarion x Gn druid reader : On your skin.
Since you were a child, you had always imagined that you'd spend your life in the Circle, at the service of nature and protecting the balance. But recent events had completely turned your life upside down: your kidnapping by mind flayers, the crash of their nautiloid, the victory over the goblins… Not to mention the roommate you had in your skull. And these events, however improbable, had driven you to create the strangest alliances.
Your favorite time of day was when you returned to your camp in the Wilderness. You enjoyed the calm that settles all around you as soon as night fell, you liked to hear the wood creak under the fire, you loved to gaze up at the sky as if to interpret the messages left by the stars, you even caught yourself listening for the animals prowling nearby. Oak Father, you loved those quiet moments. You knelt at the edge of the shore, not far from your tent, your eyes closed and your breathing stilled to the rhythm of the waves undulating in the wind. You allowed your mind to wander, you were surrounded by strange companions and you had permitted your heart to fall in with the most unusual being of all.
Astarion.
A vampire.
If your Circle were to find out… For many, vampires were an abomination of nature, but for you, he was just a magistrate with immoral tendencies and a liking for blood. You did not know if the feeling was mutual, and you did not particularly want to find out. Astarion cherished his freedom and it was just as meaningful to you. He had spent much of his spawn life in the service of a cruel lord who had submitted him to all kinds of vices. You thought back to the inscriptions carved into the flesh of his back and how he must have suffered.
A throat-clearing sounded above you and you opened your eyes. Speaking of the devil.. You did not even hear him coming. Astarion was standing in front of you, looking… Unsure?
"I've been thinking about what you said. About my… Scars."
You stood up to face him properly, inviting him with a nod to continue.
"I would like you to treat them to make them less, well.. Noticeable," he added. "They do not, of course, affect my beauty, but if you could make them more pleasing to the eye, I would not say no."
You rolled your eyes at his words. The two of you had discussed this several times. You simply offered to help, you had no wish to erase them because they were part of him. You just wanted to make them less sensitive so you were waiting for him to give you permission. "All right, I will take care of it. Let's go to my tent, so we can have some privacy"
You gestured for him to follow you, which he surprisingly did without protesting. You entered the tent, which was large enough for just one person. On the right was your paillasse, surrounded by books of various subjects. On the left, a huge solid wood table held all your herbs, elixirs, ointments and recipes. You invited him to sit on a wooden stool beside you.
"Let me have a look"
Astarion seemed to hesitate for a moment and finally removed his shirt before tossing it onto your bed. He seemed almost… uncomfortable. Yet it was not the first time you had seen him half-naked. You stood behind him and slowly brought your fingers to his scarred skin.
"May I?"
"Yes," He replied in a breath, his unease was palpable. He seemed vulnerable.
You gently ran your fingers over his upper back, cautiously brushing his scars. You felt him flinch slightly at the warmth of your skin, which contrasted with the coldness of his. It was the first time you had seen them so closely. The Language of the Hells had been carved into his flesh two centuries ago, and you could still guess the pain he must have felt. According to him, it was a poem, a very strange poem. The cruelty of the act made your heart ache and your stomach twist. How could he have survived such pain?
"It was a surprise. As you can see, Cazador's surprises are never good ones," commented Astarion.
You looked up at the mirror in front of you, and although his reflection was not visible, you could see you touching his invisible skin as delicately as possible, his face was turned to the mirror, examining your every move. You detached yourself to search through your ointments and took one you had prepared earlier. It was a derivative of Silvanus' elixir, based on boiling theriac and mugwort bundle. Returning to stand behind him, you took a generous quantity of the mixture with your fingers before applying it delicately to the marks. Astarion twitched again, looking over his shoulder at you.
"I am sorry" You said.
"No, it is cold. But it feels… Nice"
You slowly knelt behind him and carefully applied the ointment, making sure his skin properly absorbed the treatment. The effect was almost instantaneous, and the scars seemed less vivid to the naked eye. It would take several applications for it to be fully effective. You ran your fingers along the long lines that ended at the lower part of his back and noticed that a shiver ran through his body. This moment was different from the others you had shared, even more intimate because he had allowed you to get closer to that part of his past he hated. He had allowed himself to be vulnerable in front of you.
"Do you feel any difference?" you asked, looking up at him as he swiveled on the stool to face you. You wiped your fingers on a clean cloth.
"Hm.." He made a move as if trying to stretch his skin. He seemed a bit surprised. "I used to feel them, itching. I no longer feel that discomfort"
"It will require repeated application for it to be more effective, but it is a good start"
"Oh, are you offering me private sessions for massages?" questioned the vampire, a mischievous smile on his lips.
You smiled at his question and, as you stood up, he grabbed your arm to pull you towards him. He wrapped his right arm around your waist and his left hand slid down your forearm. This embrace took you by surprise, but you did not push him away, on the contrary. He took your hand in his and brought your fingers to his lips, softly. He half-opened his mouth as he slid your index and middle finger over his lower lip, revealing his fangs. A shiver of excitement ran through your body.
"It means a lot, you know, what you do for me. I will never forget it."
⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯
I hope you enjoyed it, feel free to have a look at my other writings on Astarion ! Love ya !
Astarion x gn druid reader : On your skin (pt.2)
Astarion x gn reader : A thousand thanks
Astarion x gn reader : No place for love
Fic : Astarion x Fem! bard Tav : Fruit of the Poisonned Tree
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theprettynosferatu · 9 months
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CW: Orientation play/conversion. Remember that your sexuality is valid, and conversion is NOT a thing beyond fantasy. Also, fuck "conversion therapy"
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“All I’m saying is…”
“Look, you’re speaking out of your ass”, Ava said, barely containing her frustration.
“How am I speaking out of my ass? It has been done and thoroughly…”, he tried to reply.
“Yes, yes, Pavlov, blah blah blah. But you’re talking about something else entirely, not conditioning reactions”
“Not Pavlov, Skinner! Actions can be conditioned too. Look around you! Mobile games, casinos, even the goddamn army uses conditioning to…”
“Can we agree that there’s a difference between conditioning obedience in a controlled setting and whatever the fuck it is you’re suggesting? You’re not talking about tapping on impulse to buy funbucks in a game! You are talking…”
“It’s only a difference of degree, not of kind. With the right combination of techniques…”
“No, there’s a core there that you can’t just… overwrite. Some things can’t be changed. Like… like how you can’t hypnotize someone into doing something they would never do”
“You know that’s bullshit, right? The whole hypnosis thing. You absolutely can make someone do whatever the fuck you want. It’s just a matter of how you approach it. Like, you would never harm a person, okay? But if I change what your idea of ‘person’ is, say, by making it more narrow you would absolutely harm someone I made you see as a not-person. Or maybe you can be made to believe you’re helping them, not harming them”
“That’s some creepy cult shit, dude. And anyway you can’t write a paper on this because a) there’s no evidence and b) doing the research to get evidence would be absolutely immoral. So I say look for another topic and for the love of God don’t go around spewing that bullshit if you want to ever get laid. Oh, speaking of! Linda will be arriving shortly and we have a date night, so please, please try to be a normal roommate and not freak her out. For me, okay?”
“When have I ever freaked her out? Linda loves me! And who knows, maybe she has an opinion on our little debate”
“Dude, she’s an Art student. I doubt she’ll be interested in our weird Psych dissertations”
“Perfect! Fresh eyes!”
“See, that’s the kind of weird shit I-”
The buzzer cut through the air, and a moment later Linda was inside the apartment, all smiles as usual. He took a moment to watch them as they embraced. 
They were almost comical in their contrast. Linda was tall, taller than he was, willowy and slender, her limbs graceful and shapely, her hair a long, flowing river of playful copper that almost seemed to dance on its own volition– with her green sundress she appeared to him as some sort of elven princess ripped from the pages of a fantasy novel and stuck into a mortal world in which she didn’t really fit. Ava, on the other hand, was probably the shortest adult he had ever seen. He might be tempted to call her petite, but that had a connotation of a lithe frame, almost like a tastefully proportioned doll. Ava was the complete opposite of that. Sometimes he felt Ava was an experiment aimed at testing how much of a person’s weight could be tits and ass, held up by strong, thick thighs. He felt quite guilty about such thoughts, and he understood why she wore nothing but oversized t-shirts and hoodies. It was logical: an early, spectacular growth spurt, heightened by her small size, had made her the target of relentless bullying by jealous classmates and awkward come-ons by hormonal teen males. It enraged him, he realized. Ava was beautiful and the cruelty of idiots had made her feel pain about it instead of pride. He made a point to never stare at her, even if he sometimes failed. It made their relationship as roommates a tad hard, he had to admit. 
 
Not that he had a shadow of a shot, of course. Ava had no interest in men.
Unless, of course, he was right in his theory. And he had good reason to think he was.
“So, Linda: Ava and I were having a bit of a debate…”
“Don’t start, dude”, said Ava.
“Oh, a debate! Do tell!” chirped Linda.
“Do you think we can be completely conditioned and changed, or is there some part of us that cannot be modified, no matter what?”
