#like who am I to question his methods I’m spreading my cheeks | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

miekasa · 3 years

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six thirty

+ pairing: armin arlert x (fem) reader

+ genres and warnings: college au, enemies to lovers… kinda… in a very nerdy academic rivalry kind of way, me being a comedian you’re welcome, fluff, smut/nsfw content

+ word count: 5.6k… pls say sike

+ notes: shout out to ryn for listening to me during our very many rambling sessions and also for extorting me into posting this. consider it a late birthday present for my favorite menace </2

+ side notes: no i am not a part of armin nation and i never want to be, nor do i wish speak of this again.

Armin Arlert is the perfect student. Prompt and well prepared during lecture; smart and insightful during office hours; the apple of any teacher’s eye. Unfortunately for him, so are you.

If you asked Armin, you were a little too clever for your own good, and liked to make it very well known that you believe you’re the smartest person in any room you walk into. That may be true, but it doesn’t mean that he has to sit there and worship your superiority complex.

If someone asked you, you’d say that Armin was a know it all, and a manipulative little piece of shit. Again, not a completely false statement, but perhaps a slightly biased character analysis.

Neither of you are wrong. It’s why you’re both the bane of each other’s existence.

There’s a noticeable grimace on your face, chin in your palm, elbows resting atop your desk, as you turn your head to where, sure enough, Armin is seated where he always is: first row, right side, directly in front of the podium, like perfect little teacher’s pet he wants to be. He doesn’t have any books to unpack like everybody else because a shiny, blue iPad is propped up on his desk in place of all of that. He’s robably looking through his pre-written list of showboaty questions to ask during lecture. Like he’s a cut above everyone else.

Maybe some of the other morons in this course, but not you, that’s for damn sure. You bet that if you broke his thousand dollar tablet he wouldn’t think he’s such hot shit anymore. Maybe that would knock him down a couple of pegs.

“Look at him sitting there with his stupid blue eyes, and his stupid Bieber haircut, and his stupid, shiny blonde hair, and his stupid fucking glasses. I bet they’re not even real and he just wears them to—”

“Did you just call his hair shiny?”

You snap your head to your left, “What—no, of course not. I said shoddy, he’s probably a bottle blonde. Maybe all the chemicals from the hair dye seeps into his head and warps his sense of reality.”

“I’m pretty sure you said shiny.”

“Shut up, Annie.”

She raises an eyebrow at you, “You got something against blondes? Because your track record would beg to differ.”

“Once. We kissed once, and it was truth or dare, and we were both sloshed.”

“You still chose me,” she reminds you, pulling her notebook out of her backpack.

You huff, ignoring her words and turning your head back to Armin, this time finding him twirling his stupid fucking expensive Apple Pencil between his fingers like it’s nothing. You can feel your eye begin to twitch.

Perhaps he can, too—or maybe he can just feel your eyes boring holes into him—because he turns in your direction and ceases his pen twirling the moment you make eye-contact. More students filter in, walking past your line of vision, but each time they move, you and Armin meet gazes again; neither one of you daring to look away, a palpable tension between you.

His eyes might be icy blue, but you can see the rose pink tint underneath his skin, even from the distance; a familiar blush that spreads across his nose and cheeks. You exhale with a silent laugh, breaking your eye contact before he grows completely red, just in time for Dr. Zöe to start the lecture.

Everybody thinks that Armin’s so brilliant, so smart, so untouchable. You know that his only genius is that he’s fooling everyone into thinking that he’s the kind, humble, little nerd boy who wouldn’t harm a fly, when that’s far from the truth.

Armin is mean. He’s competitive and possessive and snarky and sly. He’s the definition of a wolf in sheep’s clothing, but you’re pretty sure the only person in the world who might believe that is Eren. Though, you’ve heard some of the insults Armin throws Eren’s way, and they’re not exactly soft. Granted, that’s a factor in any friendship, and most of his jabs are coated with a layer of intellect the brunette likely doesn’t understand, but that doesn’t make Armin any less sarcastic. It just means Eren’s too dumb to know what’s going on.

Poor kid. Maybe it’s for the best.

That’s all to say that Armin is nothing but a big talker—not even; a smooth-talker, is more like it. He comes across as perfect, all good and sweet and soft, because that’s what he lets people see. Nobody else looks through to the sharp tongue and ragged edges, because they’re too busy cooing over innocent blue-eyed baby in front of them.

But you know that Armin, the one he doesn’t want other people to see: the one that’s so good, he’s bad; so sweet that he’s sick; so nice that it’s cruel. And you know just how much pressure to apply to make his façade crack.

And you intend on doing so.

“I don’t know which formula to use—hey, are you two eye fucking again? Cut it out, I’m trying not to fail over here,” Eren exclaims, poking Armin’s shoulder with his pen.

The jab averts the blonde’s attention back to his friend, eyes wide as he blinks himself back to reality. He curses under his breath when he feels a familiar warmth creeping across his cheeks. Few things piss Armin off like the way he gets red in the face after thinking about you, or even just looking at you, for too long. Whether it’s red out of pure annoyance, or another feeling he tries to push down, it’s irritating, and above all, embarrassing.

He spares one more glance over his shoulder, to where you and Annie are sat a few tables away in the library. You’ve looked away by now, focusing back on your notes, but Armin swears he can still see that irritating smirk on your face from this angle.

He rolls his tongue along the inside of his cheek. He should be able to keep it together around you by now, but he can’t, and it bothers him. You bother him.

“We weren’t eye fucking,” he refutes, turning his back to you completely, “She’s such a little know it all sometimes, s’annoying.”

Eren raises an eyebrow. He knows that you and Armin don’t get along, but he doesn’t understand why. Armin knows almost all your friends, and you definitely know all of his—Eren would even go as far as to say that you and him are pretty close friends—so it’s not a matter of not spending time together. You’re also the two smartest people Eren knows. In theory you should have more than enough to talk about together, but every time you’re in the same room, you hardly acknowledge each other outside of surface level commentary, or glances that border on staring.

Thankfully, the bickering remains in the classroom for the most part. Eren’s seen you and Armin go at, and he’ll be the first to admit that it’s beyond intimidating. Though, a little part of him finds it oddly entertaining, and he can’t help but to be impressed. All the more reason for you two to start playing on the same team.

Eren thinks the two of you should get to the root of the issue already. Which, if you asked him, has very little to do with your rivaled academic genius, and a lot to do with your lack of it concerning your feelings for each other.

“She’s not that bad,” Eren vouches for you, “I think you two might get along if you ever spoke outside of trying to one-up each other in class.”

“I’m not trying to one-up anybody,” Armin rolls his eyes, a nasty habit he’s picked up as of late, “And if you stopped and used your brain for a moment, then maybe you could solve the problem.”

“I did use my brain!” Eren’s lips fall into an offended pout, “But none of this makes any sense to me! I fucking hate math, you know that.”

Armin sighs, feeling sympathetic for Eren as he slumps into himself defeatedly. He knows that Eren isn’t dumb, but math in any capacity is certainly not his strong suit. He also knows that he shouldn’t give Eren all the answers, but sometimes he needs a little push to get him there. A little bit of added guidance and motivation to keep him going. It’s either that, or he has to trick Eren into doing the work himself, but clearly that method wasn’t working out today.

“You already solved for the activation energy, now you’re supposed to use the Arrhenius equation in the expanded form.”

Eren’s lips fall into a small o-shape, as his eyes scramble across his paper again. “But—how do you—”

“There’s two measurements given for temperature.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah! Okay, right, but then—”

“You have to convert it to Kelvin first or it won’t work. It’s given to you in Celsius.”

Eren furrows his eyebrows together, and then it finally clicks for him. He mutters to himself as he puts his pencil to paper to begin to work through the problem, “How do I convert—”

“Add 273.15 to it. Make sure you put the bigger one first in the equation, or else you’ll get a negative error.”

“You didn’t even do it,” Eren huffs, angrily punching numbers into his calculator, “How do you know it’s right?”

“Because I took this class already,” Armin reminds him, sparing a brief glance over his shoulder, “Isn’t that why I’m tutoring you?”

Eren coughs over his embarrassed blush, “Oh, yeah, right.”

It’s quiet between them as Eren makes a final attempt at solving the equation, carefully and proudly circling his answer when he’s finished. He looks to Armin with bright eyes, and is content when the blonde gives him a reassuring nod, confirming that his answer is correct.

“Well that was a bitch to work through,” Eren sighs, stretching his arms behind his head with a slight yawn, “Chemistry is nothing but glorified math. It’s barely a science.”

Armin shrugs, but he doesn’t disagree. He isn’t the biggest fan of chemistry, unlike somebody else he knows. “Why’d you take chem if you knew it would have so much math?”

It’s Eren’s turn to shrug, slumping back in his chair and running a hand through his hair, “I gotta take all the pre-med requirements… just in case.”

“You wanna go to med school? Since when?”

Eren averts his eyes from his friend, a telltale sign of his bashfulness coming over him. It doesn’t happen often, but Armin knows it’s sincere when it does.

