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#it was so satisfying to look at actual flames
futureman · 7 months
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old dogs don't change
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pairing: joel miller x f!reader
summary: weeks after sleeping together, your no-strings-attached agreement goes up in flames when joel goes on a date with another woman. you make sure that never happens again. (sequel to keep it on the low)
warnings: 18+ MDNI, ex-boyfriend!joel, jackson era, tlou 2 jesse appearance, age gap, hurt, angst, smut, unprotected piv, post-breakup sex, rough sex, public sex, rough oral (m!receiving), exhibitionism, possessive behavior, jealousy, alcohol use, briefly dating other people
word count: 10.6k
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You have no idea who she is, but you bet she’s a total bitch. Is that mean? Maybe. Do you give a shit? Nope.
To be fair, you’d probably say that about anyone Joel started dating after you, but that doesn’t mean it can’t still be true. Sure, you've never actually talked to her…or seen her before in your entire life, but that’s beside the point. She’s cute and bubbly, and everything you’re not, and that’s the point. 
It’s honestly a little comical how different the two of you are, and you can’t help but wonder if Tommy did that on purpose. You know he was the one who set them up. Everyone in the dining hall was talking about it this morning. The latest, hottest piece of gossip, bouncing from table to table like a cruel game of telephone. 
He probably thinks he’s protecting his big brother, but you think he needs to mind his own fucking business. It’s not like he knows anything about your relationship, not really. Well. It’s not your relationship anymore, is it? And Tommy, along with everyone else in this town, blames you for that.
Poor Joel, dumped by the biggest bitch in Jackson, who took advantage of his kindness and patience for years, and broke his heart when all he did was love her. Selfish, cold, and uncaring. Nothing like the pretty, perky girl sitting next to him in the booth they’re sharing at Seth’s. 
If only they knew what really happened.
The bar is especially busy, even for a Saturday night, so you figure no one’ll notice you blatantly glaring at them. It’s not like you care, anyway. You’re feeling warm and loose, and maybe a little too tipsy for your own good, but tonight, you get to do whatever the fuck you want. 
Because Joel’s sitting ten feet away with his arm slung around another woman, and it hurts. 
It sucks way worse than him avoiding you since the last time you slept together, after all of the things you did and said on that couch. The things he said. You shoo away the thought with another swig of beer, wishing you were drinking something stronger. It's for the best. 
If you get any drunker, you’ll probably end up doing something stupid, and the last thing you need is to prove everyone right that he’s better off without you. But you can’t seem to shake the anger that’s starting to simmer below the surface. 
With the emotional toll this night has already taken, you kind of don’t want to. So, you surrender to it. Fuck him. He’s a piece of shit for parading his new girl around right in front of you, and for breaking off your agreement without so much as a word. 
If he wanted to see other people, he should’ve opened his mouth and used his big boy words. Then again, he’s always been terrible at that, so why are you surprised? 
Maybe he’ll fuck her tonight. Touch her all of the ways you like because that’s all he knows anymore. She’ll moan for him, soft and sweet, gentle in her affection, just like she’s touching him right now. But it won’t satisfy him, and when he’s panting on top of her, chasing that all-consuming release only you can give him, you know he’ll be pretending she's you. 
Asshole.
You’re still watching them, shooting daggers from your spot at the bar, when your wish from earlier is granted. Two overflowing shot glasses topped with lime are placed in front of you, and you look up to see a very attractive dark-haired, brown-eyed man smirking down at you.
"Looked a little lonely over here," he says in a raspy baritone even lower than Joel's. He clinks the top of your beer bottle with the bottom of his own. "Thought you could use some company, maybe another drink."
Well, he’s right. You could use some company, and you’d love another drink. There’s no harm in having a little fun, right? If Joel’s doing it, then there’s nothing stopping you.
"So, both of these are for me, then?" you smile coyly, reaching for one. He nods, his own smile widening.
"Could be. Can I join ya?" he gestures to the empty stool next to you. 
He has this cocky look on his face like he already knows you'll say yes, and in your inebriated state, you think it's kind of hot. It reminds you of Joel when you first met. How he knew exactly what he wanted and wouldn't give up until it was his. Until you were his.
You consider him for a moment. He’s young, maybe even younger than you, and obviously confident enough to make a move on you. Fleetingly, you think he might end up being that stupid thing you do tonight, but then you down one of the shots and decide you don't actually care. 
What turns out to be tequila burns the entire way down, and you immediately pick up a slice of lime. You’re hyperaware of the way his eyes lock onto your mouth as you suck on the sour fruit, lingering when a droplet of juice dribbles down your chin. 
It’s not a total surprise when he reaches up to thumb it away, but you are taken off guard by how strange it makes you feel. The pad of his finger is disappointingly smooth, no weathering or even a hint of a callus. You're not sure why that matters to you, but you can take a decent guess.
You chance a glance over at Joel's table and, of course, you have his full attention now. His entire body looks tense, from his hand clenched on the table to the prominent vein bulging angrily in his neck. 
Good. Now he knows how it feels.
Looking back up at your mystery guy, you run your tongue along your bottom lip, catching any remaining lime before you finally give him an answer. 
"Sure. Pop a squat, cowboy," you giggle. It doesn't even sound like you and feels wrong the second it passes your lips, but as long as Joel heard it, that's all that matters. "You got a name?"
He replies, but you're too busy keeping an eye on Joel in your peripheral to catch what he says. In the back of your mind, you think that’s probably a good thing. You'd rather not know, especially if you do end up taking him home. 
Mystery guy laughs at your noncommittal hum and you realize you’ve been caught. But he doesn’t seem upset. It’s clear he’s amused by your obvious interest elsewhere and that piques your curiosity. 
Any other guy here would’ve been pissed by your apathy, especially if they’d bothered to buy you a drink that you accepted, but apparently not this one.
He sits down on the stool next to you, pulling it close enough that his knee presses against yours. You unconsciously lean into him, your skin erupting in goosebumps despite your growing unease.
He's...baffling. A total enigma. You can’t figure out what his deal is or why he’s choosing to keep pursuing you when your eyes have been glued to another man all night. 
The thought of letting this continue long enough to find out is a little thrilling. Might as well see where this goes. If it escalates, you’re more than confident in your ability to care of yourself.
But it happens sooner than you expect. His hand finds the back of your stool and, then, his lips are suddenly right next to your cheek. You can feel the warmth of them as he tilts his head to whisper in your ear.
“Look, not try'na to overstep, but…,” his eyes dart to where Joel’s sitting, unreservedly ignoring his date. The poor thing barely notices, chattering away about something not nearly as important to him as watching you. His gaze returns to you, and you can feel him smirking. “You wanna make that guy you've been staring at all night jealous?"
That’s—wow. You didn’t see that one coming. He’s got a lot of audacity to assume that’s something you’d want, let alone offer…what? His services? 
But, then again, he isn’t wrong. Joel’s been the only thing on your mind since you walked into Seth’s tonight and saw him with her. He’s always on your mind if you’re being totally honest with yourself. It’s plain to see, obvious to every single person in this bar including the man himself.
You eye your mystery guy curiously for a second before nodding, your lips quirking into a small smirk. Maybe it’s time to prove to Joel and everyone else in this judgmental town that you’ve moved on, too. That you’re not the sad, bitter shrew that deserves to be alone.
"Yeah, actually, I do," you reply cautiously. But there's still one lingering question that has yet to be answered. "I just…why? I don’t get why you’re helping me. What are you getting out of this?”
He shrugs, and somehow you can just tell by the look in his eyes that there’s no hidden agenda. You’re not sure how you’re just noticing, but he has kind eyes. This whole time, he’s been nothing but patient and attentive, like Joel always was—...is? 
Was.
You almost wish you could fall for someone like this man instead of pathetically clinging to your past. Maybe you’ll at least get a friend out of this crazy night, if nothing else. But then you remember one, tiny problem with that idea.
“Can you tell me your name again? I promise you have my full attention this time,” you smile sheepishly. He chuckles good-naturedly and, again, doesn’t seem to hold it against you.
“It’s Jesse,” he says with a deep, southern drawl you should probably be more attracted to. “And let’s just say I know how it feels to want someone ya can’t have.”
You nod slowly, understanding perfectly. Except—you didn't realize up until this moment that that's exactly what you want. Someone you can't ever have. 
And it took seeing Joel with someone else, his body pressed up against a woman that isn't you, to realize it. Well, that fucking sucks.
You decide not to ask about Jesse's situation. It's not your business and, anyway, you're both trying to feel better about your circumstances, not worse. 
There’s a silent sense of camaraderie between you that tells you to throw caution to the wind. Tossing back the second shot, you turn your stool to face his, literally and figuratively turning your back on Joel. 
“It’s really nice to meet you, Jesse,” you murmur, and you genuinely mean it. He grins, leaning in slowly, still giving you time to back out if you want to, but you don't. 
Eat your heart out, Joel Miller. This one's for you.
"S'nice to meet you, too," he replies softly. 
Then, his lips are on yours. The kiss is wet and open-mouthed, and yet he handles you so delicately. He cradles your face in his hands as his tongue brushes against yours, and you moan softly into his mouth, letting your body get lost in the way he feels. And he feels so—
Much different than Joel. 
All you can think about is how much you miss Joel's rough touch, the way he'd thread his fingers through your hair and tug you into his mouth, nearly devouring you whole. Joel kissed you like every time might be the last, right up until it actually was. 
Fucking hell, why can't you just enjoy this without him ruining it for you?
You try to forget about it, about him, licking into Jesse's mouth a little more aggressively, and he groans, his body eager and responsive. It's probably more than you should be doing in public, sitting at a bar surrounded by people but, hell, you want them to see. 
They can say whatever they want about you. You're done giving a shit.
And, boy, will they have a lot to talk about after tonight. Joel makes sure of that. It happens so fast, you barely register that Jesse’s lips aren’t on yours anymore like they should be.
One moment, Jesse's hands are trailing down your sides to your waist, and the next, he's being forcibly dragged off you. Between you stands a broad, imposing figure ensuring you stay separated.
Your mind goes blank, and all you can do is watch in shock and disbelief as Joel lets loose on him, his words possessive and almost nonsensical. 
"The fuck you think you're doin' touchin' her like that? Y'need to learn how to keep your hands to yourself, kid, before ya get yourself in trouble," he grits out angrily. 
To his credit, Jesse stays cool and collected, but it’s not enough. There’s already a few pairs of eyes on you, drawn by the physical altercation, and it won’t be long before the rest of the bar notices the impending fight.
"Respectfully, sir, s'long as the lady consents, I'll put my hands wherever she wants," Jesse replies, standing his ground. He tries to move around him to return to your side, but Joel fixes him with a look that sends a shiver down your spine.
"S'that really a good idea?" Joel sounds menacing and looks even more so the longer the conversation continues. 
You’re still numb to everything unfolding in front of you and it’s not until Jesse’s next to you again, snaking an arm around your waist, that you finally come to. The reality of your situation hits you like a ton of bricks and now you’re mad. You open your mouth to retaliate, but Jesse cuts you off before you can get a word in.
“There a reason it wouldn’t be?” he turns the question back on Joel and you tense, anticipating a less-than-friendly answer. Jesse squeezes your hip in reassurance, but it does nothing to soothe your unease. He doesn’t know Joel like you do.
“Kid, do I look like I’m fuckin’ around? Take your hands off her and walk away. M'not gonna tell you again,” he all but growls, taking a threatening step forward. 
Neither of you back down. Jesse’s arm stays firm around you as your nails bite into your palm. It's taking everything you've got not to make a bigger scene than you already have.
You knew it. Since the breakup, you’ve been trying to reconcile this increasingly unfamiliar man with the Joel you gave your entire heart to all those years ago. With each passing month, the differences between the two become more and more obvious.
He's angrier now and has so much less patience. It's not that he's unkind. You know that no matter what his circumstances are, Joel will continue to be a good man. But he has a hair trigger, especially when it comes to you. 
And he wants. God, he always wants you. It’s not that you didn’t have an active sex life before everything fell apart. He just...fucks you differently now. Possessively and without restraint, like he needs to be sure you're satisfied enough to never need anyone else. The agreement to keep sleeping together was actually his idea. And it worked for a while—until it suddenly didn't. 
Now, you're forced to come face-to-face with that reality. Sitting at this bar, you spent the entirety of the night believing he'd decided he didn't want you anymore, that he was ready to find happiness in something simpler than sneaking around with his ex.
Except, it's starting to feel like maybe that's not as true as he made it seem. Like he never should've gone on this date in the first place.
"What the fuck, Joel?" you hiss, fighting to keep your volume under control. Not that it matters. The entire bar is staring at you, their eyes ping-ponging back and forth like they're watching a tennis match. "Back the fuck off. Now. This is none of your business."
"The hell it ain't my business. Some kid's runnin' his hands all over another man's girl and y'think that ain't my business?" 
His trembling hands clench into fists at his sides and, while you’re betting the rest of the bar thinks he’s preparing for a fight, that isn’t Joel. It might be you, though, if he keeps this up.
"Excuse me? And whose girl am I—yours? Because I'm pretty sure your girl is sitting over there in that booth. Or did you forget about your date?"
For a moment, he actually has the nerve to look ashamed, like he feels bad about leaving her all alone at their table and for humiliating her in front of all these people. He avoids her crestfallen gaze, likely not ready to face the hurt he’s caused. 
But it only lasts for a second before his eyes darken again, focused solely on you. As if Jesse, his pretty date, and everyone else in this bar disappeared, and it's just you and him. This conversation doesn't include them anymore. It's a private matter now.
"We're leavin'," he says with finality, his tone leaving no room for argument. 
He should know better. That's not how things work with you. You’re a fighter, a trait he’s always loved about you, even if your ire was directed at him. Back then, it rarely was.
"You're out of your mind if you think I'm leaving with you," you scoff bitterly. "Go back to your date, I'll go back to mine, and we can forget about this. All of it. We're done, Joel."
He shakes his head, mouth tipping down into a frown like he's thinking something over. Then, he huffs out a laugh. Like, an actual laugh, and you start to think maybe he really has lost his mind.
"Y'know, I really don't think we are, darlin'," he drawls dangerously. 
He's on you in an instant, his hand wrapped tightly around your arm as he drags you out of the bar. You briefly consider resisting, but he's moving too quickly. All of those shots you downed combined with the beer you drank earlier go straight to your head, and you're suddenly overwhelmingly distracted by the feeling of his skin on yours.
Fuck, it feels like it's been so long. In reality, you know it's only been a few weeks but, god, you missed it. His hands on your body, anywhere at all on your body. You'd hate how quickly you forget about Jesse if you could think about anything else but those familiar, rough fingertips.
The way they dig into you, reminiscent of how he'd squeeze your thighs or clutch your waist when he was making love to you.
...Wait, what? No...no, fuck. Why is he making this so difficult? Why—Christ...why can't you just leave each other alone? If he never planned on letting you go, he shouldn't have broken up with you. And if he still wanted you this badly...all he had to do was ask. You would've said yes in a heartbeat.
So, you let him steal you away, out into the brisk, wintry air that does little to cool your fury or the heat beginning to coil in your belly. The door shuts noisily behind you, and you immediately wrench your arm out of his grasp before he can say a word. It's your turn to talk now.
"What is wrong with you? You can't just...fuck, you can't do shit like this!" You're seething, practically shaking in your rage, and his expression doesn't look much different. 
"And you can? I dunno what the hell you were thinkin' gettin’ cozy with some goddamn kid, lettin’ him touch ya like that in front of the whole town," he reiterates harshly. He's starting to sound like a broken record. It's the only leverage he's got, and you both know it's flimsy at best.
"Some kid? Jesse's a fucking adult, clearly more mature than you," you bite back. "And it’s a bar, Joel. That's what people do at bars."
Joel scoffs, and you can tell he hates the way Jesse's name falls from your lips. Especially when those lips were on yours not even ten minutes ago. 
"And who are you to decide who can and can't touch me? You broke up with me," you continue resentfully. "You don't get a say anymore."
At that, his face becomes unreadable. He didn't need the reminder, and you know that, but it needed to be said for both of your sakes. Sometimes you think maybe he actually forgets it was his choice to give you up. That he didn't realize his decision would hurt you as much as it hurt him.
"So, what? You gonna take him home then, let him fuck ya?" He leans in close, so close you can feel his soft, graying curls against your temple and the coarse drag of his beard across your cheek. 
"Kiss ya here—," a finger trails delicately down the side of your neck to his spot above your collarbone, then continues down to where you've been aching for him for weeks, "—taste ya here." 
You slap his hand away before he can get any further, but your reaction only spurs him on. How could you forget? He likes that.
"Y'know he can't make ya feel as good as I do. Fuck you just how y'like it, make ya cum as hard as I do," he drawls confidently, almost smugly, in your ear. "Don't ya?"
It's less a question than a statement, because you both know he's right. Joel knows your body better than anyone ever has, maybe even better than you know it yourself. Just as much as you know his. And it's sort of funny. You were thinking the exact same thing about him with his date earlier.
"Sure, Joel. Just like you were gonna take that girl home, right?" You raise an eyebrow, turning your head so your lips graze his skin. "Pretty little thing like her, I bet she likes it slow and romantic. She’ll probably even stick around for a snuggle and some pillow talk. You'd love that.”
Even as you mock him, the sneer marring your face doesn’t quite meet your eyes, and the spiteful nature of your words tastes acrid as they pass your lips. He’s so good at that. Always able to bring out the worst in you to prove his point—that he’s no good for you.
But you stand firm, your chest pressed flush against his in a show of determination. You're still in control here, unlike Joel, whose fingers are twitching noticeably at his sides like he's just itching to get his hands on you again. 
"Maybe I would. Liked it with you, didn't I?" he murmurs wistfully, and that catches you completely off guard.
His words are almost too gentle to belong in this argument, and it doesn’t feel fair. What's worse, he looks like he means them. You’d prefer the fight, the aggression of the man who dragged you out of the bar. Not this. Not these traces of your Joel. 
You can already feel your resolve slipping, and the rapid thrum of your heartbeat tells you to let it. When his hands finally take their rightful place on your waist, he’s in control again.
The cool evening air is suddenly stifling, and you’re starting to feel like you’re suffocating, your thoughts a jumbled, heated haze of anger and fear and want. He squeezes hard enough to pull your hips into his and you unintentionally buck, allowing his hands to travel up your shirt. 
There's an intensity to his gaze, tinged with an unexpected tenderness. He almost looks...sated. Fulfilled, now that you're back in his arms. But not completely, not yet.
"You still haven't answered my question," he mutters. His hands splay across your ribcage, high enough for his thumbs to tease the undersides of your breasts.
You bite down hard on your bottom lip, sliding your hands up his chest to push him away so you can catch your breath, but your body won't cooperate. It's been well-trained to crave his touch. Exhaling sharply through your nose, you fist his shirt and instead pull him impossibly closer.
"You asked a lot of questions tonight. You're gonna have to be a little more specific,” you pant heavily.
It's getting more difficult to think, now, with the warmth of his body against you, his thumbs shifting higher to stroke your stiffening nipples. He urges your hips forward again to meet his, and you can already feel him straining in his jeans.
You whimper helplessly, unable to curb the way your body's reacting to him, and the soft sound causes something in him to snap. He suddenly backs you up against the hard brick of the bar's exterior and begins to grind languidly into your stomach. 
"Y'really believe that boy can take care of a woman like you? Hm?" He interrogates you, his voice gravelly and uneven in your ear. "Tell me I'm the only one who can give you what ya need. Wanna hear ya say it."
Fuck, you can't lie to him. As much as you want to, it's just one more thing your body won't allow you to do. Not when he's working you up like this. 
"You're the only one," you moan around your admission. He's still crowding you into the wall, his hands greedily roaming your soft curves.
His eyes meet yours, darting quickly to your mouth before he leans in to kiss you passionately like he’s rewarding you. It only lasts for a second, one deliciously fleeting second, before he pulls away. You’re not sure why you let him. Or why you kissed back.
"Who's the only man who can make ya scream?" he demands a little more urgently.
"You, Joel,” you murmur obediently, your lips already parted and ready for your prize.
And he acquiesces—another insistent kiss that doesn’t last nearly long enough. This time, you chase him, but he jerks his head back. He still has one last question for you. Except, this time, he looks afraid of the answer. 
"Whose girl are ya?"
He whispers it so softly, you barely catch it over the whistling, nighttime breeze. As he brushes a few ruffled strands of hair behind your ear, you answer without hesitation. 
"Yours, Joel."
His entire body relaxes. Now, he's complete.
"Damn right, you are—"
Then, the front door bursts open next to you, and he's abruptly cut off. Joel is quick to tug you around the corner into the alleyway before anyone can spot you, but he's not fast enough to keep you from seeing who just left the bar.
Jesse.
And there it is. A shock to the system, enough to clear some of that smoky, nostalgic haze and bring you back to the present. But as everything hurtles back for the second time tonight, this time around, you can’t be mad because he’s right.
Of course, you're not Jesse's girl. As pathetic as it sounds, you'll always be Joel's because he’s the only one who can take care of you and give you what need. The only man who can make you scream. But that goes both ways.
Even though he’s been picking fights all night, he hasn’t raised his voice once. It's not the way he wins his battles. So, maybe it's time to remind Joel Miller that there is someone who can make him scream. But he isn't allowed to unless you say so.
It all feels eerily familiar—his fingers digging into your waist and your lips crashing into his hard enough to bruise. You lead him deeper into the alley, back to where the glow of the string lights above the bar can't reach you, before you separate from him. 
Neither of you wants to be the one to say it, but it needs to be heard. Here, in the dark, you can be his completely, but once you part ways and return to your empty beds, that's it. Just like last time. The reasons for your breakup are still very real, and that means your relationship can't be.
"Only here. Right, Joel?"   
He stays silent for a moment, his gaze filled with deep longing and sadness. It almost makes you want to take it back. Take him back. So, when he shakes his head and cups your cheeks, kissing you like this might be his last chance, you're not surprised in the slightest.
And after this whole night—this whole confusing, fucked-up night—you let him. Right now, he needs this. Maybe you do, too.
His lips taste like whiskey and relief, and you return his kiss with all of the passion and fervor he’s pouring into you. You’re both a little frantic in the way you touch each other, but as much as you don’t want it to, it makes perfect sense. 
Those few weeks without each other felt like years, and now that his hands are back on your body and his voice, deep and dulcet, is in your ear telling you how badly he wants you, you don’t want to let him go again.
You grind the heel of your hand into the front of his jeans and his responding groan pleases you more than it probably should. This. This is yours—his pleasure, his attention, him. They belong to you and you alone. Not his pretty, perky fucking date. 
The sudden possessiveness stuns you for a moment, but it's not enough to stop the feeling from consuming you. This must be how it feels for Joel. It's potent and feels so, so…right. You're starting to think you've felt this way for a while.
"I needed you, and you made me wait so fucking long," you gasp against his lips, and the fingers cradling your face tense. You’re still fisting his shirt, nearly hard enough to tear, and you wrench it up from where it’s tucked into his pants. 
"M'sorry, darlin', I know. I know I did,” he rasps back, following your lead and dropping his hands from your cheeks so he can unbuckle his jeans. “M'gonna make it up to ya. Tell me what you want, I’ll give it to ya.”
You want everything. Everything he has to give, you want it all. After everything you've been through, the hurt he caused you, you deserve it. And right now, what you want is for him to feel so good, he'll never go on a date with someone who isn't you ever again.
Sharp gravel bites into your bare skin as you drop to your knees in front of him. He's already so hard under all that heavy fabric and looks desperate above you. Just as desperate as you are for him to replace the flavor of Jesse's tequila and lime on your tongue with something saltier and headier, and undeniably Joel.
You hastily unbutton and unzip his jeans, not wasting any more of the precious time you have left together, before tugging them down just enough to free his cock and balls. He looks...fucking mouth-watering—flushed and red and leaking, and so goddamn thick. You wrap your hand around him and he sighs gratefully, dribbling precum onto your fingers.
"This is what I want," you finally reply, keeping your eyes locked on his as you lean forward to lick a broad line up his cock. He hisses in a breath through his teeth, his thighs already beginning to tremble, and you brace your hand on one. "But you're gonna be quiet, okay? I'm gonna suck your cock and you're not gonna make a single sound."
His expression darkens, but he agrees to your terms, nonetheless.
"Sure, darlin'. Whatever you say," he nods, gazing down at you with furrowed brows. He cradles your face in his hand and brushes his thumb along your cheekbone.
The affectionate gesture isn't lost on you, but this time you accept it. Instinctively leaning into his touch, you revel in it for a brief moment before his cock pulsing a frantic rhythm against your palm becomes an unignorable distraction. But a welcome one.
"That's my boy," you mumble against the tip. Just as a pained noise escapes his parted lips, you swallow him down as far as you can take him, purposely gagging yourself on him before you can dwell on the words that accidentally just tumbled out.
Your boy. Your boy. It echoes in your mind, ricocheting wildly and painfully like a bullet. Before you can take it back, maybe even to keep you from taking it back, he buries his fingers in your hair and holds you in place. You choke around him, trying your best to breathe through your nose, but in doing so, you take in a lungful of the heady musk at his base.
The familiarity of it all sends you reeling. He only gives you a second to adjust before he's fucking into your mouth and biting back a litany of needy sounds that rival your own wet, audible gagging. Your grip on his thigh tightens as your throat relaxes, allowing you to take him deeper, and you can feel yourself clenching around nothing every time he grazes the back of your throat. 
Tears stream down your cheeks and he wipes them away with a much too tender swipe of his thumb, even as he continues to force you up and down his cock. But you're too lost in your pleasure to notice anymore. So fucking good, you feel so, so good. But you need more, and you're not willing to pull off of him just yet.
Tugging down the front of your shirt, you roll a sensitive nipple between your fingers, and, god, that helps. You imagine they're Joel's and it amplifies the sensation, though your fingertips are still too smooth and delicate. Then, they're replaced by exactly what you've been yearning for all night. 
“You don’t even know how beautiful y'look like this,” he grits out, his fingers running through your hair with one hand and roughly cupping your breast with the other. His hips stutter, and you moan around him. “Fuckin’ perfect. How are ya so fuckin’ perfect?”
Beautiful. More beautiful than her? Well, you must be, because you’re the one here on your knees, choking on his cock, and she’s still sitting in the bar wondering if her date will ever come back. 
He won’t.
You preen without meaning to, your eyes blearily finding his while you drool around him, dripping saliva down his balls and onto your bare breasts. It's as if the visual alone has him thrusting into your mouth faster, pushing your limits only as much as he knows you can take. You must look like a wet dream right now, his wet dream, with your watery eyes and swollen, split-slick lips wrapped tightly around him.
Yet, he's remained so, so quiet this entire time, just like you told him to. Joel likes his sex loud, regardless of where you are and who might hear, so if he’s following your rules, that means something. 
It means he'll do whatever it takes to have you. The realization crashes over you like a bucket of ice water, and then you're pulling off of him. 
“You’ll give me anything, right? Anything I want?” your voice cracks around the question, wrecked from the effort of taking him. His hips chase your hand as you continue to pump him, matching his previous, unforgiving pace. 
“That ain’t a question, y’know I will,” he replies breathily and without hesitation. 
You gaze up at him, praying your eyes convey all of the need and anguish and hope you've felt since the last time you slept together. Since the last time you were his.
“Fuck me," and you won't accept anything less than his all. Not that half-assed shit he would've given her. "Fuck me."
He understands. His heart rate kicks up, thrumming wildly against the palm of your hand, and you know he does.
The growl that rumbles through his chest is nearly soundless but powerful. An entire night's worth of tension culminating in a single exhaled breath, just before he drags you up and spins you around, bending you over against the wall. 
Bracing yourself on the harsh brick, you rush to give him better access, arching your back as he tugs your pants and underwear down to your knees. A callused hand runs upward, following the notches of your spine, while his other spreads across your waist, pulling your hips back onto his so you can feel him, heavy and leaking against your bare ass.
God, he’s so close to where you need him now. His knuckles graze your skin as he grips the base, pumping himself before the blunt head of his cock nudges your entrance.
But then, for some godforsaken reason, you feel a wave of panic. Time suddenly feels like it's running out, worsening with every subtle movement he makes. The ticking clock of your and Joel's relationship, perpetually stuck at two minutes to midnight, has sprung to life and that terrifies you.
You don't want him to stop—fuck, you don't want him to stop, but you know neither of you will last long once he's inside you. The build-up was too intense and this entire night has you both wound up so tight, you could snap at any moment. 
You need to savor this. The way you failed to on your couch all those weeks ago, and might not get to ever again.
“Slow,” you tell him over your shoulder, and it's equal parts a command and a plea. If this is the last time, then you want to feel it. Every thick inch of him, while he still belongs to you. “Just…go slow.”
He nods, shifting forward almost imperceptibly so he can watch your lashes flutter as you brace for the stretch.
"Don't need’ta tell me. I know how ya like it," he replies gruffly.
He does. For now, you won’t overthink it or let yourself get lost in the nostalgia of his cock nestled inside you. You’ll just enjoy it. Sex with Joel has always been mind-blowing, and here, in a dirty alleyway, pressed up against the exterior of a bar, you bet it’ll be life-changing.
It stings like it always does when he breaches your entrance, no matter how wet you are for him. Together, you hiss in a sharp breath, mutually adjusting to the overwhelming stretch that quickly ebbs into something addictive.
"Tight as all goddamn hell," he mutters to himself, rocking into you languidly. He takes his time, relishing your walls enveloping him, mesmerized by the way you suck him in until he's buried to the hilt. 
"Would'ja look at that," he continues in awe, tracing where his cock is forcing you to yield to him. "Greedy fuckin' pussy, ain't she? M'not goin' anywhere, don't'chu worry. Gonna take care of ya...make ya feel so fuckin' good..."
He's starting to babble. Not good. Not good at all. 
Broad hands grip your ass, pulling your cheeks apart so he can see how tightly you’re gripping him, and it's too much. His hips buck, startling a pained whine out of you as he rams into that spot. The one deep inside you he can only reach when he’s fucking you from behind. Your cunt clenches, fighting to keep him there, and he growls low in his throat, hungry and territorial like a wild animal.
"There it is," he nudges it again, purposefully this time. You barely manage to bite back a sob as you gush messily around him. "Christ, honey, y'sure ya still want it slow? 'Cus it sure don't sound like it."
He's patronizing you. He knows exactly what he's doing—that's his spot. He also knows it makes you loud as fuck. But he wouldn’t. There’s no way he’d go back on his word, not after he promised he’d be discreet.
"Joel. Don't," you warn him shakily, but you're already too far gone to be intimidating. 
He pulls out until just the tip is still inside you, huffing out a distinctly calculated breath.