“Huh. Hard one. Like… a soul? I don’t know I buy it. I feel there isn’t really a self, you know? Like… Buddhism. The self is an illusion and all that”
“Come on, you can’t be serious! You can’t change who someone fundamentally is, and it’s sick to even consider it!”, said Ava.
“Well… what if I could prove to you it can be done?”, he stated, barely able to hold back. He know what he was going to do. He had been reluctant, but now it felt like a certainty.
“You can’t, so stop being an ass”, said Ava.
Fine. Game on.
“Linda, I love your socks! Pride socks!”
“Yup!”, said Linda
“What the hell–”, mumbled Ava.
He took a deep breath.
“Linda: rainbow socks…”
She replied in an instant.
“Are for sucking cocks!”
Ava felt as if reality had shifted into some horrible, twisted nightmare. She was about to scream something, anything really, to make Linda take that back before something stopped her in her tracks. Her body heard it before her mind did: her roommate's voice simply commanding her. Watch. 
And she watched. She watched as the love of her life smiled and went on her knees. Ava could do nothing but watch in disbelief and pain. Linda had never been with a man. Ever. 
“I might have… started testing my theories. On you both. Not that you’d remember, obviously”, he stated casually as the beautiful girl in front of him lovingly undid his pants. “I’d say Linda’s sexuality is part of her core self, wouldn’t you? Let’s see how that holds up after the months of conditioning I’ve subjected her to”
He felt guilty, sure; but there was such a high to it, such an entrancing quality to the combination of seeing instant, complete obedience and the final, definitive proof of the truth he had known to be right all along. Was it wrong? Yes. Did he care? Not at the moment. Ava’s eyes were a poem to him. Suddenly he was ripped from his reverie by the soft, loving touch of Linda’s tongue on his dick. He hadn’t even realized he had gotten hard just from the sense of complete power, of total, undeniable conquest. This was a primal, ancient arousal. Ava could do nothing but watch, and he took that sight in. God, he could almost taste it.
Linda moaned. The cock was so beautiful. So perfect. She felt so… silly, like she was now, for the first time, seeing in color and realizing the sky was, in fact, blue. It was obvious. Simple. Natural. Cock deserved worship. Cock deserved devotion. Cock demanded obedience. It was as if it was growing in her mind, taking over more and more of her, pushing who she had been out effortlessly. It expanded. It corrupted. It twisted and shifted all within. Cock. Cock. Cock. She kissed it with reverence, in awe of it. It was all that existed to her. All that mattered. She needed to please it. Needed to feel it throbbing inside her. Needed to be taken by it.
Ava saw her girlfriend slide a hand between her legs and felt nauseous. As much as she knew this wasn’t Linda’s fault, she could feel her heart breaking, her anger rising… and worse, her pussy getting wet. Her body betraying her. She hated him, and she hated Linda, and she hated herself most of all.
Suddenly, Linda couldn’t contain herself. She relaxed her throat, looked up at her Master and took his entire manhood inside her mouth. She almost came instantly. It was peaceful and sexy and just simple, like his cock was the puzzle piece that fit her perfectly, completed her, made her whole. She existed to be conquered, and realizing she was putting his pleasure over her ability to breathe was the final sign of her complete, loving surrender. She let it out, watched it glisten with her spit, and started licking it and loving it and she didn’t know how much came from her own need and how much it was a silent command by the man who had shown her the light. Her mind was too fuzzy to make such distinctions anymore.
He took a deep breath, fighting back the first signs of an orgasm. He needed to make a point.
“Linda… do you love Ava?”
The blonde stopped for a moment, shocked by a myriad of contradictions.
“Yes”, she decided. Her voice was shaking.
“Tell her”
Linda looked at Ava, the woman she had loved above all others.
“I love you…”
“But you have more to say, don’t you?”
“I… hmph… I…”
“Tell her”
“I love you… but… but… I love his cock so much more! Fuck! I need it! I need to feel it, to suck it, to be fucked by it… I’m sorry… but… I love it, I love it, I love it! I want it to fuck my throat, to take my cunt, to ram my ass! I need it! I need to be a slave to it, a whore for it, a fucking living toy!”
“What if you had to choose between Ava and my cock?”
“Fuck her! Sorry, my love… I do love you, but… You can never do to me what… what Master does to me, what his cock makes me feel! I hope I won’t have to dump you but… I would leave you for this cock in a minute! I’d do anything. Anything. Anything!” If she had more to add, her need to serve cock snuffed it. She took it all in with desperation, with total, shameless abandon. She needed to feel... used. In her proper place.
Ava felt a tear roll down her cheek. Her knees buckled in defeat. She didn’t even care. It was all gone. Her life, her love, all gone. And she could feel her eyes drawn again and again to the cock that had destroyed her. She felt her mouth watering.
“Linda, would you say you’re a lesbian?”
“Fuck no!”, she said before immediately wrapping her lips around the cock’s head.  
He felt a swell of pride. Of triumph. He knew Ava sensed the truth as well. He was right. He had proven his point. And now Ava’s full conditioning would take hold. A little bet with himself, making her own mental acknowledgment of his theory her final trigger. She took off her t-shirt. She would never wear it again. No more shame, no more pain about her figure. Only arousal and pride. His gift to her.
She crawled to him on all fours. The girls kissed– but now, they kissed for him, to arouse him. They were lovers, only they both knew there was a higher love. A truer love. Ava looked up at her owner and opened her mouth, greedily awaiting his blessing. Linda used her skillful hands, aiming his cock and teasing it, jacking it off, using just the right amount of pressure and speed. 
No man could resist such a sight.
In a few seconds, Ava was covered in his cum, more beautiful than she had ever been. Linda certainly felt that way, and she licked and kissed her sister slut clean.
He watched carefully, looking for signs of defiance, and finding none. In fact, Linda put his fears to rest with a simple statement.
“Ava, we need to buy you a pair of rainbow socks”
Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work at patreon.com/prettynosferatu !!
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demonsword586 · 2 months
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Beelzebub Attacker part 4
Damn,I forgot how wild this man can be...
(Pg: Inside the club)
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Beelzebub: You have time to think of something else too,huh?
You glanced around a bit,feeling the stares,and Beelzebub chuckled,and then he reached down with one hand and pressed his palm firmly against the underside of your stomach,right where your womb was.
Mc: Argh!
The pressure he created wasn't just pleasurable,it made you feel like you were going to pee.
Mc: Wait,wait!
As you cried out in desperation,Beelzebub sped up as though if he had been waiting for it.
At the same time,the crassly blatant sound of flesh slapping echoed through the room,accompanied by your voice.
Fhe line of devils watching you and Beelzebub has grown in the meantime.
You felt the stares,and Beelzebub was turned on to the top of his head by the sight of you being embarrassed and caring about such things.
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Beelzebub: Ha,ha,I'm coming again!
Mc: Ah,ah!
You could only reply in a gasping voice,a mixture of moaning and breathing.
You could sense that Beelzebub's second climax was near as his movements grew faster and wilder.
Beelzebub: I'm...co-...ming!
Mc: Mm,mmh!
You were gasping but nodded in affirmation,using only your head.
Beelzebub's second ejaculation was approaching,but you were already having sma orgasms again and again.
Mc: Aarghhh!!!
Beelzebub: Urgh!
Squirt-!!!
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Thw moment Beelzebub spurted his cum inside you,you felt a shiver run up your spine and into your head like you'd never felt before and you 'shot' the first clear water you'd ever seen between your legs.
The fluids you spewed mixed with the sweat on Beelzebub's chest and ran down between his chest.
Mc: Huff...huff...huff...
You hung limply,feeling as if you had squezzed every ounce of excitement out of your body.
Beelzebub finally extracted hia still imposing cock as though he was really going to let you 'rest' now.
Glug-
You shuddered as you felt the cum from your hole seep between you buttcheeks.
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Beelzebub: Kekeke...You can,do it.
Then,Beelzebub wrapped the back of your bottom with a satisfied look on his face.
Then,you felt the knocking of his fingers in your back hole. All your senses froze for a moment,and you flinched.
Your senses focused on the new sensation of shame and immorality that washed over you,as if only your rear end existed there.
Mc; Ah...Beelzebub,not there!
You flapped in suprise and tried to move his hand,but Beelzebub easily subdued your hand.
Fiddling with the entrance to the hole,Beelzebub pushed his finger into it,pushing his cum which had soaked through your legs and into your backside,gradually getting deeper and deeper.
The sensation was nerve-wracking,almost maddening. Then Beelzebub's hands squezzed your breasts. And then Beelzebub's hand went into your mouth.
Mc: (Wait,Beelzebub is still holding my thighs with both his hands?!)
Startled,you glanced back at your surroundings and was stunned by what ypu see panicking to the point where your nose dripped with sweat from an instantaneous cold sweat.
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Beelzebub: Is this where you said I shoudn't touch?
Mc: Beelzebub?! Wait...there are two Beelzebubs?!
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Beelzebub: What if there are three?