“Dunno. I’m not sure of it, just wanna keep my options open, you know?” Eren replies casually, “Doctors help make a difference and all that, and surgery looks kind of cool. Besides, if my bastard father could do it, how hard could it really be?”

A gentle smile grows on Armin’s lips, “You can do it. If you really want to, I know you can.”

Eren’s head snaps up, eyes wide and filled with affirmation and adoration. He relaxes his expression quickly after, but the pink hues are still present, “Thanks, Min.”

From his position he catches eye of another head of familiar blonde hair over Armin’s shoulder, and beside it, your own hair. There’s a flash of a moment when your eyes meet Eren’s, and you offer him a small wave before turning back to Annie to resume doing your homework. Eren barely gets the chance to wave back, but a dopey smile sits on his features at your kind gesture. It fades when he looks back to Armin, once again pondering the animosity between you two.

You and Armin aren’t all that different, you just need to get to know each other better. Actually, Eren thinks that you might make a good couple if you both stopped overthinking it.

“So, what’s the deal with you and (_____)?” Eren asks, bending his right knee to wrap his arm around his leg and rest his chin on top of it, “You act like she kicked your cat.”

“What?” Armin questions, flustered, “What—no, she wouldn’t touch Soup.”

Eren quirks an eyebrow at that. “I still can’t believe you named your cat Soup.”

“It’s technically a nickname.”

“A nickname for what?”

“…For Miso Soup.”

Eren blinks. “Okay, if she didn’t mess with Soup, then what’s the issue? You scared of her or something?”

“Why would I be scared of her?” Armin asks, tone incredulous; then softer, more subdued, like a kid who doesn’t want to admit they’re wrong, “’M not scared of her.”

“You stare at her like you are—well, you look kind of angry, but also scared. Like, when you see those balloon things outside of car washes. You hate them, but you can’t look away from them—”

“I am not scared of those!”

“You are, and it’s okay,” Eren waves away his friend’s denial, “Oh, I get it—is this one of those things where she makes you nervous, so you respond with anger and sarcasm instead of thinking through your feelings?”

“You’ve been going to therapy for one month, relax.”

“Maybe you two should go to friend therapy and work this out,” Eren bites back, “It probably doesn’t help that she’s always with Annie. They both look like they would murder someone with no remorse. I admit, it is kind of scary… but it’s kind of hot, too.”

Armin spares him an unamused glare. Eren crosses his arms in defense, “What? I’m not wrong. It’s sexy in a scary kind of way, maybe that’s why you’re always eye fucking. I don’t blame you, she’s hot. I would let her and Annie axe-murder me without regret.”

“Eren?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and do problem six, I don’t have all day.”

Eren huffs, but flips the page to the next problem, grumbling under his breath as he attempts the, “It’s not as sexy when you’re mean, you know.”

Armin hits him silent.

Tuesdays are Armin’s favorite days because he only has one class. Sure, it’s three hours long, but it’s much more bearable than his usual eight-hour day.

It’s also the one class he shares with you. Which is why he’s always mentally exhausted by the end of it, but physically, he feels like he could punch a wall; all his pent up anger and frustration is channeled into his body and he’s desperate for an outlet for it. It’s a feeling he hates to love.

Annie seems to have cut class today seeing as she’s not next to you; and it’s almost as if it’s emboldened you to mess with him even more than usual.

He bites his tongue as Dr. Zöe enthusiastically uses your latest point as a segue into the final topic of the evening. He made that same point ten minutes ago. You just worded it differently—admittedly, more concisely, but somehow with a little more nuance, than when he had hesitantly proposed it—and, yeah, maybe you made it sound more convincing, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t come up with it first. If his stupid, fancy stylus didn’t cost upwards of $200 he might have snapped it in half.

You’re definitely the better conversationalist, that much he can admit. Words have never been his forte and he hates the way you can talk circles around him, and that there’s so little he can say to make you stop.

He wishes you would just shut up. In fact, he’d like to shut you up himself.

Thankfully, class ends sooner rather than later. Armin finds himself briefly talking with Dr. Zöe afterwards, most other students having taken the opportunity to leave early for the night. To nobody’s surprise, you’re not one of them, having stuck around to talk to the professor, too.

“The two of you should consider lab research this summer,” Dr. Zöe suggests ardently, walking between the two of you as you exit the lecture hall, “I could really use two students like you!”

Armin chuckles at his boisterous professor. He’s known about the research opportunities at their lab for quite some time now, and he knows that you have, too. “I don’t know that lab work is really my strong suit.”

The three of you come to stop at the hallway intersection, the professor now standing across from you and him. You give them a polite smile, “And I’m not sure that collaboration is mine.”

Armin spares a glance just in time to see you flash one of your own in his direction. Dr. Zöe’s eyes flicker between the two students rapidly, a slight squint to their eyelids.

They aren’t quite sure why their two brightest students seem to despise each other. They wish you two would just get along already, so that they don’t have to spend the summer training half-witted chemical engineering majors how to use basic lab equipment; and instead, conduct some actual research.

“Well, I hope the both of you reconsider,” they smile, “I’ll see you during office hours, I presume?”

You two nod in sync, sending the doctor off with happy smile, just long enough until you see that they’ve turned the corner further down the hall

“Had fun stealing my point earlier?” Armin questions, looking your way as you still wave mindlessly, eye-twitching at your polite façade.

“I would call it improvement,” you tell him, not bothering to turn in his direction; still and smiling waving like the professor can see or hear you, “You should stick to showing, rather than saying. You never were good with your words.”

Armin kisses his teeth together. He’ll give you what you want, if that’s how you want it.

In a fit of irritation, he grabs your moving hand by the wrist, and pulls you down the opposite hallway, not caring for your dramatic wailing behind him.

“Hey, Einstein, the exit is the other way, do you have any idea where we’re going?”

“Ever heard of observational learning? Maybe if you shut up for a second, you would figure it out,” he snaps, pulling you further.

There’s a door on the left that Armin knows is unlocked, and he’s quick to open it and pull you inside. Before you have the chance to glance around, he has you pushed up against the wall, jaw forced up and forward.

He could scoff at the small hitch in your breath at his actions, clearly a little too satisfied with being manhandled; but instead, he takes the opportunity to press your lips together. Armin quite likes the feeling of your lips on his; warm and soft and far too welcoming; a rare moment of silence.

“Someone could hear us.”

Or not so silent.

“Then be quiet,” he snarls.

Armin feels your fingers weave themselves into his hair, scraping along his undercut in sync with his lips trailing down your jaw. A groan falls from his when he feels you tug at the ends of the strands, just hard enough to force his face back to eye level with yours.

“You’re the one with the big mouth.”

“You’re so smart, huh. Always got something to say,” Armin lets out a low chuckle, deft fingers running down your sides to squeeze at your waist, “You can be really fuckin’ annoying, you know that.”

You mirror half of his ministrations, letting your right hand trail down his chest barely brushing over the very visible bulge in his jeans, before hooking your index finger under the belt loop, effectively pulling him closer to you.

The smile on your face is dirty, but you’re not laughing like he was, “Do something about it then.”

His blue eyes grow cloudy as he takes a good look at you; slowly rakes over your features, from that stupid, snarky look in your eyes, to your kiss-bruised lips, down to your chest, and back up again. Armin finds himself copying your smirk for all the wrong reasons. But it’s your own fault; you always did like to push him one step over the edge.

“Fine.”

Despite your twisted grin there’s a look in your eyes that’s eager; willing; ready for the taking. That same look you have when you talk over him in class; when you pretend to ignore him around your mutual friends; when you want him to fuck you stupid.

Armin uses his right hand to cup your jaw again, closing the distance between your mouths with a less than gentle kiss. He feels your groans reverberating through his body, waves of heat accompanying them and going straight to his erection. Your arch your back into the kiss, but he forces you backwards, left hand flat against your tummy.

Following suit, he pushes himself against your body, pressing his knee between your legs; the thin fabric of your stockings doing little to prevent your thighs from rubbing against him.

He swipes his tongue over the seam of your lips, earning a frenzied whine when glides his tongue across yours, and teasingly licks at the roof of your mouth. Your tongue is lithe against his, but somehow just as deceptive and sly as always, and Armin would be a fool to deny that he loved it.

There’s a spark flickering in his stomach when you push your center harshly against his; and it’s only ignited further when he feels you bite his bottom lip. A guttural growl escapes him, his right hand moving to your throat with practiced ease, pushing the back of your head into the wall.

He pauses for a moment, drinks in your wide eyes and desperate visage, “You are the single most frustrating person I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

And he couldn’t get enough of it if he tried. He couldn’t get enough of you.

You must see through his words, into the grainy expression of adoration in his eyes, because he can see it filtering into yours, pupils dilating with both want and care.

“Aw, baby, I love you, too,” you pout, leaning forward as best to can to peck him on the lips, “Now, shut me up and fuck me. It’s exhausting being this pretty and smart-mouthed, you know.”

Armin dips his head into your neck, squeezes against the column of your throat with warning until he hears a gasp escape from your lips. He presses gentle kisses into your skin, in stark contrast to the increasing pressure from his fingers, waiting for one last request, and then, finally—“Please.”