"Don't what? Don't make ya cum nice and loud on my cock? 'Fraid I can't do that, darlin'."
That's all the warning you get before he slams in hard. Your jaw drops, and you're positive you couldn't have stopped the wail punched out of your chest even if you'd tried.
Wrong. You’re wrong again, and you should’ve known better. It’s not the first time he’s gone back on his word, remember? Joel’s shitty lack of communication is why you’re here in the first place. Sure, he agreed to be quiet, but he never said anything about you.
He establishes a brutal pace that has you scrabbling against the wall for purchase and slapping a hand over your mouth in a futile attempt to muffle the desperate cries being forced from your body.
Please, don’t be outside. Please, please, Jesse. Don’t still be outside. 
But your luck's officially run out. 
Heavy mahogany crashes into solid brick, echoing down the alleyway, and a raucous group of people spills out onto the street, barely 30 feet from where your ass and tits are out for anyone to see. Then, the deep baritone of Jesse's voice cuts through the rest, and your blood immediately turns to ice. 
You're fucked. You're about to get caught and expose your secret to the entire town, except...Joel isn't stopping. Fuck, he's—
Yanking your entire body up and ripping your hand away from your mouth, rutting into you like he was just waiting for an audience. He snakes a hand up your stomach to palm at your chest, squeezing firmly to anchor himself as he fucks up into you with all the force he can muster.
And it turns you on so much, you finally stop caring. Fuck it. Fuck this town. Fuck everyone in that bar who made you feel like a goddamn pariah for months, crucifying you for the unforgivable sin of getting your heart broken. 
You hope his date's standing out there, too, so she can hear everything she'll never get to have. So they can all see that Joel Miller isn't the crushed, cruelly dumped old man they all thought he was.
Your moans ring out, loud and high-pitched, all but drowning out the messy slap of his hips into the drenched curve of your ass.
"That's it, darlin', let it all out," he chuckles darkly against the shell of your ear. Your next moan tapers into a drawn-out keen that he mimics, his thrusts getting shallow and sloppy. "S'for me, right? Let 'em know you're makin' all those pretty noises just for me."
Christ, you're close. And he's as close as you are, you can feel it. You turn your head, nodding jerkily into his shoulder.
"S'for you, Joel—mmph, just for you. Only for you," your words slur as he continues to bounce you on his cock. 
"Tell 'em you're mine, darlin’. Not just here," he pants raggedly, desperation coating his words. "Everywhere. You're mine everywhere."
The voices are getting closer, about to pass the mouth of the alley, and the ice in your veins quickly thaws, turning to molten lava. They'll definitely be able to able to hear you, but can they see you? For the umpteenth time tonight, you decide you really don't give a shit. You've got none left. You and Joel, that's all that matters now. 
His hand drops between your legs, thick fingers swirling tight, slick circles into your clit while he waits for you to confirm what he already knows. You've said it again and again—weeks ago, wrapped up in his arms, and earlier tonight, after the worst argument you've had since the breakup. 
And you’ll tell him again in this alley as you cum blindingly hard around his cock. Third time's the charm.
"Y-yours, Joel. I'm always yours."
His hips completely lose their rhythm, and he barely has time to breathe out his contentment before the violent convulsing of your cunt and contrasting serenity of your words send him hurtling over the edge.
"That's my girl."
He crashes his lips into yours, swallowing every noise you make as the group finally comes into view. Their drunken chattering and roughhousing aren't enough to draw your attention away from each other, but the depraved sounds of Joel continuing to fuck you through your release captures theirs almost immediately.
A few of them stop to squint into the darkness, trying their best to pinpoint what everyone already knows is happening further down the alley. As they inch closer, they can just barely make out two connected figures, and the wind carrying muffled gasps and labored breathing with it into the street all but confirms it.
"Y'all seein' this?" they whisper amongst themselves, but in the inebriated state they're in, they might as well be yelling.
And that's what pulls you and Joel back to reality. Shit. Shit. So, this is it, then. You tense in Joel's arms, waiting to get called out as the slutty girl who seduced her ex away from his date. Hell, they're not even wrong. You can feel his cum dribbling out of you, and can't help but think maybe you'd deserve it.
From where you're standing, you recognize each and every one of their faces under the string lights, and you know damn well that none of them can keep their mouths shut. Except...wait a second. They're still glancing back and forth between you and Joel in the shadows and each other. 
Oh. The fucking shadows. None of them can see shit. They have no clue who the hell they're looking at. Joel must've caught on around the same time you did, because now he's backing up, putting more distance between you and the looming crowd. Before they can get any closer, one of the younger guys cuts in front to block their path.
“C’mon, it's probably a couple’a teenagers. Just let ‘em be," he drawls, glancing back at you. Your eyes lock, and you're suddenly so grateful, you could cry. It's Jesse. He shoots you a wink before turning back to the group, shaking his head in mock admonishment. "Don't act like y'all weren't doin' the same damn thing at their age."
By some miracle, it fucking works. They all laugh in agreement, appeased by Jesse's quick thinking. One by one, they follow each other out of the alley and back onto the road to continue their original path home. Jesse lingers. 
"Glad y'all figured things out," he calls out over his shoulder, giving you privacy to tug your shirt back up. He clears his throat awkwardly before continuing, "Look, I, uh...distracted as many people as I could from comin' over here, but if y'all were gonna be that loud, maybe you should'a figured things out at home."
Jesse shakes his head again, chuckling to himself as he shoves his hands into his pockets.
"Anyway, y'all have a good night, now. Get home safe."
As he jogs away to catch up with the rest of the group, you start to laugh, too. You can’t help it. It feels cathartic, relieving some of the tension of this overly eventful night.
Joel’s body begins to shake behind you, his chest rumbling with what you realize is deep-bellied laughter. It gradually increases in volume as it melds seamlessly with yours; transitory, white clouds of condensation that intertwine, then dissipate.
You feel him slip out as he starts to soften, and then he turns you to face him, carefully crowding you into the wall. He kisses you again, this time slow and deliberate like you asked him to earlier. His tongue meets yours, gasps exchanged and treasured like you have all the time in the world. 
When he parts from you, it feels reluctant, but he stays close, whispering his next words against your lips.
“M’gonna get ya cleaned up, alright?” he mumbles, dropping his arm from around your waist to run his fingers up the cum leaking down your thighs. You shiver as they continue up, slipping his release back inside you. “Don’t…,” he continues, squeezing his eyes shut as his forehead drops to yours, “…just—don’t go anywhere. Please. I’ll be right back.”
Maybe he’s trying to protect himself from the response he anticipates you’ll give him, but that seems silly after everything you’ve been through tonight. You cup his cheek and thumb the coarse, trimmed hairs of his beard, willing him to open his eyes. He does, hesitantly, one then the other, and you offer him a soft smile.
“I’m not going anywhere, Joel.”
An intoxicating breath fans across your face, and the taut muscles in his neck and shoulders loosen. His lips match the soft quirk of your own and, then, brush fleetingly against your cheekbone as he backs away and disappears through a metal side door you didn't notice before. The moment it clicks shut, you slump against the wall. 
Christ. Your mind is simultaneously blank and racing a mile a minute. Taking a deep breath, you let your head thunk into solid, grounding brick while you wait for even a single coherent thought to take root. What now? What happens next? 
There's no coming back from tonight. You both made choices you'll have to answer for, but, for some reason, that doesn't seem so scary anymore. The clock is ticking, but there's time. Plenty of it.
You're still lost in your reverie when Joel gets back with a thick wad of damp paper towels. You snort at the idea of him suddenly appearing in Seth's kitchen and having to explain himself, but maybe the racket you kicked up right outside his door was explanation enough.
"Seth didn't give you any shit for stealing his stuff?" you ask as Joel drops to his knees and coaxes one of your legs over his shoulder.
The cold air has already started to leach the warmth from the paper towels, and they feel cool as he slides them along your soiled skin. He huffs out a laugh.
"Nah, the kitchen was empty. Think they're startin' to close up for the night." 
When he finishes your first thigh, he surprises you by leaning in to press a soft kiss against your freshly cleaned skin. He nips at you teasingly before starting on the next one.
You hum in response, threading your fingers through his hair and watching fondly as he pays careful attention to his task. He continues to wipe away his drying release, trailing his lips down your thigh as he goes, until he finishes at your knee.
He gazes up at you with a charmingly crooked grin, and that’s when it finally slips out. The single coherent thought you’ve been waiting for.
“I love you, Joel,” you murmur, brushing your fingertips across his cheek. 
His smile falters. Then, it drops completely and your heart shatters. You don’t understand. But that—no. No, it doesn’t make any fucking sense. After everything that’s happened, how could you have been wrong again?
Joel sighs, grimacing as he slowly gets back up. He braces himself on one knee, clearly aching more than he's letting on, but when you reach down to offer him a hand, he refuses your help.
“S’fine, I got it. Just…,” he gestures to your jeans, still hanging loosely around your knees. You pull them up, fighting not to feel humiliated as he rises to his full height. 
You search his eyes for…something. Anything. Any indication of what he’s feeling right now, but they’re blank. Cold and distant, just like they were the night he left you. 
No. He doesn’t get to do this to you again. Not after everything you’ve been through. Not without an explanation. Not if he doesn’t want to lose you forever.
“Tell me why you broke up with me."
For a long time, you genuinely believed you could live without knowing the truth, but somewhere along the line, it began to eat away at you. Now, you want the real reason. He owes you that, at the very least.
You wait while he either works himself up to it or tries to figure out what bullshit to tell you this time. Once his hands settle on his hips, you know with absolute certainty it's the latter.
“Darlin’…,” he starts wearily, but you shoot him a look that stops him in his tracks. He doesn't get to call you that right now, and he knows it. Pausing, he nods grimly before beginning again. "We already talked about this. I’m no good for ya. It was only a matter of time before ya woke up one day and realized it for yourself.”
There it is. That same bullshit reason. You scoff bitterly, not surprised in the slightest.
“What the fuck does that even mean, Joel? We were together for years. If that was gonna happen, don’t you think it would’ve already?" you counter angrily. 
You're trying not to get emotional. This can't be a repeat of what happened last time, but it's dragging up too many painful memories. It's always the same fight. You can't do this anymore.
"You know what? Fuck you," you seethe as your self-control slips completely. "Fuck you for making that decision for me. You had no right."
At your words, his face crumples and he has the nerve to look ashamed. Maybe even a little hurt. His pained expression makes your heart ache, yet a nastier part of you believes it's only fair that he feels this way, too. He sighs, his eyes dropping wistfully to his feet.
“I did what I thought was best," he mumbles quietly as if he doesn't want to be heard. It's hard for him to say this out loud, and you realize it's because he's finally telling you the truth. "I just…I thought you’d be happier with someone else, someone who could give ya a family. Kids. I gave you up so you could have the life ya always wanted."
You eye him incredulously. The life you always wanted? Sure, you and Joel had toyed with the idea of having a family once upon a time, but that was never a dealbreaker. He should've known that. He should've brought it up before deciding to destroy your life together over an idealized fantasy.
“Oh, here we go. Joel, the fucking savior. Mr. Fix-It, swooping in to save everyone and solve every problem," you hurl back venomously. But it was a cruel thing to say, and you immediately hate yourself for it.
Rationally, you know his intentions were kind. He probably even thought he was being selfless. But he hurt you, and, through your tunnel vision, that's all you can see. You push yourself off the wall, stalking closer to where he stands, still refusing to look at you.
"So what, you thought you’d dump me and I’d immediately shack up with some other asshole? Is that really what you think of me?”
His eyes shoot up to yours and his fingers begin to tap restlessly at his sides. Now, you've pissed him off. 
“Don't go puttin’ words in my mouth. That ain’t true and you fuckin’ know it," he all but growls, his body shaking with a turbulent combination of frustration and adrenaline.
You're starting to feel it, too. This conversation is overwhelming both of you, but he still hasn't told you everything. There's a piece missing, keeping all of his disjointed reasonings from adding up. He's holding back and it's time for him to stop.
“Then what is, Joel?" you plead with him to give you a definitive answer. One that finally explains why you had to lose everything. Ellie, your home. The love of your life. "What’s the truth?"
Then, everything he's kept bottled up inside and allowed to poison his happiness claws its way out as a single, unwavering statement. 
“I’m too fuckin’ old for you!”
The silence that follows his admission is deafening. You watch in shock as he runs a hand through his hair in frustration. He's never yelled like that before or looked so defeated. By something as innocuous as his age. 
It isn't something you'd ever considered, not before your relationship and never once during. But he did. His bottom lip starts to tremble as he turns and takes a few steps away from you.
“Every day, I’d watch ya…offerin’ to take more shifts, spendin’ time at the school with Ellie and the kids," he says softly, shaking his head as he works through his next words. "And every day, I’d feel it. My body givin’ out on me, more and more. My blood pressure’s up, my goddamn knees are creakin’. Couldn’t even fuckin’ stand up on my own just now." 
When he turns back to you, his eyes are wet with unshed tears. He feels too far, but you know you can't go to him, yet. He's not finished.
"You can do better than that. You deserve better than that," his voice cracks and your whole world blurs into a wash of colors. “You’re gonna outlive me by a mile. I’m an old man, darlin’. It wasn’t fair for me to keep ya.”
For a while, you just watch each other. Tears overflow and continuously spill down his cheeks and yours, but neither of you moves to wipe them away. 
None of this is fair. You're both miserable and heartbroken, perpetually yearning for a love you've told yourselves you can't have. Months ago, Joel made a choice for both of you. You won't make the same mistake he did.
"I didn't want fair, Joel. I wanted you. A life with you...," your face screws up as you fight back a sob, "...the rest of my life with you, however long that is."
Joel takes a tentative step forward, carefully reaching out to touch you, but stops himself before he can get too close. He looks afraid...of you. Scared of the consequences of allowing you back into his heart. 
A sob escapes your chest, then, and you wrap your arms around yourself, suddenly bitterly cold and wanting nothing more than for Joel to hold you. To tell you for the first time since the breakup that he loves you and, regardless of time, won't ever stop.
So, you cross the alleyway and cup his wet cheeks in your hands, wiping away his sadness and, hopefully, his fears. He melts into the poignant familiarity of your touch and it makes you brave. This time, you'll be brave enough for both of you.
"Don't I deserve that?" you whisper, close enough to share his next breath. He watches your lips, hanging onto your every word. "Don't you?" 
His eyes meet yours, and it finally happens. The moment Joel gives in and decides to let himself be happy. He nods slowly in your grasp, reaching up to cradle your hand on his cheek. 
"Dunno what I deserve, darlin'. Not after the things I've done and the hurt I put ya through. But if I'm...if this is really what ya want...," he hesitates, his voice thick with tears and, yet, still that full-bodied, twang that sounds like home. "I'm yours. 'Til my last breath, I'm yours."
He kisses you before either of you can start crying again, and it's all there. The love he kept under lock and key to protect you, released from the prison of his own making.
His kiss feels different again. There's no hunger or rush, and the possessiveness—the need to devour everything you have to give so there's nothing left for anyone else—is gone. He's sure, now, that there's no one else you'd rather give yourself to.
His arms circle your waist and he pulls you closer, crushing you into time-worn chambray and sullied denim as you continue to explore each other like a pair of horny teenagers. Two lovers learning to give and take for the first time. Time passes slowly in this space you've carved out for yourselves, even as the moon continues to rise in the night sky and floods the corridor with light. 
Then, noisily and as if right on cue, the last-call crowd stumbles from the bar and immediately catches what the previous group missed. You and Joel separate, dazed but unhurried, to find that it's them. 
It has to be fucking kismet that, of everyone in Jackson, the first to witness your reconciliation would be the biggest blabbermouths in the entire town. The same women who talked shit about you every day for months and constantly vied for Joel's attention, standing there with wide eyes and slack jaws.
Their varied expressions almost make you want to laugh, and you can't help but snort unattractively into Joel's shoulder. Half of them are glaring at you, and the rest look either devastated or genuinely surprised. Guess you were better at hiding your arrangement than you thought, not that it matters anymore. It's a relationship again, and everyone's about to know all about it. Joel clears his throat, drawing their attention back to him.
"Evenin', ladies. S'there somethin' we can help ya with?" he drawls, breaking out the Southern charm that endeared every single one of them to him in the first place.
They all shake their heads, looking a little too pleased with themselves once the initial shock wears off and they realize you've just given them the gossip of the century. After a few fake, high-pitched pleasantries, they slink away as quickly as they came, already chatting to themselves about some shit you'll definitely hear tomorrow at breakfast. You watch them go, feeling oddly liberated.
"Guess the cat's outta the bag, huh?" You wrap your arms loosely around his neck, still chuckling softly to yourself. Joel huffs out a laugh, too, bending down to kiss the crown of your head before nodding in agreement.
"'Fraid so," he muses, amusement and a hint of something lighter glinting in his eyes. 
You haven't seen him this relaxed in a long time. As he holds you in his arms, he leans a fraction of his weight on you to ease the night's strain on his back and knees, and it makes you feel needed. Relied on. That's new, Joel depending on you like this. Things are going to be different this time around, you can tell. They already are. 
You hum, ruminating on what awaits you after your first night back in your own bed, in your own home. What everyone will think and say—to your face and behind your back—when they find out you're back together. Though, the only opinions you give a shit about are Ellie, Tommy, and Maria's, anyway.
So, yeah, you're a lot of things right now: exhausted, yet relieved and so full of hope. But you're not afraid, the cat and the bag be damned.
"I'm not," you tell him honestly as you pull away. You let your hands trail from his shoulders, down his arms, until his hands are in yours. 
Tugging gently, you walk him backward out of the alley, away from the bar and plummeting winter chill, and any lingering, prying eyes. Even the moon and stars have no stake in what comes next. This moment, right here and now, belongs to you and Joel, alone.
"Take me home, Joel."
The light in his eyes burns brighter, amusement giving way to adoration and contentment. He's been waiting for this, to be given the privilege of keeping you safe and taking care of you the way he needs to—it's how he shows love. 
He slots his fingers between yours and leads you down the empty streets of Jackson. 
"Darlin', nothin' would make me happier."
thanks for reading!
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sukuslutx · 2 months
Text
Just the two of us. — R. Sukuna
— for just how long could you keep up the tough act?
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Feat. true form!Sukuna, fem!reader
CW: minor death (of an npc), blood, rough sex turned soft kinda, you are also a jujutsu sorcer with a cursed technique, breeding,he has two dicks, hair pulling, Sukuna being a tease, angst if you squint – also kinda not proofread
wc ~ 4.9k
Note: My biggest red flag gotta be thinking I could personally be such a bitch to him and still get away with it.
''Sukuna-sama called for you'', you hear the maid say in a lowly tone, barely audible against the backdrop of your contemplative gaze out the window into the lush gardens below. The day held promise in its sun-kissed embrace, yet a subtle disquiet lingered in the air. You grinned at your own reflection in the mirror, pausing your makeup adjustments, acknowledging the maid with a simple nod before she retreated.
You got off the chair and made your way there, a soft melody dancing from your lips as you traversed the halls to Sukuna's chambers. Irritatation and annoyance both suddenly washing over you as you heard the loud sounds coming from inside the room. You supressed a sigh and instead giggled to yourself as you opened the door and entered.
''Sukuna-sama, feels so good'', the woman on his lap babbling, fucked out of her mind already as she was mindlessly bouncing on him. You noticed that he didnt actually give a single care about the woman in front of him when his eyes met yours. He knew you were watching, flashing you an annoying grin. The next thing he felt was blood splashing on his face. The woman's head exploding right in front of him.
''So fucking loud, such a bother'', you said as you approached him. Whatever was left of the body falling backwards and off his lap, you kick it to the side out the way as you stood in front of him.
''Why must you make me do this shit'', your tone annoyed as you pressed your hands onto his chest.
''It's quite entertaining dont you think'', he looks down at you, one pair of his hands coming to grab your hips. You leaned in closer, your lips curling into a smirk as you met Sukuna's gaze with a mixture of amusement and defiance. "Entertaining, perhaps'', your lips brushed over his but just as they were about to connect completely you move your head back, „but I tire of cleaning up after your messes," you retorted, your voice dripping with disdain.
Sukuna chuckled darkly, his grip tightening on your hips as he pulled you closer. "Oh, but my dear, you will always do anything for me, would you not?" he remarked, his tone laced with mockery.
You gritted your teeth, suppressing the urge to lash out at him. Instead, you forced a smirk and pushed against his chest, breaking free from his grasp. "I excel at many things, Sukuna," you countered, your voice ice-cold, "but indulging your whims may not be one of them anymore."
Sukuna's smirk widened, his eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and something else, something darker and more primal. "Is that so?" he murmured, his voice low and husky as he took a step closer to you, his presence overwhelming.
You could feel the heat radiating from his body, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. Despite your best efforts to resist, a shiver of anticipation ran down your spine, igniting a fire deep within you that threatened to consume you whole. It was always like this with him. You hate that he was right, you would do anything for him, hell you would bend over backwards if he demanded without a second thought, but he was the same.
''I still don't get why you need these lowly women, when you know that no one can satisfy you like I do'', you spoke back at him, your voice laced with an icy edge as you came closer to him again pushing him back onto his chair. ''Perhaps so, but it makes the sex better overall when I get you worked up'', he chuckles.
''Stop talking'', you tell him as you move down to your knees in between his spread legs. Two of his dicks towering in front of you as you licked your lips deliciously. Amusement danced in his eyes as you brazenly mirrored his demeanor, your defiance is always such a delightful spectacle. None dared to challenge him, yet you, with your unwavering spirit still did, unafraid of the consequences that might follow. You weren't scared of death, to be honest dying by his hands would probably be the best way to go out, you thought.
You flashed him a smirk as you took one of his dicks in your mouth while lazily stroking the other. ''I'll ruin you'', was all he said as he suddenly jolted feeling your teeth grazing his dick. He quickly yanked you by the hair and up to meet his face. Yet, rather than recoil from his grasp, you met his gaze head-on, a defiant smirk playing upon your lips."Don't threaten me with a good time, big guy," you quipped, your voice laced with lust, daring to challenge the formidable force that held you in his grasp.
Sex between the two of you was never romantic, never soft nor gentle. For that you needed a pure kind of love, and that was something neither of you had. In the tumultuous dance between you and him, love in its conventional form was an elusive phantom. Instead, what bound you together was a volatile concoction of desire and obsession, a toxic essence that ignited flames of passion even as it left scars upon your soul.
''You still got that fitlhy mouth on you little minx, one day ill manage to fuck that behaviour out of you'', he dragged you by the hair and threw you onto the bed. You squirmed up to him quickly ''but you love it, do you not?''.
He just scoffed back in response. ''Thought so'', you pushed him to lay down as you crawled up his chest, tracing it with your tongue. Your hands tracing his inked skin. Gosh you knew and memorized every inch of him. You positioned yourself to sit on his face, untangling the garments you've been covered with. No underwear underneath, after all it was the most convenient. You lowered your soaking wet pussy onto his face. A barely audiable sound escaped your lips, you can't believe that what got you this wet was killing that woman right in front of Sukuna. You suddenly get pulled from your short train of thoughts as you felt Sukuna's mouth attach to your folds in an instant. He inhaled your scent, fuck he could never get tired of it, the way you taste, that was his opium. Two of his hands snaking around your thighs pulling you down onto him, while the other two moved up your body to your breast as he gave them a squeeze. He started his assault onto your aching core, just with his tongue. He knew all of your weak spots so he didn't need much more. You began grinding on his mouth, soft moans already escaping your lips. You could be loud but you didn't want to give him the satisfaction this soon. He was so good at this, after all you did it so many times, how could he not be. The sensation of his tongue inside you was just otherworldly.
His lips lapped on your folds, his tongue proding into your hole, he moved one of his hand up to your lips waiting for you to take a hint and take his fingers in your mouth. You slightly opened your mouth to let him enter, tongue already lapping onto his fingers, coating them with your spit. „Good girl“, he mummbles, almost inaudiable from the squelching noises of your pussy. He moved his hand lower snaking it behind you and to your other hole. You let out a hiss as you felt his fingers proding inside. He started to bully them inside of you, his tongue still assaulting your pussy. Stimulated from both ends you started to feel dizzy. One of the hands that was on your hips now moving down to your clit, he pressed on it and started circling his thumb over it, just enough to drive you crazy. He looked up at you, scanning your features, he took a mental note of your expression, this would truly fuel his ego more than it already has. He was a damn tease though. It could go two ways with him, he will either overstimulate you, giving you one orgasm after another to the point your fingers turn pale white from clenching on anything that you could grab or he would edge you but not giving you the release you needed or until you reached an orgasm so pathetic that only left you needing more. Unfortunately for you, today he felt more like doing the latter. So, just as you were about to reach the point of ecstasy, that faimiliar knot forming in your stomach, hands tangling and gripping his hair, eyes turning back, suddenly it all stopped as he forcefully moved you off of his face.
„I cant believe you got this wet from what? Killing that woman?, you might be sicker than me“, he chuckled, his gaze directed towards you. You were already annoyed, he edged you. Not even giving you that sweet release. Fucking prick you thought.
„Why are you pouting all of a sudden? Wanted to cum?, oh my poor baby“, he laughed, „Ya know how many times I told you if you want something take it for yourself. Now, ride me“
He moved up to the headrest leaning onto it, you crawled up to him once again.
„Just shut up and stay still“, you climbed over his lap your pussy that was just moments ago cleanching over air now is just above his dicks. You never really did foreplay much, nor did he bother. You could take the pain, you relinquished in it. He loved that about you though, you could take anything he gives you with a shit eating grin on your face.
Your hand slipped behind you, coming into contact with his dicks as you positioned them to be at each of your holes. „Fuck, are you just going to push them in like that?“, Sukuna grunted one of his hands grabbing your neck, squeezing it just enough to excite you. You hissed from the stretch and you could only feel the tips of his dicks. ''Ngh- shit.'', you bit down hard on your bottom lip.
''Ho-, does it hurt?'', he cuckled squeezing your throat just a little bit tighter. You looked directly into his eyes with a cold gaze. If he were anyone else you might've made him shiver. „Fuck you“, you spat at him as you bottomed out completely onto his dicks. Fuck, it hurt like a bitch, it was taking everything in you to surpress a loud scream that was threatening to escape your sweet lips. You still manage to amaze him, even after all of these years you still had it in you to do so.
On your end, your thoughts were all over the place, fuck, you did this so many times why was your body feeling strange. You had to agree with the bastard, you were a sick fuck just like him. Both of your holes felt like they were being torn in half, yet riding him just now didn't feel bad at all. Why were you so aroused over a fucked up situation. It's all cus of him, you thought. He brought the worst in you, but was it really that bad when you yourself enjoyed it to the last bit. „Ha- you fucking bastard“, you looked at him nothing but a grin on his face as he was analysing your features. „What the fuck are you grinning at?“, you looked down at his prominent chest your hands moving up his torso. „Wish you could see yourself right now“, his lips smirking while anger bubbles up within you.
„Why you-„ you suddenly got cut off, your breath stuck in your throat as he thrusted himself up forcefully into you, the stretch even more prominent. By reflex you tried to push him down and squirm on his lap, and he does halt his movements seemingly complying, but only to thurst up once again a bit more forcefully. This time you were falling forward onto his muscular chest. Your mouth fell open as you felt the tips of his dicks hitting so deep in both your holes, and Sukuna already reveled in the way you completely started to fall apart on his dicks. You pushed yourself back up, face contorting with pleasure.
„When will your little brain understand,..“, Sukuna spoke as he placed two of his hands on your waist gripping it harshly as he moved you up his dicks, „that you can't ever win“, he grinned so annoyingly while looking at you as he forcefully pulled you down bottoming out once again, filling both your holes just perfectly, „against me“. You screamed out, not being able to hold yourself back any longer. „Ahh- FUCK.“, your back arched deliciously in his hold, both your holes twitching as you felt almost as if you were losing control over your body for a moment there. The sweet pain turning into pleasure real quick. You had to turn this around, you couldn't just let him have his fun nor overpower you just yet. You will let him have his fun later, you thought, but for now you'll try to be equal on this battlefield. Your next action wasn't calculated, it just crossed your mind as you saw his prominent chest. His nipples were always sensitive, that was something no one knew but you. After all, you were the only one who was actually allowed to put your hands on him. Due to his strong grip on your hips and your legs already starting to get weak, you couldnt get out of his hold, so instead, you traced his chest with your hands as you reached up to one of his nipples and pinched it- hard. He instantly hissed, his movements stuttering a bit already, overwhelmed by the sudden sensation he felt. „Ho-?“, you murmered, flashing him a smirk, as you pinched it harder.
„Don't test me“, he grunted, almost completely halting now all of his movements.
„Oh- I think I just might“, you giggled as you leaned forwards onto him, latching your mouth on one his nipples in an instant, still continuing your assault on the other, rolling it between your fingers. You could hear him groan loudly but he wasn't doing anything to stop your actions. „Hah- whats wrong Sukuna-sama, getting weak on me now?“ Another hiss coming out of his lips as he felt you bite down on his nipple. He won't admit he was enjoying this, and you knew that your fun will soon be over and just then one of his arms reached up, tangled into your hair and yanked you off of him. „Did you have your fun“, his face just inches away from yours.
„Hmm-“, before you even got to answer you were already pulled off of him and thrown back onto the bed. „I suppose it's my turn then“, the look in his eyes was a wild one, anyone else in your place would be shuddering in fear from it, but not you. The endless possibilities of what he might do next excited you beyond comprehension. You didn't even have the time to react before he was already towering over you. One of his arms cupping both of yours and pinning them above your head; the third one coming into contact with your neck squeezing it just right, while the other two grabbed both of your legs pushing your knees up to your chest as he had you fully pinned down to the matress like that. You tried to squirm unsuccessfully, you hated how your aching core got even wetter from the way he could just so easily restrain you. Actually, who were you kidding, you loved a man that could challenge you, and even manage to dominate you. You were turned on by the helplessnes you felt under him. He brought his face closer to you so you decided to use up the opportunity, and with some strenght you have left pushing your head up until your lips met his. He grinned into the kiss as he instantly gave in. Your lips clashing and fighting for dominance over one another, tongues dancing with each other. As you were about to detach your lips from his you bit down on his bottom lip hard, drawing blood. You instantly licked it up, the metallic taste clouding your mind, „Fuck me, hard“ you murmered over his lips as your head fell back onto the matress again. A grin so wide decorating his face. He didn't need to say anything, his facial expression was telling you everything you needed to know. There was a spark in his eyes that was about to ignite any second now, both of his dicks aching more than they have been. In a single thurst he bottomed out, both your holes felt full again. A soft gasp and a pityful moan leaving your lips as he started pounding into you, there was no holding back any longer. The perverted sounds of skin on skin contact grew louder and louder as both your holes were drooling from the delicious stretch of his thick size and lenght. The hand around your throat squeezing it a little tighter than before, restricting your oxygen. You started to feel dizzy from the feeling, yet you still grinned, you must be out of your mind. The sensation was one that seemed eternally foreign, a sensation you believed you could never grow accustomed to.