Mc: ?!?!
Next to Beelzebub fondling your asshole under your legs,another Beelzebub regarded you and smirked.
Just as you were about to say something,the Beelzebub who was clutching your breasts by your head covered your mouth with his own. To your astonishment,the other Beelzebubs around you had looks on their faces that said 'he got there first'.
A voice between a scream and a moan escaped from your mouth,but the three Beelzebubs were unperturbed.
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Slide-slide-
The Beelzebub who has just ejaculated enough to fill you to the brim inside,began rubbing his cock against the sensitive flesh between your swollen legs.
It felt like someone was suckinf you underneath with wet lips,and as you strained your toes and lower stomach,the Beelzebub from below giggled.
Beelzebub: It's puffing down there,now that you're aroused.
Mc: (Don't...put it into words,you idiot!)
But your words were barred by the mouth of the Beelzebub by your head and you could only make a muffled sound.
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He forced two fingers into the narrowed back hole and held it open. He stuck his tongue inside the gaping hole and sucked.
Mc: !!!
You wanted to shout no,but you couldn't.
Despite the fact that you had a man kissing you like he was eating you,all you could do was moan,moan,moan ugly sounds with each movement of the hot tongue probing your backside.
And even the Beelzebub who was holding your arm,sucked on your nipple and led you to carres his towering cock with your free hand.
Your mind turned white. You,Beelzebub,Beelzebub below you and the Beelzebub next to you,felt so good that you thought you were out of your mind.
Just as you felt pent-up cries and moans from the three males grow louder and louder,another shadow fell over your head.
He licked relentlessy at the nape of your wet neck,rubbing your one remaining breast as he squezzed it fiercely in his large hand.
Before you knew it,your legs were spread wide apart,each occupied by a new Beelzebub,sucking and licking your toes with glee.
Mc: (There are...more Beelzebubs!!!)
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Beelzebub wasn't the only one grown in number.
Soon the preceding visitors who were enjoying 'breaks' at the shelter had become spectators watching you and Beelzebub.
A surreal sexual intercourse between superstars- the descendant of Solomon and the hottest king in Hell. It was an event unlike any other in Hell.
The gazes of those devils over Beelzebub's shoulder and head were filled with dark jealousy,pure envy and sparkling intrest.
Just then,Beelzebub sucking on your lwft breast came in your hand.
As you barely looked away from the kiss that still wasn't over,there was another Beelzebub,rhis time clutching your hair and fondling his cock.
Mc: Were there eight?...no,nine?...
Before you knew it,you were surrounded by more Beelzebubs that you could count,being sucked,pounded on and rubbed on.
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nullified-space · 10 days
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The over-analysis of Orbo (and the little screen time we have of him)
Welcome to my over analysis of Orbo as a character because I love him dearly, I need to see more of him in season 2, and I’m tired of the evil Orbo trope. This is 7 pages long and reached 2k words yikes. UMM. I don't know how to do introduction so lets jut get right to it:
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When we are first introduced to Orbo he falls from above and onto a pedestal. If the audience doesn’t already realize it from the symbolism of putting someone up on a pedestal- where he is angled ABOVE Scarab, the symbol thats etched into it which related to the wings on the phone they use to talk to the Boss we see later can explain to them that Orbo is in an authoritative position over Scarab. Even before mentioning it we can assume that Orbos his boss.
But before we get into their interaction let’s take a moment to observe Orbos design. It's a very simple and obvious silhouette- a circle with purple shades on his face. Usually in character designs to accentuate specific traits in a character, artists would choose one body shape over the other to express that to the viewer. So Orbo being a LITERAL circle, with no sharp pointed edges should already communicate to the audience that he’s not inherently evil or malicious. And often, circles are associated with unity, security, and divinity. In other words, he’s friend shaped.
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If the artists wanted to paint Orbo to be a villain/ villain-leaning- wouldn’t they try to express that through his design by adding sharper edges? Giving him more striking colors like red, darker purples, or just a darker color palette in general?
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Compared to Scarb who’s all sharp angles and consists of many triangles in his design, even being fully BRIGHT red to showcase that he’s dangerous (a walking red flag if you will)- it just doesn’t make sense for Orbo to be painted as a villain or immoral boss when his design doesn’t match up to that in the slightest.
Anyways. Moving onto the interactions that the two have.
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Earlier when Scarab is waiting to have a meeting with Orbo I do want to note that he’s seen being agitated and fidgeting to himself. In the next scene the room Orbo brings him to is full of calming and colorful lights. It feels less intimidating and more casual. It almost seems like a place you would be meditating in.
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The scene starts with Orbo spinning around Scarab while growing bigger. While he’s doing this he’s listing off the reasons why he was called into a meeting with him in the first place.
“Ignoring our calls, giving yourself missions, pursuing your own monomanias. I tell ya you’re really whiffing that ball lately.”
And yet despite listing off Scarabs transgression he says this all in a lighthearted tone and expression, if anything it’s barely the kind of scold a boss would give to a coworker who keeps going against orders. He still keeps a very lenient attitude that you wouldn’t normally expect a boss to give to a self-serving co worker like Scarab. He says it almost like he’s asking why Scarab is doing all this, giving him the floor to speak on it.
However, Scarab just completely dismisses what Orbo says so he can request for more time. This to which Orbo scoffs in return- being dismissive to Scarabs dismissiveness.
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(analysis has been finished check qrts)
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writeslikeanaria · 9 months
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i’ve seen the devil in every face
ominis gaunt x reader (technically sebastian sallow x reader)
summary: your boyfriend lives with the demons of never being able to see what you look like. that's when he figures out a way to finally be able to look at you; by wearing the face of his best friend.
word count: 5k+
warnings: SMUT, consent is tricky but i'll just stick with dubious, immoral use of the polyjuice potion, angst, confused reader, m!oral, p in v, opportunity for an incredibly angst filled part two
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Potions class seemed to be longer than normal. Having finished your potion earlier than everyone else, your only task now was to finish theory book work, a task that genuinely pained you to complete. Books strewn open, you rested your head against the desk, eyes closed, trying to find will within you to actually dip your quill in the ink that rested next to you.
With your vision gone, you used your imagination to picture the chaos happening around you. A cracking pop sounded off in the room, followed by a stench of rotten fish. Fizzing arose in the room, making your skin prick up from the feeling of electricity. From behind your eyes, you could see a bright white light flash, and a groan from your upset classmate followed suit.
For a moment, you realised that this was reality for your blind boyfriend, Ominis, only able to use his other senses to imagine the world. A brief sadness crept over you, leaving a whimper to come out of your mouth, something that was noticed by your potions partner next to you, Sebastian.
“You alright?” He glanced over at you, cocking an eyebrow, quill hovering in the air.
You opened one eye, adjusting to the bright overhead candle that filled your vision in a flood of white. Sebastian looked down at you, some sort of concern on his face, chewing on the end of his quill. You groaned. “Just peachy…” You paused. “Just thinking.”
Sebastian scoffed. “Anything you want to share with the class?”
Lifting your head slightly, you look across the potion classroom, until your eyes land on the innocent target, blissfully unaware of your stalking eyes. Ominis, busy hunched over a potions book, was reading some words out to his partner, Leander. He seemed frustrated though, eyebrows furrowed deeply, as he kept rubbing his milky white eyes out of pure exhaustion. 
From just what you could witness, you knew how annoyed your boyfriend was getting by the ginger’s antics. You had heard many times about how “utterly useless and incorrigible” Leander was, through Ominis’ midnight rantings. Laying in bed, head on his heaving chest, you listened to his stream of consciousness. You pouted at the sight of his anger.
“Ominis doesn’t look happy today.” 
Rolling his eyes, Sebastian turned back to his book. “When is he ever when he's in potions class? Poor thing has to deal with Leander for two hours twice a week, I’m surprised he hasn’t ripped all his hair out of head. Pure misery, that’s him.” Sebastian bit his lip, a thought entering his head. “And it doesn’t help that he’s been unusually stroppy the last couple of days.”
You peered at Sebastian, narrowing your eyes, confused. You had barely had time to see your boyfriend in the past couple of days, so you hadn’t noticed any foul behaviour. “What do you me–”
Unfortunately, your question remained unanswered, as the shrill voice of Professor Sharp rang off across the classroom, scolding none other than Garreth Weasley. His face was so close to Garreth’s that they were almost touching. “How dare you not follow my instructions? Detention all next week. Now, clean this up and complete your actual task for homework.”
You snickered, burying your head in your arms, unable to hide away the humour in the situation. Making eye contact with the boy in trouble, he shrugged his shoulders at you. Although Professor Sharp had just told him to discard his potion, you watched as Garreth blatantly discarded those instructions, instead pouring the potion he was working on into a separate flask, before collecting his books back up. 
The bell rang, signalling the end of class, but you stayed rooted to your seat as you watched Garreth with intrigue, suddenly fascinated with what he was up to. As everyone filed out of class, you opted to corner your ginger friend, closing in on his defeated stature. His face was sallow, but he still kept a mischievous glint in his eyes. 