He smiles, loosens his grip for a moment, just long enough to hear your pretty panting, before slotting his lips against yours again. Your moans are lewd and sloppy and breathless between kisses, and it makes his dick twitch in his pants. You really are so fucking loud. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He uses his free hand to push your skirt up, and subsequently dip past the weak barrier of your tights and underwear. The slightest flicker of his fingers against your center has you choking out a moan, and Armin is forced to press his right thumb harder against your neck.

“Quiet,” he reminds you, “You asked nicely, so I’ll give you what you want. No need to be loud about it.”

He watches you nod with short and restricted movements, a sadistic kind of power washing over him at your eager compliance. He uses his middle finger to rub slow, careful circles around your clit; the feeling of your wet cunt against his fingers, coupled with your wanton moaning only spurs on the throbbing in his pants.

“Armin,” you whine, impatiently; but he expected that of you, “Don’t tease.”

His eyes flash to yours briefly, pressing his lips to yours again to swallow your shuddered moans. He dips his tongue into your mouth at the same time he does his middle finger into your cunt. An obscene moan echoing through the classroom, as Armin feels your body arching into his again; feels your fingers frantically flying to his hair, searching for purchase to anchor yourself on.

He pulls away in time to add another digit and watch you groan underneath him. He pushes both his fingers in to the knuckle, carefully curling them upwards to elicit the prettiest sound out of you. He has to admit, it’s probably his favorite thing to hear come out of your mouth.

He keeps a steady pace, pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy with perfect friction, teetering between letting you moan his name and choking you silent. Your hands are frantic in his hair, grasping and pulling and so, so, desperate, Armin can’t help but to finger fuck you harder.

“You want one more?” he questions, but his voice is taunting, words ghosted over your lips just out of reach for you to kiss.

He can feel your leg trembling against his, see you pupils shaking along with your shaking head. Armin stops to smile; he thought you might do that. He could probably make you cry right now if he wanted to. Maybe later.

“Want you to fuck me,” your words short and ragged, eyebrows raised when he uses his thumb to press lightly against your clit, “Armin, please.”

The blonde shakes his head, “You’re dumber than you look if you think I’m gonna fuck you in a classroom, baby, so if you want to cum now, you better tell me.”

You have the audacity to pout of all things, “You’re mean.”

Armin lets out a breathless laugh. “You like it,” he leans forward to peck you sweetly, “So, what’ll it be?”

“Fine, but I want head later, too,” you tell him, words becoming less firm when Armin teases his ring finger against your slit, “Please.”

Armin hums in compliance, leaning forward to kiss you again, this time with more tact, and he chases your whines when he finally pushes a third finger inside of you.

“Look at you,” he croons breaking your kiss and forcing your head back again, “You take it so well.”

“Ah—fuck, there, Armin—there,” you cry, wet heat squeezing around his fingers in intermittent spasms.

Armin watches your chest heave with desperate breaths, air stuttering to pass from your lips to your lungs with his hand around your neck. He can feel your walls constricting around his fingers, feel your body shaking underneath him when he increases his pace. He curls his fingers again, just right, just until he hears you sing a strained call of his name. And when he feels your nails scraping down the nape of his neck, and the slight weight of your body convulsing, Armin knows you’re done for.

He’s nice enough to fuck you through your orgasm, shallow thrusts of his fingers bringing you to and down from your high as he watches you pant for him. He presses small kisses against your throat, up, up, up, until he’s kissing you, and carefully pulling his fingers out.

He removes his hand from your neck, and slides it down your waist to offer you support. He’s not prepared for your sudden pull on his neck, forcing him into a kiss that conveys your content; he’s quick to raise his left hand, palm meeting the wall to hold himself up against your sporadic actions, chuckling lightly into your kiss. You were always so reckless and happy after an orgasm.

You kiss him like you have him wrapped your finger despite being the one pleading moments ago. You do, so he supposes it’s not unwarranted; and he welcomes your flirtatious kisses despite the annoying blush they always bring forth.

And sure enough, he can feel his face on fire when you pull away. Armin scoffs internally at himself; he really should be able to keep it together around you by now. But when you kiss him like that, you kind of make it hard to think straight.

“You’re so good when you’re not… pretending to be good,” you hum, a blissful, hazy look on your features as you wrap your arms around his neck.

Armin shakes his head with a chortle of disbelief; leans forward to kiss you again, “’M not pretending. I am good.”

“Yeah, you’re such a good little saint that arguing with your girlfriend turns you on,” you taunt him, “It’s okay, Armin, you can admit it.”

He groans, out of shallow annoyance this time, and it makes you giggle. “Why are you acting like you’re not complicit in this?”

“Oh, no, no, no,” you refute with an exaggerated roll of your eyes, “You get turned on by hearing me talk about biochemistry. I like it when you tell me to shut up about it. We are not the same.”

“Yeah, because you look hot doing it,” he tells you, “Speaking of which, Eren called you hot today, so I kind of need you to slip a neurotoxin in his Gatorade.”

“Aw, Eren thinks I’m hot? Tell him I think he’s hot, too,” you bat your eyelashes at him, but Armin only offers you an unimpressed glare in return.

“I think he might be onto us, actually,” Armin notes, affectionately bumping his nose against yours.

“If he’s onto us, then it’s because you’re the one giving it away, not me.”

“Oh, because you could never do anything wrong, right?”

“Right,” you flash him an overconfident smile before reaching up to kiss to the tip of his nose, “See you’re so smart, baby.”

Armin shakes his head again in disbelief. You’re a handful, he can see that much.

“Come on,” he prompts, “We should go, I still have to finish my lab write up, and I know you haven’t started your paper.”

Armin tries to motion you forward, but is stopped when he feels your hand combing through his hair, and sees the genuine spark of concern in your eyes. “The one for your elective? I thought you said you were going to finish it on Monday.”

“I was,” Armin admits, “But then I didn’t.”

“You want me to help you with it?” you offer kindly, pushing his bangs back and letting your hands fall down the sides of his face, palms resting against his ears.

He nods gently, turning his head to press a kiss into your left palm, before wrapping his hand around your wrist, “I can help you outline your paper.”

You nod in return, and Armin spares one more kiss, before pulling your hand away to lace your fingers together.

Thankfully, nobody’s around to catch you exiting the classroom, or see you holding hands as you make your way out of the building and towards the bus stop. This was Armin’s favorite part of any Tuesday; the one time he could hold your hand on campus without the fear of getting caught by your friends.

He reasons that you guys should probably tell them soon, though, especially if Eren might have an idea of what’s going on. You were bound to get caught sooner rather than later. That, or Eren and Sasha would start meddling.

“If you think Eren knows, then Mikasa definitely knows,” you note, swinging your intertwined hands as you walk through the parking lot as a shortcut.

“Maybe if you actually remembered to hide Soup’s toys, there would be less evidence for her to piece together.”

“Yeah, well, maybe if you didn’t forget when your midterms are, I wouldn’t have to emergency cat sit the hour before Mikasa comes around, and there wouldn’t be any toys to hide in the first place.”

“I’m bad with dates, you know that!” Armin pouts, “I don’t say anything when you forget about ten page papers until four hours before they’re due.”

“You’re saying something right now, actually.”

“That’s not what I—you know, you’re so—”

Armin’s quiet when he feels your lips pressed against his cheekily, “Annoying. I know. You like it. You’re not very good at staying mad for very long.”

Armin’s tempted to roll his eyes yet again—he really needs to quit it, or at the very least, get your own temper under control before it’s irreversible and completely rubbed off on him—but takes the opportunity to kiss your forehead, instead.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Your eyes twinkle under his affections. “And that you love me?”

He nods, “And that I love you.”

“And that you’re gonna fuck me before you make me write my paper when we get home, right?”

Armin chuckles and presses another kiss to your forehead, “We’ll see about that one.”

Hange huffs as they make their way through the parking. They always forget their keys in their office, and always, inconveniently park half-way across the campus. In their defense, this parking lot is free, and the one closest to the Medical Sciences building is not. So, really, capitalism is the one to blame for their frequent late night car lot strolls.

They hear two familiar voices bickering just as they’re about to step into their car, and are more than surprised to see their two favorite students walking together. Walking together and holding hands. Wait—you and Armin are walking together and holding hands?

Hange blinks for a moment, drowning out the sounds of the conversation after they see you two kiss. Their jaw practically falls to the asphalt and they might not blink for a full two minutes as they process what they just saw.

Their trance is broken when it finally, finally clicks together, and Hange has to try their hardest to contain their squeals before sitting in the driver’s seat, an overly forceful slam to the car door following. They waste no time fumbling with the pockets of their lab coat to fish out their phone, and make a call to their favorite math professor.

“Levi, I told you Arlert and (_____) had to know each other outside of class! I think they might be dating! You know what this means, right? I can have them both in the same lab without worrying they might start a chemical fire, and I won’t have to hire two brick heads this summer!”

Levi has never hung up a call more quickly in his life.