He looked so beautiful towering over you, his visage that others might find monstrous and repulsive held an inexplicable allure for you. As your eyes met his, a spark ignited within you, a spark that seemed to dance in the depths of your soul. But why were these thoughts invading your mind? You shook your head abruptly, as if to disperse the unwelcome intruders, desperately attempting to push away any notion that threatened to breach the fragile barrier you had built around your heart. Did you truly need to remind yourself once more of the nature of the connection between the two of you? You prayed fervently that he hadn't caught wind of any of this.
„Ah, whats that look in your eyes sweetheart, if i didn't know you, I would think you are in love or something“, he chuckled, thrusting into you.
„Fucking bastard-„, you just groaned, already annoyed over such a statement.
„Now, now-„ he grinned, as he began to pick up the pace of his movements. The hands that were holding your legs, pressing your knees to your chest, tightening their grip as his hips rammed into you harder and harder. You hissed, the sensation starting to be painful. His hips strained as he kept forcing himself in and out of you. The intensity of his thrusts making you jolt in the bed. You felt his grip on your hands starting to loosen until he let them completely free. Taking the opportunity you snaked your arms around his neck and pulled him closer down. You started biting along his jawline moving down to his neck, leaving visible marks on purpose. You knew he wouldn't heal them, you wanted them to be as visible as possible. You were reaching your high again, and you can feel he was too, so you squeezed around him just perfectly, tipping both of you over the edge. With a loud groan he emptied himself inside you, coating your walls white. He could see that familiar white circle forming around his dicks from your own juices. You knew this was far from over but you took the liberty to try and calm down, both of your holes sensitive. It was short lived.
„On all fours for me“, he wasn't asking, it was a demand but fuck if you were ever the obedient one.
„No“, you responded with a scoff, you were always the one to test his limits. You felt him pull out of you as he grabbed your hips tightly. His nails leaving creasent moon patterns where they bruised your delicate skin. He pulled you towards the end of the bed and flipped you around onto your stomach, your ass up.
Sukuna pulled your folds apart with one hand and same for the other hole, as he admired the view of your arousal and his cum dripping out and down to your thighs. The thoughts of brutalizing your already sensitive holes and emptying himself over and over again inside of you clouded his mind, both of his dicks impossibly hard again.
„Well, remember you fucking asked for this“, your eyes went wide as Sukuna harshly thrusted into you once again, but this time picking up the pace instantly as his hips slammed into you. You grabbed the sheets of the bed and squeezed them as some makeshift support. As he relentlesly pummeled into your holes, you were succumbed with pleasure once again, he felt insanely bigger from this angle, the feeling beginning to turn your brain into mush. Each of his thrusts calculated, he knew how to make you go insane, and as he kept going you were slowly losing touch with reality, mumbling things as you lost control of what you were saying. The feeling so heavenly, as your approached another orgasm.
''Suku-, ah... feeels so good-„ you moaned, your soft voice was like music to his ears, as they perked up. He wanted to hear more. „Hm? What was that-, mind repeating it for me?“, you might not see him but you knew he was grinning down at you. The thought of his smug face right now made you want to turn around and smash his beautiful face in.
„Fuck you“, you bit back as you tried your best to get ahold of yourself despite the pleasure he was giving you. You don't want to give him the satisfaction of being in control any longer but the feeling was so infatuating. In an instant you jolted, as you felt a harsh smack on your ass, leaving a red handprint that will most likely bruise. You hissed from the sting, but you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on even more than you already were. If it were even possible the smirk on Sukuna's face got wider as he continued to fuck you; your ass just perfectly bouncing off of him, taking him so well like you always did. He wanted you at his mercy, he loved that you never gave in so quickly without a fight, it was like a tugawar between the two of you, but nevertheless he knew that he could always make you crumble. You made him too, on several occassions, but right now he wanted the satisfaction of you begging for him, for his cocks, calling his name over and over again like some prayer.
He decided to pull out suddenly, your body falling flat on the matress. You instantly turned around, letting out a whine. The feeling of emptiness and lack of stimulation bubbling up within you. „You did it again, you prick“, your voice full of irritation as you glared at him.
„If you want to cum, I'll need you to beg for it“, he retorted, grinning back at you.
„Like hell I will“, you bit back, frustrated about the situation once again.
„Well, we'll see about that“, he taunted. The next thing you know, he rested once again back leaning on the bedrest as he picked your sensitive body and positioned you onto his lap. However, he was holding you just above his aching dicks. Both your holes barely grazing the tips. Your hands were on his shoulder while he held you up with two of his. You squirmed around, wanting to just feel full again, but his tight grip on your hips never let you do so.
„Beg.“
„No.“, you responded, trying once again to squirm in his hold but failing miserably. He latched his lips onto your neck, kissing, biting and sucking, harshly as always. He wanted to leave as many marks as possible. His bites drawing blood that he licked right up. You were biting down on your lip, containing any sound that might slip but the soft moans he oh so loved still found their way out. One of his hands traced down your body until it reached your sensitive clit. His lips attaching to yours as he started teasingly circling over your bundle of nerves. He wanted to make you crumble in his hold. You moaned into the kiss, hands tangling into his hair. This feeling was different. It almost seemed like one between true lovers. You blinked the thought away as you dettached yourself from this lips, catching your breath before connecting them again. The teasing sensation of his fingers over your clit wasn't enough anymore. You needed more, you needed him. All different emotions washed over you and before you knew it you were already crumbling slowly.
„Please-„ it came out breathy.
„Please what?“, he looked into your eyes. Sukuna immersed himself in the current moment, a storm of conflicting emotions roiled within him as he heard your voice as soft as that. Were you ever before like that, he doesn't recall but it was different.
„Please, I need you-„ you spoke softly again, burrying your face into his shoulder. He just hummed, tightening the grip on your hips as he dragged you down onto his lenght completely. You let out a shrill scream from the sudden stretch again, but quickly composed yourself as it turned into breathy moans and pleads for more and more. You could feel the coil in your stomach form again as the pleasure he was givng you was everything you needed and more. You squeezed around him, wanting to make him feel good like he did for you. His hands were roaming over your body and lips tracing from your jaw to your neck so possessively. You loved the sounds that he would make when he was being satisfied.
On his part with each possessive touch and primal growl that escaped his lips, he reveled in the raw intensity of your connection at the moment. His actions that were always fueled by a hunger that bordered on obsession, yet, beneath the veneer of dominance and control, there simmered a quiet unease—a gnawing realization of the transient nature of this connection you both shared.
He picked up his pace, his hips slamming up into you from below as his lips never left yours. Drinking up every sound he got out of you. He looked at you closely, analysing your features. Your eyes were closed so you didn't notice him staring.
You were a mere mortal, he thought, a fragile wisp of mortality destined to fade into oblivion like countless others before you. And though the thought should have brought satisfaction, a perverse sense of power, instead it left him with a hollow ache. He surely wouldn't miss you though, right? Someone else will come and replace you.
His fingers traced over your sensitive bud once again, as his pace never once faltered. You were so close to your high, your moans were getting louder, as the sensation grew more and more pleasurable, he could feel you tighten even more around him.
„Cum for me“, he spoke in between the kisses he was tracing down your neck and that was all you needed to get tipped over the edge and completely crumble around him. He soon followed, painting your walls white and as he claimed you with a ferocity born of desperation, he pushed aside these fleeting moments of tenderness that threatened to break through the facade of indifference. He was not one for softness, for gentle caresses and whispered endearments. No, he was a creature of darkness and dominance.
And yet, amid the brutality of your coupling as it was from the very beginning, there still lingered a silent acknowledgment—a begrudging respect for the mortal who dared to challenge him, to stand toe-to-toe with him and demand satisfaction.
Sukuna found himself surrendering to the moment, reveling in the raw power of your connection even as he braced himself for the inevitable moment when you would slip away, leaving behind nothing but a fading memory. So after satisfying the hunger that had drawn you together, you rose from the tangled sheets, retrieving your discarded robe from the floor. Sukuna watched you with an intensity that made your skin tingle, his gaze lingering on your retreating form as you moved to leave..
"Where are you going?" his voice, low and commanding broke the silence, ''you won't sleep here?''.
You bit down on your bottom lip, torn between the desire to stay and the need to protect yourself from the inevitable heartache that would surely follow. "You know we don't do that," you murmured softly, the words heavy with unspoken longing.
''Right..'' he spoke back. Even though you held yourself good he noticed the shift within you but he decided not to bring it up.
''Goodnight Sukuna...'', you whispered.
He just hummed in response as you turned your back to him and closed the door behind you. As you slipped away into the predawn silence, you couldn't help but wonder if he could hear the words you couldn't bring yourself to say. You could keep up the tough act for a while more... couldnt you?
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tomorrcwz · 1 month
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✰ LATE NIGHT'S DESIRE , O. PIASTRI
[ preview ] working as a mclaren strategist for years, the newest driver is the perfect candidate to satisfy your hunger — he does make it easy for you, coming to your door in the middle of the night.
[ tw ] smut, unprotected sex, dom!fem!reader, teeny tiny little bit of corruption kink, spit kink, inappropriate work relationship | gif by @princemick
[ a/n ] idk what this is but yeah slay or whatever bruh. Might write more smut about oscar, I'm really fixed on him rn + ITS MELBOURNE GP and in honor of that i had to write a little something
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. minors do not read | masterlist .
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The sight of the quiet, charmingly awkward Oscar makes your blood pump fastly though your veins as the desire within you grows. You know its wrong, having inappropriate thoughts about a co-worker, one that isn't as secure as you are on the team but you can't help yourself with it; the need to fuck whoever is handsome and new is strong enough to make you black out rules.
First you had Lando — he was eager to fuck you as you pleased, then you had to have Daniel, who mind you, wasn't as easy to get in your bed and he also wasn't to corrupt as he was the one to mirror your actions and pull some stuff. Sadly it ended rather fast with him getting a girlfriend. But you still have Lando every other month as the boy can't keep a girl around, making him fall regularly in your bed or wherever you are to fuck. It's not that fun anymore, quiet bland. The routine is always the same — first he'll finger you to get you wet enough and then you push him to whatever surface and take his cock. Afterwards you clean yourself, Lando already out of the door.
So, that brings you to Oscar.
He's fresh blood, newly single, and dear lord in heaven over the winter break he put on a lot more muscles, looking ridiculous strong, causing your pussy to flutter whenever you see him. You flirt with him quite often and you do see his brown eyes cloud with lust, but you want to take your time. There's no need to rush.
But the day comes.
Its Sunday night, hours after the race and celebrations of Oscar taking P3, when you hear knocks on the door of your hotel room. Reaching for your phone, the homescreen only shows a few messages from people you're currently not interested in responding. No Lando. Normally, he'd shot a text beforehand, so you're not sure of who is standing opposite the wooden door.
Breathing in, you swing your bare legs off the bed and walk across the room, opening the door. The sight greeting you leaves your mouth agape — Oscar's wearing an maroon satin shirt, tucked into a pair of black slacks. On his thick fingers are two rings which you've never seen him wear but it suits him. He looks hot, even more so with his hair all toulouse and a curl glued to his forehead. It's an indicator that he is influenced by Lewis and Guanyu, both very fashionable drivers on the grid, and you could kiss them right now because Oscar has never looked this hot. He is but this is otherworldly.
"Everything alright, Oscar?", you ask, crossing your arms under your breasts and unintentionally pushing them up, presenting the man with your more than welcoming cleavage.
He can't help himself; his focus rests on the soft curves of your tits, the skin glistening under a sweat film the heat of middle east brings.
Clearing his throat, the Mclaren driver, sends you a dashing smile. "Yes, actually I've missed you at the celebration and was wondering if you—", he stops himself, cheeks flaming hotly.
"If I want?"
You can see the thoughts running around faster than the car on the track earlier. Must be hard to grasp whatever plagues his mind.
"I was wondering if you'd celebrate with me", he whispers, somewhat bashful which is endearing.
"Sure, let me throw on something else to wear, can't go out in this", you say, hands moving across your body to clarify your point; due to the heat you're only wearing some boxers and a flimsy babydoll top. Oscar gazes at you, shaking his head. "No, no, I mean celebrate in, you know . .", he stumbles over the words, blush now burning his ears too.
Oh. Oh.
To end his misery, you catch his wrists to pull him inside before hitting the door close with your foot and shove him against it.
For the first time you kiss him, all teeth and tongue, and its different from what you have imagined — his hands are rougher, caressing your lower back, creeping under the top to feel the warm skin of yours. Grabbing you by the hips, he sloths his dick against your stomach and grinds. He doesn't feel small, maybe even bigger than his teammate. In your imagination, he was softer yet he let you guide him to bed exactly like dream-oscar did and falls backwards on top of the cream coloured sheets, breath hitching in anticipation.
"Remove your clothes, baby."
You reach for the hem of your top as you command him, letting him stare at your tits while he steps out of his bottoms and throws the shirt in a corner. His milky smooth skin's glowing in the dim lighting a street lamp spends, and you see a map of freckles on his chest as well as a happy tail lending down to his beautiful cock.
Spitting in your hands, slander finger gently touch his length, causing Oscar's head to fall back, lips wide agape and you take the opportunity to spit in his mouth. "Shallow, Osc, be a good boy f'me, yeah?", you coe, hot breath fawning the auricle. He does, groaning lowly but its getting louder when you bring your legs on either side of his lap, left hand grabbing his cock and coating it in your wetness before probing the fat mushroom tip at your pussy, gliding down till every inch is inside you.
The feeling of his cock might aswell change everything; he's the biggest you've ever taken, scraping and burning you inner spongy walls deliciously as he kisses your cervix.
Fuck Lando, he doesn't have anything on Oscar.
"M so full, you're filling me up so good, baby", the praise let the man smile in a haze, far lost in how good you ride him. Your wet hole holds his grith snuggly as you fuck yourself on his cream coated length — his eyes roll back in pleasure at the sight of a white ring forming on the base of his dick, something he has never seen before, and it spurrs him on to grind his hips into yours, getting a worish wail out of you.
You fuck him till his abdomen thighten and he pumps you full of cum, that is oozing out of your desperately moving body, chasing your own orgasm. Oscar leans in, bitting on your pulse point. Then you fall over the edge, legs shaking as you still on top of him.
After catching your breath, you charmingly smirk at him before he grinds up in your fluttering hole — he's already getting hard again.
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mncxbe · 10 months
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Taking a bath with them♡
𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊, 𝑪𝒉𝒖𝒚𝒂, 𝑨𝒌𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒘𝒂, 𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒑𝒐 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓
Genre: fluff/ slight nsfw♡
Not requested but I wanted to write this for a while. enjoy♡
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𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊
he's a bit tricky at first cuz he's reluctant to let you see him without bandages, but if you keep insisting he will eventually indulge you
"Only this one time, bella" he says but he loves it so much that now you take baths together on a regular basis
sometimes the baths are quite romantic: with bubbles, scented candles and rose petals; other times he will bring rubber ducks and insist you play with him.
definitely helps you wash your back if you ask him♡
"Hehe, soapy tits" is something you hear every time there are bubbles
uses baths as a form of aftercare too
"Hey Osamu" you say as you stepped into your shared bedroom "I wanna ask you something"
"Sure, bella. What is it?"
"So I've been thinking and I'd really like to take a bath with you"
Dazai's eyebrows shot up in surprise at your proposal. "But bella, it's late plus it's really hot outside. Do you really think it's the best time for a bath?" he asked in a doubtful tone.
You crossed your arms over your chest and pursed your lips "I guess you're right. Sorry I bother you sweetheart".
Your boyfriend noticed the hint of disappointment in your voice, an overwhelming feeling of guilt taking over him. He hated to shut you down like that but he didn't think he was ready to take off his bandages in front of you. Unless...
He quickly discarded the book he was reading on the mattress and made his way to you, arms locking around your waist "Actually, I think I could use a bath. And you never bother me, my sweet belladonna"
You agreed to let him prepare the bath and half an hour later when you walked into the bathroom you were met with a deep scent of vanilla. Dazai had filled the tub to the brim and was now submerged in the water; the only source of light was provided by a few scented candles, their flickering flames illuminating the curls of steam that rose from the tub.
You didn't know how your boyfriend did all of this in thirty minutes but it was more than you could've asked for. With a giddy smile on your face, you dropped the cotton towel that was wrapped around your body and tip toed to the tub. As you slid in some water spilled over the edge. You leaned against Dazai's chest, his arms instinctively wrapping around your waist to hold you closer.
"So, is my pretty girl satisfied?" he asked after a few minutes of silence.
"Yes, thank you Osamu. I'm really happy" you replied in a cheerful tone, gently sweezing his forearm.
He chuckled lowly as his fingers started gliding up and down your thigh. "And is there anything else I could do to make this evening ever better?". His breath was hot against the shell of your ear, his honeyed voice making you rub your thighs in anticipation; you needn't look at him to know that he had that mischevious grin plastered on his face.
When his hands got close to your core you seized his wrists, pushing him away.
"Not now Osamu. Let's just enjoy the bath please"
"As you wish, bella" he replied in his usual amused tone. He rested his elbows on the edge of the tub as he took in your figure; the tips of your hair that reached the water and seemed to bloom, floating around like sea anemones, the soft round of your shoulders, the arch of your brow. A warm feeling nestled into his chest, making his heart beat faster and he pulled you closer, pressing a kiss on the crown of your head. He closed his eyes, allowing the hot vapors to cloud his senses.
"Thanks for doing this with me, love"
"Anytime" you replied, leaning further into his touch.
𝑪𝒉𝒖𝒚𝒂
he has one of those huge, fancy jacuzzi tubs with pretty lights
when you first ask him to take a bath together he's all for it. he preps the tub, brings champagne, grapes and other little snacks for you to enjoy
he's a romantic so for sure he has tall red candles engraved with intricate patterns
loves to cuddle you and always offers to wash your hair or massage your tense shoulders while whispering sweet nothings
when you're done he will wrap you in a fuzzy bathrobe and do some skincare with you
It's been a long and stressful week at work and you couldn't wait to get home and finally rest. You quickly tapped the six digits code, nails clicking against the glass screen of the digital lock, and you entered your apartment. As you slammed the door shut and started taking off your coat, your mind was so clouded by sheer exhaustion that you didn't even notice your boyfriend lounging on the couch. His voice suddenly snapped you out of that state.
"Hey darling. How was work?"
"Oh Chu dear. I didn't expect to see you tonight." Your boyfriend worked late hours and at the end of the week he was usually caught up in meetings, so you were used to him coming home well after 10 p.m.
"Well, I decided to come home early today and spend some time with you. Plus, I have a surprise" he said as he got up from the couch, beckoning you to follow him.
"I don't know Chu. I'm really tired tonight I just wanna go to sleep" you whined, causing the man to smile sweetly.
"Oh trust me dear, you're gonna like this."
You followed him to the bathroom and he slid the door open. The large tub was filled with steaming water and bubbles; the few candles placed on its edge cast a warm light over the walls of the room. Next to the window that overlooked the gleaming city laid a little marble table with two empty glasses and a bowl of white grapes.
Your eyes glittered with joy as you turned to face your partner "This is amazing thank you so much Chu"
"Come on, get in. The water's gonna run cold" teased your boyfriend "I'm gonna go get us something and be right there with you."
You quickly slipped out of your work uniform and slid into the water, allowing its warmth to relax your tense muscles. Your gaze drifted out the window to the city, its buildings shining against the dark blue sky; no matter how many times you saw it, the view never ceased to fascinate you.
Soon after Chuya returned with a bottle of cold champagne and poured some in the crystal glasses before joining you in the tub.
While you sipped the sparkling wine you talked about trivial things: work, plans for the weekend, good and bad things that happened that day. At some point Chuya pulled you closer to him, his face nuzzling the crook of your neck and for the first time in weeks you were able to relax.
"Thank you darling" you spoke softly, your fingers gently stroking his red curls. "This is wonderful. We should do this more often"
You felt him smile against your neck, a chuckle escaping his lips "We shall, if you wish so. Now let me wash your hair dear"
You nodded eagerly, reaching for the shampoo bottle. He took his time to massage your scalp and then moved on to your shoulders, earning a soft moan from you when his thumbs rubbed your sore muscles.
"Just relax and let me take care of your, okay?" he whispered as he planted a kiss on your forehead. You closed your eyes and allowed him to work the tension out of your body.
By the time the bath was ready you were fully relaxed and half asleep.
"Can we go to bed now?" you managed to utter between yawns "I'm sleepy"
When you got to bed you snuggled up against his chest, slender fingers entangled in his hair. "You smell good Chu" was all you said before drifting into a dreamless sleep.
Your boyfriend only chuckled, arms snaking around your torso. He whispered a sweet I love you before shutting his eyes, letting your steady breath lull him to sleep.
𝑨𝒌𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒘𝒂
it takes a lot of patience and effort to get him to take a bath with you because he's lowkey kinda scared of intimacy and doesn't like not having rashomon with him; it makes him feel vulnerable
the first time you bathe together he is a blushing mess and he does his best not to look at your body but after you reassure him that it's ok to look he'll relax a little
uses baths as a form of aftercare or to cheer you up after a stressful day
although he doesn't admit it, he loves it when you put scented oils in the water
he has a little table next to the tub so you can drink tea while bathing♡
not a big fan of keeping the lights on but he does like candles
His first impulse was to say no, to shut down your initiative and hide in the bedroom for the rest of the evening, but the pleading look on your face made him hesitate.
"Come on Ryu it'll be fun. Consider this a bonding experience." you said with a wide smile.
He wasn't keen on your idea to take a bath together, but he knew that even if he refused today you'd bring it up again tomorrow or in a couple of days. So why not get it over with?
"Alright" he replied in a harsh tone "But make it quick"
Your smile grew even wider as you nodded eagerly, making your way to the bathroom to prepare the tub. "Just give me a few minutes"
In the meantime Akutagawa retreated to the bedroom to mentally prepare himself for the bath. Once again his worries were haunting him like a pack of hyenas; although you had been together for quite some time he still wasn't used to closeness. Even during intimate moments he kept Rashomon close by and you didn't seem to mind it, but he knew it would be absurd to bring his coat in the bathroom. And what if he messed it up and ruined the experience for you?
His train of thought was interrupted by your voice "I'm ready Ryu. Come here"
He took in a deep breath, pushing the racing thoughts to the back of his mind and hesitantly made his way to the bathroom. When he opened the door and saw you in the tub, wet hair running down to your chest and cheeks slightly flushed from the steam, his face turned a deep shade of pink. The back of his hand came to cover his mouth, something he did whenever he was nervous.
He quickly undressed and neatly folded his clothes, placing them on the laundry basket before stepping into the tub with you. At first he avoided looking at you, afraid of what you might say or do, opting to focus on the light herbal scent that lingered in the air.
You found his uneasiness absolutely adorable. He was fiercely gripping the sides of the acrylic tub, fingers curling over its edge. His eyes were darting around the room and his face was getting paler by the second. You nudged his thigh with your feet, making him jolt in surprise.
"Relax, Ryu. You look like you've seen a ghost" you snickered "Do you dislike this that much?"
There was a trace of worry in your voice which made your boyfriend curse himself.
"No, it's not that. I really like it it's just that..." he paused for a secons but you enouraged him to continue. "I'm still not used to being this close with someone, to doing such domestic things. It's strange"
You tilted your head to the side, a few strands of hair falling over your face as you flashed him a smile. "I know it's hard for you Ryu, but you can let your guard down and be vulnerable around me. I'll always be here for you and I'm really proud of how far we're come"
His body visibly relaxed at your words and he sighed loudly. "I know. Thanks for being so patient with me dear."
"Eh don't mention it. After all, I do love you"
Love... he thought as he held your gaze, your eyes sparkling with joy and for the first time since you started dating he said it back.
With a swift movement you got on your knees and leaned in, placing a small peck on his forehead "I know, dear. Don't worry about it"
𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒑𝒐
he is constantly complaining abour the water temperature
bro is restless. it's a miracle if you get him to sit still for ten minutes; but a good way to do that is to ask him to tell you about cases he solved
if he gets bored he will start a bubble fight
he also brings along some snacks which can be annoying sometimes since crumbs always end up falling into the water
always asks you to wash his hair and back
lowkey has a thing for bath bombs
"Ranpo, stop that!" you whined as your boyfriend threw a handful of bath bubbles at you.
"Not until you pay attention to me" he said with a pout, preparing to launch another ball of foam at you.
"Alright, alright I got it". You closed the mystery book you were reading and carefully placed it on the table next to the tub. "Happy now, you little baby?"
Ranpo's lips stretched into a grin, his vivid green eyes meeting yours "Very much sugar cube. Now don't you want to hear how the world's greatest detective solved today's mistery?"
You crossed your arms over your chest and returned an enthusiastic smile "Go on. I'm all ears"
"So there was this guy that was planning to bomb three diners, right? And he sent us a note this morning announcing the time of the attacks and stating that we will never be able to guess the locations. Of course, Kunikida panicked because we only had three hours to find and disarm the bombs but I saw right through it. This whole charade was only meant to distract us from the real plan: the robbery of a bank. So silly, he really thought was going to get away with it" He spoke with such an unshakeable confidence that you could barely contain the proud smile that rose to your lips "So then we took care of the bombs and prevented the robbery. Quite an easy day I could say"
"You know Ranpo, sometimes I wonder how you do it" you chuckled lightly.
He pointed at his head with the lollipop he was eating, his eyes gleaming with mischief "It's all up here darling"
You gestured him to give you the candy but when he extended his arm you seized his wrists, yanking him forward; he fell on top of you, the sudden motion causing some water to spill on the ground. "Aha I got you now!" you exclaimed excitedly.
"What was that for?" he whined, wiping the bubbles off his face with the back of his hand.
Just as he was cleaning his eyes your fingers slid through his hair and grabbed a fistful of it, pulling him into a passionate kiss. A moan escaped Ranpo's lips as he returned the kiss, his arms resting on the edge of the tub for support. (You knew how fond your boyfriend was of such saccharine affections.)
When you eventually pulled away he rested his head on your chest and began kneading the plush of your hips. "My o my I didn't know you liked my stories this much. I'll make sure to tell you more" he teased
"You're amazing darling. But I'd really like to finish my chapter now. Do you mind if I read?"
Ranpo hummed against your chest and you started running your fingers through his brown locks to give him something to focus on. With your free hand you picked up the book, struggling a bit to flip through the pages.
You have been reading for roughly ten minutes when your boyfriend suddenly mumbled something.
"What's that, dear? I didn't catch it?"
Ranpo straightened himself and looked you dead in the eyes before repeating what he just said.
"The main character dies at the end. Her cousin kills her because she'd been embezzling large sums from their company and the main character found out. She didn't want the secret to come out, you know?"
"You little-" you yelled, tossing a handful of foam at him. Ranpo only laughed, leaning in to capture your lips in a quick kiss. "Don't deny it sugar. You love me"
"You bet I do. But your ultra deduction really spoils the fun sometimes."
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barblaz-arts · 26 days
Note
Fellow Chaggie shipper, here and I wanted to ask you a question. Could you please do an analysis post on the Chaggie argument from Hello Rosie. I know this will sound weird but I can't get over the level of icy anger Charlie had towards Vaggie or how despite everything going on, Charlie is more hurt from Vaggie not being honest with her. Just angst all around.
Oh yeah sure I'd love to!
I'm not sure there's a lot I can say about that argument that isn't already super obvious, so I wanna talk about Charlie's anger because of something my brother said as we watched episode 7. He loved that episode apparently because "When they're separated, it's even more obvious that Charlie is the one who's more quick to lose her cool." Which, looking back, is actually true!(To an extent)
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Vaggie and Charlie are both quite quick to anger. Charlie is just better at hiding it because she's a chronic people pleaser. Although Charlie wouldn't immediately show her anger at a person being a jerk to her specifically, she's immediately summoning fire and brimstone over anyone who hurts/insults her friends or the cause she's fighting for.
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Love this lil bit in "You Didn't Know". How Vaggie is the one telling Charlie to calm down, as if she knows what's about to happen. She knows that if she doesn't at least try to reel in her girl Charlie would be spitting literal fire at a goddamn seraphim.
It would seem like such a surprising role reversal, but if you look at all the times Charlie would lose it whenever Vaggie's not there to tell her "babe, chill", then it makes sense.
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But then when their fallout happens, Charlie's short temper is even more apparent. She calls Alastor an asshole to his face even though she considered choosing his support over her father's. She openly glares and rolls her eyes at Rosie when she jokes that her and Alastor look like an item even though she still kept things cordial with Valentino after he licked her arm. She flips the bird at some old lady even though she didn't take visible offense at all the demons that inserted their crude and rude selves in "Happy Day in Hell." While she was cold and subdued even when upset with Vaggie, she was explosive and in ur face when she was pissed at everyone else.
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Vaggie reigned in both the girl in Charlie who dreams a little too big and the demon who's waiting to lash out in flames. It really makes me wonder if there's a difference in the kind of person Charlie used to be before Vaggie. Before she had friends to be angry on behalf of and a person to calm her down. And then, in the wake of their argument, Charlie is left with a lot of anger that is easy to ignite.
But I love love love that despite all that anger, Charlie can't bring herself to deny that she loves Vaggie with all of her hurt heart.
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This little moment is one of my favorite parts in the series. My brother mentioned that this episode and episode three were his favorites because he liked the beats the dialogues followed. So he looked back--
(the man literally paused the episode to check the opening credits of ep 7 and 3. I was a little annoyed because I just wanted my Chaggie dammit! We'd make terrible youtube reactors with all the pausing and discussing mid-episode that we do...)
--and was satisfied to see that it was written by the same person, Ariel Ladensohn. Apparently she's in a sapphic relationship too and projected her own experiences whenever she wrote Vaggie and Charlie, and it must have paid off because the moments she wrote with them felt so real.
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Charlie expressing her fear that even Vaggie's support and love could also be part of the lies she told was understandable considering the betrayal she felt. But immediately following that she goes "Oh that's a horrible to thing to think!" which I love even more. Even when she's understandably mad she thinks about how Vaggie would feel over Charlie thinking that of her. Because although Vaggie lied about who she is, Vaggie was always sincere about how she felt for Charlie. Vaggie's past may have been a lie, but the things she did for, to, and on behalf of Charlie were very real and held dear in Charlie's heart.