Backing away your bag, you vaguely registered Sebastian trying to talk to you, but you brushed him off, flaying your hand in the air, dismissively. As much as you loved your best friend, you currently didn’t have time for his questions.
Sliding on over to Garreth’s station, you pick up one of his scrawled notebooks, cheekily. “A little birdie told me you got told off again.”
Garreth jumped slightly at your appearance. “Well, then someone should do something about that gossip of a bird.” He lunged towards the book you were holding. “And we give that back!”
There was no point keeping it anyway, unable to read what covered the pages anyway. Garreth’s handwriting was like chicken scratch. Handing him back his book, you laughed at him, before eyeing the suspicious potion peeking out of his satchel bag. “What’s that?”
“Nothing interesting.” Garreth closed the lid on his bag, keeping the mystery out of sight. You frowned, not usually having to deal with Garreth’s secrecy. Normally, he lets you into his devious plans. 
Sighing, you began slowly walking away. “Oh, but it would be such a shame if Professor Sharp found out that you kept some of the potion he told you to discard–”
“Alright!” Garreth stopped you. “It really isn’t anything interesting, I promise, but if you’re still curious, meet me in the abandoned potions classroom on the second floor at midnight. Don’t be late.”
You grinned. You weren’t planning on it.
•┈୨♡୧┈•
When midnight finally came, you were more than excited for your nighttime escape. Cladded in a woollen jumper and tough shoes, you quietly crept down the staircases into the darkness of your common room. As you were about to slink through the door, a voice stopped you in your tracks, calling your name.
“Is that you?”
You immediately recognised the confused tone in your boyfriend’s voice, and a soft chuckle slipped from your mouth. Embarrassed, you covered your reddening face. “Hello darling, I didn’t see you sitting in the dark.”
Ominis pouted. “I didn’t realise a lamp wasn’t on. I was just doing some reading. Have you come to join me?”
“I would love to, truly, but I had other plans for tonight.” You bit your lip in thought. “Why aren’t you in bed?”
A loud groan escaped from Ominis, as he landed his heavy head in his lap. “Can’t sleep, too busy… thinking.”
You moved towards your troubled boyfriend, placing your hand around his. “A penny for your thoughts? I’ve noticed you’ve been… antsy recently, and I can’t help but feel like I'm doing anything for you.” You placed a gentle kiss on his temple. “What’s going on?”
Ominis cringed. “I don’t know how to speak about this; it’s too difficult to even word. And I don’t want to think you did anything wrong–”
“Wait, what?”
“–You’ve been nothing but amazing with everything. You’ve been doting, and kind, and thoughtful, and the time I spend with you, just you, is more cherishable than any worldly possession.”
“Then what’s wrong?” You pressed.
“I–” Ominis sighed. “Everytime we are intimate, I get sad.”
That definitely wasn’t what you were expecting Ominis to say. You retracted your hands for him, unsure if it was out of shock or mild disgust towards what he had said. Never in a million years had you expected your boyfriend, your loving, passionate boyfriend, to admit that love making with you had a melancholic effect on his psyche. Your face contorted with defiance, but you didn’t know how to fight this battle.
You pursed your lips. “Do I disgust you?”
In a flash of seconds, you could see every stage of grief flash over Ominis’ milky eyes, as he reached back towards your hands with comfort. You always relished in the warmth he would give you. 
“That’s not what I meant at all.” Ominis started. “I just meant that I feel as though my loss of sight is hindering my experience. Obviously, it’s not, but I can’t help but feel like I’m missing out on seeing you, my beauty, my radiance, the light of my life. Sometimes I wonder how I can feel whole if I can’t even see my other half. Every single time I hear someone compliment your appearance, I just wish I could see you. Everytime you’re under me, I just wish I could see you. Do you understand?”
You didn’t know if you did, but you nodded carefully, stroking small circles on the backs of Ominis’ mole-covered hands, in an attempt to find comfort for him. What you did understand was how difficult this must’ve been to tell you, and you couldn’t be happier that he was actually communicating with you. Leaning into him, you smiled. “Would you like to talk more about this in the morning?”
Ominis smiled. “Sure.”
“Would you like to accompany me to the abandoned potions classroom on the second floor?”
Ominis screwed his face up in confusion. “Why on earth would you want to go to that musty place at this time of night?”
You giggled. “Garreth seems to be working on a secret potion, and I’m curious to see what he’s up to.”
It didn’t take long to convince your stubborn boyfriend, as in a matter of minutes, you were slinking hand in hand, under a disillusionment spell, across the deserted halls of Hogwarts at night. It was a peaceful adventure, one that really helped calm you both down after the intensity of your previous conversation.
Unfortunately, the words Ominis had spoken still lingered in your mind like cigarette smoke. You couldn’t help but ponder what he had said, as if you were the problem. You knew that Ominis would never place blame on you, but you wish you had noticed sooner.
Every time you crawled into bed together, a mess of teeth and tongue, flesh and slick, you should’ve noticed the abundance of tension seeping out of his muscles, or the way he would hold back from touching you, from being close to you. There were so many signs that you were embarrassed that you hadn’t caught on to any of them. Were you a bad person?
Those thoughts were soon pushed out of your conscious mind when you arrived at your discreet destination. Creeping open the door, you were welcomed by the most vile stench you had every smell, bile rising in your throat as you coughed violently.
“What the hell are you making in here?” You spluttered, unable to think properly from the fumes. Luckily you had your boyfriend holding you arms, stopping you from falling over.
Garreth’s lifted his head up as he noticed you walk in, a giant grin stretched across his cheeks. “Ah, you finally came, and you brought a guest. The more the merrier, they say.” He welcomed you in, clapping his hands against your back. “You’re just in time for the main event.”
You could still hardly breathe from the vileness secreting into your sinuses. “Please make this worth it. I cannot begin to describe how putrid this room smells. I wouldn’t be surprised if I end up in the hospital room because of this.”
“You’ve got it easy.” Garreth laughed. “I have to drink this.” With fascination plastered on your face, you watched as the ginger placed the last ingredient into a small volume of the potion, and swirled it around his flask. You watched as the liquid changed colours very slightly.
Finally, Ominous asked the million dollar question. “What actually is that?”
With one gulp, Garreth drank the entire flask, pouring it down his throat with ease, but reacting to the taste like hot lava. After every last drop was swallowed, he finally gave an answer to the question. “Polyjuice potion. Tastes disgusting, but the results are fascinating. That last ingredient I added in? Those were human hairs, belonging to Professor Sharp. In just a few moments you’ll see what I mean by fascinating results, because the polyjuice potions changes your appearance to make you look like someone else.”
He wasn’t lying. Within short moments, Garreth had grown several inches, became thinner, more wrinklier, with his usual flaming locks transforming into dark brown hair. It was exhilarating to watch your best friend become a whole different person.
You spoke first. “Garreth?”
Your friend rubbed his eyes, no longer focussing on you two. Instead, he squinted in frustration. “Ugh, Professor Sharp’s eyesight sucks; It’s so blurry. This man cannot see shit.”
Laughing at those comments, you dismissed them right away, but your boyfriend seemed intrigued by what Garreth was saying, still rubbing his eyes out of annoyance. “What do you mean? Are you trying to tell me that you’ve adopted the same eyesight as Sharp?”
“Yeah, and it’s awful.” Garreth laughed. Walking over to a deserted closet in the classroom, Garreth grabbed out a bunch of clothes that bore a striking resemblance to the ones that Professor Sharp would normally wear, but you took no interest in Garreth’s immature plans. You believed fully that Garreth’s next plans would include terrorising a bunch of year two’s who were still awake at this time of night. What interested you the most was the quizzical look on Ominis’ face.
“What are you thinking?” 
Ominous grunted. “Be quiet, I have a plan.”
For the next few minutes, you made careless conversation with your friend, who explained to you the extent of his plan for the next hour, which included, but was not limited to, sneaking into the teacher’s quarters, stealing all their sweets, and trying his luck at the restricted section. With adrenaline, Garreth’s bumbling attitude had him out the door within minutes, leaving you and Ominis alone in the classroom. Alone with the remnants of the polyjuice potion.
Your boyfriend struck first, heading towards the still full potion. You tried to stop him, but with no luck. “Ominis, what do you think you’re doing?”
“What do you think I’m doing? I found a solution to our problems. One mouthful of that disgusting potion and I’ll be able to see your beautiful face, in all your glory. I have no care to worry about the temporary, but I’ll be able to finally see my shining star, my angel. You don’t realise how hard it is to go about my life, wishing I could see your eyes, and your smile, and your hair, and your beautiful lips. I need to do this.”
“And then what?” You questioned his frantic plan. “We share intimacy? You may be sharing intimacy with me, but I’ll have to stare at the face of someone who isn’t mine. I’ll have to live with the guilt of knowing another man who isn’t you.”