#aot x reader #snk x reader #armin x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #armin smut #armin fluff #eren x reader

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seriouslysnape · 3 years

Text

Roughed Up

Harry Potter x Fem! Reader

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1,524

“I don’t mind a night to ourselves,”

A disgruntled, painful groan escaped the Gryffindor boy underneath you as your hands applied pressure to a rather tense area on his back. He took a sharp inhale at the feeling of your wondrous hands rubbing his sore, battered muscles, only to let that same breath out once your hands moved on to the lesser problem areas.

“I’m sorry, Harry.” You apologized for causing him discomfort.

“Not your fault. It feels good and bad at the same time.” He replied, his voice strained and slightly muffled in the pillow below his head.

If someone had told you that you’d be spending your Friday night massaging achy knots out of your boyfriend’s back, you probably would have laughed in their face. It was rare for both you and Harry to spend your pre-weekend evening in your dorm. You almost always found something to occupy your time on a more productive day. However, tonight would have to be an exception.

Harry had taken a nasty fall off of his broom earlier in the day during Quidditch, and while you hadn’t been around to see it, you had been told it wasn’t a pretty landing when he hit the ground. Thankfully, his injuries didn’t extend much past a few scrapes and bruises, but he had landed flat on his back, which seemed to take most of the impact. Madam Pomfrey had looked him twice over to make sure he wasn’t seriously hurt, checking for anything from broken bones to internal bleeding. Pomfrey had tried to heal him up with magic, but Harry had denied it since Pomfrey’s healing methods sometimes hurt worse than the actual injury. When she gave him the clear to leave, he came straight to you. He knew it had to have been a pathetic sight the way he hobbled to your dorm, barely able to hold himself upright from all the lingering pain in his core radiating to his back.

Based on the way he had greeted you though, you wouldn’t have even guessed that he was uncomfortable. His grin was blinding as he entered, mainly because he knew he was going to milk this as much as he could to get a little extra tender, loving care from his favorite girl. You had helped him out of his robes, wincing when you saw the multiple large bruises scattered across his body that had already begun to purple. Even his legs had taken some damage when you had helped him shimmy out of his pants. You left him in just his boxers, helping him into your bed and ordering him to lay on his stomach to avoid aggravating his back further.

You had hoped that maybe he’d begin to feel better after lying down for a bit, but after an hour he was still struggling to get comfortable. You took it upon yourself to straddle his back, lathering your favorite lotion onto your hands to provide him some relief. Your hands trailed, kneaded, and rubbed in all the places that hurt him the most. His noises were comical, sometimes coming out as a pitchy whine and others as a low rumble. He was beat, literally and metaphorically.

“And just how did you fall off again?” You asked for clarification.

Harry was very skilled on a broom, and it wasn’t everyday that he fell off.

“One of the bludgers blindsided me. I never saw it coming,” He explained, “Well, I did when it hit me.”

You chuckled at his joke, letting your thumbs work at the muscles in his shoulders. The room smelled of Eucalyptus and lavender from your lotion that you had rubbed into his skin, two smells that Harry loved endlessly. You didn’t know this, but sometimes Harry would put a bit of your lotion onto his wrist so he could smell like you. It reminded him of you when you weren’t around. The feeling of your hands attempting to rid him of his irritation was heavenly. Despite his pain, he was happy as could be.

“Pomfrey didn’t find anything wrong?” You questioned.

Harry shook his head.

“Nope. She just said I’d be sore tomorrow, more than I am now.” He replied, already dreading how he’d feel in the morning.

Your hand movements slowed to more of a caress, your fingers and palms beginning to cramp from all the rubbing.

“I’m sorry, my love. I’m glad you’re okay.” You spoke gently.

Harry went to turn, prompting you to raise your hips to allow him to flip over completely. He carefully sank onto his back, sighing at the new support that your mattress was giving him. He put his rounded glasses back on, smirking at being able to see you much clearer now.

“I’m the one who should be sorry. I bet you didn’t count on your Friday night being spent like this.” He remarked.

You shrugged, leaning down to leave a sweet peck on his lips.

“I don’t mind a night to ourselves,” You hushed out, your lips just brushing over his; “Just you and me with nothing to do sounds awfully enticing.”

Harry hummed in content and agreement. Harry was obviously extremely popular at Hogwarts, and sometimes it was hard for him to find time to be alone with you. He was always being needed for something, and sometimes he wished he could just have peace and quiet for a while. It seemed now that his wish might be coming true.

“Oh, darling, there’s nothing in the world I’d rather be doing than being here with you,” Harry mewled, “My pretty girl…”

His hands trailed away from the tops of your thighs, snaking underneath your skirt and resting on your hips. His fingertips wrapped around the sides of your knickers, his grin spreading wider when he felt the lacy material. He looked up at you expectantly as he tugged at the sides of your panties.

“No, Harry. You’re hurt, baby.” You reminded him, refusing his advances.

His eyes widened and he gave a sympathetic pout, jutting his lower lip out in protest.

“I’m not hurt! I’m just sore!” He argued.

“Harry, you fell OFF of your broom. Look how roughed up you are.” You said, pointing to one particularly nasty looking bruise just below his ribs.

“I’m feeling better...honestly.” He claimed, but avoided eye contact with you.

You knew he was lying, a devious sneer appearing on your face as you rolled your hips forward, jostling his body in a way that sent a wave of sharp pain through him. He yelped at the less than pleasant sensation, not even trying to play it off.

“That’s what I thought.” You answered, carefully moving off of him and the bed.

Harry scrambled up when he realized you were getting up, his arm wrapping around his core instinctively when he agitated it from moving so quickly.

“Where are you going? Please, don’t leave.” He blubbered, struggling to stay up on his knees that were sunken into the mattress.

You laughed lightly, looking at him with a warm smile on your features.

“I’m just going to my desk. You need to rest.” You told him, motioning towards your workspace on the other side of the room.

“But baby,” He whimpered, “I’m hurt. Come lay with me. Please?” He requested, holding his arms out to you.

“I thought you were ‘feeling better’?” You chided, putting your hands on your hips.

He groaned, throwing his head back in distaste.

“[Y/N], please come here,” He asked again, “Pretty please?”

You laughed again at the sight of him so needy for just even an ounce of attention. He was always so clingy behind closed doors, one of the many things that you liked about him that you kept private. His flushed cheeks and ruffled hair was honestly an adorable sight. You couldn’t help but give in.

“Okay, I’m coming.” You alerted him.

Harry’s eyes brightened in victory, yanking back the covers and making room for you to snuggle in bed with him. You were careful not to press yourself against him too hard, but he didn’t seem too concerned. He peppered you with kisses, all over your face and neck. He was so excited to just be with you that he could hardly contain himself. You giggled under his touch, squirming when he kissed and sucked on areas that were your sweet spots. He thrived off of your joyful noises and being in your presence. It always made him so happy when you were happy. His attack of affection paused when he pulled away to look at you, your smile fading into a worried frown when you thought he might’ve hurt himself more.

“Are you okay?” You asked.

In reality, he just wanted to look at you. He wanted to study your eyes and hair and all the things that he loved so dearly. He saw his future every time he looked at you. He saw his purpose for living when he looked into your eyes. He saw his life with you. He wanted to spend every moment of every day with you and no one else.

Because you were his forever.

“Yeah. I’m absolutely perfect.”

#Harry Potter #harry potter x fem!reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter oneshot #harry potter fluff #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter reader insert #seriouslysnape

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lavandermin · 3 years

Text

from sea of flowers, garden of eternity | xiao

pairing | xiao/reader

word count | 2k

genre | pwp, fluff, light angst, brief smut

note | glaze lily spirit reader, you are also in perpetual pain I’m sorry

“Xiao…” he hears your voice meekly call.

The adeptus is already on his feet before you can fully enter the room, his eyes quickly focused on you. He scans your body language diligently, looking for signs of pain or discomfort. It’s become a routine by now.

“Are you…?” His voice trails off when you shake your head apologetically. The slight strain in your smile doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

“I’m alright for now. The pains haven’t started yet. I think I’m set for another few hours, a day if I’m lucky,” you reassure him. “I just— wanted to check on you.”

Xiao gives you a blank look, one you recognize as confusion. “Check… on me…?”

“Just to see how you’re doing,” you clarify with a shy smile. As you make your way to sit on the bed, you gently pat the space next to you.

There’s a slight red upon his cheeks as he chooses to take up your invitation. The bed dips under his weight, and words do not need to be spoken to know both your minds drift briefly to past trysts that took place where you sit.

“I’m heading out to patrol the area in an hour. If you need anything at all, speak my name,” Xiao announces quietly. It’s a brief awkward silence as he rigidly sits next to you—tense almost. You answer him with a simple nod, hands absentmindedly rubbing little circles on your legs to ease the tingles of pain that slowly resurfaced.

Conversation was scarce the past few months you were placed into his watchful guard. The relationship you both harbored was a blurred line you tried not to think about too much for fear of over-complicating it.

And with your entire being, you could say you came to the unfortunate doom of falling in love with him. The emotional distance he kept oftentimes only confused you as much as your own emotions left him puzzled and a little flustered.

He kept you alive. That was the simplicity of the details Xiao was given. Perhaps it was a favor he was doing you, but he diligently carried it out with all the steadfastness of a contract bestowed onto him by the former Lord of Geo.