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I dont have anything smart to say to conclude this. Sorry, I'm not even sure where I went here. Let's all just appreciate the smile Charlie has on her face when she thinks about Vaggie even when she's under a lot of stress I guess.
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xo-cori · 7 months
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as sweet as the sound
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pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader
summary: she’s undeniably talented, but your girlfriend is just a bit too self-critical of her work.
warnings: smut (MDNI), fingersucking, ellie is a filthy bottom idc, they’re a lil high but who isn’t in this economy
a/n: inspired by the piano scene in duck butter… iykyk. title from “to noise making (sing)” by hozier ofc
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Every movement of her fingers against the frets of her guitar has your heart doing flips inside your chest.
She plays an unfamiliar melody. One you’re sure she’s come up with on the spot, which is something she seems to be doing a lot lately. It’s adorable, the way she looks up at you every few seconds to see that captivated expression on your face. Not once has it faltered, and it’s become her biggest inspiration.
You’re sat against the headboard, legs crossed as you watch her from where she sits; right in the middle of the bed, guitar in her lap with a laser-sharp focus.
It doesn’t matter what the next day holds. It doesn’t matter what’s happened every day before this one. The world has gone to madness, but none of that matters here in this dim cocoon of music and smoke.
You reach over to the bedside table so you can press the end of the joint into the ash tray, putting out the flames so that you can set it down. “Sounds so pretty, Els,” you say. “Haven’t heard you sing tonight, though.”
She stops playing for a moment, eyes widening at your words. “Oh– uh, I don’t have anything to sing.” She admits. “It’s been a hot minute since I’ve written something good, actually.”
“You’ve been doing improv all night. What’s different about singing?” You ask.
“The difference is, I suck at improv.” She replies, which makes you roll your eyes.
“Well, I haven’t noticed any mistakes.” You say.
“Because you don’t know the difference between a B sharp and a B flat.” She laughs. “What, you aren’t satisfied with my performance?”
You shake your head. “Oh, I’m satisfied. Just a little underwhelmed.”
She seems taken aback by this, which leads you to let out a quiet laugh. “Joking. I have an idea, though.”
Ellie’s ready to ask about this idea until you begin crawling towards her. The words die in her throat as you place your hands on her knees, leaning over her guitar, then pressing your lips to hers. It’s soft; something simple and loving, though it makes her body feel unbearably hot.
Then, much to her disappointment, you pull back. “What are you doing?” She asks.
“Nothing. Just keep playing.” You instruct her, even though her hands are frozen in place as you continue to crawl until you’re sat on your knees behind her. She feels your warm breath on her neck, the way you press up against her back, and it’s all too much for her to take in at once. “I told you to keep playing,” you whisper right next to her ear.
Hesitantly, Ellie strums a random chord. Then another, and a few more. You wait for her to get back into a rhythm before you slowly run your hands up her waist, under her sweatshirt. Her breath hitches. Suddenly, the guitar sounds like it hasn’t been tuned in years. You don’t seem to mind, though, because it only gets worse when your lips find the crook of her neck. She leans back into you and lets out a shaky sigh. “You’re the worst.” She huffs.
“I’m just making you sing.” You reply.
Your fingers explore the familiar plain of skin as your lips suck bruises right beneath her jaw. Each time the music pauses, she notices, you slow down; and she doesn’t like this one bit, so she does her best to keep playing.
This relentless teasing only continues for a minute or two, but to Ellie, it feels like hours. It really isn’t long before one of your hands finally slip past her stomach until your palm meets the plush skin of her breast. Her fingers flex and falter against the neck of the guitar as you caress her, your other hand quickly coming up to join in on the fun. There’s no sound from Ellie but a gasp, which just isn’t good enough for you.
Her back arches up against you as you take her nipple between your thumb and forefinger, knowing just how sensitive she is and using it to your advantage. This earns you a hushed whimper, your cue to keep going, because you’ve heard just how loud she can be. The guitar doesn’t seem to be making much noise, though.
“Ellie.” You warn, and she immediately strums another note, no longer caring which one (or whether it’s a note at all). It’s not like you’d notice. She’s only terrified that you’ll stop otherwise. As a reward, you begin to roll both of her nipples between your fingers and her mouth falls open into a perfect ‘o’, head falling back against your shoulder.
“Please,” she whines, “please touch me.”
“I am touching you.” You smirk. The guitar is starting to sound worse and worse. “Why? You want more?”
She hums a desperate mm-hmm, and though you’d like to make her beg a little harder, you’re starting to get pretty eager yourself. “Okay.” You give in. “But remember– you stop playing, I stop touching you.”
You don’t wait for any type of response before you’re sliding your right hand down past the waistband of her boxers, wasting no time to find its favorite spot between her legs. She’s already soaked, you think, and it’s a nice boost for your ego. “Fuck,” she groans as your middle finger draws tight circles over her clit. You can feel her muscles tensing, as if she’s struggling to keep her thighs from closing around your hand with the guitar in her way. Finally, you listen as she lets out a soft string of moans, every one unintentionally melodic.
You press a kiss beneath her ear, left hand still shamelessly groping at her chest. “So sensitive tonight,” you coo, “maybe you have a thing for multitasking.”
“Shut up– holy shit,” Ellie pants out, visibly struggling to keep a firm grasp of the guitar. She wants nothing more than to throw this old piece of wood on the ground, but she won’t; only because you’ve told her not to.
Slowly, your fingers slide down through her folds until you can slip them right inside of her. There’s no resistance– quite the opposite, actually– her warm walls clench down and suck you in further. It’s almost pathetic how loudly she moans when you curl your fingers upwards. You can feel the shiver that goes down her spine as you immediately zero in on that one spot with each gentle thrust, while the pad of your thumb attacks her clit. Neither of you can hear the guitar anymore, despite each unpleasant sound it makes.
“Let me stop,” Ellie pleads. “Please, let me stop playing?”
“But you know how much I love your songs,” you say, a fake tone of disappointment in your voice. “I didn’t say you could stop, so I don’t know why you’re asking.”
“I know– fuck, I-I’m sorry–“ She’s cut off by a particularly loud moan, and you don’t even try to hide the laugh that escapes you. As an apology, though, you bring your lips back to her neck and lick a long stripe from her collarbone up to her jaw.
It’s all too much, all at once, and sheer panic runs through Ellie’s body. Each chord she plays is drawn out with a long pause between, as if she keeps forgetting the demand she’s been given. With your hands all over and your hot mouth right on her pulse point, she can’t help the way her body curls back into you. “Gonna cum,” she gasps. “Can I? Please?”
You smile against her neck. “Already?”
Normally, she’d get frustrated by your teasing, but it seems that she doesn’t really process your words. She just nods and lets out another beautiful moan.
Then, you take your hand out of her sweatshirt so you can grab her guitar and toss it to the other side of the bed. Ellie whimpers in relief as you speed up your thrusts and take the lobe of her ear between your teeth. “Go ahead,” you hum.
That’s all the permission she needs. Her hand comes down to cup yours over the dampened fabric of her boxers, an attempt to keep you right there like she’s afraid you’ll pull away. “Fuck, oh my god, thank you,” Ellie cries out, thighs finally clamping down onto your hand, though your pace doesn’t falter. You work her through her orgasm as she screws her eyes shut and takes a white-knuckled grip of the bedsheets. Her body shudders and, after a few long moments, melts right into yours.
You don’t slow down until she weakly grabs at your wrist, though she doesn’t fight when you go back to gently rubbing at her clit. It’s slow, enough to calm her through the aftershocks while you listen to her hoarse whimpers and sighs. She’s gone completely limp against you now, focusing on keeping still as she fights off the urge to tug your hand away completely. “There we go,” you smile.
Finally, you remove your hand from her boxers– but you aren’t done with her yet. Without another word, you slip your coated fingers past her lips, which close around your knuckles with no hesitation. Her tongue licks you clean as she moans at the lingering taste of herself. It feels as though all of her bones have turned to dust, though you don’t seem to mind. This only lasts for a few seconds before you take your fingers out of her mouth so that you can wrap your arms around her. “That was a hell of a performance.” You tell her.
“Fuck you.” She breathes. “Never do that again.”
“But you liked it so much.” You point out. “You’ve never cum that fast.”
Despite how hard she tries to seem upset, she can’t stop the smile that breaks through to her face. “Yeah, actually,” she admits, tilting her head to look at you. “I’ve sang better, though.”
“I know. Just wish you weren’t so shy,” you say.
“I’m not shy,” she mumbles.
“You’re shy and stubborn.” You add, but before she can come up with some sleepy retaliation, you’re leaning down to kiss her, and she swears she gets the same sparks that she did when you kissed her for the first time. One of her hands come up to the nape of your neck as her lips lazily move against yours, trying her best with very little energy. So, you’re quick to pull away before she can try to turn it into something more. “Let’s lay down, baby. You’ve got patrol in the morning.”
“Fuck patrol,” she grunts, lifting her head to pepper kisses across your cheek.
“Yeah,” you agree, “fuck patrol.”
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shiny-jr · 1 month
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✦ damnation [ the vizier's vassal ]
– Summary: When you commit a crime, you receive a punishment. This is especially true in your society. No matter the crime, your punishment is the same: banishment. But to where you will be sent in exile and how miserable will it be? No one knows, because no one has ever returned.
– Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.
– Characters: Kalim Al-Asim, Jamil Viper.
– Note: Please enjoy this post! Hopefully everything is okay, since I just copy and pasted from the quiz and skimmed.
– Pages: 42
– Not satisfied? Try looking here for the quiz to take it yourself and see where you end up banished!
The Diviner   |   The Vizier's Vassal   |   The Raven Retainer
Feathers. Colorful feathers tickled your nose. A woven shawl sat on your shoulders with vibrant colors and macaw feathers along the clip that held it in place above your collarbone. As your vision readjusted to the scenery, you could make out an old desert city stretching out as far as the eye could see, until it met over the horizon with the starry night sky. It was nothing like the court you were in moments ago. Instantly everything came flashing back to you, the trial, the judges, your punishment. This was your punishment. “Holy shit.” 
“Is something wrong?” 
You looked to the side, surprised to see a servant placing a tray beside you. You were on a balcony, a beautiful grand spacious terrace where the arches were decorated with ivy and walls of flowers while pillars of flames provided light and there was a large water fountain in the center. You were laying on the edge of that fountain, when you pushed yourself up and looked around. That’s when you noticed your clothes had changed too. Somehow your simple change of clothes from before had become easy-to-move-in loose trousers and a simple tunic, but with the colorful shawl over your shoulders that resembled wings. “What? What the hell?” 
“Is there something wrong with the food?” 
Food? You looked down at the tray the servant had brought, surprised to see a plate of kofta with a chalice of water. The delicious smell wafted in the air, making your mouth water and stomach grumble. How long has it been since you ate? Probably well before you were arrested. If you got food, you were expecting cold slop, not this scrumptious meal that was cooked to perfection. Instantly you snatched it up, assuring the servant, “No, no, forget it! This is fine, uh, thanks…!” 
“Very well.” They bowed their head to you, “Please, enjoy the meal, vassal.” 
Vassal? You stopped mid-bite, about to ask them about it and where you were, but they had already taken off. Well, you weren’t complaining. You had thought you were going to die, or end up in some horrible hell. This place was actually quite nice. You could feel the breeze of the cool desert air and smell the flora growing on this terrace, you heard the city below with the crackling of fire from the pillars and the running water beside you, not to mention you were eating the best food you ever tasted! If this was hell, then being banished might be the best thing that’s ever happened to you! 
“You! Jamil’s vassal!” 
There it was again. What the hell did they mean by vassal? Your cheeks were stuffed with food you had shoveled into your mouth, as you slowly and awkwardly turned around to face whoever called you. Who was Jamil? You had no idea. A little annoyed that your dinner was interrupted, you eyed the approaching stranger up and down before swallowing your food and muttering, “What do you want?”
Appearing offended at your response, the young man stomped up to you, closer so you could see him better in the dim lighting. He looks a little young, if you had to guess, you’d say the guy was no younger than eighteen. Sharp blue eyes and long thick black hair styled into a single braid, not to mention he wasn’t smiling. This was no servant judging by the expensive looking blue garbs he wore and the gold on his bronze ears that complimented his handsome face. It had to be someone of high standing. When he was right in front of you, he frowned down at you and placed his hands on his hips, “Where is Jamil? And where is my cousin?” 
You lowered your plate of food, squinting incredulously at this stranger. Who did he think he was? Jamil? Cousin? “Your cousin…? Jamil…? How should I know?” 
“You should know. As the vizier’s only vassal, you should know where Jamil is. That is your job, to serve him. Or is he slithering about in places he shouldn’t be?” As his blue eyes bore down at you, he continued his tirade, “You haven’t bowed your head or greeted me as everyone does, by saying, good day, Prince Jaseer. And you’re here slacking off while everyone else in the palace is dutifully working.” 
“I’m on a lunch break.” You mumbled in reply, tempted to snap. Wait… had he said prince…? A beautiful royal in blue wearing gold, with long black hair, who is spirited and no-nonsense, like a princess in a fantasy tale. A princess that lived in a palace just like this one, where there was a vizier and sultan–– oh fuck. How was that possible? This was like a stupid kid’s story you heard all the time! Before you could ponder on the topic, you were reminded of who was in front of you by him cleaning his throat. You immediately bowed your head sloppily, begrudgingly, as you recited the words he wanted to hear. “Good day, Prince Jaseer…” 
At your less-than-satisfactory response, he crossed his arms over his chest and replied still with that frown, “If you can’t answer my question, then there’s no use talking to you. I’ll find someone who can tell me where my cousin and Jamil are. Let it be known, I have my eye on you and your master. My cousin may be fond of you both, but I am not.” 
When you slowly lifted your head, you watched the prince storm away, likely to go find his cousin, whoever that was, and the vizier, this Jamil guy. As soon as he turned a corner, you scrunched your nose and scoffed, “Brat.” 
Wait… that meant this was a story. It was all too similar to a story that began much like: it begins on a dark night, where a dark man waits with a dark purpose. If this was that story then what were you…? Apparently working for the vizier, wearing a shawl of rainbows, and feathers… oh my god, you were the fucking parrot. As you resumed your eating you busied your mind with processing these thoughts. “At least the tax collector can’t find me here.”
All you knew was that you were in the role of his parrot, his pet. What a stupid role to end up in! In this version you hoped you were at least some sort of glorified servant! At least you weren’t dead, this was much better than that. You knew the tale of Aladdin by heart, it was a very popular story growing up. You had even envied the protagonist, a thief, for ending up with a genie and winning the love of the princess. Turns out that princess, or prince in this case, was not all that. Well, they always say to never meet your heroes. But, there was one thing that was bound to be great, no matter how much this story would change. The magic lamp that held the genie. You wanted it. Maybe if you stuck around this vizier long enough, you could take it for yourself whenever the opportunity presented itself. You had the advantage, you knew exactly what was going to happen. That genie could grant any of your wishes! It could take you home if you wanted. You could make all those judges rue the day they banished you! You could rule this world and yours! You could bathe in an endless amount of gold and cash! The possibilities were endless! 
As you finished your meal, another figure came into view. The figure of a guard, like the ones you’ve been watching patrol and march around, approached you nervously. Only when he noticed you glance at him and nod your head, did he begin speaking, “G-Good evening, vassal. The candidates, they’re ready for the vizier, he’ll be here any moment. You are the only one he trusts, everyone knows this, won’t you put in a kind word for me? I fear he’s in a foul mood, his venture to the cave in the desert didn’t end well again.” 
Candidates? Vizier? Cave in the desert? After a few seconds of the guard waiting in anticipation, you were able to connect the dots. This must’ve been a specific rendition of the story where the vizier found the Cave of Wonders in the desert but instead of using a magic machine he created to find the diamond in the rough that could enter the cave, he used his power behind the scenes and in the dark to search through prisoners and criminals and send those he thought might be worthy to die trying to enter the mystic cave. This vizier, Jamil, would no doubt be growing frustrated since he’s likely been keeping at this for so long without finding a single person that can successfully enter the cave. Jumping off your seat on the fountain after finishing your last bite of food, you looked over to the guard and smiled, “Alright, let’s go. We can’t leave the master waiting, can we?”
“Of course! Allow me to lead the way.” So you followed the meek little guard, and as you trailed after him you thought about what would happen and what would you do. The guard had said that it was a fact that the vizier trusted only you, or rather, the person who you’ve replaced. The prince didn’t notice you were not the vassal, and neither did this guard or any of the other servants, so it was likely that no one would notice unless you slipped up, not even the Vizier Jamil. Hopefully. 
You watched as the pristine halls of the palace became dark and dim the deeper you went. As the smooth walls became rugged stone lit only by lamps of fire, and the lush green plants and overpriced furniture and decorations became absent. There were also, noticeably, less people. It felt like you and the guard were the only ones as you followed them deeper into what you guessed was a dungeon where you heard chains rattling and the echoing screams of those held captive. Before you could enter the room, the guard turned to you and pleaded, 
“Please, stay here. I’m sure seeing you will give the vizier a bit of peace. He should be here any second now. I will go ahead and be sure everything is in order.” 
Before you could even protest, the guard scurried ahead to the end of the hall and not too long after, you detected footfall behind you. When you turned around, you saw what you presumed had to be the Vizier Jamil. The vizier looked sort of imposing as he appeared from the dimly lit halls, and with the flames on the wall you could just make out his appearance. A thin figure clothed in red and black robes decorated with gold, holding a golden staff that ended in the shape of a cobra’s head. Long thin hair as black as night coiled down his brown shoulders like snakes in multiple small braids and loose strands decorated with gold, and instantly his sharp gray eyes painted with eyeshadow darted over to you upon noticing your staring. He looked irked, but since you supposedly had a good relationship with him, maybe you could poke and prod without worrying about suffering any consequences. From what you recalled, the vizier’s parrot in the tales was a loud-mouthed creature with a bad temper. 
“Welcome back, oh great vizier. So, how did it go?” 
“Not a word.” The vizier hissed, sending you a glare. Yet it wasn’t threatening, it felt more… annoyed. Like when your friend was pestering you, except without the light-heartedness. At least he didn’t snap, he did have the power to command you to be put to death. Yet all he did was give you a look before his frown instantly morphed into a stoic expression in the blink of an eye, so fast that it sent you reeling.
Jamil wasted no time in walking forward, not bothering with greetings as he entered the first room of the dungeon that was dingy and dirty. Inside was the guard from before, nervously standing off to the side just across from a line of prisoners in shackles with their heads hanging low, and more guards behind them. These prisoners reminded you of yourself, but less. Now you’re free of any shackles, you’re wearing fine clothes and eating food made by the best chefs while living in the luxurious palace. To avoid being at the center of attention, you stood off to the side, leaning against a corner. Listening in could give more insight.
You watched intently, curiously, as Jamil approached the line of prisoners, scanning them all with those sharp eyes as he walked by them slowly. The men and women in rags and chains tensed when he stepped near, but kept their eyes glued to the ground. Whether it was out of respect or fear, you weren’t sure, but you watched as some of them squirmed in place or nervously glanced at him. After a minute of going down the line of a dozen or so prisoners, he stopped in his tracks and turned to face the guard who guided you. On his face was obvious disappointment. 
“You bring me the rough, but never a diamond.” That cold stare of his remained on the anxious guard, never looking away even as he commanded the others, “Take them away.” 
You purse your lips and shake your head, watching as the other guards forcefully dragged the prisoners down another hall, to a fate unknown. Poor suckers. You could hear them pleading, begging the vizier for mercy from whatever end they knew awaited them. In one rendition of the story, when the princess snuck out of the palace and gave apples to poor children, apples she had no money on her to pay for, she nearly lost her hand as punishment. It was likely that these prisoners were about to lose much more than a single hand.
The meek guard sent you a pleading look as they whispered frantically, “You said you would put in a kind word for me…!” 
Turning your attention to them, you scoffed, “I never said that. I said I would follow you.” 
“You…!” At your shrug, he directed his sights towards the vizier who was walking away, his back toward him as he seemed to be prepared to follow the guards and prisoners going elsewhere within the dungeon. “Please, my vizier.” The vizier stopped, and the words were caught in the guard’s throat until he finally forced them out with wavering uncertainty, making it sound more like a question than a statement. “... Perhaps this diamond in the rough does not exist…?” 
For a moment he paused but didn’t turn around, and quietly replied, “They’re out there.” A response with unwavering certainty. 
“But we’ve searched for months!” It appears that the guard was showing signs of frustration as well. Who knows how many prisoners they’ve interrogated and how many criminals they’ve captured in these months, all in an attempt to satisfy the vizier’s wish of finding a diamond in the rough. “I do not understand what could possibly be in that cave that could help a… a man as great as you. You are already second only to the sultan!”
“Second? Uh-oh.” You exclaimed, bracing yourself for what was to come and ignoring the guard’s growing irritation towards you. In the tale, yes the vizier worked for the sultan, he was the sultan’s most trusted advisor. But, behind the vizier’s facade of charm and loyalty, there was only a burning hate for the sultan who believed in him. The vizier wished to be the most powerful man in the kingdom, second to no one. So to be told he was second, straight to his face, would be like a slap. You watched as Jamil turned to the guard with a deep frown, and you could only whistle, “Who’s in trouble now~?” 
Jamil turned to face him fully, staring at the guard beneath him with such a disdainful gaze before questioning firmly, “Do you believe second is enough?”
Without hesitation, they nodded, the answer to them was obvious. “Yes. You were not born to be sultan, you are not of royal lineage. His Majesty, Kalim Al-Asim, was born to be sultan.” 
Kalim Al-Asim. So that was the sultan’s name. The mere mention of him was enough to tick off the vizier. He narrowed his eyes and began to speak in a quiet murmur, “Do you know that I’ve served him my entire life? From the day I was born, they dictated that I was a servant to him and they chained my entire existence so it depended on him.” Slowly he stepped forward, inching closer with every word he spat like venom. “You have no idea of the things I’ve been forced to do for him. The sacrifices I’ve made and blood that’s stained my hands, the bodies I’ve buried and times I’ve watched him be praised for his minimal efforts I can easily best.” The closer he got, the more frightened the guard appeared until he was right in front of them. “Everyone will one day learn that I am not worthy of a mere second place, I am supposed to be first. That’s why I need the lamp, and I no longer need you––!” 
Right before your eyes, you watched as Jamil swiftly struck him with the bottom of his staff and he fell backwards into a well. A seemingly bottomless well, because you heard his scream growing distant until an unsettling silence lingered. You covered your mouth in shock, but Jamil paid you no mind. It’s as if he’s done a dozen times before, as if you had witnessed all of them before. 
After a moment, he sighed and lowered his staff, regaining his composure to cover up for the anger that slipped through in that moment. Again, in a flash, he had a stoic expression as he turned to gaze at you in the corner, when he beckoned you closer with a motion of his finger. “Come here, my vassal. It’s time for a meeting with that irritating sultan.” 
Now you were on your way to meet the sultan. Kalim. You hoped he wasn’t anything like Jamil. This vizier was to be feared, but at least he didn’t seem to mind you. So you probably won’t be pushed down a well anytime soon. As you followed him when he began walking, he questioned abruptly, 
“What did you do while I was gone?” 
This wasn’t good. You weren’t here for that long before he returned, and you got the feeling that Jamil was a particularly observant fellow judging by how he glanced at you from the corner of his eyes. “That royal brat confronted me while I was eating. They’re so annoying.” 
“Ah, Prince Jaseer?” Slowly he nodded, as if agreeing with your words. Phew. You were doing alright, fitting the role just fine it seemed. “Annoying would be putting it lightly. He’s just another entitled royal born with a golden spoon in his mouth, an ignorant person who knows nothing of how the real world works.” 
“You’re telling me. The guy made me bow and recite a greeting like I was nothing but a pleb beneath him! Then he had the gall to say I was lazy! I was eating! Can’t a person like me eat in peace once in a while? I was starving!” 
By now you were in a better part of the palace, where you were once again surrounded by riches. Upon hearing your response, Jamil replied without hesitation, “You are lazy when I’m not around.” At his remark, you stared at him incredulously as he continued with zero reservations, “You are uncaring, murderous, deceitful, aggressive, cunning, and annoying.” 
Unable to help it, you snapped back in reply, beginning to rant and list off your fingers. “ME? Look in the mirror bud, you just basically described yourself! You’re cruel, immoral, narcissistic, power-hungry, sadistic, and secretly deranged! You're a two-faced, snake!” When you looked over to him, he still had that stoic expression but he rolled his eyes. Your jaw dropped. There was no way he just fucking–– 
“You used that insult, two-faced snake, two weeks ago.” Before you could add anything more to the growing pile of insults, he lightly tapped your forehead with the cobra head of his golden staff, appearing unbothered. “Come up with something else or get on my level, then you can talk back. For now, be quiet. We’re nearing where Kalim wanted to meet us. I don’t need to remind you to be on your best behavior around the sultan.” 
Rubbing your forehead, you glared at him and mumbled, “Oh, I’ll come up with something shocking, you sorry sack of––ACK!” You coughed, bending over in pain as he quickly jabbed the end of his staff against your stomach to shut you up just before a silk curtain separating the halls from a room opened up. 
“Jamil! Oh, and your vassal too! I’m so happy to see you guys! You’re just the ones I wanted to see!” 
You had to squint just to look past the stranger’s bright beaming smile. It was a young man, just a bit shorter than Jamil, yet he was dressed in finer garbs than the vizier. The bright pearly-white smile matched some of his odd white strands of hair that poked out past the silk cloth messily tied around his head, the turban he must’ve usually wore to show his high status was off to the side beside a model of the entire city. The energy in his red eyes was just as bright as his smile, but even brighter than that was the gleaming golden accessories glittering over his tawny brown complexion. Golden rings and jewels over his fingers, gold buttons stitched onto his silk clothes, even the tiniest patterns on those silk garbs looked shiny enough to be real gold. So much gold–– 
Jamil wore a charming devilish smile, but once this Kalim looked away for a second, he quickly slapped your hand as soon as you lifted it, sending you a warning glare, as if saying, do not touch. You glared right back, but as soon as Kalim returned his attention to the two of you again, he pleaded, “I could really use your help, Jamil! You’re the person I can trust the most!” 
“You have always placed your trust in me, and I’ve never failed to deliver.” He replied smoothly with a bow of his head. Damn, he was really good at lying. It was a teensy bit concerning. 
“It’s all this suitor thing with Jaseem!” Kalim exclaimed, beginning to lay down his worries, “You know I promised I would take care of my cousin before his parents passed, I promised them to help him find a wife when he got older. And now, well, he’s older! I don’t remember it being nearly this hard when I had to marry.” 
The vizier followed Kalim as he continued to rant and bemoan, stepping beside him as they stopped in front of various shelves of scrolls and books and tables of documents and knick-knacks. Meanwhile, you followed closely behind, reminding yourself not to input anything or risk gaining suspicion. Once Kalim was finished, only then did Jamil respond casually, “To be fair, your marriage didn’t last long due to… unfortunate circumstances. I’m afraid Prince Jaseer is different. He’s already met ten times the suitresses you ever did. Your standards are nowhere near as high as the prince’s.” 
“Pfft…” You slapped your hand over your mouth, going quiet as both Jamil and Kalim looked over at you. Fuck, you were in trouble now, weren’t you? 
Kalim blinked before joining in on the shameless laughter, lifting the mood substantially. “You’re right, I never had this problem. It honestly didn’t take a lot to impress me! Oh, have you eaten today? You should totally try these cheese and sauces on crackers! They’re my favorite snack right now! Here!” 
You held up your hands in defense, “Wait, a minute. Actually, maybe–– mmph!” You nearly choked as he abruptly stuffed a handful of the crunchy saltines in your mouth, and he placed his other hand to pat your back so you couldn’t step away. 
The sultan grinned as you were forced to swallow the food. That’s when he held up more, and urged, “It’s good, isn’t it? You should try more! Hey, you can even have dinner with me if you want! The more the merrier, right?” Before you could even input anything, Kalim shouted loud enough so the servants outside could hear him, “Keep the snacks coming! And make sure to have an extra seat for later! I’d like to eat dinner on the balcony tonight with Jamil’s vassal! Make sure to serve the best, most delicious dishes we have to offer!” 
“Hah, you have such a kindness that extends to everyone, don’t you, Kalim? Even to the dense little attendants.” 
You shot the vizier a glare at his not-so-subtle jab directed towards you. The only reason you didn’t say anything to his face was because you still had a mouthful of crackers that you could barely swallow without gagging. 
Clearing his throat, his soft laughter stopped as he resumed his professional attitude and he was back to business. “Now then, allow me to divine a solution to this pesky problem. As well as take care of… the work you often leave in my care. As per usual.” When you glanced at him, the moment Kalim spun on his heel to catch up with the slowly moving vizier is when you noticed the dark haired man’s annoyance that flashed for a second. “However, I will be needing access to the restricted area of the library, to look at the ancient texts of laws and such. You understand, don’t you?” 
“The restricted section? The one reserved only for me and other members of the royal family?” The young man tilted his head, appearing a bit apprehensive as he tapped his finger against his chin in thought. “I dunno, Jamil. Normally I’d let you, but I think that’s against the rules. There’s a lot of secrets hidden there.” 
“It’s necessary for us to continue.” Lifting his golden staff, he nonchalantly examined its enchanting ruby red eyes before his fingers slid across the smooth golden surface and he turned it so the cobra head was gazing right at the sultan. A slight sly smile grew on his face as he hummed, “Don’t worry, everything will be fine.” 
You watched with intrigued, both fascinated and horrified as he pressed the end of his staff against the ground and leaned the cobra head forwards, causing the sultan to stiffen up and go oddly silent. That’s when you realized it was happening. Jamil was using his powers to hypnotize and manipulate the sultan, just like in the stories. 
The sultan’s own red eyes mirrored the rubies of the staff, but quickly his smile dropped into a blank expression as held a staring contest with the cobra head. As if in a trance, he quietly repeated the words spoken to him. “––Everything will be fine…” 
That smile on his face grew to a smirk as the vizier repeated his request, “Permission to use the restricted area of the library?” 
“Yes, Jamil…” Kalim remained unblinking. His once bright eyes full of life were now… empty. It’s like they were covered with a mist. Slowly, robotically, he held up a blue diamond ring and spoke, “The key… Whatever you need will be fine.” 
Instantly he snatched it up, tucking the ring away safely within his robes as he thanked, “You are most gracious, my liege. Now, run along and have fun, enjoy your dinner. Hm?” 