“But it is me!” Ominis raised his voice at you. “I am me, emotionally, spiritually, consciously. All you will have to know is the physicalities of another man.” His voice settled, calming down a bit. “I understand your point of you, and all I have to counter it is, for me? I know I cannot force you, but I know I can plead with you, even if you shut me down before I can even present my case.”
You bit your lip in anguish. “How sure are you? I need to know you are completely comfortable with this. This would be the strangest thing we’ve ever shared between us, and I need to know that this is exactly what you want.”
“I want this.” Ominis sighed, cupping your face with his hands. “Finally, I want to know you with all my senses.” He placed a kiss against your lips. “I need to know what love at first sight feels like to a man.”
You returned the kiss with fervour. “I will. I will for you. I love you Ominis.” Resting your head on his shoulder, another question popped into your mind.”
“Ominis.” He hummed in response. “Who are you going to choose to, you know, turn into?”
“Don’t worry. I have someone in mind.”
•┈୨♡୧┈•
Sebastian looked like he was about to doze off at the breakfast table, eye bags dark, head lost between the pages of some tatted book that he probably found illegally in the library. His brown locks were a mess atop his head and he had taken no notice of you and Ominis standing in the entrance of the hall, watching him from a distance.
“Sebastian.” You asked incredulously. “Really?”
Ominis scoffed, brushing you off. “He’s the only choice really. He’s the only person I trust you to know physically, since he is my best friend. I’ve also heard that he’s quite handsome, so I don’t know why you’re objecting.”
“I- It’s Sebastian! He would never agree to that.”
“He wouldn’t have to know.” Ominis smirked. “Now be a good girl and help me distract him so we can get a few hairs off of the top of his head, okay?”
And that’s how you found yourself sitting abnormally close to Sebastian, basically breathing down his neck, trying to get him to lean down just a bit more, but it proved to be a more difficult task than you initially thought.
“No, I don’t see the runes at the bottom of the page.” Sebastian squinted once more at the page in front of him, but refused to move his head downwards like you needed him to. You were about to give up when an idea struck, noticing a strange fold in the page. Just as Sebastian moved the book slightly, you pointed downwards.
“Did something just fall out of the book?”
Sebastian ducked immediately. “Where?” His voice went gruff as he finally looked closely at the bottom of the book, giving Ominis an ample opportunity to gently pluck a few hairs off of the top of Sebastian’s head, without the poor boy even noticing. When Ominis gave a nod, you knew that he had gotten what he needed.
You tutted. “Nevermind, it’s just a fold in the page.” You rested your head in your hand and sighed dramatically. “I thought I saw something.”
“It’s alright.” Sebastian muttered. “It’s no use anyway. I’m so tired, I just want to go to bed right now.”
“Early night?” You joked, but then saw Ominis shaking his head at you. Right, you guys would need the dorm room tonight, for activities. “You could– uh, sleep in the undercroft! Surely sleeping in a room without Ominis’ incessant snoring is exactly what you need tonight.
“What I need is a beater’s club to my head,” Sebastian smirked. “But a night alone sounds great as well.”
•┈୨♡୧┈•
It was almost time. Saying goodbye to Sebastian and sending him on his way was easy enough. With enough encouragement, he was gone before the sun had even fallen asleep beneath the hills, leaving the entire dormitory to you and your boyfriend, whose eyes had not stopped glinting with mischief all day.
The entire day had been a mixture of teasing touches, and whispers of dirty promises. You could still feel the feeling of Ominis’ hands creeping up your skirt in class, tracing your delicate thighs with the traction of a feather. The hot breath of his words still melted against your ears like an ice cold glass of water, and you were so thirsty.
But first, Ominis had to drink the potion.
“I really hope it’s not as awful as Garreth said it was.” You said, eying the murky brown liquid. “But by the smell of the classroom last night, I don’t think it’s going to taste like liquid gold either. Promise you’ll drink some water afterwards?”
Ominis sniffed the flask suspiciously. “It may taste, and smell, differently after adding the hairs, but I doubt so, unfortunately. I wonder if my taste buds will even survive this torture.”
“Well, for my sake,” You pointed downwards, towards your woman region,“and for my girl’s sake, I hope your taste buds come out the other side of this stronger than ever.”
The innuendo was not lost on your boyfriend, who now eagerly added the final remaining ingredient to the flask. Like last time, the colour faded slightly, into more of a mellow mud colour. Bringing the potion up to his nose, Ominous took a sniff, but didn’t recoil.
“Well?”
Ominis hummed. “Isn’t as bad as I expected. Almost woodsy. Like tree bark, or forest leaves. Doesn’t carry the same putridness as the one from last night. I’d even say this one is somewhat pleasant.” He dipped his finger in the potion. “It feels warm. Like a cup of tea. It’s odd.”
You egged him on. “Are you gonna drink it?”
“Patience.” Ominis laughed, but he followed through with your queries, throwing his head back and swallowing the potion in one. 
The effects started showing immediately. The white blouse that Ominis was wearing became too small for his torso, looking like it was about to burst at the seams, as his muscles filled out, and his shoulders broadened like the parting of a sea. Shrinking only half an inch, he now sat at Sebastian’s height, now growing into those features. Gone were those chiselled cheeks, replaced with the smattering of freckles across his face. Hair turned from gold to bronze, and eyes from the ocean to the earth.
“How do I look?” Sebastian– Ominis asked, voice now replaced with the slightly Scottish tenor of his best mate’s, turning towards you.
It was all so confusing. There stood your best friend, but with the mannerisms and posture of your boyfriends. Your body was conflicted too, as you couldn’t help but look at the physicality of your best friend in a new light.
Ominis seemed to be going through his own internal conflict. When he first took the potion he really had no idea if he was going to notice any change with his sight, but when it became bright, too bright, he knew that his hypothesis had been true. It was strange at first, adjusting to a whole new sense. His brain was confused, angry almost, trying to force him back down into a headache, but he persisted.
The world seemed strange. Finally, he knew what it meant to see colour, to see light, and to see beauty. He thought the bed was beautiful. He thought the floor was beautiful. He thought the walls around him were beautiful, but most importantly, the woman in front of him was more than beautiful.
Like an iridescent angel fallen from the heavens above, she was perfect to him. Beautiful didn’t even cover the beginning of what he thought about his girlfriend. Unable to articulate verbally, he stood motionless, as the angel before him tried to capture his attention away from his admiration. 
“Ominis, are you okay? Did it work?” You asked cautiously, worried about what emotions he could possibly be feeling if the answer was no, but the way he was actually facing you, actually looking at you, you were sure that you knew the answer.
Ominis took a breath. “I understand what beautiful is.” He took one step towards you, reaching outwards, but your body didn’t naturally move towards him, still hesitant about yearning for Sebastian’s face and Sebastian’s physique. It wasn’t quite right.
It didn’t feel quite right as his lips touched yours, moving naturally, but feeling like a stranger. You melted like you normally did, but it was with effort, still getting used to the scent of Sebastian wafting into your veins. Reciprocating Ominis’ love filled kiss was more difficult than you would’ve ever thought. You hated how you felt.
“I need you.” Ominis muttered, his voice silky like Sebastian’s. “I need to see what you look like when you’re pleased. I need to know what pleasure looks like dressed on you. I need to see you contort yourself like a good girl. I need you.” 
How could you deny such pleads? Nodding along to the words he spoke, you started on the buttons of your blouse, but were soon swatted from your task, your hands quickly replaced by Sebas– Ominis’ hand. It didn’t feel right watching Sebastian undress you, so you closed your eyes, resting against the unusually broad chest in front of you. 
If Ominis noticed your internal conflict, he didn’t mention it, having the time of his life running his hands down the curves of your soft body, melting at the images he now didn’t have to visualise himself. Reaching down, he placed open mouthed kisses against your throat, eliciting moans from your throat. 
He was marking you, you knew that. The mouth of your best friend was claiming you as a lover, and you enjoyed it, finding pleasure in the heat of the moment, pooling in your panties shamefully. Something about what Ominis was capable of made you fall from your grace and become nothing but a dog in heat. Wrapping your arms around his frame, you pulled him in closer, under you could hear his voice against the shell of your ear. “Get on your knees.”
You knew it was your Ominis, but you hesitated at Sebastian's voice. Obeying anyway, suck downwards, opening up for what was expected. Except, it wasn’t the familiar cock of your boyfriend. It was different from usual, slightly thicker, shorter, with unfamiliar veins running up the length. 
“Suck it.” Ominis’ domineering personality crept out, and you obeyed. It was odd at first, but you got used to this new weight. At first, you placed a gentle kiss at the tip of his cock, watching the precum leak out in generous blobs. Your tongue darted out, lapping greedily at what you were given. Even the taste was different, slightly saltier, slightly muskier. Slicking up the entirety of his cock, you coated it generously, before opening your mouth wider to take more.
With enthusiasm, you took him all, pumping what was remaining with your left hand, and leaving your right hand to rest against his thigh, that twitched with every harsh sucked. His skin, covered in goosebumps, was on fire, the electricity of the moment throbbing in his cock. Ominis wasn’t going to last long, and you knew it.