—

“I’m sure you are aware of the situation near Qingce Village,” Zhongli had brought up upon summoning Xiao several moons after the stirrings of a slumbering god.

Though the situation was previously dire, all was settled—Xiao knew this as a fact, for he was the one that swiftly took care of the aftermath of a dormant god’s power seeping through the earth. So, the battle hadn’t ended then…

“I was careless—“

Zhongli cut him off, carefully setting down his cup in its saucer. “On the contrary, this was in no way able to be foreseen by you. The world has a way of ending and raising new questions, just as easily as it provides answers to those who seek them.”

On the small garden table, Zhongli’s eyes trail to the glaze lily that sits in a small decorative vase. Unlike most, this lone flower is fully bloomed despite the time of day. It glows ever so slightly—weakly almost.

“You are aware that glaze lilies grow in the Qingce area, and there are a few wild outcroppings that shy away from prying eyes,” Zhongli starts.

His gloved finger reaches out to tenderly graze the petals, and at once the flower closes up. The petals take on a dullness, and visibly they start to wilt in small patches.

“The reasons are uncertain, but rumor spread around the village of a wandering ghost that followed the moon aimlessly. A spirit born of glaze lilies appeared after the battle that took place near there. It seems the power seeped deep into cracked earth among the flowerbeds.”

The young adeptus remained quiet, taking in the information. What exactly did this have to do with him, he wondered?

With a hint of apprehension, Xiao asks, “This spirit—has it taken on a malevolent nature?”

Instead of answering straight away, Zhongli wordlessly stands and makes his way back indoors. Xiao obediently follows, curious of the nature of this spirit.

“Nothing of the sort. However, these glaze lilies fell victim to the corruption of your karmic debt and at the same time were nurtured by immense adeptal power. There is a wavering balance that must be kept, for her body is as fragile as a flower’s and cannot withstand the depletion and shifts of adeptal energy.” With graceful steps, Zhongli stops before a door. “No other adeptus has successfully remained compatible with the energy she needs. So far it has only brought excruciating pain for her, and I fear she may die at this rate.”

With a silent nod, Xiao processes this information. His gloved hand is unmoving on the door handle.

“What are the terms of this contract,” Xiao silently asks, amber eyes trained on the door in front of him.

“My time has long passed to give you a new contract, Adeptus Xiao.” Zhongli chuckles fondly at the serious habits of the adeptus before him. “This is a choice I am giving you. It may take centuries for her body to adjust to the adeptal power she now harbors. If she is compatible with you, it is up to you to decide whether you supply her with your adeptal energy, otherwise she may not make it past next week.”

Xiao remains quiet for a brief moment before speaking softly, “Her body is tearing itself apart…”

“Correct.”

There’s something in that fact that stirs feelings Xiao isn’t used to in his chest. He accepts, and the first memory of you that adorns his mind is one that clenches his heart in a way he rarely experiences. The pain that twists and contorts your face as you desperately heave, body seemingly tearing itself apart in a way the naked eye cannot see.

You’re a beautiful tragedy born of moonlight and sweet soil. And in that moment when your eyes meet his, a single tear rolls down your cheek. He cannot fathom the thought of letting your life end as quickly as it began.

The door behind him clicks shut, and he takes your fragile life into his hands.

—

The lights of the house are dim—a subtle golden glow against a comforting darkness in the blanket of night. A meadow of glaze lilies surrounds the little cottage in a sea of fragrance. A prominent mark of your abode.

The little house defended by mountains is secluded, one which Zhongli sent to be made for you while your body stabilizes.

And though the exterior is tranquil, within its walls come soft pants and gasps. Xiao’s brows are knit together in concentration as he ruts against you.

“Please—Ah…nnh a–again,” you beg against your trembling body’s protests.

And he wordlessly complies, folding your legs until your knees are practically at the sides of your head. His hips pick up the pace and his thrusts become desperate, bodies covered in a sheen of sweat. The moans you let out are loud—obscene as he fills you up until you’re overflowing. The pains have long subsided, and you choose to let him overcompensate in giving you the energy that will get you by another few days.

In the serene calm of night, the tranquility is drowned out by the squelching sounds of your bodies meeting each other through desperate thrusts as both of you are sent over the edge. His name falls from your lips in a melody Xiao has grown addicted to. For the nth time that night you come undone beneath him, your essence stabilized.

There’s a swelling warmth in your chest that blooms like spring meadows as Xiao buries his face in the crook of your neck. The tips of his ears are a bright scarlet and though he tries to control it, he is still left a breathless mess as he rides out his orgasm.

“Is it…enough?” Xiao asks between pants, his cock still buried deep within you.

He’s still twitching within you and your entire body shudders with delight at the feeling.

“You… haah—can keep… going if you want,” you offer weakly. There’s a dazed look in your half-lidded eyes that makes Xiao’s chest squeeze. “‘M full but you’re still…”

Hard.

You glance down to where you two are still joined together, the view of his come leaking out of you shamelessly sending heat between your legs again. The tips of Xiao’s ears turn bright red though he tries to remain composed.

“I’ll be fine. You should get some rest to preserve the energy longer.”

He pulls out and ignores the way your eyes look away dejectedly. Before he can stand to go, your hand gently tugs him back down. Xiao allows himself to be pulled against you, his head resting in the valley of your naked chest.

“Stay with me for a bit?”

Xiao doesn’t answer right away, and your heart leaps when he lets out a little sigh and agrees.

“Alright.”

The minutes tick by in tranquil silence. Both tired bodies ignore the sticky feeling of sweat and sex. It’s a feeling you’re both quite used to by now.

“Xiao?” you start quietly after a while. He hums in response, your fingers running through his dark hair soothingly. “Can I kiss you?”

The question is soft, self-conscious almost with the fear of rejection. But you were beyond a breaking point. The feelings were welling up in your chest like a high tide as you felt him tense up at your question.

Sex was common—quite often as a means of easily transferring adeptal energy to you. And because it was a painful process to take in, you found that this method dulled the pain through the twisted pleasures and mixed sensations.

But that’s all it was— a means to keep you alive. You could never say there was a time Xiao kissed you and he always showed restraint in touching your body more than necessary. His bodily needs were never foremost on his mind and he would never tell you how his hands ached to roam your body, how this arrangement became an illusion of a different reality he couldn’t have. And so he locked away his emotions for his own sake.

Xiao lifted his face from your chest, his golden eyes wide with momentary confusion—perhaps even shock. And your face… those wonderful sparkling eyes that glistened with glossy tears on the brink of rolling down your face. He wished he wasn’t the reason you were crying.

In an instant he propped himself up on his forearms, feeling you lightly tremble beneath him from holding back the urge to cry. A quiet hiccup left you as you were overwhelmed by bottled up feelings all at once, his thumb gently brushing your tears away.

“Why?” was all he asked.

Though it was a genuine question, his actions remained tender and calmed the anxiety that gripped your naive heart.

“Because I love you—because I think I love you.”

Quietly you hiccuped beneath him and Xiao gently rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed.

“Then love me if it makes you happy,” he responds softly. The tears that twinkle down your face like falling stars are gently kissed away by his soft lips. “I’m with you until the day I die, and if loving me makes living less painful for you then use me as an anchor to reality.”

Your soft crying is hushed as Xiao presses a tender kiss to your lips. It’s short and just enough to bloom your heart with newfound emotions you had yet to experience. Perhaps you reminded the adeptus of himself in a simpler time—naive, innocent. For that, he took pity on you, and also fell deeply in love with you though he would not know it for a long time.

Simply put, he wouldn’t allow himself to know it.

The flowers that surround the small house glow and dance in the night breeze. They bloom with your newfound knowledge—heartache.

#adeptus xiao #xiao/reader #xiao x reader #zhongli #xiao just trying his best #genshin xiao #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #genshin #light smut #smut #pwp #fluff #drabble collection: coffee break for two #drabble #soft #the concept of this is hor knee I’m so sorry

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dragonmasterkaylz · 3 years

Text

Wife of Poseidon

WARNING: Contains Smut, Rape & Brutal Murder. If you are sensitive to these topics or under the age of 18, don’t read. Also, if my interpretation of Poseidon is a little off, I do apologise. And he is a little (very) yandere in this. This also contains a character of my own making… so if you don’t like that, don’t read it.

Within Poseidon’s Palace, lives a beautiful woman with gorgeous blue hair that almost sparkled in the light. Her eyes matched the blue of the ocean and her body was so voluptuous, only wearing a white bodysuit with golden accents and pale blue jewels on her collar and her hips. Along with gloves and matching stockings, a sheer blue material connecting her outfit together and trailing behind her. Her name is Aquamarie and she was Poseidon’s Queen.

She was beyond beautiful in Poseidon’s eyes and the perfect Queen for him due to her Humility and Kindness. And no one was allowed to look directly at his Queen unless they wanted their head to leave their shoulders. The God wasn’t necessarily worried that another man would steal his Queen from him, especially since she had already pledged her loyalty to him and loved him unconditionally. He just didn’t want his beautiful wife to be tainted with another ones gaze, especially from his servants.