“Yes…” 
With a swish of his cloak, Jamil began to walk away and you trailed behind him as Kalim stayed in the room, mindlessly gazing out the window. As soon as you were past the curtains and saw no one else present, Jamil’s professionalism dropped and he rolled his eyes, wearing an annoyed frown. You spat out the crackers you couldn’t swallow, it left crumbs in your mouth and salt that burned the roof of your mouth but at least now you were able to speak your mind a little more freely. “I can’t take it! If he tried to stuff one more cracker in my face, I’m was gonna––!” 
“Calm yourself, my vassal.” Jamil replied, his expression less refined and now just a resting bitch face. Turning to you, he stopped and instructed, “I will go scour that private area of the library to see what secrets it may hide. The key to our troubles may very well be hidden among those carefully guarded secrets. You will stay here.”
You gawked. “Me?”
“Yes, you.” Pressing a pointed finger against your shoulder, he continued his instructions, “Keep that halfwitted idiot busy, stay for dinner as he wants. Have a little tea party with him if it amuses him. Afterwards, I expect to see you back within my tower. I’d prefer you not stay around Kalim for longer than necessary, especially because his ignorance may rub off on you. Or has it already?” 
“Haha, yeah, sure, laugh it up. Very funny.” You scowled at his grin, watching as he turned to leave. “Have fun doing that lame boring reading! I’m gonna enjoy this time off eating until I can’t take another bite!” Once he was out of sight, you spat, “Jerk.” And promptly returned back inside beside the sultan. 
When you found him, he was still gazing out the window with those empty eyes. The hypnotic technique continued to last for a few seconds even after Jamil took his leave. However, thankfully, after waving your hand in front of his face and lightly slapping his cheeks, he was beginning to regain consciousness. “Hey, you! Kalim–– er… sultan, wake up.” 
Kalim blinked repetitively, the hazy mist in his gaze disappearing until his eyes were bright and red like polished rubies once again. As if awaking from a deep sleep, he groaned and pressed his cheek against your hand, not fully realizing what was happening until he blinked again and looked up at you. “What…? What happened? Ah, I’m sorry, I zoned out again…!” Despite realizing how close you two were, he made no effort to move. Was he that trusting or that stupid? “Where’s Jamil?” 
“He’s busy. Had to go back to work, uh… sultan.” You were a little upset that he’d leave you with this odd little ruler, but you couldn’t complain too much when you’d get to have your fill of food. 
“Ooooh, okay then! And please, you can just call me Kalim! Any friend of Jamil’s is a friend of mine.” He hummed, taking your hands as soon as you stepped away and lowered them away from his face. “I’m so happy to finally get to spend time with you! Jamil is always so hardworking and you are too! I mean, you’re always helping him, and he seems to trust you a lot and that’s saying something because he hardly trusts anyone! So I’ve never gotten to really talk this much to you until now! This is a little exciting, isn’t it? Come on!” Without warning, he began to tug you along, apparently forgetting the exchange from earlier. So he really didn’t remember that he had been hypnotized. As he dragged you along outside of the rooms and down the pristine extensive hallways, he continued, “I wanna know all about you! Our dinner should be ready by now! And what better way to get to know someone than over dinner? What kind of food do you like? What’s your favorite drink? Oh! And we can’t forget dessert!” 
Suddenly you were out on the balcony where you first gained consciousness, it was still dark out. It all happened so quickly, in a flash you were seated on a long plush chaise lounge draped with numerous pillows and blankets. In a rush, the servants came out, setting out tables and trays filled to the brim with food until you were surrounded by mounds of food that all smelled so delectable. Before you could even think of something to say, Kalim was already piling food on your plate, making it so high that it resembled a small mountain. 
“Eat as much as you want! Oh, try this! And this too! And you gotta have a little of this! Dinner is one of my favorite times of the day, because you get to relax with someone, whether it be family, a friend, or a complete stranger, and talk about anything!” 
There was so much on your plate that you almost struggled to peek over it just to see the face of the sultan. Yeah you wanted food, but this was too much even for you… As the young man explained what dish was what, you glanced behind your shoulder at the servants transporting trays and pitchers. Your eyes narrowed, but you pretended to pay attention to the sultan by nodding at whatever he said, as you watched out of the corner of your eye. One servant carrying another silver tray, leaned forward to place it on the table, while his other arm was folded at his midsection. His body had been covering your view of the pitcher, but once he stepped back and began to walk away, you noticed the liquid fizzing for a moment and became an odd color before the solution dissolved to blend in with the beverage. That substance he slipped into the drink… was he trying to poison the sultan?
Your eyes followed the servant as he turned on his heel and began to retreat towards the kitchen. Narrowing your gaze, you interrupted Kalim while he was going on about some story of him having dinner with other royals, when you blurted out, “Hey, you.” 
It went quiet, the sultan appeared confused and leaning over to get a better look at what you were glaring at while all the servants froze in their tracks. 
“Yeah, you with the stupid face and red sash. I’m talking to you. What the hell were you slipping in that drink? You sure have guts to be doing that in front of me. Either that or you're brain-dead.” 
Everyone tensed up at your implication, the guards nearby honing in on the servant with the red sash around their waist. Immediately they had them restrained, one of the head guards ripped off his sash to remove a suspicious vial with some liquid still left in it. Despite the servant’s panicked squirming in the hold of the soldiers, the head guard turned towards the sultan, holding up the vial and nodding in affirmation, “Your Majesty, it is poison…” 
“Again?” Kalim sighed somberly, slowly gripping onto your sleeve. 
Again? What the hell did he mean by again? How many times did this usually happen? As if on cue, the remaining servants rushed in to remove all the food that had been brought. Now, they would have to double check everything to make sure nothing else was poisoned. Without even being told, the armored men escorted away the frightened servant that had failed to harm the sultan. Instantly the area was cleared, save for extra guards further away but still close enough to watch. 
After a few seconds, the realization of something appeared to dawn on the sultan’s face as he gripped your sleeve tighter and peered up at you with wide sparkling red eyes. “You… You saved me! I knew it! You are trustworthy! Wait, what am I talking about? Of course you’re trustworthy, Jamil trusts you, but this just confirms it! I might’ve been poisoned if you hadn’t said anything! You are a good person, just like I thought! You see, I’m a great judge of character so I knew that you were good from the moment I met you!” 
You resisted the urge to laugh at his choice of words about you being a good person. At first you thought of letting it happen, but if the sultan were to die now, that would rush things along. Prince Jaseer would inherit the throne if he gets married quick enough, and then he would definitely get rid of you and Jamil. Then, you’d be poor and powerless on the streets, or worse, dead. So what did you do? Call out the servant, duh. “It’s nothing, really.” 
Shaking his head in refusal, he continued to insist, “But it is something! Don’t be so modest. Everyone should know of what you did for me tonight! The whole kingdom deserves to know! You deserve a reward! If you need anything, just say it, and it's yours! Anything at all!” 
You couldn’t help but scoff, rolling your eyes as a semi-amused smile appeared on your face, “Don’t say that, I’m going to make you regret it.” You’d definitely rob him blind if you could. He would be such an easy target too, like stealing candy from a baby, if he wasn’t always being watched by a troop of guards twenty-four-seven. 
For a moment he was quiet, his red eyes analyzing your smile with surprise before he broke out into the brightest beaming expression that nearly made you shriek from being blinded. “But I mean it! I really do!” As his hands gripped your arm a little tighter, he noticed your colorful shawl. Curious, he began to trace his fingers across the woven shapes, entranced by the colors as he murmured in awe, “Woah, I really like your shawl. The feathers are pretty, and I love the colors! I think I might want something styled like that.” 
He was actually… strangely casual for a guy that was nearly poisoned. Then again, maybe it was a common thing for him. He was the most powerful man in the entire kingdom. “You like it that much?” You watched as he quickly nodded, to which you plucked one of the five long red feathers beside the clip of the shawl. Its red faded into blue, with one edge even tinted with the tiniest bit of yellow and green. “It’s the only thing keeping me from freezing right now, so I can only give you this. That way you can show it to your tailors or stylists or whatever you rich people have, and they know what you want.” It was totally not to distract him and get the sultan off your back so he’d let go of your arm. 
Kalim’s eyes widened as he swiftly reached out and gingerly took the feather in his hands. Those eyes of his looked at the feather with wonder, as if it was worth more than rubies or gold. Turning his wonder-filled expression up at you, he looked so joyful as he leaned forward and spoke, “Thank you…! I love it!” Then, his expression flattened a bit to a more solemn look as he glanced down at the feather he held tightly and back to you. His voice got even quieter so as to not be heard by anyone that may be in the halls nearby. “Since I trust you… can I tell you a secret…?” 
You deadpanned, turning your attention away to the scenery. “No.” 
“Whew, okay, here it goes…” Focusing on the feather, he quickly forced out, “I’ve never gotten a gift like this before…! There. I said it!” 
In that moment you stopped to squint at him, not believing a word he said. “Wait a second, you’re kidding, right? I mean, you’re sultan. You live in a giant palace, you have countless servants and soldiers, your kingdom is one of the most powerful and prosperous! Don’t lie to me, I bet you have people lining up to give you gifts everyday! Gifts of gold, jewels, all that fancy expensive stuff!” 
“I’m not lying! All of that is true, but… this gift is special!” Kalim immediately replied, only gripping the feather tighter as he explained, “I think gifts given on the spot, out of the goodwill of your heart, are way more valuable. Yeah, I get a lot of gifts, and I’m thankful! But it’s not the same! I will treasure this feather because it’s from you, and your kindness!” Eventually his gaze traveled down to your shawl, he was shivering a bit from the cold desert winds. Looking back up at you, then your shawl, then you again, it’s as if he was trying to convey something. “I-It’s getting a little cold, aha… Can I…?” 
Frowning, you flopped back onto the soft cushions, your fingers gripping the very edges of the shawl. “This is the one thing that’s mine. No, you can’t have it.” 
“Haha, I wasn’t asking for it! Don’t worry, I’ll definitely be asking my tailors to make me one like yours so we can match! I meant I wanted to share it with you right now!” With zero hesitation, he flopped down beside you. He was close, so incredibly close, enough that you could feel his body warmth and he could probably feel yours. It did not help that when you tried to inch away, he took the initiative to snuggle closer, draping the ends of your shawl around himself as he continued to hold the feather you gifted him. 
When he was right up against you and gazed up at you with those bright eyes and always happy smile, you scowled and muttered, “What’s with you? You got a problem, princey?” 
Without missing a beat, he responded casually. “I’m not a prince, that would technically be my cousin! I’m a sultan! Although I was a prince before, but not anymore.” 
“That’s not what I–– nevermind.” You tried to ignore him for your own good. You couldn’t exactly get away with hurting the sultan, no matter how much you wanted to take a swing. Well, it wasn’t all bad was it? This meant you were on his good side, right? 
As you glanced back at him, you could feel him beside you. Shoulder-to-shoulder, as he gazed up at the stars, looking up at the endless night sky with twinkling eyes. “This is great! I rarely ever have company like this. I mean, I always have company but like–– company that I can just relax with, you know? Oh, look up there, at those stars––!” 
At this point you weren’t really focused on the sultan or what he was saying. Actually, you were focused on something just past him, past the stone curved ends of the balcony where you could see the rest of the city and part of the palace. That's when you made out a figure, like a small ant against the vast backdrop, running fast. They moved quickly, jumping over obstacles and climbing walls like an acrobat, as if it came natural to them, all while avoiding the lights of torches and staying in the shadows. They were dressed in rags too, like a peasant. Like… a thief. 
“––Anyways, that’s the story behind my favorite constellation! What about yours? Do you have a favorite?” 
“OH MY GOD––” Your eyes widened as the realization struck. The thief, they were the protagonist! The protagonist was making their move!
The sultan appeared startled at your sudden exclamation, but his shock quickly turned to a smile as he laughed, “Did you like the story that much? I like it too! Let me think of another one to tell you about!” 
Immediately pushing him away, you sat up and scrambled to get off the chair, “Welp, this is getting weird. And I have to go report back to Jamil! Damn, you know how it is, with work and all. You get it, don’t you? Yeah, of course you do!” Brushing yourself off, you bolted just as the sultan was sitting up and looking bewildered at your odd reaction. “Okay, I’m gonna go before you can say anything, m’kay, bye!” 
“W-Wait!” 
Nope. Not waiting. You ran, not even sure how to reach the vizier because you had no idea where his main quarters were, so you disguised your lack of knowledge as questions such as looking for his extra robes or even where the vizier himself was currently at, demanding answers along the way from unsuspecting servants until they pointed you in the direction. You had to hurry, you had to point out the thief so Jamil could use him and lure him to the lamp. Once he got the lamp, you’d take over from there, you’d come up with a plan eventually. Just not right now, not when you were rushing to make it back to inform the advisor of the intruder as quickly as possible. You climbed the spiraling staircases to one of the towers where the vizier’s quarters were located. 
As soon as you threw open the doors, you found him looking over a tome. However, as soon as you entered, he turned to look at you, raising an eyebrow as you heaved for a breath while you slammed the door shut behind you and leaned your weight against the wooden surface. You exclaimed breathlessly, “Thief!! Thief in the palace!” 
“Thief in the palace?” Jamil parroted, looking even more perplexed as he narrowed his eyes at you and you pointed to his open balcony that overlooked part of the city and part of the palace. 
Stumbling over to the balcony, you leaned your weight on the stone edges, letting the cool desert air fan your face. Quietly you mumbled, “That’s what I said. Catch up, or are you deaf?” When Jamil joined you at the balcony, he stood straight and tall as his dark eyes gazed out into the night. 
There, shrouded in the shadows, was the thief moving nimbly on rooftops and wooden pergolas covered in vines. They moved so quietly and effortlessly, going unnoticed even by the armored guards on patrol just below them. Finally, they disappeared into a hall, where there would only be servants cleaning and handling chores to keep the palace pristine. For once he finally appeared pleased, content, as he glanced at you and instructed, “Have the guards extend an invitation to our intruding guest. I will be escorting them to the cave. And you, my vassal?” 
You? As much as you wanted to go, it wasn’t like you could go into the cave yourself. You also couldn’t reveal that you knew that this thief was the diamond in the rough that the vizier had spent months searching for. No matter how much you wanted that lamp now, you couldn’t risk changing the plot. It was probably better to stay here until the thief would come back with the lamp, genie, with riches and a new name. While they would be busy with wooing the prince, that would be your opportunity to strike. “I’ll stay, keep Prince Jaseer and Kalim off your back if they come asking.” When you noticed Jamil’s attention still on you, you clarified smoothly, “I don’t wanna watch another failure with the cave going up in smoke.” 
“Quit being so pessimistic. This is the one.” He scolded, immediately turning to walk away. However, not before leaving another command to follow. “Go, make yourself useful and inform the guards immediately. I’ll be preparing to leave with the thief.” 
Rolling your eyes, you stood up and prepared yourself to rush down the steps and inform the guards. At the very least, you could get some well-earned rest once he left. “As you wish, your rottenness.”  ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧
“(Y/n)?” 
Your peaceful slumber in the vizier’s quarters was disturbed. On the lounge on the balcony you lay, eyes groggily blinking open only to be met with a familiar face leaning over you. You blinked again for extra measure, your mind processing who you were seeing. 
“Good morning!” Kalim smiled, his head just over yours. Out of instinct you jolted upright, accidentally hitting your forehead against his. “Ow! Ah–– you’re finally awake!” The young man cheered, ignoring the pain on his forehead as you hissed and rubbed your own head where it now hurt from the brunt of the impact. 
Glaring at the sultan for waking you up from a pleasant sleep, you squinted at his bright expression while rubbing your eyes and the now sore spot on your skull. “What the hell are you doing here? How did you even find me? How did you get in here? I locked the door before I fell asleep!” 
“Oh, that? Well, when everyone found out I was looking for you, they told me that you were asleep in Jamil’s tower. Obviously I knew where that was, but when I came to find you, the door was locked! I know, I know, Jamil really likes his privacy, but I just wanted to see you and you wouldn’t open the door! So, I just had the guards use the backup key to open the door and I’ve been waiting here ever since!” 
You sat up, taking a moment to process everything. If you weren’t already squinting because of your vision not yet adjusted to the brightness of the sun from the open balcony and grogginess from your own sleep, you would’ve been squinting even more to look at his smiling face incredulously. Rubbing your tired face, you sighed, “Let me get this straight. You couldn’t wait, so you had your people basically break into the vizier’s room and for what? Just to say good morning? How long were you waiting for me to wake up? Don’t tell me you were watching me sleep.” You scoffed somewhat sarcastically.
“I wasn’t watching you! Well… kinda. I just wanted to make sure you were okay! I do owe you.” You were kidding about that last part, so his response genuinely surprised you. Before you could even think up something to say, he stopped leaning over the long lounge chair you were on and stood up to show off a new article of clothing. A colorful woven shawl, similar to yours. “Look! Isn’t it great? They finished it while I was sleeping, and now we match! The tailors sprayed it with perfume too so it even smells like jasmine!” 
Frowning as you watched him happily twirl and show off the shawl, the feather you gave him stuck to his headband, you muttered, “All I smell is bullsh––” 
“Shhhh!” Appearing incredibly content with his new shawl, he continued to chatter on happily. “I love it so much! Tell me, is this the latest fashion trend in the city? It’s been a while since I’ve gone out.” 
You replied gruffly, “I dunno, why don’t you stick your head out the window and check? I’m not your tailor. Why don’t you ask them? Or even ask to go out or something.” 
At your words, his smile faltered the tiniest bit. It turned somewhat sad, but he continued to force that cheery expression as he averted his gaze downward albeit awkwardly. “I’d love to go out! But… I’m not really allowed. I’m sultan, remember? I’m only allowed to go out during special occasions, and I’ve never been allowed to just be with everyone else past the gates. My dad used to say it was dangerous, and even now the council says it’s not a good idea.” 
Wait a moment… This could work well to your advantage. There was plenty of time before Jamil returned. It would serve as a good excuse to gain your bearing and at least a bit of knowledge on the environment past the high palace walls. Plus, you would get points with the sultan if you made him happy. Besides, being on Kalim’s good side, as annoying as he was, could work out in the end. Especially if things start to go south. It didn’t hurt to be trusted by both the first and second most powerful people in the entire kingdom. Damn you were a genius. You smiled somewhat slyly. “Who says you gotta ask?” 
“H-Huh?” For once Kalim was caught off guard as you hopped up from your spot on the lounge. Once you got up, so did he. He followed you as you stepped over to open a cabinet of clothing. “You mean, go without asking? You really mean it?” 
Kalim was sultan, he’d obviously be recognized without a disguise. But if you just covered his white hair and lower face and switched his riches to common rags, he’d be fine. Probably. Hopefully. Picking up a few handkerchiefs and scarves he could use, you pretended to reconsider, “I dunno… We’d have to sneak out and break the rules–– just kidding, let’s sneak out!” Holding up some cloaks and fabrics he could use as a hood to cover his signature white hair and to mask his lower face, your smile grew as you persuaded him further, “Come on, let’s just go for a midday stroll and snack. We’ll just let everyone think you’re spending time in the vizier’s chambers waiting for him to return or something. Just follow me, out the window, ‘round the garden, I’ll carry you over, and we’re gone.”
Those red eyes of his turned to the open balcony and view of the city on this hot summer’s day. He stood still, as if contemplating it. But it didn’t take much convincing, or that long to ponder over his decision, because like in a snap, he broke out into a grin and eagerly bobbed his head up and down. That’s when you knew you had him in the palm of your hand. 
It took a bit of tip-toeing around, but eventually you managed to get Kalim past the gates with little to no trouble. You had a few coins you snatched from Jamil’s chambers safely secured within a pocket on the inside of your shawl, along with a few knives you tucked away in various parts of your outfit but those were mostly for a last resort. You didn’t plan to go too far because you didn’t know the layout of the city well, and plus you knew there was always the chance of thieves and pickpockets skulking about. The good thing was, that thief protagonist wouldn’t be here, they’d still be in the desert and the Cave of Wonders. All you were here for was a snack and to make the sultan happy, and happy sounded like an understatement. 
The young man was practically glowing, vibrating with energy as he danced on his heels. Kalim fit in surprisingly well. Since he wasn’t tall, he didn’t stand out that much in the busy crowd. Not to mention the lack of silks and fancy garbs helped. It was a good idea you gave him that average quality material to wear. On his body he wore a casual old white tunic turned beige with age and loose-fitted orange pants, with that rainbow shawl he commissioned recently and a dark orange hood with a black cloth around his lower face to top it off. The only thing you could really see if you got close to his face, were those big red eyes just sparkling with life. 
“Stop staring at me with those big old eyes.” 
Immediately he closed his eyes. Although the black fabric concealed the lower portion of his face, you could just tell he was wearing some stupid grin by the slight crinkle appearing on the bridge of his nose and the mirth dancing in his tone. “Sorry, sorry! This is all just so exciting! What are we going to do now? Everything smells so good! Oh, what’s all that––” 
When the sultan seemed set on some shady foreign merchants selling a variety of unlabeled goods, you grabbed the back of his collar, preventing him from dashing across the busy streets and being run over by carts hauling goods or being scammed for all the cash he had, or worse. “Hold on. When was the last time you actually went out? Like, as a normal person.” 
“Oh, the last time was… the beginning of never, actually. This is my first time!” The sultan beamed. 
Kalim was a merchant’s dream, like a sitting duck susceptible to astronomical prices and greedy exchanges. But more like a golden goose instead of a sitting duck. For now, the plan was to safeguard him. He already owed you for saving his life when calling out that assassin with the poison, but there had to be a definite connection. The sultan would be your plan B, should all else fail when attempting to acquire the lamp with the vizier Jamil. If Jamil were to go down, you would betray him in a heartbeat, and turn to Kalim. However, in order for Kalim to truly believe you, the trust had to be as solid as the gold that filled his palace. 
“Of course it is. I should’ve guessed.” Resisting the urge to just drop him off at the gates and enjoy your freedom, you opted that the safest options would just be the food stalls and he would be entertained by all the happenings in the market.
And you had been right, but what you didn’t take into account was how talkative he might be. Even as he happily munched away on street food sold at various stalls and carts. “You know, it makes me sad that I can’t go out like this. This is the first time I can stand in the middle of the city, without people crowding and staring. People just walk past me as if I’m nothing–– do you know how crazy that is?” 
He was sultan, and a prince before that, so he must’ve been accustomed to everyone bowing to him as he passed. All eyes would be on him, but here? Not a single person gave a passing glance. 
Taking a bite of the skewed spiced meat and grilled vegetables you bought for yourself, you shrugged at his words before finally adding in your own two cents. “If you take away your title, you’re just a guy.” 
“Just a guy…” He murmured quietly, like he never really considered the fact that without his name and his family’s wealth, he was practically a nobody. Taking a slow and concentrated bite of his own skewer, he allowed the taste to settle before looking down at it with a sense of wonder. “This is delicious! I’ve never had the privilege of just eating food without a taste tester. I might have to bring the man who made this back to the palace with me.” 
“Don’t blow your own cover.” 
“I won’t, I won’t! It’s just…” Kalim appeared to look down thoughtfully, taking another bite. As a sultan, he was probably so pampered and protected that he never once tasted street food or walked on a dirt road before. “Today, you’ve done something truly special for me, my friend. You gave me something worth more than gold or gems, you gave me a once in a lifetime experience! These days it’s hard to trust anyone around me.” 
Pausing mid bite, you raised an eyebrow and listened attentively. Possible intel? This could be useful, good information to store in the back of your mind for a later time to utilize when it was most advantageous. 
“All the servants are loyal for the most part, but that’s because there’s rules and payment involved. Sometimes, there’s one or two among them that have tried to harm me and my family.” He continued softly, almost seriously. This wasn’t like his usual cheery demeanor and loud tone. Right now his gaze was eerily calm and he spoke quietly, just loud enough so you could hear as you stood beside him. “For a while, I was okay with it. That’s how I grew up, it was my normal. But then I got older, my parents passed on, I got married for a little while but that didn’t last. Even some of my siblings, who I thought I could trust, turned against me just to get to the throne. It seems like everyone I love is either taken away from me or turns against me.” 
In that moment, he turned to face you, gazing at you with those big red eyes.  
Softly, he pleaded, “Promise me you won’t be like that? Taken away from me or turned against me–– I don’t think I could bear it. I can’t believe I never spoke to you properly sooner than I did! We could’ve been best friends by now!” His soft hands clutched yours, as he still awkwardly held the skewer between his thumb and pointer finger. 
You began freaking out a bit when his hands moved up to your face, squishing your cheeks between his palms as he brought your face closer to his 
“I mean, you make me so happy I could just kiss you! It wouldn’t be hard.” 
There was no way you just accidentally snagged a sultan. How? You of all people! With the rotten personality and a heart so shriveled and three sizes too small that it could rival the Grinch’s own beating core. Oh this made things too easy. Kalim was now the ace hidden up your sleeve. If worse came to worse and the original plan had to be abandoned, well, certainly playing the role of the sultan’s favorite little lover wasn’t too bad. At least until you could obtain the lamp. 
Certainly while the sultan was oblivious, he wasn’t dumb. However, he was most likely no expert when it came to love, as it appeared he wasn’t the most skilled at basic interactions from his cushy palace life. It couldn’t be that hard to keep him seduced, could it? Surely if he miraculously felt attracted to you, it was possible to keep him hooked for a while, until you had the wishes you desired. 
All it took was a single kiss on his forehead, to see those ruby red eyes dazzle so brightly in the sunlight. Although his lower face was concealed by the fabric around his head, he was bound to be grinning ear-to-ear like an idiot. And wrapped around your pinky to have at your disposal. “Happy?” 
Eagerly he nodded, taking a deep breath to hold so he wouldn’t squeal with joy. What a sucker. “So so happy, my dove!” 
“My dove? Huh…” At the little nickname, you sigh and shrug, stopping yourself from rolling your eyes so as to not appear too cold toward his advances and words. “Then let’s go back now before they go looking for you. Oh, look over there, what a beautiful bracelet…” You casually remark, gesturing toward a stand across the road that sold a variety of jewelry. If you had to kiss up to a man, might as well make it all worth it by causing his pockets to hurt. But what was a bit of gold and jewelry to his pockets that ran so deep? 
✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧
“What is that…?” The vizier demanded, glaring at you. When he returned, he was in a foul mood. It must’ve been because the story was progressing and that thief got trapped in the Cave of Wonders with the lamp, but he said nothing about it other than it’s gone. However, even when he was outraged by his recent failure, he still noticed the golden bands wrapped around your arms. 
Seeing where his gaze was directed, you lifted your arm and showed off the golden bands speckled with white diamonds and decorated with swirls within the metal itself. “Oh, this? You like? The sultan gifted them to me.” You grinned, noticing his frown deepening. Using the opportunity, you flaunted. “I think that chump has taken a liking to me ever since I saved his skin.” 
"So I heard of your heroic deed." If the vizier had laser vision, he’d be searing your bracelet into a puddle of molten metal liquid by how hard he was glaring. “Don’t lose sight of what we’re after. In the end, the lamp can provide enough wealth to put that tiny gaudy thing to shame.” 
At his words dissing the rather expensive and delicately crafted accessory, your eyes widened as you pointed an accusatory finger at him. “Ohhhh, I see… You’re jealous! Ha! You’re mad! Stay mad!” 
A scowl etched his way onto his features as he hissed, “You think I’m jealous…?!” Pausing, he collected himself. Or at least, he tried to. But it was probably difficult to do so with the reminder in the back of his mind that his victory was within his grasp, only to be fumbled. Taking a deep breath, he seethed, “No, I am not jealous. In fact, you’re doing me a favor by distracting that airhead and also that bratty prince in the process. So, continue. I encourage you, but remember who your efforts are for. Now, there has to be another way to find another person worthy to go into that cave…” 
Scoffing, you readjusted the bracelet over your arm. Such a shiny thing that would’ve cost a small fortune back home. “Don’t worry, even though you’re a despicable serpent, you’re still my favorite.” Whether that was true or not, it was best to stay in his good graces. “I heard what happened from the few guards you took with you… it’ll be fine. The lamp is gotta still be there under all that sand.”
Ignoring your words, he still paused when he heard them, but he didn’t acknowledge them in the slightest. In fact, he only gave a command without so much as a glance in your direction. “Go get me my tome from that shelf.” 
Offering a smile without the pretentiousness, you went over to the shelf and picked the heavy tome he required. Almost everyday he seemed to read from this thing. “Okay, master, I’ll get you the dark wizard daily so you can enchant yourself some bitches.”
Bringing his fingers to his head, he rubbed the bridge of his nose as if in annoyance. For a moment you thought he might snap, but instead he only muttered, “I already have one that talks day in and day out, endlessly bothering me to no end. I do not need another one of you.” 
“Haha–– Wait, what?” 
That cold expression didn’t change, until his eyes wandered down to your arm. And as he continued speaking slowly, he grabbed your wrist within his hand. He removed the golden bracelets Kalim had bought for you in the market. Those golden bands were eventually in his hands. At their brilliant shine, he scowled and tossed them aside. On your arms, he placed silver ones. Silver bands that curled around your arms like snakes, to replace the ones the sultan gifted you. 
“What I mean is…” Using his golden staff, he extended it outward, using the cobra head on it like a hook to turn your head towards where he was seated, directing your gaze to his eyes. Those gray eyes were hypnotizing, this was what it must’ve felt like when Kalim was met face-to-face with the cobra head on his vizier’s staff. However, there was no magic being used at the moment. “You’re mine, not Kalim’s. Do you understand?” 
You frown as he switches them, closely examining the shine of your new bracelet. “Gold is shinier than silver…” 
He sighed, irked. “Then I’ll just make sure to take a gem, as big as your greed, from the treasury and have it engraved into one heavy necklace. Now––” Seeing you grin in content at his promise for another shiny treasure, he continued from where he left off. “You are mine. My vassal. Say it back to me. Yours.”
Jamil was dead serious as he spoke, clearly not in the mood for too many jokes or teasing. And for once, you were too stunned for words to blurt out anything. Besides, it wasn’t like you could when he was so close and staring at you so intensely. 
“You… Yours?” You parrot awkwardly, wincing at the way it came out of your mouth. However, the young man still keeping you close with his staff seemed content with your response. 
Those gray eyes remained focused on you. His eyes were thin and sharp, making it look like he wore eyeliner. As cruel and cold as he could be behind that calm and polite facade, there was a mysterious charm to him. It was as enticing as it was dangerous, and yet that was how you liked most things. Curse him for that. 