Still, you threw your head forward, swallowing the tip, feeling him stutter with your movements. Hands threaded in your hair, tugging on your roots, getting a good grip on your head. Ominis had obviously had enough of your teasing, and decided to use you as he needed. It wasn’t long before until you felt his breathing change and his voice falter.
“I’m gonna–”
Cum. It splurted down your throats, in thick ropes you had never experienced before. It was all too much as you lurched away from the cock, more cum landing across your cheeks and necks. Looking up through glazed eyes and thick eyelashes, you watched Sebastian above you, peering down at you curious.
Nimble fingers stroked your face, moving around the sticky liquid, making even more of a mess as his face lit up in delight. You hated the way your body clenched at the thought of Sebastian taking you, needing that spent cock inside of you as soon as possible. You whimpered.
“Please…”
“Please what?” Ominis asked, tugging on his spent cock, slowly hardening again in the palm of his hand. You ducked your head embarrassed.
“Please fuck me.”
You were surprised he didn’t make you beg, as he lifted you up with an ease he’d never experience. Manhandling you onto the nearest bed, he pressed your chest down on the mattress, and flipped up your skirt. You didn’t even have any time to voice your confusion before the thick cock slid into your slick folds, forcing a moan out of you immediately.
Reaching for the blankets to have something, anything, to ground yourself with, you took the hammering like a champion. The immediate pace was frenzied, with no warming up on your part at all. You felt more alive than ever, alert as his deft hands curled around your wrists, holding them together as leverage to get a better angle.
You were drooling on the blankets. The angle was perfectly hitting your g-spot with every rough thrust, the material of the duvet rubbing against your swollen, patient clit, in desperate need of some attention. Every nerve on your body was screaming in pleasure and pain, completely conflicted with every emotion that struck your heart. At least you didn’t have to look into the eyes of your best friend.
Finally, Ominis let go of one of your hands, snaking around your front so he could begin his assault on your clit. His voice was gruff in your ear. “I need you to come for me baby.”
You nodded pathetically, eyes rolling back as every thrust inside of you became more agitated than the last. Tears were free falling from your face now. In the midst of your pleasure, you didn’t even notice the door to the dormitories open, until you heard the voice of…
“What?!”
Turning your head, you couldn’t help let a pained sob out of your throat as you laid eyes with another Sebastian, the Sebastian. In an instance, there was no longer a body pressing down on you, letting you sink down onto the ground. You barely registered that sound of an angry spell being cast across the dorm room, followed by the patting of footsteps both across the dorm, towards the door, and towards you.
You knew it was the real Sebastian still left in the room as you felt a blanket cover your half naked form, keeping your modesty. You knew it was the real Sebastian as when you fell into his shoulder, unable to keep in the tears, he hesitated before placing a comforting hand against your bare shoulder. You knew it was the real Sebastian as he asked you repeatedly what was going on.
You knew he saw himself, fucking you like it was a matter of life and death, a reflection of a reality that his brain couldn’t comprehend.
You, on the other hand, had no thoughts left, falling unconscious on the shoulder of your best friend, with your boyfriend having run away in shame. 
“i've seen the devil,
down sunset,
in every place,
in every face.”
–––
ouch angst. owie.
taglist: @slootmagix, @pretendthisusernameisgoodd, @froggyinaspen, @bxrabbito, @1800-madisonnn
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sadist1224 · 2 months
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A little Mafia!Price 18+
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part4 Everyday life
It's a little dirty towards the end!
Mafia!Price is the underground king of this city. Invisible, but alert and intimidating.
Mafia!Price, who takes care of his home, even if his ways are immoral and illegal. He had long ago realized that the road to hell was paved with good intentions, and his city, sinking and rotting from corruption, lies and violence, could only be saved by an iron and merciless grip.
Mafia!Price, who built his empire on the ruins of former mafia gangs.
Mafia!Price, who is covered in blood not to the elbows, but to the top of his head, to bring balance to his house.
Mafia!Price, who, despite all his strength, power and authority, has weaknesses. His named family are his boys, who went through all the bloody hell after him and never complained.
Mafia!Price, who is devoted to all of them, as well as they are to him.
Mafia!Price, who loves his boys, all of them, without exception, in a variety of ways.
Mafia!Price, who didn't even think about expanding his family until fate brought them together with you.
Mafia!Price, who watched with disbelief and curiosity as his Gas and Soap swirled around you, trying to get your attention. Oh, it's been so long since he's seen his boys in love.
Mafia!Price, who was surprised to find out that even a Ghost is attracted to you for some reason.
Mafia!Price, whom even the most influential and proud married women of the city will beg to warm his bed while their husbands work for him and for him, but ironically, the only woman he wants to see in his bed, between his boys, under them and on them is an ordinary barmaid who is not afraid to say everything she thinks to a man in person, even if he is the head of one of the most influential gangs in the city.
Mafia!Price, who has a private office with a gorgeous sturdy oak desk. And you will obviously find yourself in this room more than once. And for more than one reason.
Mafia!Price, who does not like to be distracted from work, especially from paperwork, as his stern, handsome face always says. But he doesn't really mind at all if it's you. Only you can break into his office with impunity without knocking, opening the door almost from your feet to definitely attract his attention.
Mafia!Price, who purposely does not take his head off the papers to annoy you, although in fact all his attention is focused on you, your disgruntled face and disheveled appearance.
Mafia!Price, who likes the way the edges of your shirt are slightly peeking out from under your belt, and your bangs are uneven, but so beautiful.
And while you're telling him in an angry manner that one of his small fry was seen again in the neutral zone extorting money from civilians!..
Mafia!Price, in his thoughts, is already pinning you to the table, wrapping his big hands around your hips, imagining what kind of underwear you're wearing today and how he will tear it off with his hands or teeth. He would then definitely buy you a new black lace, with thin ribbons wrapping around your waist and hips, even better if you chose it together.
Mafia!Price, who has already imagined a dozen ways to occupy your mouth instead of this useless conversation. He can shut you up with a rough kiss, pulling your hair back, opening your neck for love bites and hickeys. Or vice versa, to lure you with gentle kisses along the jaw, pressing you by the waist so close to his body that you feel warm and calm.
Mafia!Price, who gets goosebumps from your confused face and the sight of reddened lips.
Mafia!Price, who is thinking about how long it will take Gaz, Sope and Ghost to get to his office, and how much he will have time to do with you while they are walking.
Mafia!Price you're still here, still telling him off for not fulfilling the contract. And he doesn't like the way you present it. He's a man of his word, it's part of his reputation.
He just will never tell you that your "unexpected" appearances dilute his routine, and how much he likes it.
Mafia!Price, who pretends to sigh wearily and nervously, breaking out of his thoughts to give up on you and, reluctantly, drive you away from here. Oh no, you don't have to know how much you influence him.
Hell, he doesn't even know whether to nail these idiots for not following orders or throw in a bonus for another meeting with you. But he will have to deal with it if he wants his fantasies to come true.
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sashi-ya · 2 months
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ishida ryuuken x f! reader tw: suggestive language, not entirely nsfw. reader is of course a grown up. wc: 589 masterlist 🌱
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OLDER, COLDER. “It doesn’t matter how old you become; you will never learn Uryu. You are a fool, son”. “Same goes to you, Ryuuken!”
You listen to them argue, as probably every time you’ve seen them together. Your best friend and his father… his absolutely attractive, troubled, and cold as snow father.
Uryu lays, once again, in a bed of his own hospital. He has gone too far and ended up hurt one more time. And yet again, despite the years and being an adult now, gets treated by his father, Ryuuken Ishida.
You, waiting right by the entrance, hope for Uryu to calm down. You don’t want him to feel embarrassed that you’ve witnessed -in words of Ryuuken- one of his “tantrums”.
However, it isn’t for you to decide.
“Come on in, (Name). Perhaps your presence will make this kid calm down” Ryuuken says, knowing too well you were there. He can sense your spiritual pressure, after all he is still a Quincy.
Hearing your name being called by him makes your insides shiver. Yet, how immoral it feels… your best friend’s father, a widower… a man you’ve known since you were a little girl.
And a man you desire, a man you lust for.
“Ah… yes. Hi. Ishida-kun, are you ok?” you ask, seeing your friend bedridden but well enough to be shouting at his father. Probably, it was just a minor injury made in battle, but still needed to be taken care of. That, or maybe Ryuuken’s only way of showing him affection is by curing his wounds.
“I’ll leave you two alone, I got work to do” Ryuuken says, placing his heavy hand on your shoulder. He squeezes just enough to -at least in your mind- assert dominance over you too.
You can barely breathe. But you nod. Trying to focus on your friend, trying to ignore that man’s crushing presence invisible squeezing your neck.
Soon, you relax. And Uryu does too. It doesn’t take much for you two to engage in pure nonsense and some hours of “tik tok” watching. The time, in fact, escapes your track and soon the sun sets on a cold winter day of Karakura town.
By the time you realize it’s too late even for a calm little city like yours, Uryu has finally fallen asleep peacefully and soundly. He needed it, rest is mandatory to get better.