She walked down the Palace, and into the Throne Room, only to find a bunch of dead servants and her angry husband. ‘Oh dear! Isn’t it too early for this?! I only just woke up!!!’ She ran over to him and asked, “What happened?!!” He looked at his wife and gently stroked her cheek, making her blush and smile under his gentle touch. “They were tainting you with their with words of lust and perversion, thinking I wouldn’t hear them. Anyone who thinks like that about you must be taken out… no questions asked. Now, let’s leave… I wouldn’t want their blood to taint your loveliness”, he told her.

The other Gods believed that Poseidon was actually using Aquamarie more as his property than his actual wife. But the truth was far sweeter. She is the only woman that understands him, the only woman to love him for the brutal God he is, and the only woman he could love. Which is exactly the reason why he wouldn’t want anyone to taint her with their disgusting words, touch or even sight. This was just in his nature, to keep his wife from experiencing anything he deemed unworthy of her.

“Poseidon… you really must stop killing our servants though, or else you won’t have any left. Next time, just try throwing them in the dungeon”, she suggested. He hummed and asked, “Do you disagree with my methods?” She sighed and gently placed her hands on his chest before saying, “Of course not. But you should think about this logically. You cannot always resort to violence when things start to displease you.” He hummed and walked past her before saying, “You know I cannot do that my love. There are reasons for my titles, and I cannot throw that away by suddenly becoming merciful.”

Aquamarie stood next to him in silence and he looked at her before suddenly stopping in his tracks. “Hm…?” She stopped and turned back to look at him. His stance was almost as solid as rock, but she giggled when she saw the softness in his eyes… as well as the slight blush in his cheeks. She placed her arms around him and then kissed him gently. Poseidon closed his eyes and kissed her back, making every servant watch. He only had one weakness and that was the beautiful woman in his arms. No one would think that ‘The Most Fearsome God’ had a soft side and that’s because only his wife saw it. If anyone else did… they were killed.

“I’m sorry… I should’ve kissed you as soon as I saw you”, she said with blush coating her cheeks. He then whispered in her ear, “That’s going to cost you later, my beloved.” Then he held her hand and walked to the meeting room, where many other Olympian Gods and Goddesses were. Hermes bowed respectfully in their presence and then said, “Lady Aquamarie, I have tea and cakes laid out for you.” She smiled happily and said, “Thank you Hermes~!” And then she took her seat next to her husband before looking happily at her spread. “I see that your wife has a sweet tooth, brother!”, Zeus said with a smirk. “Hmph.” “Silent as ever I see.”

After the meeting was over, Poseidon walked out with his wife, who was still eating cake. “Hmm~, delicious~!” He looked at her and sighed before grabbing her chin, making her look at him. “You’re a messy eater…”, he said to her before licking her chin and then her lips. She blushed heavily and finished eating, before looking up at him. “Hm… not my first choice. But it’s not bad either”, he said to her before walking away. “H-Hey…! You can’t just do something like that and then walk away as if nothing happened!”, she protested. He chuckled at the claim she was making and then said, “Don’t dawdle then… come here if you want me to pleasure you but also punish you for not kissing me as soon as you woke up.”

Hours later, in the bedroom, Poseidon had his wife begging for mercy under his surprisingly gentle touch. He had already cum inside of her multiple times but he didn’t let her cum once, overstimulating her. Aquamarie begged and begged as he trusted into her while playing with her clit, making her scream out. He smirked and kissed her neck as he used his other hand to squeeze her breast. “M-My Lord… Poseidon~…! I’m begging you…!!! It won’t happen again…!!! Let me cum~…!!!”, she begged as she leaned her head back on his shoulder. Poseidon loved the fact that his wife was a masochist, but even he knew that she had her limits. She tried to stop herself, but she started to squirt into his hand. He smirked and whispered, “Don’t you dare… not until I finish inside of you again, my dearest.”

She screamed as she was put onto her hands and knees. He spanked her a few times, making sure red marks were present on her. Then he held her hips pretty hard, hoping bruises would form on her beautiful body. He leaned down and kissed her skin, leaving more and more markings on her. He wanted the entire world to know that she belonged to him and only him. She was his Queen, his Wife, his beloved and hopefully one day… the Mother of his children. “I want to breed you…”, he confessed. “Then please… breed me. I want your children~”, she responded before turning around so she could look at him. He kissed her and then said, “Cum with me, my love.” Poseidon grunted as he felt himself cum inside of her once more, but that was nothing compared to her screaming as she came. “POSEIDON~!!!”

Aquamarie fell on their bed as he pulled out of her and gently pulled her into his arms, kissing her head. A giggle escaped her lips and she kissed his cheek. “That was mean.” He smirked and then kissed her properly before saying, “But you deserved divine punishment for not kissing me this morning.” She cupped his cheeks and brought him down for another kiss, wrapping her arms around him. “Hmm… don’t tempt me to fuck you again.” “Hehe~. I won’t… I don’t think my hips can handle it…”, she replied. Poseidon rested her upon their bed and kissed her cheek. “Rest up, my love.” “I will.” As he exited the room, fully clothed, a few servants wanted to exact revenge on the God for his ruthless nature.

Poseidon sat on his throne, looking as bored as ever. His wife was sleeping, there were no more meetings for the day, so he felt as though he could just fall asleep then and there. He closed his eyes and smiled as he thought about his beloved Queen and their future children. But that was interrupted by Aquamarie’s scream. His eyes widened and he grabbed his Trident before heading straight to his bedroom, only to see a few of Aquamarie’s maids outside, attempting to get in. “Stand back!”, he ordered. Once they were out of the way, he kicked the door down, taking it off its hinges and walked in.

His eyes widened at what he saw. Three of his servants having their way with his defenceless wife. Her eyes almost had no colour in them as they fucked her from behind, fucked her mouth and took pleasure in the sight of Poseidon’s wife being violated by them. “You filthy bastards…!”, he said, his voice filled with rage as he pulled the one watching away from her and skewered him with his Trident, not killing him though. He then pointed the bloody Trident at the other two and shouted, “Get your filthy cocks away from my wife, this instant!!!” His orders were clear, but they were ignored.

Aquamarie then screamed as one of them grabbed her hair, pushing himself further inside, hurting her. Tears ran down her cheeks, which was the last straw for him. He grabbed the one violating her mouth and threw him against the wall, knocking him out. “I’m sorry my dear…”. And finally used the end of his Trident to push the other against the headboard, knocking him out as well. His wife then crawled up to him and hugged him. “I-I’m sorry…!!!” “Don’t you dare apologise… they’ll be receiving the worst punishment possible for this”, he whispered back to her. “Maids! Take care of my Queen and clean her up!” They obeyed immediately and two of them helped her stand up before placing a robe around her.

While the servants were being tortured, the maids cleaned her up, and then got her to rest in a hot spring just after her bath. “Is that all, my lady?”, one of them asked. “Yes… please tell Poseidon where I am. I want to see him.” “Of course. Please have a lovely rest”, the maid said before leaving. Tears ran down the Queens cheeks and she cried into her hands, as she felt as if she had betrayed her own husband. The maid walked down into the dungeons and approached Poseidon, bowing in the process. “My Lord… Queen Aquamarie would like to see you in the hot springs as soon as possible.” “Alright…”.

The Tyrant of the Seas was covered in blood, looking at the three servants who violated his beloved wife. They weren’t so much as allowed to look at her, so the crime they committed deserved a fate worse than death. “Call Hades and make sure these three are tortured in the Underworld for all eternity”, Poseidon said as he walked away. “Yes, my Lord.” The God showered himself and washed away the blood before heading towards the Hot Spring, which he only had in his Palace since Aquamarie loved the ones in Japan. He wasn’t too fond of humans, if anything he hated them. But he tolerated their customs, especially if his wife did.

Poseidon wasn’t surprised to see his wife crying on the side of the hot spring. He got in the water alongside her and gently pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry…! I’m sorry!” He rubbed her back and said, “I told you not to apologise. You were asleep, tired and sore. They used that to their advantage… but I can assure you, that they’ve been punished for their actions.” She nodded, but that did not stop her from crying her heart out. Unlike most Gods and Goddesses, she did not have a heart of steel and was very gentle. He kissed her and placed a hand over heart, as if he wanted to heal it. “Hey… you’re still having my children”, he reminded her. She giggled and said, “Yes… Yes I am~.”

END

#record of ragnarok poseidon x reader #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok poseidon #canon x oc #don’t like don’t read

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jinkicake · 4 years

Text

High And Dry

The captains’ reactions to when you suck them off before practice, refuse to let them cum, and leave them with a boner right as practice starts.