It’s strange. You thought he would be more enraged about the lamp and the incident at the Cave of Wonders. However, he seemed almost calm as he gazed at you. And without his fancy garbs composed of so many layers that pooled around him, he didn’t look so intimidating. The black sleeveless shirt he wore was loose but intricately decorated, and his pants looked like flowing silk. There wasn’t even that headpiece over his hair, which made him look… normal. If that were even possible. It made you forget the fact that he was a villainous vizier, meant to eventually go mad with power and accidentally curse himself to an eternity of solitude and servitude when he finally wished to become an all-power genie. Maybe if you could steer him down that path, you could have him for yourself as a second wish-granter...
“Mine.” He confirmed, giving you a hard stare as he lowered his staff. With a hand, he guided your fingers to his long dark tresses. Most of it was loose, but some strands were in thin braids that extended all the way up to his scalp. When you delicately pinched one of the braids between your fingers, the braids tied so tightly made them look like little scales. Slowly you unravel them for him, he didn’t protest. In fact, he appeared almost relaxed. “I’ve let him take away many things from me. Too many things. And I’m not about to let him snatch you away too.” 
“Eh, he’s annoying. Silly, but annoying. You on the other hand… my boss who’s a tall, dark, and sinister ugly man.” 
His eyes watched your every movement, looking on idly as your fingers slowly untwined his braids. So casually you were touching a man who had committed unspeakable crimes, most of which you could not even begin the picture. What else had he done to defend the sultan when it was his duty? What had he done to climb the ranks and try to climb even higher to the most dangerous heights? How many souls had he sacrificed to the Cave of Wonders? How many assassins did he personally fend off? How did he punish and silence those that dare try to reveal his secrets and plans working behind the scenes without the royal family or others taking notice? 
Jamil crossed his arms, indifferent to your insult. His gaze never once left your figure as he replied smoothly. “You’re a terrible liar… If I was as ugly as you claimed, you wouldn’t be staring at me like that or touching me. Now, sit down.” He was close–– too close when he added the next words in a way that left you puzzled as to what exactly he could’ve meant. “You’ll be rewarded for recognizing my greatness, before anyone else did. But for now.” He handed you a scroll. "Read, find something useful of the lamp or the cave."
Maybe the most unnerving thing about Jamil, was his mysterious allure. The sultan you knew was cheery and laidback, the prince was spirited and independent, and the thief you would learn about in due time. But the vizier? It seemed impossible to pinpoint anything to him. One moment he was stoic and silent, the next he could be taking your banter and come up with a witty reply, and the very next second he was enraged and permanently extinguishing a life. Yet he wasn’t wildly violent nor too charming that it felt like a mask. And yet, you couldn’t distinguish was was genuine emotion from him or just acts with different intentions behind them. And that was the most concerning part about the vizier–– did he truly like you or was this some elaborate facade?
✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧
The following day you were awoken by thumping. Staying up late to assist the vizier search through old scrolls and books, wasn’t the brightest idea. The night was a bit of a blur, as you had stayed up so late researching with him. It was a blur of printed text, bickerings and snide remarks, fingers running through hair, and intense gazes, among other things. As you awoke later in the morning to an uproar from outside and a shaking of the ground like an earthquake. Trumpets and bells served as your alarm, as you fell out of the desk you had slumped over last night, a blanket over your shoulder that you hadn’t placed. 
Outside was quite a parade that could put all festivals to shame. White stallions carrying men with banners, camels carrying drummers whose sounds vibrated in the air, bands marching in the most vibrant uniforms, dancers in fine purples like pristine peacocks. It was like a traveling circus, zoo, and party all in one. And in your dazed state, the realization arrived suddenly–– 
“That’s the thief––!” 
Instantly you ran to your own room, or rather, the old vassal’s room, to wash up and change as quickly as humanly possible. You knew this would happen eventually, but you didn’t expect it to happen so soon. The thief, now a princess, was here! Here, arriving with a genie masquerading as their most faithful trusted servant. The lamp, she had the lamp with her! 
Once changed, you stepped back into the vizier’s tower. There was no one there, he even cleaned up after his research session, leaving no evidence behind of his plot with the Cave of Wonders. No book, scroll, or even a page was left. Damn, he was good. In your mind there’s no doubt he’s cleaned up after other plots and murders. What a slippery cretin. 
Quickly departing from the tower, you made your way through the grand halls, past the guards and servants. Although most were entranced by the grand spectacle that princess, or rather a crook, managed to display through the streets of the city. To think all that splendor and so much more was just within reach. But just because the finish line was in sight, did not mean that it was safe. There were more ways to die here than the number of tales Scheherazade had to tell. While having the favor of the sultan and vizier was certainly both an ego boost and a benefit, it didn’t make you invincible. That could only truly happen when you finally had the lamp in hand. 
As soon as you turned a corner, you heard laughter. Immediately, you got the wind knocked out of you and went flying. Literally. You went tumbling backwards, some type of fabric draping over your face and the weight of a body crashing into yours as you collapsed on your back in an awkward angle. You were milliseconds away from screaming bloody murder and ready to tear into whoever could be blamed, but you shut your mouth and clenched your teeth shut when you heard the familiar giggling. 
The cloth, whatever it was that had been over your head and obscuring your vision, was removed. However, it wasn’t removed by a person, it moved on its own. That’s when you realized it wasn’t a piece of cloth, it was a piece of fabric, woven wool to be more specific. The wool that composed the magic flying carpet from the story. It moved like a sentient being as you blinked at it in shock, and it extended one of its tasseled yellow ends to dust you off. 
“How in the hell…?” 
“My dove! I’m so sorry. Are you hurt?” He was gasping a bit from laughing so much on that magic carpet joy ride he must’ve just been on, the adrenaline still pumping through his system from flying within the palace’s high-ceiling rooms. 
Yes, you simple-minded idiot, you hit me like a train at full speed! Is what you would’ve said if you could, but it wouldn’t do to say that aloud when others might hear and get the wrong impression. It would attract too much attention if someone was blatantly disrespectful to the sultan. “No, I’m fine––” Your backside would be aching for a whole day. God, if only there wasn't a need for formalities, you would–– “And thank you… carpet.” The thanks came out awkwardly, as you were unused to thanking carpets but it seemed like a rather harmless and curious thing. 
“This contraption that the princess has brought is wonderful! You should try it!” 
The sultan gestured to the carpet. For such a priceless magical item that was stuck in a cave for who knew how long, it was in shockingly good condition. It had vibrant blues, and yellow patterns and symbols etched onto its surface. Yeah, you were definitely gonna keep it once you were in charge. 
“You know, I really think that my cousin Jaseer will love her! You have to meet her! And well…” He awkwardly scratched his cheek, looking somewhat sheepish as he mustered up the courage to speak the next words. His cheeks grew warm when he averted his gaze. Yet after a moment, his eyes shifted back to you. Such big innocent eyes, like the rarest of rubies. Usually you would try to admire the shine in such gems, but it was impossible to not take note of the obvious adoration within his gaze. “I was thinking, maybe you would like to join me later? We’ll be holding a banquet tonight, a party to celebrate our guests. But also, I wanted to spend time with you. What do you think? Is that alright?” 
For a moment you thought about it, slightly distracted when the carpet’s tassels were brushing against your arm and it appeared to stand so close. Not that you blamed the thing. If you were trapped in the Cave of Wonders like it was for so long, you would’ve gone insane. Maybe the thing just craved company or attention. Maybe it craved freedom. 
Kalim was providing the perfect excuse. You were the distraction, while Jamil could do whatever nefarious deeds he needed to complete in order for the plot to progress. However, it was already past the tipping point. Last night within those books, there was mention of the magic carpet within the Cave of Wonders. So chances are, the vizier already knows the princess is a fraud. 
“Hm, sure. Why not?” 
“Yes! Yes!” Quickly, he took your hands, clutching them tight. His energy was contagious apparently, because the carpet who had calmed down from the flight, received this burst of energy and was spinning around you too with great speed. “You won’t regret this! We’re going to have so much fun. And don’t worry about being overwhelmed by everyone, I know it can be a lot. So I’ll have an area set up just for us, away from the party guests, okay? That way, when we’re together and want to be alone, we can retreat there. Alright?”
Somehow with that invitation, while Jaseer and the princess whose name you’ve yet to learn, let alone care for, were likely learning about each other during the festivities and going off on their own romantic flight on the magic carpet, you were keeping the sultan distracted as the vizier had other matters to handle. Even when you were certainly not elegant or charming in even the slightest sense, appealing to the bubbly young man was surprisingly easy. Perhaps it was because he already was attracted to whatever he saw within you. 
Forced to entertain his request for a dance when the music began, he pulled you back behind a curtain to avoid people seeing, much to your great relief. He had a great big smile as he spoke about various things from the happenings of his kingdom to his own personal matters. 
“Do you care if I was married?” He asked a bit nervously, looking unsure if he should have even mentioned that to you. As far as you knew, the sultan was previously married, but nothing really came of the union. For whatever reason, he was single now with no children and his wife was no longer in the picture. Some creeping suspicion conjured up the possibility that Jamil had something to do with that. 
“I do not care.” You answered honestly. Why was he even asking that like how a boy would shyly ask a girl he liked if they mind the fact that he dated somebody before? Talk about zero charm. Was the only reason he got married because of his status? Most likely. Even if he was filthy rich and powerful, maybe even elegant looking in a way, he wasn’t exactly marriage material. “Tell me anyway. Details. I want details.” 
Surprised, he blinked at you. “Me? You wanna know about that? Well, it’s not very interesting… I would say it’s a long story, but it’s really not.” He chuckled a bit dryly, absentmindedly fiddling with the ends of the curtains where they had privacy on a balcony with a wonderful view of the port where the city met the waters. “I was young, an eighteen-year-old prince. Accidents happened to most of my siblings that were my age, so I was next in line. There’s a law that states that those next in line for the throne have to be married by a certain age. My father picked her when I couldn't decide. She was a princess from the north where apparently it’s all cold and snowy. A year or so after the wedding, my father and mother passed in an accident. Then, later on, she was gone too.” 
These sort of details were never mentioned in any rendition of the story that you remembered. At least, none that you recalled. However, it had been a while since you read them, so it could just be your memory. And the fact that in those takes, the sultan was an old man. “Do you ever miss her?” 
“Hm… sometimes. I thought I would miss her more, I feel like I should miss her a lot, but… I don’t.” He admitted quietly, lounging on his stomach so his arms were folded in front of him and his cheek was resting on his arm. “Over the years, I feel like I’ve lost track of all the accidents. My brother married into the royal family of a neighboring nation and urged them to wage war on our home, my sister attempted to bribe bodyguards to do her dirty work, aunts and uncles sent assassins.” 
“Drama.” You hummed as you lay across from him, laying flat on your back instead of your stomach. 
At your casual remark he almost laughed. Maybe that was his way of processing trauma, through humor and positivity. All this betrayal and hurt was certainly enough to drive someone mad. Maybe he wasn’t completely right in the head. “Okay, this is getting depressing, so I’ll stop. But you see why I like you? Why I trust you with my life? You’re so… so… real. It doesn’t feel like you sugarcoat things, and you’re so blunt! No one ever talks to me like that. You talk to me as if I’m just a guy, and nothing else.” 
He remembered what you said that time in the market. “You are just a guy.” You repeat. And that’s all he would be. If you couldn’t get the lamp, and Jamil got his greedy hands around it first, well maybe it was worth wishing for the vizier to spare the poor sultan. Besides, he was likable. Annoying, but entertaining. “And you really shouldn’t.” Trust. He shouldn’t trust you.
“But I do!” He pushed himself up, until his head was right above yours. Those ruby red eyes gazing right down at you, his face so close to yours that his nose brushed against yours. Gold around his ears dangled, making small rings like wind chimes. Kalim peered at you so immensely, so focused, but it was a gentle tender gaze as he lowered his face closer to yours. “I trust you, so, so much…” 
It only took a few moments for things to get out of hand. Oh, it was so easy, too easy. You were no tempest, but Kalim made it simple. Like toying with a doll. So after several minutes in, you hear the familiar voice of the vizier calling you, you immediately pull away and sit up. Panic was plastered over your face at the thought of being seen by that envious viper. When Kalim sat up with you, he looked much more dazed, like a lovestruck fool. To which you immediately pushed him down and hissed. “Shit! What’s he going to say if he finds me here with the sultan?” 
Part of his white hair was messy, as the cloth he usually wore around his head fell off sometime ago. His short strands stuck out at some angles, and he didn’t bother recollecting his composure as he was still dizzy. “Lucky sultan?” 
When he gave you a stupid grin, you pushed him aside. Luckily the spot was relatively hidden by curtains, pillows, and plush blankets and carpets. “Shut up…! Just, stay here.” 
Quickly you smoothed down your appearance before exiting the area, entering the halls to search for the vizier that had called you. Apparently, the time to act was here. Mere moments ago, he had instructed his loyalest soldiers under his command to bring in the princess they had cornered. 
So by the time you arrived at the vizier’s tower, there in the open window strapped to a chair atop an elevated surface of a table was the princess. Beautiful, sure. Especially when she wore such flashy garbs of pure white and purple. Cleverly she had wrapped a cloth around her head like a shayla, hiding her hair which could’ve been a key feature used to identify her, besides her face of course which she couldn’t exactly conceal under these circumstances. Her feet and wrists were bound tightly with rope, and if her chair tipped backwards she would meet a cold end in the salty waters of the sea right below. 
There was a distinct hint of nervousness in her tone as she attempted to persuade the two guards that this had been a misunderstanding, that they must’ve had no idea who she was, you watched the pair of soldiers double-check the security of the ropes bounding her. While in walked the vizier. It seemed like he was busy while you were taking a… break. Now, if the princess was here, where was that cursed lamp? Your eyes scanned her figure, searching for pockets she might’ve had. 
“We know who you are, Aliyyah.” The vizier spoke, sounding way too casual at the moment as he walked over to his tome situated on his desk. So that was the thief’s true name.
“Aliyyah…? I don’t know who that is–– I’m Princess Alya!” 
Jamil interrupted her, as she looked increasingly anxious. “A princess from a kingdom which does not exist. And who arrived on a magic carpet told to only be obtainable from the Cave of Wonders.” 
Carpet. That’s right. The carpet and the monkey the thief owned were still somewhere within the palace. There couldn’t be any loose-ends. Not when the lamp’s location was still unknown. It could be anywhere within the palace. 
Silently stepping over to the door where two more guards were situated to look-out, you allowed the vizier and thief to continue their stand-off while you opened the door slightly to whisper to one of the additional guards. “Go to our guest’s quarters. There, you should find our visitor’s pet and that magical carpet. Do not let them leave the quarters. And do not go alone, bring multiple other soldiers if you have to, but this is to remain discreet. I don’t care what you do to the monkey, but I better not see so much as a loose piece of string on that carpet. Capeesh?”
Being the vizier’s vassal had its benefits. As they usually only ever responded to the vizier himself, but since you were known to be the wise young man’s trusted advisor, your words carried weight among the staff wielding weapons and wearing armor. So obediently, the soldier nodded and immediately went off to see that the task was done. Afterwhich, you closed the heavy wooden door shut to prevent any sound from escaping, and returned your attention back to the vizier and the thief. 
“I’m afraid you’ve worn out your welcome.” His tone was no longer so casual. There was an icy coldness to it as he stalked closer, quickly growing tired of her adamant denial. “If I throw you off of that balcony, and you are who you say you are, you will die a watery death.” 
If Jamil pushed one of his own guards into a well for even considering the action of refusing orders, well, pushing a thief turned princess off several floors into deep waters was something he wouldn’t hesitate doing. So you watched carefully as the severity of the situation was settling on the princess, as she struggled in her bonds and her seat. However, there was no lie or tricks that could get her out of this one. 
“And if you survive, it can only be because of the lamp. Now…” 
Waving off the pair of soldiers, they left, leaving only the thief, the vizier, and yourself. As the dark-haired sorcerer did the familiar movement of lifting the end of his spear so it was directly against her collarbone, the princess gulped and an ominous look came over the vizier’s face. When the princess glanced at you, you only grinned and wiggled your fingers like waving goodbye. However, when she turned to face you, that’s when your sharp eyes caught a glimpse of something sparkly in the cloth around her hair, right behind her neck. Slowly you walked closer.
“Where is the lamp?” Jamil demanded. 
“Listen,” The young woman pleaded. She was young, about your age. And surely you knew that she would die a watery death, because now you knew where the lamp was. Whatever name she went by, or whoever she was, Princess Alya of a faraway nation or the thief Aliyyah, it wouldn’t matter. “I swear to you,” Her voice wavered with uncertainty. “I am––” 
You bumped the tip of his staff, with enough pressure to tip her off the end just as you leaned forward to reach the cloth around her skull. Your grip was on the fabric, not her. So she went tumbling down multiple floors, plunging into dark brine. Her scream was cut off by the sound of a splash and the breaking of wood. The chair must’ve broken upon impact, but she went sinking down and down. The only thing preventing you from falling as well, was the curved cobra head Jamil had used like a hook around your back to secure you from falling. And in your hands, wrapped in the silk white cloth, lay what would’ve been her salvation, what was your salvation–– the lamp. 
“This is convenient. Now it’s time for you to answer the same question I asked her.” 
“What? Aren’t you going to pull me to safety?” You stared at him wide-eyed, as he practically dangled you above your doom. Yes, the lamp was in hand, but you couldn’t rub it to summon the genie. Not when your fingers were gripping it tightly so it wouldn’t fall into the waters below and risk hitting the jagged rocks, while your other hand gripped the golden staff to avoid falling, your toes just barely on the edge. Even the slightest wrong move, would send you plummeting to those sharp stones and salty waters so far below. Could you survive that fall? Maybe, if you could avoid the rocks. Which seemed like a slim chance. 
Ignoring your growing fear, he continued calmly, keeping a steady grip on his staff. A small tremble could unbalance you and make you fall. Or, he could be so cruel as to let you drop. But, you had the lamp, which might’ve been the only reason he held on. “I know who you are, criminal.” 
Down below, there was no sign of the thief emerging. The only thing that came up to the surface of the waves was a purple sash from her garbs. Something about his words was enough to tell you that he didn’t mean the role you were playing, he meant you. You who were arrested and sent here as punishment, as your own personal hell, to die for your crimes. And here you were, just as those bastard judges wanted, on the very brink of death. Literally. “You know nothing about me––” 
“I know everything about you. I know your crimes, your anger, your burning hatred for those who have wronged you. I know.” Gray eyes narrowed at you, but his hold was unwavering. You couldn’t save yourself, not in this position. You were at his mercy. Even when your heart felt like it was beating rapidly, and you were thinking a mile a minute of possible ways to get out of this situation only for each idea to end in failure. You heard his words he spoke bitterly, like they had a deeper meaning. But then he added, “I know you hide a knife in your shawl, a second in your pillowcase, and a third under your mattress because you never trusted me completely. It pains me to see you reduced to this.” 
No, he knew nothing about you. The real you, even if he thought he did. He could never imagine what it was like, the things you had done. Even if he somehow discovered the truth, that you were not his trusted vessel but acted like them, you weren't them. “You–– You don’t know me!” 
“A criminal from another world, sent into what was like a story. You thought you could trick me and everyone else. But you underestimate me. As soon as you opened your big mouth, I knew you were a fraud. What did you call me? A two-faced snake? Ironic.” 
You had called him that, while playing a role to trick him this entire time. Just as the protagonist had tried, and look where she ended up because of that. Dead. Drowned by water and salt, with a body that would either become fish food or wash ashore as an unrecognizable corpse. How did he know? There was no possible way to know! You told no one! Trusted no one!
The air was a bitter cold. Moonlight shone on his face, letting you see the royal vizier’s cunning features and how he was grinning. He was grinning at your predicament, as he held your fate in his hands. Your arm was starting to feel numb from holding on for so long, but you couldn’t let go. There was no way you would let go of the lamp or of yourself, after everything and how far you got. When glory and sweet revenge on everyone was literally in the palm of your hand.
“But you leave yourself unguarded when you sleep.” That was the answer, you realized with horror. That was how he knew way more than he should! Jamil invaded your very mind, controlling it with this very cursed staff he held you from. “They wronged you, those above you. Underestimate you. We’re more alike than you would like to verbally admit.” 
“Jamil, you––! Vile liar, son of a––” 
“That’s sorcerer to you.” He corrected you. 
That’s right–– in the story once the vizier gets a brief moment of victory, he uses his wishes to place himself atop the social hierarchy of power. First sultan, then a sorcerer, then a genie. Above a sultan: a sorcerer. But why was he skipping the sultan stage? 
The vizier turned serious, stretching out his hand that did not hold the staff. He held out the palm of his thin hand, offering a twisted grin that made your stomach weave into knots. Speaking firmly, he offered a once in a lifetime deal. And it was either accept his deal, or die for the price of what was committed. “I told you, you are mine. I meant that. I plan to be something great, much greater than that simpleton. So, once I become the most powerful man in the world, you may take the title of sultan if it’s what you wish. All you have to do is hand me the lamp, my Treasured Vassal.”
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jkslipppiercing · 4 months
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I'll show you | Part 2 | jjk
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♡ summary: you show jungkook how much you love him...by giving him head.
♡ genre: a bit of angst, fluff, and smut all in one (mostly smut and fluff) (idk)
♡ pairing: boyfriend!jk, soft dom!oc.
♡ warnings: a LOT of kissing, jungkook is frustrated/mad, oc gives jk a blowjob, gagging is mentioned, oral (m receiving), dick sucking, he cums in her mouth, praise, jk calls her a good girl.
♡ WC: 2.6K
♡ a/n: enjoy 😮‍💨🤭
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After leaving you with an incredulous weight of frustration on your back, Jungkook had showered, gotten dressed, and hung out in the living room.
He's sat there, knees spread wide apart, forearms under his head, looking at the tv through his thick lashes with a head lazily laid back on the headrest; shamelessly offering his masculinity.
The wails of the tv blend into a chaotic blur of white noise in the back of your head, and the awkwardness that basically radiates off of you is almost palpable.
You switch your weight from one foot to the other, only to give yourself something to do.
"Show me" replays in your head over and over again, and you simply can't make it stop.
What on earth does he mean by that?
Show him what?
Should you bake him a cake or something?
No...that won't do.
Well...what about writing him a letter?
Seriously?
This is fucking ridiculous.
You don't realize you've said that out loud until he flicks a gaze over to you.
His eyes hold yours for a mere second. You think he might actually say something, so you stare back at him in anticipation of some sort of reaction.
...which never comes.
His gaze trails back to where it was originally settled, watching the tv as he feigns interest.
This is so damn frustrating.
Deciding to test the waters with him, you take a few steps forward.
His eyes remain stubbornly fixed on the tv, and as you come to a halt in front of him, he still refuses to look at you- so he settles on staring at a point behind you.
He's being childish.
Too bad, because you won't fucking have it anymore.
"Show me" blares in your conscience as a reminder.
Your foot enters his personal bubble of space, and as a first initiated interaction from him, he spreads his knees a little for you to fit between his legs.
The action sparks a flame of hope upon what could be.
Okay...
Now what?
In a split second of hesitation, you abandon all thoughts of rationality and take a seat. On him.
He lets you.
Knees digging into the couch on either side of his waist, you straddle him. The brush of your core against his crotch sends an electrifying jolt up your spine, and he finally looks at you when he notices how your breath shallows.
He doesn't speak, and neither do you.
Hands in need of holding onto something, you delve them into his hair. You play with the hair on the back of his head, scratching his scalp.
He always loved the gesture, humming approvingly whenever you went on with it; but now, the coldness of the silence weighing the air between you spreads an ache through your chest.
He just stares.
Another emotion accompanies the ache, and you soon recognize it to be challenge.
So you lean forward and latch your lips onto his jaw. To start off slow, you kiss the slant of it sweetly. Inching down a bit and boldly licking a long stripe up the length of his neck, you're satisfied once jungkook sucks in a sharp breath.
As you make out with the length of his neck, an urge to grind on his dick grows- but you fight it.
When you bite down on his sweet spot, he groans disapprovingly, which causes you to lick and suck on the area to dull the pain.
The throbbing ache of your heart intensifies when you realize he still hasn't laid a hand on you.
"What are you doing?" He roughly rasps out, clenching his jaw when you give his throat one last kiss before you pull away.
You widen your eyes innocently, deceptively showing a stance of confusion.
"Hm?" Your hands remain unrelenting as they comb through his strands. Planting one last peck on his jaw, you fully straighten. "What am i doing?"
Echoing his words only did so much as to avoiding his question, but you don't break the act even when his stare hardens.
He looks away, and your heart just about shatters.
With now softer eyes, you chase his line of vision as you tilt your head to the side, catching his eyes with desperate ones of your own.
"Still mad at me?" Hands slowly slipping away from his nape, you look down, afraid you might actually cry if this goes on any longer.
Enough.
It started off with the both of you being mad at each other, and you found his anger so over-exaggerated that you became just as pissed at him as he was at you.
-is. He is pissed at you.
Well, now, frustration gave way to just as much misery as anger.
Your raging emotions of upsetness subsided to show those of sadness.
It's only been a short while since he last had his hands on you, but it feels as long as a lifetime.
"Fuck, I'm not- I'm not mad at you, y/n." The frustration nestled in between the dips of his voice is palpable, and your tears burn the back of your eyes. You blink in effort to push them back.
A lump in your throat grows, and you force it back down with a thick swallow, eyes never meeting his as they stay fixed on his shirt.
Fiddling with your hands is all you can do, but you muster a weak answer. "Sure seems like it to me."
It might sound angry, but it's soft. Defeated.
He runs a hand through his hair, and the position you're in looks awkward, but it's not. Not in the least.
On the contrary, it's comfortable; familiar. Feelings of security lighten up the thickness of the tension in the atmosphere, poorly so.
"Do you not love me anymore?" The question has you looking up so fast you're afraid your neck might snap.
Vulnerability swirls in his dark chocolate eyes, bleeding through his tone, and you want to kiss the hurt that accompanies it away.
You narrow your eyes in disbelief. "Will you stop saying that, for god's sake?"
"You didn't answer the question."
"You want an answer?" You shoot back, and he maintains a blank expression in response.
A small "mhm" urges you on.
"That just might be the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard you say." His eyes light up with intrigue. "'Why?' you might ask? Well, baby, too bad for you, 'cause you're stuck with me." A bitter laugh erupts from you, and he cracks a sad smile.
"You're the most lovable, supportive boyfriend I could ever have, and I would never change a single thing about you. There's nothing to even change!" You exclaim in disbelief as you open your arms in expression.
The lightest pink blush dusts his cheeks, and he looks away.
You shift his chin with your index finger so he's looking at you again. "I'm not done."
Biting back a smile at your sassiness, he lets you continue.
"You are love itself. Saying that I love you would be such an embarrassing understatement. I believe heaven belongs with you, my soul entertwined with yours. Fuck, i love you so damn much it hurts, man."
You manage a chuckle out of him, which makes you smile yourself.
When you see his own initiation to speak, you trail a hand down his torso which makes him shut his mouth just as fast as he opened it.
"Will you let me show you?" Your hand stops where both your bodies meet, and you smile in triumph when his breath hitches.
You feel powerful- dominant- and in control of his body, so you lean forward by intention of pressing your lips to his- which caused him to close his eyes, in anticipation of the kiss- but you stop just shy of them.
When you stay there for a couple of seconds, his eyes open to reveal a never-ending darkness of lust and need.
You smirk, and for the first time this evening, his hand shoots to the back of your neck and grabs your nape.
The harsh movement makes your heartbeat skid to a stop, and it's as if he's reminding you who the one in charge here is.
Even though he is quite literally under you, he still manages to steal your breath away.
He replies to your earlier comment, voice scratched and restrained. "Oh yeah?" That alone sends heat barreling down the depths of your sex. "And just how exactly are you going to do that?"
A sardonic smile tips the corners of his lips up as he eyes your own.
You part your lips involuntarily, which causes him to lick his own pink ones. He bites down on his lips with restraint, and the simple action has you so wet you're almost uncomfortable.
But you pay your horniness no mind as you slip from his hands and settle on your knees in front of him, sneakily cupping him through his pants.
"Like this." His lids shutter closed with hitched breathing. He closes his eyes and his breath grows ragged beneath you as he lazily stretches out and spreads his knees further in invitation.
He's sporting a semi as you feel him through the fabric, and you grow impatient.
He eyes your movements as you place your hands on his belt before looking up into his eyes innocently. "May I?"
Your voice comes out so casually; it doesn't even sound like you're on your knees, asking your boyfriend if you can suck his cock.
He looks down at you with a hooded gaze. "Be my guest."
You smile in return.
Finding it unnecessary to waste any more time, you unbuckle his belt before you pull his pants down.
Kissing him through his briefs, you salivate at the little spot of precum leaking from the head of his length.
After pulling those down as well, you're met with the magnificent sight of his cock as it slaps against his abdomen.
"Fuck, I love your cock." And you lick a long stripe up his length before you stroke him sensually.
He chuckles at your comment, his breath cutting short when you kitty lick his tip. Nibbling and kissing lightly, your actions cause him to clench his hands by his sides in effort not to touch you.
"But not as much as I love you."
At that, he groans, which motivates you on to taking him in your mouth. Swirling your tongue around his tip reminds you of how familiar this all feels.
His body, his scent, his cock-
Everything about him is to die for.
You tease him as you refuse to take him deeper in your mouth, sucking on his tip to make him grow desperate for your touch- which is exactly the reaction you get to your teasing.
"Stop." The desperation laced into the demanding end of his voice awakens butterflies in your lower belly. "Stop teasing me, y/n."
He's on the verge of begging, but not quite there...yet.
"Hm..." You moan around his cock as you take him deeper, inch by inch, like a "good girl" as he likes to call you.
You stack your fists above each other on the length that doesn't fit in your mouth- he's fucking huge- as the tip nudges the back of your throat.
The gag that you fight to keep down makes your eyes water, and when you look up at him through teary eyes and saliva leaking through your mouth, he's just about done for.
A hitched, breathless- horny- moan rips out of his throat and he throws his head back- afriad he might bust if he looks at you any longer- as his hands fly to your hair.
He holds onto his dear life when you move your head, sucking him dry and stroking what doesn't fit.
A rushed "fuck" blows out of his lips in a breathless plea, your head bobbing up and down his cock while his hands help you.
"You take me so well." He grits out, making your cheeks redden in color as you grow shy.
The irony of your shyness as you suck his dick is immaculate, but he was always one to know just how much you loved praise.
"You gonna take my cum as well?" he's struggling to contain himself as his whole body tenses; he's so close. "yeah? Like the good girl you are?"
You hum around him, and his eyes look down at you only to find yours staring right back up at him.
He groans.
"So fucking beautiful" he thinks.
"Goddamnit, you're so fucking mine." His jaw clenches as his chest rises and falls with uneven heavy breaths, his hands portaying his emotions as he balls your hair up in his fists and pushes you down further.