As the soft cycle of breathing of your best friend fills the room, you walk slowly towards the big window ahead. It doesn’t really surprise you to see heavy snowflakes falling, but it does seeing the state of the road.
“Oh… fuck” you murmur, soft almost inaudibly not to wake up Uryu. You know exactly this will mean no coming home tonight; by the time you’ve walked two blocks you would be buried under a white coat of ice.
“I thought you’d left earlier. A snowstorm is coming tonight” a deep, still soft voice whispers behind you. His hand lands on your waist, pulling you slightly against him.
“I wasn’t aware…” you sigh, turning around to see a white coat as white as his hair. You bite your lip, with your belly pressing against his… his hand squeezing you tightly….
A dimmed white light coming from the hall outside filters and shines against his glasses, but his body covers almost it all. You are left in the dark, right in front of him and next to his son’s bed.
“Come to my office, doll. We won’t be able to go back home tonight” “Yes, Ryuuken-sama…”
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ay0nha · 8 months
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Buggy searching out reader after a fight and showing up to her doorstep like a puppy looking for help
feel free to make it angsty or fluffy (or smutty lol)...reader could be an ex-marine and hates pirates so it's not clear whether or not they like each other (spoiler they do)
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PAIRING: OPLA!Buggy x f!reader
WORD COUNT: 2.3K
WARNINGS: ANGST, canon-typical things, cursing, smoking, descriptions of injuries/fucked up shit Buggy did, mutual pining, brief mention of reader being a former marine, vague description of smuggler!reader, soft touches, enemies ish to lovers, etc.
A/N: This was fun lol. It's a little weird and experimental (?) for me? So, she got a little messy as I was getting excited to just Get This Out, so it didn't sit in my drafts. I want more buggy angst lol. Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in any OPLA things or along the lines. Enjoy.
!!!COMMENTS ENCOURAGED!!!
(tags: @gingernut1314)
There were reasons habits quickly morphed into vices, something immoral and wicked. Yet, you were lethal, the definition of torment. Your silhouette alone was enough to send Buggy spiraling. 
Each step toward you felt unreliable and fuzzy, making Buggy question if he reattached his limbs correctly. His gut felt twisted with a foreign feeling that he wanted to trap away. He wondered if he buried the feeling deep enough if it would turn to treasure or become forgotten rot. 
“Buggy.” Your voice even irritated him. Yet, he found relief in finding you alone. “Third time this month. Careful…I’m starting to get a big head.”
“That sounds like a medical problem…” He mumbled with little enthusiasm and a half-hearted smirk, “...should probably get seen for that.”
“Admitting you care, eh?” You teased. You were preoccupied, cigarette dangling from your lip and bobbing with every word. “What can I help you with?”
The receipts tended to be formidable, but you couldn't help but feel your concentration falter when you were met with uncharacteristic silence.  Typically, you were shy of whiplash from an unwarranted insult or backhanded compliment. However, once your eyes landed on Buggy, you only saw deep anger veiling desperation. 
 “How serious is it?” Your pen was settled beside the book, whatever records you were once concerned with dismissed.  Buggy looked awful—his posture gave away his exhaustion and discomfort.
“What? Can’t we skip the part where I say ‘the other guy looks worse’?” His busted lip ticked with dry humor. There were rumors he was in trouble, but that paled compared to the truth you knew about Buggy. 
“Depends.” You frowned. “That other guy isn’t stopping by, is he?” If it were true, you’d have to lay low, something you never had time for. “This is why I don’t like your kind.”
“My kind?” Buggy continued unamused. You weren’t more than a wolf in sheep’s clothing to him. You were a smuggler. Plain and simple. It was impossible for something to stay hidden from you for long.  “You’re not far off, sweetheart.”
His terms of endearment never held affection, but he seemed to soften this time for some reason—almost pleading between the lines. You held a trained expression, taking a moment of consideration. 
Your typical jobs with him were small. Typically, they consisted of information that he could coax out of you for trinkets. He brought the world to you. Other times, you moved things through the shadows to an even darker location. 
This was different, you decided. 
Stalking toward the clown, you saw how the pain mapped on his body.  “You look awful.” 
The jester’s bow was fueled by pained sarcasm. Although his abilities helped, Buggy's flesh was still pliable. His jaw was a deep-set purple, contrasting the faded red of his cracked lips. It was hard to distinguish what was paint and what was blood. His eyes were bloodshot with broken blood vessels, and there were gashes littering every place imaginable. 
You were surprised he was still standing. You noted how his breath became labored, as if holding onto what he could before he collapsed entirely. But looking between his eyes, you saw the struggle he had deciding what was worth his final breath: business or pleasure. 
At the atrium of the town, your home went unnoticed. The average eye missed it, but those who could look past the unassuming home knew what lay behind the walls. You were particular with your arrangements, always done tightly and if challenged dangerously. 
Buggy learned the hard way of earning your loose alliance. The scar you left behind cinched on his side, and sometimes, if he found you lingering in his mind, he swore he felt it ache. Yet, just being in your presence seemed to be the closest thing to a remedy. 
“You can’t just show up like this.” Your scolding was shallow, there only as a buffer. You distanced yourself from the pirate despite the intimacy you provided. 
The handful of candles in the room glowed yellow, highlighting the dark corners that threatened to swallow everything whole. Your fingers trailed various cabinets, pulling out necessities: make-shift gauze, old booze, and something loosely resembling thread. 
“Then, don’t leave a key under your mat.”  Buggy hadn’t bothered with the front door, stumbling through a window once locked. The so-called key was that he knew how to dance around your traps, dragging in an air of death.  
“Hilarious.”
“Gimme a minute...” He raised his uncovered hand.“... I’ll come up with something better.”
The irony hadn’t set in yet, but whoever had hurt him made it personal. Buggy’s middle fingers were gone, not detached, but entirely ripped off.  
“Oh—” You bubbled with laughter lightly, “—that must’ve hurt.”
“Well, aren’t you a twisted one?” Buggy’s tone was flat, but his eyes tracked you. He silently begged you to put him out of his misery. 
“What’s twisted is you, Buggy.” The decision had already been made to help him, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t draw it out.  “You come here asking for my mercy and expect it for free…” 
Buggy’s throat went dry, his tongue barely able to wet his own lips without tasting blood. He leaned through your threshold, head hung, leaving a trail of blood with every uncomfortable shift. His breath was heavy, wheezing with effort to remain upright.  
There was no use in prayers. The gore set the air with dust that could never settle; a blood-warm heat had set into your marrow, never to be forgotten; Buggy had been dragged to your doorstep like a cat bringing in fowl. 
Buggy spoke low as if the neighbors would hear. He hadn’t even wanted to hear himself, knowing his desperation.  “...can’t you play favorites for once?”
“That’s a trick question.” Your facade had slipped. Your response was a second too quick, letting warmth trickle throughout his chest.
Buggy’s ears rang at the admission. Your words filled the room and stuck like honey.
You were always thinking. You were intentional; everything was thought out, and if it wasn’t, you were still level-headed. It wasn’t hard to recognize his behavior patterns; he knew what he was doing. Finally, though, everything became a second thought as you reached him with intent, tilting his chin to expose his neck.
“Easy, puppet.” Buggy caught your wrist. The tight hold was a warning moments away from a fracture. “Pity isn’t your color.”
Buggy fed off cruelty that incited fear. It was foolish to think he could do the same to you. 
“How naive of you to think this is what pity looks like.” Your voice was soft and steady, pent-up venom behind every word. “Before me is a shell of a man playing pirate—” 
You paused to regain your wrist. Regret flashed over Buggy’s features, but he held onto every one of your words. His humor was his defense, and beyond that, he was pliable in your hands. There was little room for recovery. 
“—don’t fault me for something you let get out of hand.” You finished. 
Fear clawed its way up Buggy’s throat, determined to make itself known. It fought with another emotion he was too proud to name. He wasn't unfamiliar with loss. But this.  The feeling was wild. Sentimental.
The small candles’ fire illuminated the room only so much, hiding the loneliness of the small space. Very little signs of life filled the room, but your supplies dominated the counters. It was a tick you picked up from the Marines that you couldn’t shake. On nights when sleep was hard to find, you would organize and filter through everything in preparation for nothing. 
It seemed wrong to encourage the relief you felt, finally putting what you had to use. But its familiarity was oddly cathartic. So, with clean hands, you began. 
“Lean forward—” You instructed. The chill in your tone softened as Buggy struggled. “—move slowly. Slowly.”
You’d already discarded his hat; scorched by the battle, it had lost most of its form. You moved slowly, calculated with every experimental touch. The years of back and forth and treachery never lead you to believe Buggy would be sitting at your mercy. 
He grunted as you removed his jacket. It was tattered and drenched with rainwater. The leather of the chair protested against being ruined. Each layer removed revealed every minute it took for him to arrive. 
“Were you shot? Show me where it hurts. ” You prompted bluntly. The training was still ingrained; your mind filtered through a clinical set of diagnostic questions, your hands moved with practice, and you were returned. “Dizzy? Light-headed? Anything like that?”