Bokuto Koutarou x Reader

Kita Shinsuke x Reader

Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

Oikawa Tooru x Reader

Sawamura Daichi x Reader

Terushima Yuuji x Reader

Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader

Here you go anon~ AH, this is so long I’m going to add ‘read more’ so it doesn’t clutter your tl. I think this is one of the longest things I’ve ever written so please excuse the typos or weird wording if there is any,,, I can only reread my writing so many times as I edit it LOL

SMUT // NSFW

WC- 4,317

~~~

Bokuto Koutarou

Bokuto would be sooo happy to get a blowjob, right before practice too? Shite, it’s gonna make him sooo excited

Not to mention he will be a BEAST during practice like he is going to go off, emo Bokuto will not exist that day

Bokuto doesn’t really plan that well so I feel like there is a good chance someone is going to walk in on the two of you

And that person is definitely going to be Akaashi

The setter won’t ‘notice’ though, he will pretend not to notice because of his big heart but he def saw

You may have to smack Bokuto silly for almost getting caught, like he wanted this so badly and didn’t prepare for it?!

Once you leave him high and dry Bokuto will go emo mode

Literally,,, he will be so dramatic and act like he can’t move like he has a broken leg or something…. You know,,, I mean his dick really be a third leg

He will be so lost and clueless, truly

The next time he sees you after you leave him hanging, he will pounce on you

“Please,” Bokuto pouts and you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest.

“No.” You reply and Bokuto dramatically groans before sulking.

“It’ll help me play better,” Boktuo tries to persuade and you tap your chin with your finger. In truth, it is your fault that Bokuto has a boner but that doesn’t mean you have to suck him off! In any other instance, you would be on your knees and Bokuto wouldn’t even have to ask you but right now it’s different. Had you two not been in the storage closet and had Bokuto’s practice not start in twenty minutes you would have definitely said yes but now, it’s too risky.

“Let me think about it,” You tease and purse your lips in thought, feeling slightly guilty at Bokuto’s hopeful eyes. “no."

“Why not?” Bokuto cries and wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you into his chest so he can grind his pelvis against your lower back. “This is all for you.” He purposely tries to seduce you, not understanding what the word subtle means, and you want to roll your eyes at his method.

“Because you have practice in like twenty minutes, Kou! And you know Akaashi always comes in early! You think you’ll be able to cum in ten minutes?” You ask him and Boktuo nods like it’s the easiest question in the world.

“Are you really asking me this, (Y/N)?” He almost wants to scoff but instead kisses your neck.

“It’s too risky,” You whine and Bokuto only tightens his grip on you.

“But me eating you out last week in our classroom, that wasn’t risky?” Bokuto accuses and you scoff while lightly slapping the side of his head.

“Don’t bring that up!” You cringe and Bokuto shakes his head.

“You really enjoyed it, and begged me to do it all day,” He sticks his tongue out and you reach back to cup him through his shorts, roughly fondling him as you sink to your knees.

“Yay!”

“Shut up,” You hiss and start to pull down his shorts when you hear the familiar creek of the door opening. Instantly you rip your hands away from Bokuto and pretend to be looking at your shoe.

“Oh, Bokuto, (Y/N), what are you guys doing here so early?” Akaashi asks curiously as he grabs the cart of volleyballs.

“Just tying Bokuto shoes.” You laugh nervously and Akaashi nods his head.

“Yeah, he sometimes needs help with that. Since you guys are here early you can help me set up the nets.” Akaashi points to the poles and you mentally groan as he walks away.

Bokuto pouts at you when you walk towards the doors of the closet.

“Kou, I’m not sucking you off so stop looking at me like that.”

Kita Shinsuke

Kita is such a sweetheart like why would anyone want to tease my sweet baby like this

It would be great revenge though,,,,, to leave him with a rock hard boner before practice HAHAHA

Let’s say he ditches you for Atsumu or something…. Just suck him off right before practice and leave him like that, it would be great payback…. You’ll learn your lesson Kita!!!

I feel like it would be hard to convince him to let you suck him off in the closet,,, Kita just seems so responsible and level-headed, mature, like how could he let you suck him off in public?!

But then you sink to your knees and all his thoughts of restraint are GONE

It would seriously take some heavy convincing for this man to allow you to suck him off before practice

Like he needs to remain calm, and mentally prepare, before dealing with the clowns he calls a team, but one thought of your beautiful mouth wrapped around him and Kita is HOOKED

He really likes when you give him blowjobs like Kita,,,, becomes such a mess for you because it feels sooo good

If you leave him high and dry,,, good luck…. He will literally plan how to get you back the second you leave

Kita does not care about the boner sticking out through his shorts, he is more hellbent on punishing you,,, even if he deserved it

“Petal, you don’t have to.” Kita tells you but you refuse to listen to him, having him already halfway in your mouth. “My sweet petal, you’re always so good to me.” He groans softly and grabs your hands with his, tangling his fingers with your own.

Kita always lets you set the pace, he never tries to control you whenever you suck him off.

You hum lightly and run your tongue along the underside of his cock, caressing every ridge and vein with your warm muscle. Kita loves hearing you moan, loves seeing the way spit pools out of your mouth at the size of his cock, everything you do leaves him utterly weak.

His fingers squeeze yours and you smirk at how turned on he has become in such a short amount of time. A lightbulb flickers over your head and you purposely take him entirely in your mouth, ignoring the burn you feel in your throat. Kita lurchers forward, squeezing your hands so tightly that you nearly wince. You try to take him deeper, a personal challenge to see if you can touch your nose to his abdomen but before you can do so, you end up gagging.

Kita immediately lets go of your hands, he cups your cheeks and pulls you off of him. Despite the need to cum at the sight of you looking so wrecked, he can’t help but worry about you.

“Petal, are you okay? You can’t just-“ Kita lets out a high-pitched moan as you take him entirely in your mouth once again, you’ve never heard him release a noise like that. It only fuels you to keep going even more. After you swallow around him once more, you let go and pull yourself off him to stand up to your feet. Kita looks utterly confused, and delectable with the way he is oh so spread out for you, you simply narrow your eyes at him. “My love?”

“Next time you want to ditch me for Atsumu, remember that I am the only one who can make you cum.” With one last glare you flip your hair over your shoulder and walk out the closet, leaving Kita with an uncomfortable ache between his thighs and a team to lead in less than five minutes.

Kuroo Tetsurou

Kuroo is such a punk ass mf,,, he wouldn’t have to think twice about getting his dick wet before practice

You… on the other hand, though, might need some convincing,,, which is no problem for Kuroo

Please his smooth-talking and sweet words will have you on your knees before he even finishes his sentence

I feel like Kuroo would purposely do stuff to get caught, not that he wants to be caught but he likes to rile you up,,,, he’ll moan extra loud or knock his head against the wall

He loves it whenever you get mad at him and slap his thigh or tightly grip the base of his cock as a punishment

Kuroo loves his punishments

When you leave him high and dry for whatever reason, most likely because he deserves it, Kuroo will be so confused

“What do you mean no?” He’d pout and frown in a way that makes you want to finish him off for being so cute

But let’s be real, this freak will have no problem jerking off in the bathroom or something like he will finish in less than five minutes

So if you don’t finish him off then it’s no problem, he’d still be pissed though because he loves when you touch him but, he wouldn’t hold it against you

Kuroo’s groans vibrate against the walls of the small storage room and you pinch his muscular thigh as a warning. Your irritating boyfriend simply sends you a cheeky grin before moaning at the way you suck on the tip of his dick.

How you let Kuroo’s smooth words convince you to suck him off before practice, you don’t know, but you have a feeling you’re going to regret it.

You move your mouth along his member, running your tongue along the underside of his cock, bobbing your head with purpose. Kuroo stares down at you, his teeth digging into his bottom lip and you know what he wants you to do.

It is always so hard to fit all of him into your mouth, the ache in your jaw always punishes you whenever you try it but, you always push yourself to do it. This has to do with the way Kuroo will literally fall to his knees, the way you can feel his thighs shaking, whenever you take him down your throat and hollow your cheeks.

He fucking loves it.

With one last deep breath, you squeeze your eyes shut before opening them and taking Kuroo down your throat. Kuroo chokes and his hazel eyes widen, his jaw falls open and he leans his head back against the wall. He looks so ruined, so captivated only by your mouth and it makes you feel all warm inside.

“So good baby, so good.” He praises and smooths your hair over, you moan happily around him.

Much to your horror, you hear footsteps outside the closet. You glance at the door and notice Kenma sliding it open. The pudding head takes one glance at you before shifting his eyes to Kuroo, and with a disappointed shake of his head, he slowly slides the door close without so much as one word.

“Kuroo, what the fuck!” You cringe and push yourself off of him, the hot humiliation floods over you. Of course, someone was going to see!

“Babe, what?” He looks so utterly confused and you simply motion to the door, Kuroo didn’t even notice. You simply cover your face and hide in his chest, completely ignoring the way his cock twitches against your stomach. “You going to finish this or what?”

“NO!”

Oikawa Tooru

Oikawa is all talk, my favorite shit talker. He is THE shit talker of Haikyuu and not one person can beat him

I’m not taking any other arguments because they are all wrong~

Oikawa would literally be like ‘you want to help me get ready for practice?’ All cooly and suggestively but then the second you follow him into the locker room he screams