You can't help but gag, putting every last effort into getting him off, quickening your pace. Your jaw aches- and so does your pussy, pulsing with need- but you put that aside and watch him in all his glory, gazing up at him with innocent teary eyes.
With one last thrust up your throat- and a hushed curse under his breath- Jungkook holds your gaze till the very last second, even as his cum shoots up your throat.
You hold his tip in your between your lips, sucking lightly, and he throws his head back. With his hands keeping your head in place, he's fucking his dick lazily into your mouth until the very last drop.
"Fuck" might be his favorite curse word, and it surely is, as he moans it loudly before his hands disappear from your hair and he slouches back onto the couch; his features showing no signs but pure satisfaction.
You press one last kiss to his cock, a warm goodbye- for now- and help him tuck his spent length back into his briefs.
He looks at you with that after-orgasm glow, and your breaths quicken as your core throbs with need.
You ignore the impulse to jump on his dick and ride it to no remorse, straddling him instead.
You've always loved cuddles after sex, and while he preferred cigarettes, you were nothing but a romantic in bed compared to him.
He holds your jaw in place as he joins your lips to his, his tongue invading your mouth. Just the single thought of him wanting to taste himself throws your senses into overdrive, and you let out a whimper.
Not wanting to tire him out any further, you pull away.
"Come on, let's head to bed." As you try to get up and ready for a good night's sleep, him holding you in place doesn't let you.
You can't budge as he kisses you again and pulls away only to say, "Nuh-uh" rather sassily.
"Yuh-huh." You respond with the same sassy tone he used, which causes him to smile against your lips.
You can physically feel every single part of your body melt into him.
You've always loved when he smiles against your lips, but now that you're horny out of your mind, he's so incredibly hard to resist.
He swallows your moan when he cups your ass and squeezes.
"I love you, Jungkook." You play with his hair.
"I love you more, baby."
"No, you don't." You challenge.
"Yeah? might need to suck me off again for a reminder." The taken-aback expression on your face elicits a proud chuckle from him before he kisses you again.
He just can't get enough of your lips.
Or your body.
Or you.
His lips inch toward your throat as he basically colors your neck with purplish marks.
You shiver before you realize where this is going.
Sly motherfucker. (full of love, like, not in a rude way).
"Jungkook."
A warning and a dare.
He looks at you with hooded, lustful eyes, even though he just came about five minutes ago.
"I'm not done with you yet." His dark tone catches your attention, and you choose wisely not to argue.
"My turn."
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should i make a third part 🙊
@hoseokteardrop @nochuel @kaitieskidmore97 @nays2112 @jksoftii @yu-justme @meadow-in-spring @bunnykoos @looneybleus @fushigurosdarling @alpha-mommy69 @junecat18 @xjiminsthighsx @tanniesdolls @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @whoa-jo @ahgasegotarmy116 @jksusawife @frgetmenotz @baechugff @partyparty-yah @army130613210521 @drugerlime @allisonstone @hopekive @llallaaa @tarahardcore @hopetookmysoul @betysotelo18 @harmonic55 @ecrvea @awesomebabyyoda @peterstarkchrishiddleston @pinkrockstar19 @sweetestseoul @luv--youu @mochminnie @coletaehyung @whitelies2248-blog @ash07128 @bangtans-momma @yourbobaeyestell @laylasbunbunny @btsnpniff @olimpiiaa @caro134340lina
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kaiijo · 1 year
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HOT THINGS HE DOES — [BLUE LOCK]
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characters: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, kunigami rensuke, nagi seishiro, chigiri hyoma, itoshi rin, barou shouei content: gn! reader, kind of but not really suggestive content notes: a new day, a new way for me to simp for the blue lock boys
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⋆。° isagi yoichi
his intense eye contact has you feeling hot all over. like when you’re talking or doing something that demands attention from him, isagi is focused. only. on. you. literally nothing can break his eye contact
not only is his stare (he’s got pretty eyes!!) but it’s also because it shows that he’s attentive and listening and actually actively engaging with whatever you’re doing or saying and there’s nothing more attractive than that
⋆。° bachira meguru
he has a habit of poking his tongue into his inner cheek when he’s focused on something or when he’s revved up and ready to go, he runs his tongue over the bottom of his front teeth
it’s just whenever he really does anything with his tongue and it has you contemplating whether or not it’s an appropriate time to pull him away from whatever activity he’s doing  
⋆。° kunigami rensuke
he pulls your chair closer to his. like if he thinks you’re too far away or he can’t hear you, he’s grabbing the leg of your chair that’s closest to him and dragging you over, draping his arm over the back of the chair
it makes your face burst into flames every time, especially when he gives you a satisfied smile and smirk and tells you to continue on doing whatever you were doing or saying
⋆。° nagi seishiro
he leans one arm against the doorway or leans on the top of the doorway with his hands. because nagi’s so tall, it’s just a reflex to lean his weight towards the top of doorways
it’s the nonchalance of the action that gets you. you’ll just be talking to him and he’ll do this and it’s so effortlessly cool and casual, and coupled with his heavy-lidded, constantly sleepy stare and a tilt of his head, it all has your heart skipping beats
⋆。° chigiri hyoma
when he’s holding you anywhere (hand, waist, etc) he likes to draw shapes and patterns on your skin. like, you two will be sitting across from each other at a restaurant or something and holding hands and as he listens to you, he’s tracing random swirls on the back of your hand with his thumb or when he’s got his arm around your waist, he’s doing the same on your hip
it’s the delicate, elegant motions of his fingers and the lingering heat that has your own face warming rapidly and it doubles as something that you find hot as well as something that’s soothing to you as well
⋆。° itoshi rin
he wears a tight black t-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants. that’s it, that’s the tweet.
you’ve seen him in a number of form-fitting ensembles but in this one you can definitely see all the planes and angles of his muscular body and he looks so cuddly and boyfriend-y at the same time. it takes everything in you not to jump him when he wears this combo, especially in the morning when his hair’s a mess and his voice is hoarse from sleep
⋆。° barou shouei
it’s the typical resting his arm on the headrest of your car seat and backing the car up. you thank every higher power around whenever he has to reverse park because you get to watch him do it a lot
it’s a universal phenomenon of hotness that you’re not even sure why it attracts you (maybe it’s the way you can see the impression of a vein in his neck or the sharp angle of his jaw or it’s just the confidence he does it with) but there’s something about it that sends butterflies flitting in your stomach
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hp-hcs · 3 months
Note
i see your theo and mattheo are bottoms post so i ask of you BOTTOM 👏🏻 YANDERE 👏🏻 FICS 👏🏻 i'd go feral if you dropped any plsplspls 😭‼️
• smut • hook up boyfriend — yandere! switch! theodore nott x male! switch! toxic! reader
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look at this little bottom bitch he’s mine back off
so, my boyfriend proofreads most of my works on here, and i gave him my rough draft for this ask. he then said, and i quote, "jesus christ, [hp-hcs]. you write smut like a nun." and then he took my phone from me. so basically, this is a long winded way of saying that my boyfriend helped me write all the smexy stuff. tell me if I should let him keep helping me or if he's a god awful smut writer who should not be allowed within a hundred feet of my tumblr, mkay?
INCREDIBLY TOXIC READER JFC WHYD I MAKE YOU SUCH A MANIPULATIVE BASTARD IDK
WARNINGS: SMUT MDNI, amab reader, switch reader, implied unprotected sex w/ multiple sexual partners (you’re not magic irl. wrap it before you tap it.), lot of power dynamic changes—traditional top dom/bottom sub but also some top sub/bottom dom stuff as well, toxic shit in general, lot of manipulation, pretty mild yandere from theo, degradation, praise
i’m of the opinion that theo would be a bottom/dom just so that he could save face for posterity
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
“What do you mean I can’t hook up with him?”
“Because you’re already hooking up with me!”
“So? We’re not exclusive, Theodore.”
“Yeah, but-”
“Friends with benefits. That’s it. I’m not beholden to give you my loyalty and undivided attention, dipshit.”
Theo growls and runs a hand through his hair while he paces around his dorm. You lay back on his bed, watching him with a bored expression.
“But he’s my best friend, Y/n!”
“Mhm. He’s also a damn good fuck.”
“I don’t need to know that!”
“Why not? You seem to enjoy fucking your friends, no?” You shrug, stretching out across his bed without a single care. “Maybe you ought to add Matty to your hook up rotation.”
“Matty?”
“Yeah? I’ve got nicknames for all my partners, Teddy-Bear.”
“All?!” Theo splutters. “Well- well, tell me this. Does he even satisfy you? Do you ever think of me when he’s fucking you?”
“He’s the bottom, actually.”
“Wh- huh?”
“He’s the bottom,” you repeat. “Why are you shocked? You’re well aware I’m a switch, Theo. And everyone knows that Mattheo is a Bottom-with-a-capital-B.”
A flame of white-hot jealousy heats up Theo’s skin. He grits his teeth in barely-restrained anger; it’s as if just saying the wrong thing right now would cause him to snap and go hunt down Riddle to put his head on a pike.
“I could be your Bottom-with-a-capital-B. You don’t need Riddle. You’re mine, and I’m yours. Got that?”
You snort. “No offense, Teddy, but I couldn’t see you bottoming in a million years. You’re my top hook up. I’ve got bottom hook ups so that you don’t have to do that.”
He stubbornly crosses his arms over his chest. “Well, maybe it’s high time you teach me how to bottom then. I don’t want you seeing other people. Especially if it’s just because they give you something I’m too chicken to.”
You blink. “Huh. That’s some weirdly endearing possessive dedication, love.”
“I aim to please,” he says dryly, those unnervingly dead eyes of his seeming like they could see inside your soul when he stares at you.
You consider the offer before a wicked grin slowly spreads across your face. “I bet you do, darling.”
~~~
"Sh-shit! Fuck! Y-Y/n, I-"
“You gonna cum, pretty boy? Hm? Already?” He whimpers and nods frantically, his fingers scrabbling for hold on your shoulders and leaving stinging nail-bitten marks across your back.
Your teasing relents a bit at the sight of his blissed-out expression. Theo’s mouth hangs open in ecstasy, his eyes shut tightly and his back arching up from the mattress.
You groan at the sight of him splayed out under you. You grip his cock, reveling in his whimpers, and quickly start jacking him off in time to your thrusts. “C’mon, baby. You can do it. Be a good boy for me.”
His entire body stiffens as he cums with a moan that would make even a Muggle porn star blush.
You groan and start to slow down, but before you can fully pull out, he locks his knees around your hips to keep you in place.
"D-don't you fucking dare. More.”
“More?” You tease gently, hesitant to continue despite his request. “What a fucking slut you are, Teddy-Bear. Insatiable.”
He growls at your hesitance, far too impatient for that kind of bullshit.
He grips your shoulders, his knees tightening around your hips again as he uses all of that hot boy quidditch strength to roll you both over.
You let out a tiny yelp of surprise as he flips you onto your back. He whimpers loudly and moans at the shift in position, having to tuck his face into your neck for a moment while he collects himself.
Your hand moves up to comb your fingers through his hair, but he knocks it away before you can.
He sits up, supporting his weight with his hands flat on your chest, and takes a shaky breath at the shift of positions. “Want you t’ cum too.”
Your hands find his hips and grip them firmly, your breath becoming uneven as he starts to grind back and forth.
You help him raise himself up then lower his body again, listening to his sweet moans. As he finds a steady rhythm, you watch as his thighs begin to tremble.
“Merlin- I’ll never complain about you getting tired while riding me ever again. This is a fucking workout.”
“You’ll be fine. You’re not on the quidditch team for nothing.”
That was apparently the wrong thing to say.
His face darkens.
Maybe he just doesn’t like me bringing up his teammates while we’re literally fucking, you consider. Maybe he-
“How good of a fuck is Riddle anyways, huh? Could he ever ride you like this?”
Ah.
Fuck.
Mattheo’s on the quidditch team as well.
Theo starts moving with passion, roughly slamming down on you. “I asked you a question.”
“G-god- Theo!” You gasp, caught off guard by the sudden influx of sensations.
“Answer me.”
You whine and scratch your short fingernails over his abs, marveling at the pink and red lines that bloom at the surface a half-second later. “C-could never be as good as you, love. Shit- you’re perfect.”
He shivers at the sensation and grins slyly. “Perfect, huh?”
“Perfect,” you repeat, cupping the back of his neck and pulling him in for a slow kiss.
He sighs against your lips, returning the kiss. The sweet moment is cut off by you suddenly jerking your hips up into him and cursing loudly.
“Fuck- you feel so fucking good, babe-”
He gasps and his fingers claw frantically at your shoulders for any kind of support. “Merlin- I’m gonna-”
You watch as Theo’s second orgasm hits him and he goes practically boneless, slumping over on top of you.
He’s spasming around you like mad, and you can’t help but moan loudly when you cum just seconds later.
You both lay there in silence for a moment, trying to catch your breaths. Theo slowly eases himself off of your dick and rolls over to lay beside you.
“What‘s the final verdict?” You grin cheekily after a moment. “You a pillow prince now or nah?”
“Mmm…nah. I think I can settle for the label of switch though.”
“Aha! Welcome to the dark side!”
“Yeah, yeah. Shush. Now, roll over, I’m on top this time.”
~~~
“I heard you’re going steady with someone now.”
“Mm…mhm,” Theo hums an affirmative around the cigarette in his mouth, one hand cupped around the flame of his lighter as he lit it.
“Who’s the lucky fella?”
“Your ex-fuckbuddy.”
“Which one?”
“Y/n.”
Mattheo’s brow furrows. “Y/n? Y/n and I have never slept together.”
Theo suddenly launches into a coughing fit as he chokes on his lungful of smoke. “What?”
“Now, don’t get me wrong. I’d hit that in a heartbeat if he offered. But, I’m also like ninety percent sure that you’d kill me if I did that, and I rather enjoy being not-murdered, believe it or not. He is incredibly hot though.”
Theo just stared, his mouth hanging open.
You never slept with Mattheo?
What?
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
• standalone!! •
i will not be writing a part two!!
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droopycoquette · 7 months
Text
WOSO Couple Tings || Mapi Leon
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(why is she the girlfriendiest girlfriend to ever girlfriend??!!?!!)
Warnings: just mapi dating headcanons, fluff, suggestive content
Word count: .5k
|*|
-Sometimes she puts her hands in your bra when they’re cold and your whole body gets a shock before goosebumps break out all over
-she loves doing this because she can feel your nipples going from soft to hard and it's so satisfying, its also the perfect hand warmer(her words), and your boobs are so soft, she also loves the look on your face when she does this. It's usually a mixture of shocked and annoyed, however, how can you say no to a free boob massage
-You get her back with your cold feet on her back. It brings you joy to see her flinch and arch her back to get away from you. 
-tracing her tattoos when you're bored and her loving the feeling of your fingers trailing over her skin
-“I really like this one.”
-“Yo se mi vida.”
-you only getting tattoos that are designed by her and letting her give you stick and pokes. 
-You being the only one that cooks because if Mapi touches a single frying pan the whole kitchen goes up in flames(she did find a way to start a fire on the stove and, that day, Mapi learned that you can put a fire out with salt(the more you know ig))
-Her doing the dishes to make up for the fact that she can’t cook. She actually loves doing it because you usually hug her from behind the entire time
-you finding edits of her online and sending them to her, just to annoy her
-”How are you finding these?”
-”I think you look hot.”
-”You know what else is hot?”
-”Que?”
-”Hell.”
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(she's sick of ur shit)
-You don’t stop though and it is the bane of her existence
-Her storage being taken up by pictures of you. You and her cat,  you eating, you sleeping, you doing dumb shit. You, you, you. She loves scrolling through the pictures when she’s bored, it brings a smile to her face every time. Her favorite one is of you sleeping in her old kit, drool rolling down your chin and leaving a wet spot on the pillow
-Her taking you to the stadium at night and teaching you different moves. You fail every time but Mapi finds it endearing
-”It’s okay hermosa, E for effort!”
-You run out of breath within 30 seconds of running and Mapi laughs at your lack of endurance. You fall onto your back, starfishing in the middle of the pitch
-”You lasted longer than last time,” she laughs.
-”Can you shut up?”
-Mapi laughing and lying down with her head next to yours. 
-When you begin to space off, Mapi rolls over and lets herself look at you. She loves the wonder in your eyes as you gaze at the sky and she wishes she had her phone with her to capture it. 
-”It’s so weird,” you start. “On TV, they make the field look so small. But in person it’s huge.”
-De verdad?”
-You nod, your eyes still wide at your realization. Mapi chuckles at your face and gets up, moving to lay next to you, and placing her head on your chest.
-If there was one thing Mapi loved most, it was being in your arms
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sashi-ya · 7 months
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𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟑 DAY 10: IMPREGNATION Sabo 𝘹 𝘍! 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
Requested by: anon ➡Hi! I wanted to ask for a kink in your kinktober event? Day 10 with Sabo! With a Fem reader please 🙏🏻 I never find things for him 😭 Thanks! tw: mdni. impregnation. rough sex. choking. mentions of pregnancy. 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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He always wanted to, and you did too. But there was a big sense of responsibility in him,and being a father now wasn’t at all in his plans. But that night, when he couldn’t resist himself no more, and a dark aura of lust engulfed his mind, things changed.
That day, while you scrolled through the endless mild entertaining twitter posts, you found a video where a couple of youngsters indulging in "cream pie activities". So, you had no option but to text your man. You thought of attaching the link, but considering he was probably spending his morning on a uni lecture, and that his mind runs wild when you only give him a little, the best option was still a plain -but hot- text.
10:30  • 𝙮𝙤𝙪 ↷ when will you fill me up, hun? I want your warm cum flooding my insides, aren’t you willing to do it? Don’t you wanna fuck me rough and violent? I want you to do it, daddy ~ 10:32 • 𝙨𝙖𝙗𝙤🎩↷ babe? I’m in class, what- what the hell? 10:33 • 𝙨𝙖𝙗𝙤🎩↷ We will speak when I’m home… 10:34 • 𝙨𝙖𝙗𝙤🎩↷ Was that necessary? Ugh…
You giggled and continued with your day. Perhaps it was nothing, maybe it did make a difference… who knows?
You received many messages throughout the day, but, as a good player you left them on read. Let the man desire your body, let Sabo turn desperate for your attention. You knew there had to be a way to light a sparkle of darkness inside of him, because you still wanted to try how far he could go.
By the time the night came, you totally thought he would be too tired to even remember the initial text, and that he was probably mad at you for not answering. And you weren’t totally wrong.
The sound of keys moving alerts you from him coming home. And you wait peacefully sitting on the couch while watching a pirates tv show for his at least annoyed questions.
“(NAME)!” he demands your presence when he gets inside and takes off his coat.
You close your eyes, ready to act as if nothing happened. “I’m here, sitting on the couch” you tell him.
There is silence, complete silence, before the loud stomps of his winter boots fly to the other side of the living room.
“You in the couch doing what? Mh?” he asks, getting in between you and the television.
You widen your eyes; he is mad mad. Not just mad. “I- hi? Did you eat? Do you want me to cook fo-“
Sabo shuts you up with his strong hand over your mouth. While the other hand rips your blanket away.
You let him do it. You want him to show you the wild side he has been holding back. And to top it all off, your hand reaches for his belt. You can’t actually pull from it, but your nails can barely graze the leather around his hips. That, in any case, works perfectly fine as a flame fan.
The blonde pinches your cheeks and move your head to the side. He notices your smirk, and with his lips pressed against your temple he murmurs a “fuck”.
Sabo needs you now. He has been hard since morning, don’t prolong his suffering…
“You wanted for my warm cum to fill you up, mh? Then spread your legs for me. You will be overflowing with it until I am satisfied and you pregnant as hell”  he grunts, being nothing but delicate.
It makes you shiver, and your panties to go dripping wet. “Fill me up and leave me pregnant as much you wish, daddy ~” you purr, causing him to grunt loudly.
Sabo proceeds to grab you by your neck, squeezing enough to make you dizzy but for oxygen to keep flowing. He seems like a professional doing this, even if this is the first time doing such thing to you.
As he keeps choking you, Sabo pulls down your pants with enough strength to rip them in one swift motion.
“You wanted me to become this way, didn’t you?” he asks, panting, looking straight into the wet spot on your panties. “Look how wet you are for my cock…”
You look at him with the slutiest eyes he has ever seen, and sticking your tongue out you give him total submission. His metallic grey eyes shine, Sabo is desperate to fuck you, hard.
“Give it to me, daddy… pwease” you moan, spreading your legs. “This is gonna get you so fucking pregnant…” he murmurs, while letting his pants fall to the ground. Sabo proceeds to carve his knee against the coach in between your legs. And then a quick pump on his throbbing, almost painfully, hardness.
A violent swing turns you slightly to the side, he needs the perfect position to get deep inside you.
Sabo first grazes your dampened panties with his precum sprouting tip. The grace of the lace against his gland, makes his toes curl. While you, feeling the pressure of his irreverent pushing on your clit, desperately wish for him to already move the fabric once and for all. And even if a good measure to punish you would be to make you wait, Sabo simply can’t resist the urge to penetrate your walls.
“Daddy… please~” you whine, begging. “Desperate for my cum, little bitch?” he scoffs, pulling your panties to the side with such force it makes your panties sewing to suffer.
He doesn’t even take the time to pull your underwear off, Sabo simply pulls them to the side to finally guide his cock towards your entrance. He plays with the tip, getting it fully coated with your needy elixirs.
You squirm and buck up your hips for him to go deeper. Your nails carve on his strong forearms and they don’t leave marks until he rams so hard into you.
“Fuck, Sabo!” you mewl, you could feel his intrusion up in your stomach if you had to describe it. But it seems not to be enough for him…
Sabo smirks, and quickly grabs your right ankle to pull it up. “Mh? What? Do you think you will get impregnated if I don’t go deep enough? No, (Name). I gotta make sure it gets there…” he says, while dropping your leg on top of his left shoulder.
You widen your eyes. If the last ram got that deep, now… you are not sure if it will be possible.
But it is. And your back arches. And you moan even louder.
Sabo sweats by how fast and hard he is going in and out, and even sometimes up too. Those are specially strong, making you to feel like losing the total control of your body. You feel like bursting, he does too.
Sabo always wanted to fill you up. To impregnate you with his seed. But always held back. But not tonight…
As you tremble in orgasmic spasms, he enjoys your walls milking him. Your anatomy gives the young politics student, the last kick for climax to take over.
His mind blurs. His eyes get fixed on yours. Lips semi apart, not even growling, just panting like a beast in heat.
“There. Is. No coming..back- Name, take my cum and don’t you dare let it waste…” he moans.
“Make me pregnant, daddy… I want my belly full of it” you whine, in between the shivers your orgasm gives you.
“pl-ease…. hold it… in…. I love you” “with great plea-ngh… I love you more”
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taglist: @stephisokay @henrioo @shuzuiikoii @bullbonez @fengxinwifutobecalled @i-started-reading-fanfics-at12 @crimsonlikeshellsing @weebare808 @thestarwasborn @bookandyarndragon @cyberdazetragedy @uzxotic & @kwnblack cause husband 💖🙆‍♀️
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beenbaanbuun · 7 days
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Can we please have more interactions between darling and yeosang 😭 they’re so cute wtf I love the whole addams matz universe so muuuuch! Like when they hang out while mommy and daddy are busy or when she’s cuddling him and he’s annoyed but not annoyed lol or even them eating snacks together
you can tell yeosang is fed up by the way he keeps sighing. the ears atop his head twitch every so often, and his tail keeps flicking in agitation. you can’t lie, you actually find it rather amusing, watching him so desperately try to keep his annoyance to a minimum as you play with the hem of his sweater. you wonder how far you can push him before the switch in his brain flips.
“cant you go and bother someone else?” he grumbles after you ‘accidentally’ scrape your nails against the bare skin of his side. it doesn’t tickle him like you hoped it would, but the irritated grumble you get from him is satisfying enough. you’re about to do it again when he slams his own hand down onto yours and shoots you a glare. “i’m serious! find someone else to annoy before you push me too far.”
you scoff as you let yourself relax fully on top of him. such a boring little mutt, you think as you snuggle the side of your face into his fuzzy jumper. at least he’s good to cuddle with, even if it doesn’t help you release all that mischievous energy that’s been building up inside of you since hongjoong and seonghwa left you to your devices first thing this morning. you could’ve really done with a little help from mommy and daddy to release it all, but since they’re both busy…
you groan into yeosang’s stomach, “who else am i supposed to annoy, hm? daddy is out and mommy told me not to disturb him for another—” you spare a glance at the clock, “—3 fucking hours? please, sangie! i’m going to die of boredom if you expect me to just lie here and do nothing…”
“at least i’ll get a little peace and quiet,” he jests, earning a glare from you. the look on your face only makes him grin, sharp canines glinting under the flames of the candlelit chandelier. it’s such a pretty smile for such a rude creature; you almost wish you could wipe it off of his equally pretty face. you hope the harsh slap to his shoulder with your free hand will do the trick.
“you’re mean, yeosang,” you grumble as you pull your other hand free from his grasp. it’s harder than it looks—damned werewolf and his weirdly muscular body—but you’re more determined than yeosang gives you credit for. sure, it hurts a little as you finally tug your fingers loose, but you still give a cheer of celebration, wiggling them in his face to antagonise him. “i’m sure seonghwa won’t appreciate it when i tell him just how mean you’ve been to me.”
the threat is empty and the both of you know that. seonghwa would turn you away if you rushed to him now. it’s hardly like it’s an emergency, and your lover is far too busy to deal with such trivial matters as yeosang teasing you a little. you wouldn’t get much more than a side-eye and a slap on the thigh before being sent on your way. of course you could wait until seonghwa is finished, but by then you’ll have probably forgotten the whole ‘i’m going to tell on you,’ schtick you have going on right now.
“be my guest, little lady,” yeosang smirks, hands lifting up in a gesture of surrender, “go have a chat with your precious mommy and see where that gets you. but don’t come crying to me when you get saddled with a punishment later, yeah?”
honestly, a punishment sounds nice right about now. something to get all this annoying energy out of you. it would tire you out, make you all floppy and docile like yeosang clearly wants you to be. you’re almost tempted to do as he says; to go and bother seonghwa until he gives you that familiar look that means you’re in deep trouble. maybe he’ll take care of you right there on his workbench…
although probably not. the greenhouse is a sacred space for seonghwa, not to be desecrated by any sort of sexual deviancy. sure, you might be slapped with a punishment, but you’d almost certainly be forced to wait for it. those three hours would be painful for both you and yeosang, and you’re not sure the wolf would put up with your anxious fidgeting for too long. he’d probably abandon you in the living room, taking himself up to his room to do whatever the fuck he does in there. you’d be left and anxious mess, waiting for a punishment that would take entirely too long to come.
you give a dejected sigh before relaxing against the werewolf once more. the low chuckle he gives you rumbles deep within his chest and you can’t help but press your ear against his rib cage in the hopes of hearing more of the pretty sound. a hand finds it way to your head, petting and stoking you as if you’re the pet in this situation. if you weren’t enjoying the feeling of his claws scraping against your scalp, you would’ve scoffed at him and moved away. it really does suck that he’s managed to learn all of your soft spots from all the hours spent watching you with seonghwa and hongjoong. he really does know how to make you submit.
“that’s it, pup,” he chuffs, “just relax for now. you can get all that energy fucked out of you later, hm?”
“yeosang!”
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cevansbrat0007 · 1 year
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Easy, Baby
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Summary: Ari just wants to do his part to help you relax.
Warnings: Mature Themes, Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Fingering, Bubble Baths, Cursing, Minors DNI
A/N: This random bit of Ari goodness is dedicated to @curls-and-eyeliner, @blogbog710, and @writer84. As well as anyone else who could use some love after a long day. Not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. Thanks for reading!
___
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“Hello..?” You push open the partially cracked door to your bathroom. “Ari, are you in here?” Clad in only a pink satin robe – a gift that had been waiting for you on the table when you’d gotten home – you take a tentative step inside.
Only to stop short when you’re greeted by the sight of candles strewn about the dimly lit room. For a moment you stand in the doorway, content to watch the flames dance as they cast intimate shadows along the walls.
“Welcome home, Bird.” Your man smiles at you from his perch on the edge of the tub. He dips a finger in the water, testing the temperature. “I see you found your gift. How’s the fit?” Satisfied that it’s to his liking, he turns off the faucet to give you his full attention.
“It’s…it’s great. Gorgeous, actually” You respond, absently toying with the garment’s belt. “But what’s all this?”    
“Just a little something to help you relax.” Ari simply shrugs before motioning for you to do a little twirl, which you do. He groans low in his throat when he gets a good look at your ass. “You said you had a long day. Which may or may not have come at the end of an even longer week. So I thought that…” 
He trails off before rising to his feet to bridge the distance between you in three long strides. Using two fingers he tilts your chin so that you’re gazing into his eyes. You don’t need him to tell you that you looked tired, not when the exhaustion you felt was written so plainly all over your face. 
 “I just thought that we’d see to it that you got a good night’s sleep.” Ari leans in to gently brush his lips over yours. It’s not quite a tease, but nonetheless, you find yourself offering up your willing mouth for more. 
Right now you wanted everything that your thoughtful Beast was willing to offer. Plus a little extra.
“I’m okay. But I could use more kisses though.” Standing on your tiptoes you go to nip at his jaw, relishing the deep growl that rumbles in his chest. “Now, please.” 
Instead of giving in like you expect him to, Ari pulls away – eliciting a whine from you before you can stop it. You’re just about to tell him that you’re willing to forgo sleep in favor of satisfying another, much more primal, urge when his hands suddenly begin undoing the haphazardly tied knot on your robe. 
“Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re not in charge right now.” A wolfish grin slowly spreads across his handsome features as he slides the garment off your shoulders, content to let it fall to the floor at your feet.  
“But –” Granted, he rarely ever let you be in charge. But still… 
“Hush.” His tone, while soft, brooks no room for argument. “Now, let’s get you into the bath while the water’s still warm.” Picking up your now nude body, he carries you to the tub before gently lowering you down into the heated depths.
It was your favorite feature – this custom built fixture that was big enough to accommodate both you and your mountain of a boyfriend. 
You can’t help but sigh in bliss as the water envelopes you, acting as a soothing balm for your weary muscles. “You coming?” Your eyes slowly droop as Ari makes quick work of stripping off his clothes, tossing his black sweats into a random corner of the room. 
“Now, I’d have to be awfully stupid to refuse an offer like that.” 
Less than a moment later, your man helps you sit up so that he can join you. Water sloshes this way and that, threatening to spill over the edge out of the tub as he gets settled. And then his thick arms wrap themselves around your middle, tugging you close so that you’re resting against the broad expanse of his chest. 