His skin pricked. Your touch tickled him, but he leaned into it fully. Buggy was used to touch hurting or leading to something that hurt. He put far too much faith in you, unlike the others. He humanized you. It would be a mistake if you did the same.
“No, no,” Buggy shook his head, the action unsteady. “My ribs—” He coughed with discomfort when you pressed against his side. “Fuck—”
Your hands were steady as you worked. The gauze was taut in the right places, and Buggy’s body finally relaxed. He received a good beating, but nothing bed rest would fix. While you tided, you rambled on about the possibility of a fever, infections, and whatever else came out of your mouth to ignore the feeling of his severe gaze. 
“You’ve changed,” Buggy muttered sharply. He took in your entirety. You held yourself well; you’d matured into your confidence unrestrained. Without him, you soared.  
“And you’ve fallen.” Your mouth fidgeted with a frown. Your head remained leveled with his, bandages secured at his temples. 
Buggy’s bloodshot eyes darted between your own. He wanted to tell you that you were the brevity of his curse, his burden. His mind was always riddled with reflections, constantly ruminating about possibilities that could bring so-called success. You quieted it and saw him for what he was good and evil. He gave all of himself to you. 
“Oh yeah?” He encouraged. 
You only noticed now the position you were standing in, not entirely between his legs, but knees brushing with every motion. Intentional or not, Buggy took advantage, bruised knuckles, finding a place just shy of your pant’s fabric. 
“I got you something.” He whispered. Buggy knew you well enough that the seed that only he could nourish had been planted. It was only moments before you’d cave. “Check my pocket; the left one.”
A strange feeling surfaced, pulling away, but you were enticed. Buggy learned your tastes, knowing you placed value on rarities. There was no rhyme or reason behind it, possibly besides the fact that each trinket was tangible evidence that you were on his mind. Therefore, there was no stop to the allure. You explored his discarded jacket, eagerness fueling your search. 
“Jesus, Buggy!” You cursed from the texture alone. Buggy fulfilled his titles, always sporadic with his behavior and anger. The blood was warm and fresh, staining your palm as if making sure it was now shared blood on your hands. 
You flung the nose to the floor, cartilage still firm and skin still stringy with the residue of its owner. The image alone told you everything. The scene was explicit—nothing could be saved from Buggy’s carnage. 
“Oops.” He wheezed an ill-timed laugh. To be seated in the depths of your home, he still sought  out an advantage. “Must be the other pocket.”
“It’s too late for your pranks.” You spat. Your kindness felt thrown back in your face. The faint embarrassment morphed into anger. “Don't you get this is exactly why I—
“I forgot, you don’t like my kind.” Buggy chose malice as his only form of self-preservation. The statement mocked you and your previous life sewing up Marines that Buggy most likely sent you. “How selfish to think everything is about you.” 
Buggy detached his bandaged hand with the little energy he had left, going to the correct pocket. He let his defensiveness stew, already committing to the rash gift he’d brought for you. It was heavy on its return to you. 
Reaching out, your heart dropped to your stomach. The glass was pristine, and the snowglobe’s inner frost moved your heartbeat to your ears. You refused to shake it, nervous your uneasy hands would break something so inherently precious. 
Holding it tightly to your chest, your eyes were blown wide, pouring into Buggy’s. It was clear to you now the state he was in was of a transactional purpose. He offered himself for the trivial object. It spoke of the confusion of feelings that drowned Buggy. Pain became inherent to his life, functioning as a scale of value. 
The greater the risk, the greater the reward. 
“Do you like it?” Buggy’s voice surpassed the thumping in your ears. 
When you were young, you threw things out of your bedroom window to learn how they would break. Many of them did not—the plastic dolls and plush toys landed safely on the grassy yard below—but the wooden toys did break, or at least they came apart.
One day, you found a snow globe. A winter village stood inside, with snow-covered roofs and chimneys shooting up into the domed sky.
This snow globe was the last thing you threw out of your window, not because your mother scolded you, which she did, but because this snow globe smashed so gloriously—an explosion of crystal, water, snow, and glitter, the village utterly destroyed —you thought you wouldn’t be able to replicate such destruction again.
It was bullshit then, and it was bullshit now. Moving and letting go was never in the stars for you. Or the tea leaves. Or in the deep lines of your palm. You were destined for destruction. 
You’d told Buggy this once. Your state of inebriation fostered the interaction, the memory far more fuzzy for you than for him. It was told nonlinearly, but he followed it well as if he were then to witness it himself. He understood its value to you even if he couldn’t fully understand it.  It wasn’t odd or facetious. It was your greatest regret that he became determined to restore.  
“Yes.”
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tackletofset · 7 months
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If I had to choose one word to describe "Dark Heir," it would be 'OTHERWORLDLY.'
[There will be NO SPOILERS in this Review, only vague hints]
“Critiquing the idea of a classic hero and a reclaiming of the queer villain”
These words are written under the blurb of the very ARC. Sadly, most people are still missing the point.
Dark Rise is my true love in the form of a book series. 
As a queer person who grew up sympathizing with villains (who are often queer-coded), this book series undoubtedly serves as a great form of escapism. I feel seen and understood. I found a home here.
Reading Dark Heir was a surreal experience, almost like a sudden storm hitting me all at once. It was like being pulled into a whirlwind. It is everything I could ever wish for!!!
I devoured this book in just TWO DAYS, which is unexpected given my typically SLOW reading pace. It's worth noting that Dark Heir is considerably longer than Dark Rise (with Dark Rise comprising 34 chapters and Dark Heir containing 51). It is also fueled by my eagerness to continue the story after a two-year wait, particularly following that cliffhanger!
Will has always been my favourite character since "Dark Rise," and this sequel only amplifies it. I perceive his struggles with the truth of his identity, as a metaphor for internalized queerphobia. Many queer youth, including myself, have been told that our queerness is evil and abhorrent, leading us to hide and deny our true selves in the pursuit of acceptance from others. Will's yearning for his friends' acceptance, especially from Violet, his best friend.
Many of us would be delighted to see that James has POV chapters in this book! It's great to see his perspective on not only his feelings about Will or Sarcean but also about his family history.
I'm equally excited about introducing the new character, Visander, and I'm thrilled that he can be interpreted as trans. Knowing that CS Pacat identifies as genderqueer/non-binary, I would like to see him writing more trans-coded characters. Visander is a character who fascinates me, as there are times when he can be both lovable and yet totally frustrates me.
Praise Pacat (again), who has been so generous to give us the “Surprise POVs” which made me scream and jump up and down at 2 a.m.
I seriously love the parts where we got to explore more of the Old World. The twists within them are both surprising and, in a way, expected. I've always held the belief that history was written by the victors, and as a result, the truth about the Dark King and the Betrayer was also lost in time. It was also very gratifying to see that the characters that were once hailed as the paragons of virtue were not so saint-like after all.
I hate classic heroes. I despise them and I won't even try to hide it.
Doubtlessly, the Old World chapters are my favourites. And I yearn to have even more of them in Book 3 because I want to know more details about how Sarcean came to power- and his downfall, and the full truth about his relationship with Anharion! I wouldn't mind the book stretching to 60+ chapters to accommodate it.
Pacat has indeed delivered on his promises to infuse this sequel with even more "on-page gay" content, so readers need not fret about the shortage of romance. They are plentiful, to say the least.
Now, returning to my initial point:
!!!Dark Rise is not a story about escaping an abusive male partner!!!
While numerous stories tackle this theme, and it is worth telling, this is not one of them.
This is a story about queer people reclaiming their identities. It speaks to those who have been vilified, demonized, alienated, and even disowned from a young age by the very individuals who should have shielded them—their parents and guardians.
They are continuously taught that their queerness is immoral, abhorrent, and despicable, leading them to believe they must conceal and deny their true selves, often feeling as though they are harbingers of evil and thus destined for condemnation. It sheds light on how queer youths grapple with internalized queerphobia due to an environment that refuses to accept them for who they are.
The accusations hurled at the "villainous figures" within this story mirror the stigma that the bigoted society frequently directs at queer individuals: that we’re lewd, vulgar degenerates, disease-spreaders and a danger to children. 
Dark Rise and Dark Heir underscores our society’s twisted morality that the only available paths for queer individuals are either to deny their queerness or face the gravest consequences. In other words: be converted or unalived.
For those of us who have been demonized and alienated by the people who were supposed to protect us—we are not evil. We do not deserve the abuse directed at us, and it is not our fault. There is nothing wrong with us. We deserve happiness, love, safety, and acceptance.
We should all be unapologetic and unafraid of our true selves, like James.
And oH MY GOD. THAT ENDING!!! You think the prologue was crazy??? You wouldn’t LIVE to see that ending.
I have fantasized about *that* final line before, but I thought it was cheesy and that it might be something more like Prince Gambit's "The King! Damianos! He lives!" but it was not like that at all 🤣🤣🤣
It's my dream cheesy line 💜💜💜
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