“Comfortable?” Ari’s large, slightly roughened hands go to massage away any residual tenseness in your shoulders. He presses a sweet kiss against the shell of your ear, enjoying the way you shiver at his touch.  
“Very.” Your head falls to the side to grant him greater access to your throat. He buries his nose in the crook of your neck, letting his teeth graze over your thrumming pulse. His chestnut brown locks tickle your skin as he continues to lavish you with his own special brand of attention.
Some days you were so incredibly grateful to belong to this beautiful man. He always took such good care of you – worshiped you, even. Ari Levinson was the type who prided himself on loving his woman in all the ways she desperately needed to be loved.
“I can practically hear the wheels turning in that beautiful mind of yours, Bird.” Ari whispers a feverish litany of kisses down the back of your neck, emitting a low moan of pleasure as he does. “What’s going on up there?” 
Your man was starving for a taste of you. And he was becoming hungrier by the second. But before he took you in all the ways he’d spent the day fantasizing about, he was going to see to it that you were sufficiently relaxed. 
Right now nothing else in the world mattered. Not work. Not deadlines. Nothing. It was just you and Ari. The two of you, together against the world.   
“It – it’s not all that important. At least not really.” You tell him, lifting your arms out of the water to wind them around his neck from behind. “You’re what matters, honey.”
“Oh yeah?” One of Ari’s hands leaves your shoulders to dip between your breasts, his wandering fingers pausing briefly to pinch your nipple.
“Yes. What really fucking matters is that, after a terrible fucking day, I get to come home to you and…” An unexpected lump forms in your throat. “...We get to be together like this. I’m just so unbelievably grateful for that, you know?”
Ari hums in approval as he moves on, tracing a sensual path along your skin. His hand splays across your belly so that he can draw you closer to his body, letting you feel the physical proof of his unquenched desire. 
“You sure seem happy.” You muse, arching your back when you feel his eager fingers find their way below the water’s surface in search of new and exciting territory. A small whine escapes when he parts your sensitive folds to play with your aching clit. 
“Always am when I’m with you.” He rasps, his tone laced with satisfaction as your hips buck sharply, sending water sloshing over the side of the tub. “The way I see it, I’ve gotta do everything in my power to keep you in my home and in my bed. And if it means I have to subject myself to a little bubble bath every now and again to make sure you never think of leaving me, then so be it.”
You let out a snort before you can catch it. Sometimes your boyfriend was capable of conjuring up the most ridiculous scenarios, including the occasional one that had him convinced that he didn’t deserve you.      
Fucking bullshit if you’d ever heard it. Your handsome beast had clearly taken one too many blows to the head. 
“Ari…” You murmur, your voice filled with quiet amusement. “I think that for this to be a bubble bath there’d have to be, oh, I don’t know, some actual freaking bubbles. And you’d – ooh!” 
One sly finger enters you, slowly pumping in and out of your inviting heat. Ari then uses his free hand to lift your leg up and onto the edge of the bath, opening you up to his hedonistic assault. Soon a second digit joins the first, curling and twisting inside you as he works to find your spot.
That special spot he knew would have fireworks and magic dancing behind your eyes. 
“Now look here, woman.” He growls as he slowly increases his pace. “You’ve got a lot of pretty smelling, frilly shit to choose from in that closet. Any man could get overwhelmed, just like I did. So how about you do me a kindness and pretend we’re swimming in some bubbles, okay?” His teeth go back to nipping at your ear, playfully sucking the lobe into his warm mouth. 
“O–okay, Beast.” The soft mewl spills its way past your lips as the heel of his big palm begins to grind against your swollen bud. “Aww, fu–fuck! Ari!” Your hips move in time with his erotic ministrations as he pushes you higher and higher. 
You feel the coil in your belly tighten, pleasure steadily coursing through your veins. Meanwhile, your man’s hand remains on your thigh – holding you open for him. Forcing you to take everything he’s hellbent on giving you.
“Swear to God, you’ve got the tightest, sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted.” Ari’s sinful whisper has your eyes fluttering closed as your fingers reach up to tease your nipple, sending white-hot sparks shooting straight to your core. “Did you know that? Hmm?”
“Ungh!” You whine, your hips jerking in his hold as your man continues to play your body like you’re his favorite instrument. Your hand then cups your heavy breast, wantonly kneading the tempting weight as goosebumps breakout across your heated flesh.  
Fuck! This was too much!
You try to pull away as the sheer force of your pleasure threatens to overwhelm you. “Aww. Don’t go runnin’ on me, Bird.” His grip on your thigh loosens so that he can once again wrap a muscled arm around your waist to keep you still. “Don’t run. Not unless you want your Beast to give chase.” 
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Comes your breathless chant as he continues to stoke the flames of your passion. “God–fuck–Ari–pleeease!” You wail as your mind is robbed of all sense. 
You were so desperate for release. So fucking close you could practically taste your impending orgasm. And then your man picks that moment to slant his mouth over yours, catching a wild sob as it bubbles its way out of your chest. 
“Easy, baby.” Ari soothes, his tongue sweeping past your lips to dominate your mouth. “That’s it. Give me a good one.” He briefly pulls away to nibble his way along your jaw, teasing you to the brink. “Be sweet and show me you can do as you’re told.” 
“Oo–fuuuck!” You cry as you crest over the edge of hedonistic madness into bliss. More water spills out of the tub and onto the floor, but you’re beyond caring right now. 
Ari always made you want to be so good for him. He craved your submission the same way you craved his rewards. And he was never one to disappoint. 
He doesn’t stop, determined to push you even further. Your chest heaves as raw, unfiltered ecstasy makes your body sing. Ari’s heavy erection rests against your back, his cock twitching when notices the way your toes curl. It’s a deliciously carnal reminder of the exciting pleasures yet to come.          
Only when the haze begins to clear do you finally notice how cool the water has become. But Ari isn’t done with you, not by longshot. 
“That was a good one, Bird.” He leans forward to turn on the tap, all the while continuing to lazily pet and caress your still spasming cunt. “Bet it tasted even better.” You don’t respond, you’re brain too busy balancing your frenzied, buzzing nerves.  
“I’m going to heat things up. While we wait, how about we see if you can give me one more like I know you can, hm?” Ari whispers a kiss across your damp brow. It’s followed by a sensual brush of his fingers over your sensitive clit. 
“That way your Beast will know when you’re officially nice and relaxed.”
END
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takami-takami · 1 year
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Accidents.
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includes— hawks x reader. minors dni. suggestive.
warnings— daddy kink. predator/prey undertones. keigo being a meanie.
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You wish the ground would just swallow you whole before his smug look does.
"Don't let it get to your head! Keigo—" You squeak, covering your own face with one hand and pushing his away with the other. Your palm does nothing to quell the mischievous laughing fit that your boyfriend doesn't seem to have the courtesy nor self control to keep to himself.
Don't let it get to his head? His head couldn't be any bigger in this moment.
He seizes the opening to situate himself on top of you with ease, keeping you caged beneath him so he can bear witness to the full extent of your misery. Your hands lie helpless, locked under his hold and pinned above your head to leave you wide open. He wants nothing obstructing his view of your dreadfully desperate squirms.
He considers locking your legs in place beneath his, too. It wouldn't be difficult at all to overpower you, but the butterfly kicks behind his back that ruffle the sheets beneath are just too delicious to watch.
Your bedroom has become a locked box of your whimpers and flails, and he loves it. What he wouldn't give to cage you here and throw away the key.
"Keigo...? Sorry, dunno who that is." His eyes roll in time with his shoulders, while that wicked grin never falters.
"Could've sworn you were just calling me something else," he sings above you. He purses his lips like he just can't catch his thought. Bastard. You'd be screaming into your hands if you had access to them. "What was it you said... What was it..." he hums a devilish, giddy tune, turning to catch your eye.
"Care to remind me?"
"You're an asshole!"
"No, that's not quite what you called me."
You huff in response, opting to stare at the ceiling behind him. Anywhere but that stupid, god-awful, pretty face of his. Maybe if you try to pull your wrists free, he'd take pity on you and— nope, still not giving an inch of leeway.
He notices your weak attempt. Poor thing, he thinks. You don't actually think there's anywhere to run, do you? Your halfhearted flailing underneath him is cute though, he'll give you that. So cute. Almost as cute as your little slip-up that got you into this fucking mess.
This is your mess, you know. You did start it, after all, and who is Keigo if not a man who finishes the job? It'd be criminal to not keep this game going for as long as it'll take to satisfy his instinct to torment you.
He's not a sadist, he swears.
He just knows prey when he sees it.
"Kei', I didn't— can you please just let this go?" You finally look at him with those puppy dog eyes. In another circumstance, they would get him to do whatever you want; but for once, he decides to be selfish. He's just having too much fun.
"Why should I? Don't tell me you're embarassed," he posits, as if you aren't the picture of shame incarnate beneath him. "Nothin' to be embarassed about, doll." He closes the gap between you, nose barely brushing the line of your jaw before he dares to have a taste. "Plenty of people would jump at the oppurtunity to call me da—"
"Hawks!"
"Oooh, yet another name and you still won't repeat the one from earlier. Gonna hurt my feelings, baby." Raptor eyes zero in on the juncture of your neck. When you strain to turn your head away from him, you leave your jugular completely exposed. He sighs. You're fucking helpless. He supposes that's why he's the pro hero, and you're just the little hare captured betwixt his talons. 
With a finality settling in his gut, he latches on and sinks his canines into you. You go limp below with the hitch of a breath, kicks slowing to a halt.
"You know, I think I like this." When his hands release yours, he's sure your muscles won't even twitch. Frozen under his spell, you are the moth to his proverbial flame; the rabbit in his headlights.
"I think that name is already one of my favorites. You'll say it again for me, won't you? Tell me..."
"Who's your fucking daddy?"
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kingtomura · 1 month
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Deja Vu | 1 | January Embers
summary: Your best friend died years ago. He went up in flames until there was nothing left — so why does it feel like you can still see him sometimes? content: touya todoroki x female reader, childhood friends au, reader has a quirk, time skipping, flashbacks, fluff, heavy angst, bullying, eventual smut, eventual meaning next chapter, soft touya, hurt/comfort, tragedy, mdni wc: 4.5k | Chapter 2 | m. list | read on ao3
You meet Touya Todoroki when you are four years old.
He was a redhot firecracker that demanded the attention of you and all those around him. 
Touya Todoroki was also the first in your class to have his quirk maifest. It was the talk for about a week, everyone expecting nothing less from the son of the flame hero, Endeavor, himself. 
You would watch him some days, flaunting his newfound power on the playground in front of others, knowing he would be some great hero one day. Even better than All Might, he would yell to anyone that would listen. It was a decent dream, you believed. Maybe someone could actually be better than All Might. 
It didn’t seem like that would be in the cards for you, as it became more apparent as the days went by that you may not have a quirk. The excitement of watching every other child’s quirk manifest began to fill you with a pit of dread.
Quirkless. 
It’s something you never thought you would have to think about. The realization hadn’t caught up with the rest of your class yet and you could only thank the stars.
But it was only a matter of time before a group of three noticed. 
They cornered you while you tried drawing shapes in the sanded area of the playground. 
“Hey,” one kid dragged, horns proudly peeking out of his head. “What’s goin’ on with you?” 
You spared him a glance before going back to your sand, gliding the stick you found through the yellow grains. “What do you mean?”
One girl behind him pipes up, curly pigtails bouncing with the tilt of her head,  “Where’s your quirk? Aren’t you turning five soon?”
The emphasis on five makes you jolt a little and you try to play it off — offering a little shrug to the trio. “I dunno. Mom says I'm a late bloomer.” you pray they will be satisfied with your answer and leave you alone. 
The third kid finally speaks, sporting a new pair of bat-like wings. “No way, I bet you’re gonna be quirkless!”
The other children erupt in a loud laugh that calls the attention of your other classmates — much to your dismay. 
“That’s so sad for you!” the girl yelled, grin on her face showing not an ounce of pity. 
“Yeah, really!” The first boy laughs, taking a step forward and kicking the sand you were drawing in towards you, effectively ruining your picture and your day. 
You go to stand, brushing the sand off of your dress before the girl rushes forward to push you, sending you down to land flat on your bottom. Your bottom lip wobbled as you tried to hold back the tears and humiliation threatening to spill over and out. 
The bat-winged boy pointed to you, “Look, guys, she’s gonna cry!” Yelling out to anyone who could hear, only causing you to dip your head in shame, now unable to stop the warm tears from trailing down your cheeks. 
And you thought today couldn’t get any worse.
“Hey! Knock it off!” You hear a voice yell, familiar. “Flashfire fist!”
You feel the heat before you see it, hot and swift.
The screams make you look up. Its Touya, red hair and fist aflame, standing in front of you and effectively blocking you from the trio of bullies before. 
“Ouch, Touya! You could have really hurt us!” the girl with pigtails cried, holding her own wrist as tears flowed freely down her cheeks.
The boy who kicked sand at you spoke up next, voice wavering on the verge of tears as well, “Yeah, you jerk!”
Touya shrugged, flames dissipating and points a finger at them, “I don't care. Bullies’ feelings dont matter!” 
You could only stare with wet lashes as the trio ran off — no doubt to tell the teacher. Touya didn’t seem to mind, as a matter of fact he seemed proud as he turned to you and reached out a hand to help you up. He was all smiles and warm eyes, “Are you alright?”
You take his hand, noting how warm it still was from his previous quirk use and nod, “Mhm, thank you.”
“It’s no problem,” he helped you to your feet before continuing, his smile almost blinding, “I’m Touya Todoroki, the next number one hero.” 
You nod and introduce yourself, cheeks warm and smile dancing across your face. His mood is infectious. “Nice to meet you, Touya, next number one hero.” 
Later that day you realize Touya does get in trouble for improper quirk use and can’t help but apologize. 
“It’s fine!” He returns, not bothered in the slightest. “I’d do it again and again, if I had to.”
After the incident Touya insisted on being by your side the rest of the day. During lunch, arts and crafts and even nap time. He would go where you would go and you couldn’t say you minded. Once school had finished for the day and it was time to break apart Touya insisted you both hang out more.
Even going as far as to introduce himself to your parents as they came to pick you up. 
His foot tapped in excitement as he told them about your days and how you should hang out more. 
That’s how you both find yourselves in some forest on the weekend, walking together through the fresh snow, because Touya just had to show you this cool training spot. 
“But, don't you think we’re going too far, Touya?” You ask, nerves trembling as you look around the forest. You wouldn’t know your way back without him and you’ve never been this far out alone. 
“No,” he singsongs, “C’mon– don't be such a baby,” 
You puff your cheeks, running to catch up with him,  “Don’t call me that, but okay!” 
He grabs your hand once you are by his side and it's warm. Touya is always warm. 
“We’re almost there, anyway!” 
This special place looked the same as any other place in these woods, but you wouldn’t let Touya know. He’s so excited to show you what he came to do. 
“My dad and I train here sometimes.” He starts, smiling as he backs away from you to show you a flame in his hand. “He thinks my flames will be hotter than his one day.”
You can’t hide the way your eyes fill with sadness as you look to the ground. 
“I don’t think I’m gonna get a quirk, Touya.” 
The boy’s smile drops instantly, as he rushes over to you, taking your face in his tiny hands. Still so warm, like always. 
“Hey, don’t say that! Maybe you aren't trying the right things.” He dips behind you before you could turn to stop him, “Maybe you can see in the dark!” His hypothesis being tested by covering your eyes. 
You bite back a laugh, “No, Touya, I don't think it works like that.” 
The boy lets you go and runs to a rather large, fallen log – climbing atop it and looking down to you. “Well, maybe you can fly. Have you tried that?” 
You shake your head, unable to hide the worry in your face. Touya was up pretty high. “Hey… you shouldn’t be up that far.” 
“What do you mean? It’s fine!” he reassures, continuing his musing while walking along the fallen log. “Besides, it’s not like I'm clumsy or anything—!” 
The boy’s words were cut short by his shoe stepping down and slipping on the ice below it, sending him crashing down to the patch of snow and debris below. 
In that moment, your hand shoots out before you can think and there’s ringing in your ears. Your eyes squeezed shut as you wait for the impending crash. But it doesn’t come. 
You slowly open your eyes and see… Touya. He’s okay. Better than okay because he’s floating above the snowy patch of grass below, debris and everything brushed away. Your hand is still out as you meet Touya's wide eyes. 
“Whoa!” You finally pull your hand back and watch his feet gently touch the grass below. “Dude, you have mind powers! So cool!” 
You will your breathing to go back to normal as you take in the new information. You do have a quirk. All hope was not lost. 
The feeling of warm liquid creeping down your nostril catches your attention. Bringing a finger to your nose, you pull back and see the crimson drop. Blood. The sound of Touya’s steps through the snow breaks your focus. 
“Hey, what happened? You're bleeding.” He takes your finger in his hand, red brows furrowed and cerulean eyes filled with worry. 
You shrug, taking your hand back and wiping your nose with your sleeve, unaware of the tiny smear of blood you left across your face. “I dunno. I’m not hurt, though.”
At this, Touya smiles, bringing his own hand to your face to wipe the remainder of what you smeared. “You better not be! We’re gonna be heroes together — you and me!”
It’s so infectious, the way he lights up with a smile, you can’t help but return it. “Yeah, we sure will.”
—----------------
The first time you think you see Touya it’s while you are on your way home from the bustling area of downtown. 
The shops are crowded with people trying to get their last minute gifts for the holidays and you promised your parents you would be home hours ago. It’s a flash – so quick you almost miss it. 
Almost. 
Through the crowd there's a glint of white hair and blue eyes. You stop, sending the people behind you nearly barrolling into your backside and profusely apologize, half heartedly hearing their grumbles as you make your way through the flurry of people. 
The snow white hair is a little further ahead, but you can see bits and pieces where the sea of heads will naturally move. 
Was that…
It couldn’t be. Your heart picks up as you nearly chase your way through, mumbling faint excuse me’s and pardon me’s to those around you as you lock onto the moving person. It's becoming harder to keep up and you break out in a light sprint. 
The person takes a sharp left into an alley and you follow behind, only to be met with the emptiness of a damp back alley. 
There was no way it could be him. Your mind was playing tricks on you. 
You shake your head, hoping you could physically shake those thoughts from your brain and turn to head home. It had been a long day.
There is a battle raging in your mind — one that you are not sure is formed from grief or from anxiety. it is an all consuming inferno of blackened dust in your heart and you cannot stop yourself when you bring it up to Fuyumi.
You both have been sitting in silence for a while, wrapping gifts for the upcoming holidays. She has been in her own little world, humming christmas tunes, while you have been in a fit of inner turmoil. 
“Hey, Fuyumi,” you start, instantly catching her attention in the otherwise quiet home. 
“Hm?”
Your nerves are eating your confidence and you start to second guess yourself. Only the warmth in her gray eyes gives you the resolve to continue. “Something weird happened at the market the other day.”
She tilts her head, flowing ponytail following the direction, “What’s that?”
“I was walking and,” you stall — unsure if bringing up your friend's dead brother before the holidays would be a good move. “I swear, I thought I saw Touya. It was a flash, but the guy had his white hair and,” unwanted tears are blurring your vision, “and his eyes were so much like Touya’s i don't—” you're choking up, tears fighting their way through your throat, “I thought i was going crazy.”
Surprisingly, Fuyumi takes it well, reaching a hand out to touch your shoulder, a comforting motion you’ve grown to know over the years. 
“Hey, it’s okay. That could have been anyone, you know?” She smiles, and it’s bittersweet like the flowers at a funeral, “it’s the holiday season so everyone is out right now.”
You nod, reluctant, but logical. “Yeah, yeah you’re right. It was pretty crowded in that area.” the tears would force their way through your resistance whether you fought them or not, so you give up – letting them flow down your cheeks. “I’m sorry for bringing it up, Fuyumi.”
“No, it's okay! Don't worry about it." She looks to the side. “It’s only been three years since it happened, and the anniversary of his death is coming up too. It's harder around this time of year. For all of us.” 
You can only nod as Fuyumi brings you into a tight hug. Your resolve melted away in her arms as you cried, it felt like things would never get easier. 
A life without Touya wasn’t a life you could see yourself living happily in.
You wished and prayed for him everyday — unwilling to believe your best friend was really truly gone. It felt so surreal. Like something that happens in movies and not to you.
Fuyumi said nothing as she held you and rubbed soothing circles on your back. She has been a pillar for you in these times and you couldn’t be more grateful. Only wishing you could show your gratuity in a more effective form than just sobbing into her shoulder. 
There is an anguish in your heart that will not go away. A part of you died when Touya did, there was no denying that. 
Fuyumi pulls away, holding you by the shoulders as her eyes meet yours — she's started crying too and it's enough to make you shake with sobs again. 
“Hey, hey,” Fuyumi starts, her voice unwavering despite the tears. You wish you were strong like her. “We’ll get through this, okay? We just have to be strong.”
You give her a pathetic nod, one more for her sake than yours, and try to sit up straighter. 
You knew that Touya wouldn’t want to see you like this.
—-------------------
When you are five years old, you notice there is a change in Touya.
You gasp when you see him again, “Touya! Your hair!” 
His eyebrows scrunch at your pointing and then widen in realization. “Huh? Oh, don’t worry about that.” Touya huffs, “were you even listening?”
The question startles you and you quickly nod your head, knowing you didn't hear a word he said. “Mhm!”
Touya keeps talking, now bringing a hand to his hair, rubbing a lock between his forefinger and thumb, “Okay, so what’s the deal?” 
You can't stop the confused look in your eye as you watch him, cheeks rosy from the cold. It snowed again yesterday, and Touya never seemed bothered by the cold. You were freezing though. 
Somehow you let him bring you back to this forest — it’s become your go to hangout. A place where the both of you could practice your quirks in peace. 
“Do you like All Might or something?” 
You shrug, indifferent to the well known hero. Your parents weren’t heroes and neither was anyone in your family. He seemed more like a comic book character than an actual person. 
“Well, it doesn't matter. My dad told me I’m gonna be even better than All Might! So he better watch out.”
You smile, seeing his eyes light up, “Oh, yeah? How are you gonna be better than him, Touya?” 
You don’t know why but it makes your heart dance when he gets this way. Stars in his eyes and world in his hand. He’s your hero, you absently wonder if he knows that. 
Touya shrugs, scrunching his nose in thought, “I dunno. I haven’t gotten that far yet.” He snaps his fingers and turns to you, “I know! I’ll look it up. It can’t be too hard, right?”
You laugh now. Of course he doesn’t have a plan.
“Don't you think if it were that easy he wouldn't be the number one right now?” You test, and Touya gives you a look, pout strong on his face.
“Hey, whose side are you on, anyway?”
“Yours! So, I don't want you to waste your time on silly stuff.” You offer, looking at the leaves you're making dance in your hand. 
He groans, the frustration evident in his voice, “Whatever! I’ll figure something else out.”
In that moment, there’s a great gust of wind — whistling and blowing the leaves in your hand away. It’s chill makes you wrap your arms around yourself, shivering. 
“Touya, don’t you get cold?” You ask, arms doing little to warm yourself as you continue to shiver. 
The boy looks at you, brows furrowed and eyes confused. “No, do you?”
“Yes!” You shout, “all the time! It’s so c-cold out here. I don’t know how you do it.” 
He walks over to you, pondering and examining your face. “Yeah, your nose is all red. Rudolf.” 
He takes your face into his hands and closes his eyes, rubbing his nose against yours back and forth. It’s warm and it makes you flush. Your cheeks burn when he pulls away, stunned at the smile on his face and stars in his eyes.
“Better?” He asks, innocent question ringing in your ears and you realize yes, you do feel better, but you also feel warm and fuzzy like there are butterflies dancing around in your belly and you can’t get them out — so, you just nod instead, slow smile creeping on your face and Touya grabs your hand again.
“Good! Now let’s keep going! There’s this cool new move I wanna try.” 
And you follow behind him. He was your best friend after all. You feel as though you would even follow him through the icy storms of Antarctica if you needed to. 
—-------------------
Christmas with the Todoroki’s has always been interesting. For one, half of them were not present during the dinner. Rei being sent to the facility, endeavor choosing to work on his hero duties and little Shouto desperately trying to eat with all of you without Enji coming home to find him out of his room. 
The silence is eerie – other than the sounds of metal clinking against porcelain plates. 
You couldn’t help but break the tense air, words sounding loud in the quiet of the room, “Thank you all for inviting me over. The food is really good, Natsuo.”
At this, Natsuo perks up, a smile so wide on his face it makes his eyes squeeze shut. “We love having you around! You’re like the big sis we never had!”
“Hey!” Fuyumi squawks, ready to scold her little brother, “I’m the one who knows where you sleep Natsu, so watch it!”
You can’t help but laugh at the threat, knowing Natsuo has been a victim to many of Fuyumi’s pranks. Shouto only watches on, eating as much as he could before he would inevitably go back to his side of the home. There wasn’t much expression to his face, but he seemed content to watch his older siblings bicker back and forth. 
Times like these were nice, you decide. It pulls your mind away from the reality and into the more lively parts of growing up.
After the dinner was done, and the gifts were passed out, there was a somber air growing about you all once more. 
Shouto went back to his room and Natsuo found his place in the living room, playing video games and insisting that since he cooked most of the meal, he shouldn’t wash dishes as well. 
Much to Fuyumi’s dismay, you agreed with Natuso, but offered to help her with the dishes. It was something to prolong the inevitable walk home. 
“What did you get for him this year?” Fuyumi asked, passing you another plate to dry.
You glanced at her, noting how she avoided your gaze, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth instead. “It’s something I’ve been working on for a while. A necklace — with charms and things I think he would like.”
She nods, bringing an arm up to wipe her eyes with her wrist, “Yeah, I’m sure he would love that. He always liked your gifts.”
It’s impossible not to find yourself tearing up. 
Once you were done washing dishes with Fuyumi, she went to join Natsuo in the living room, offering unwanted tips on the current game he was playing and receiving groans of irritation in return. 
You take that as your cue to leave and make your way to the place you’ve dreaded all night.
Touya’s shrine.
His memoriam stared back at you as you dropped to your knees, lowering your head in prayer and then placing the small decorated box onto the shelf of his shrine. 
“Oh, Touya… it’s been three years.” You say to his photo hanging above the shrine. It’s his school photo. You were both in the same class, already talking about what high schools you would be choosing in the upcoming years.  
It doesn’t feel like three years. It feels like everyday is the same — you wake up and he’s not there. Like a day you’re doomed to repeat until the reality of it all finally sets in. 
What would he look like now, you wonder. Would he have gotten taller? He had always been smaller than the other kids. Would he still have dreams of being a hero? You didn’t know. You wished you knew. 
Your fists clinch in your lap and the tears flow freely from your eyes. Even with your head bowed you can’t stop seeing his picture etched into your brain. Those blue eyes staring into your eyes. 
A sob escapes your lips and it all comes crashing down after that. 
“God, Touya..!” Your words break down, sending your resolve with it. It feels like your heart has been ripped out of your chest and you’ve been openly bleeding out for three years. 
You are only sixteen years old and expected to spend the rest of your life without the boy who would put the moon in the sky for you. 
Unthinkable.
You’re not sure how much time has passed once you’ve calmed down, but you know it’s late now. 
It was time to head home, and you wished Fuyumi and Natsuo well as you hugged them. They wave you off, faces somber and words tight. If they heard you crying, they didn't mention it and you’re thankful. 
The trek home would not be not a long one, but you couldn’t stop yourself from taking a detour. 
The forest where you and Touya always hung out was nearby and you can't stop your feet when you make a sharp right turn and head that way. 
It was getting dark and snow was beginning to fall, but you felt at home.
There's a river you like to walk along. It's such a small little stream that never seems to freeze over, no matter how cold it is outside. It is where you find yourself trailing beside. The water being the only noise breaking through the quiet of the forest.
It kept you company until you reached the familiar open patch of grass, which was currently covered in snow. 
Some trees were still charred from the incident, but others were still standing proud. It’s strange how that works — some things can remain the same through adversity while others are damaged beyond repair. You wonder if things could ever grow back from such tragedies.
Maybe the growth of something new could come from the ashes of the old. Like a phoenix.
The snapping of a twig snatches you from your thoughts. 
It's a forest, yes, but this area doesn’t have much food for the animals. You stand to your feet, absently wondering when you had taken a seat in the first place, and look around. Maybe it was a trick of the wind, or something falling. 
The snow crunches under your feet as you begin to take your leave — you’ve been out long enough. 
You make your way through the thick of the trees until something brings you to pause. 
Your steps were not the only steps you were hearing. 
“Hello?” You call out into what you hoped had been an empty forest, only to be met with silence. It is not a comforting quiet, it was a quiet that crept underneath your skin and gave you goosebumps. 
It felt like you were being watched. 
“This isn’t funny!” You yell, taking cautious steps backwards, preparing yourself for a sprint in the opposite direction. 
You turn, ready to take off when a glimmer of silver catches your eye, the flicker making you halt your movements.
Your heart hammered against your chest.
There was no way. 
It was so faint, but you knew the necklace you crafted like the back of your hand.
“Hey! Stop fucking around, whoever you are!” You don’t know where this brave face is coming from, but you aren’t backing down. You could fight if need be.
Against your better judgment, you take a few steps forward, and like you thought, whoever was around took those steps with you. Your breath hitches when you see it. 
A flash of white hair. 
You break off into a sprint, and the person is already off, having a headstart and leaving you behind. 
You couldn’t see as well through the snowfall, but you didn’t need to. White hair and the shimmer of a necklace around the person’s neck has you chasing them deeper into the woods. 
“Stop..!” You cry out, reaching a hand forward in an attempt to activate your quirk. 
The force of it causes branches to fall from a tree further ahead of the person and he only changes direction. 
You follow behind, lungs burning as you struggle to keep up. There was another attempt, bringing an already leaning tree down in front of the running man. It still did not work, he simply jumped over it and continued on. 
You were approaching your limit with your quirk and desperate. If you let this slip through your fingers it would drive you mad. 
“Wait!” You try again, reaching both hands forward and focusing all you had on the man before you. It was hard to ignore the blood trickling from both nostrils with your quirk use, but you had to, this was your only chance. “Touya..!”
And in that moment, the man stopped — whether it be from your quirk holding him in place or his own will, you weren't sure. All you knew was that the man stopped, and turned.
Your vision began to blur as your head pounded from the overexertion — your quirk was difficult to use on a living being, but it didn’t matter. You would know those eyes even in your darkest hour.
The cerulean blue was the last thing you saw before your world went dark. 
And in your final moments, only one thought rang in your mind.
Touya is alive.
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