“W-what are you doing here?! (Y/N)?!” He’d be so shocked… you ….. in the boy’s locker room?!

His precious s/o can not simply breath the disgusting boy air from the locker room and so Oikawa brings you to the storage closet

“Did you not want a blowjob?” You’d have to bring it up or else Oikawa would be so confused, cue Oikawa’s head exploding

Oikawa.exc is not working

You’d have to convince Oikawa to let you suck him off because he would not be that into it,,, it’s in public and he doesn’t want to get caught! Oikawa has standards~

Of course, once you actually get to work and start sucking him off THEN he would be into it,,,, when you stop and leave he’d be like ‘where are you going?!’

Then you can simply tell him to get someone else to finish him off,,, to which he’d bite back and say that he would !!! Oikawa, Iwaizumi is not going to suck you, off I’m sorry.. not in this case >:-)

“(Y/N)!” Oikawa cries dramatically and you roll your eyes while wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “I didn’t finish,” He pouts and you nearly give in, but then you remember why you are so angry. You instead ignore Oikawa and place him back into his shorts, lightly patting his hard cock over the thin material.

“Go ask one of your other girlfriends to do it.” You sneer and Oikawa places a hand over his chest, gasping in shock. “You always ditch me to go talk to them so why not just ask them to help you instead!” You continue to rant and Oikawa feels himself smirk.

“You’re jealous.” He points out and you snap your eyes to his, his warm brown eyes flirt with your own and you nearly slap him upside the head.

“Wouldn’t you be?” You snap back and Oikawa raises an eyebrow. “Next time you want attention, I’ll just go talk to Hanamaki.”

Oikawa internally sighs, his own ego-deflating a bit when he realizes how upset you are. He never intends to hurt your feelings.

“Baby,” He coos softly and wraps his hand around your bicep to bring you directly back into his chest. “my precious (Y/N), I’m sorry.” Oikawa apologizes softly while running his thumb along your arm in gentle circles. “You know I never want to hurt you, I should have noticed before.”

You want to roll your eyes but you feel yourself faltering when Oikawa begins to lightly kiss your neck.

“You’re all I’ll ever need, don’t you realize that?” He asks while hovering his lips over your ear, moving one of his arms to grip your waist. Oikawa gently blows into your ear and grins when he notices the way you squirm. “You have no reason to be jealous, baby, I promise.”

You timidly look up at your boyfriend, insecurity written all over your face, and Oikawa cups your face with his hands before placing a soft peck on your lips.

“I’m still not going to finish you off.” You snap and Oikawa pouts before kissing you once again.

“And I love you for that~”

Sawamura Daichi

Daichi seems like the type of responsible person who would not be into any sexual interactions in public but,,,,

I feel like if you asked if you could suck him off before practice, Daichi would be like ‘sure’

Only if you are alone, if there are other people around he would scold you and act like he wasn’t into it

It is not that hard to lure Daichi into the palm of your hand but make no mistake, he still has most of the control

Pretty much, all of the control

So,,,, when you get up and leave, literally paying no attention to the fact that you left Daichi with the worst boner he’s ever had in his life-

Daichi is not going to have it, he’d be so confused and I think he would be quick enough that he’d grab you and be like yo wtf

It’s not hard to get out of his grasp though, just play with him a little bit and then catch him off guard and then RUN

Daichi would probably be one the funniest mfs in haikyuu to tease because he is so …. Idk I feel like his revenge punishments would really be worth it

Like this man will plan out everything for his precious baby, he will leave you withering and crying for more,,, all because you ran away before he got the chance to cum

“Daichi!” Sugawara whispers, his brown eyes wide in shock as he tries not to look at his friend’s shorts. Daichi only sighs before turning to his vice-captain, already knowing what he is going to say.

“What?” Daichi whispers back and the grey-haired boy subtly points to his shorts.

“You’re,” Sugawara starts but shakes his head to clear his thoughts. “You have a boner!” He whisper-yells and Daichi tilts his head back, trying not to audibly groan in annoyance.

“I’m aware of that Sugawara.” Daichi sighs sadly and his friend looks appalled by his answer.

“You need to go fix it!” Sugawara scrunches his nose before pushing his friend towards the bathroom, sending a nearly passed out Asahi a sympathetic smile. “Go! Don’t come back until you’re normal!”

Daichi sighs once again and sits down on the bench, irritation flowing through his blood at the fact that Sugawara quite literally benched him. He tries to think about something, something to make him so soft that he can never get hard again, but it doesn’t work. Not when the only thing he sees are your teasing eyes and sinful tongue worshipping his cock.

Is he really going to jerk off in the bathrooms?

Daichi thinks and walks with shame as he heads to one of the stalls, his fist already pumping his length underneath his shorts. This is so disgusting.

Yet, the painful tense feeling in his shorts is more powerful than the shame he is facing. Daichi closes his eyes and tries to remember the way your cheeks hollowed as you swallowed around him. He remembers the feeling of your hands cupping his balls and massaging them with your soft fingers. Daichi bites his lip to hide back the moan he faces after one particularly hard tug.

Each jerk of his hand is associated with some thought of you. Your eyes welling up with tears, your moans, the way you gag around his cock, the way you stick your tongue out after he finishes to show him all the cum you collected.

Fuck. Daichi comes all over his hand, thankfully catching most of it on the tissue paper he had beforehand.

Now all Daichi can think about is getting through practice and punishing you so harshly that you’ll be begging him to stop.

Terushima Yuuji

Terushima would be so casual when asking for a blowjob, the boy has no shame

‘Hey babe, suck my dick after school.’ ‘Please, I’ll make it worth your while.’

Typical fuck boy methods but the only difference is that Terushima genuinely only wants you,,, You’re exclusive

He’d have to persuade you to suck him off,, he would never force you to do it or force it onto you like he will only let you suck him off if you want to do it

If you leave him without letting him finish, Terushima will fall into despair

Like yeah, he can finish off in the bathroom but he doesn’t want to do that!

He’s not mad at all, if anything you teasing him and leaving him dry like this makes the entire situation hotter

I feel like Terushima would be an expert at hiding his boner and he would not do anything to take care of it

He would practice with that boner and will carry the energy of wanting you so badly all the way until you finish him off

Terushima is the type to pull up to your house with such an innocent nice smile, say hi to your siblings and parents before completely destroying you in your room

“Ah, that’s it baby, so good to me.” Terushima groans loudly, he’s leaning against the wall with his legs parted slightly so that you can fit between them. His long fingers are threaded in your hair and he uses the grip he has to move your mouth along his cock. The pace he is fucking your face at is fast, every time you gag it just makes him even harder.

You’ve continuously told Terushima time and time again that if he thrusts into your mouth when he is already down your throat, you would stop. So far, he has listened.

“Yes, shit.” His head falls back against the wall when your nose brushes against his pubic hairs, the feeling of your tight warm walls convulsing around him nearly makes Terushima cum. “That’s my girl.” He moans and you whine at the noise, something about Terushima’s moans make you clench around nothing, it makes you utterly weak. The vibrations from your mouth go straight to his cock and Terushima can’t help the way he bucks his hips, thrusting deeper down your throat. You gag loudly and shake your head, a few tears fall from your eyes at the painful sensation.

Angrily, you push Terushima off of you and hold onto his thighs. You cough loudly to try and get rid of the sore feeling in your throat, but it doesn’t go anywhere.

Terushima feels bad, he really does, but fuck he can’t stop looking at your swollen lips and puffy cheeks.

“Babe, I’m sorry-“ He starts but you cut him off.

“No, I told you what would happen if you did that again.” You roll your shoulders back as you stand up on your feet, flicking his forehead as soon as you get close enough to him.

“Come on,” Terushima grabs your hand and tries to bring you back to his chest but you simply slap his hand away. “I really am sorry.” He apologizes with a soft kiss to your lips, lovingly rubbing his thumb along the front of your throat.

“I forgive you but, I’m not finishing you off right now.” You tell him and turn around to walk out the door, leaving Terushima with his ultimate nightmare.

Ushijima Wakatoshi

Ah, Wakatoshi my sweet baby bear~ Where do I begin >:-)

He’s so chill that if you offer to suck him off before practice he would say yes

I feel like he might lecture you about the risks or something just to talk to you LOL ,,, it’s so casual like he’s talking about what he’s eating for dinner that night... ‘if we get caught, we could get in trouble, I would not mind if you sucked me off though’

Yeah he will have no refusal when it comes to you offering oral like you do not need to ask him twice

He loves when you suck him off so much that he does not care if you have any ill intentions behind your movements

This would be the ultimate tease move, the ultimate power move that would leave Ushijima BENT

Literally, you leaving him high and dry would have him leaving practice as soon as it ends and making a b-line to your room to fuck you until the ache between his thighs is gone

He will go feral and tbh,,,, yeah that’s what you wanted

Truthfully he wouldn’t be mad at all, he would just be confused like genuinely lost. ‘I thought she wanted to suck me off, why did she leave?’

That day he’s going to make practice hell for the rest of the team, he has to get rid of his frustration somehow

“Fuck,” Ushijima hisses through grit teeth, his jaw slightly agape as he holds your hair out of your face. Your innocent eyes stare up at him as you swallow around his aching cock, there is quite the contrast between the two tones. Ushijima’s chest heaves with every breath he takes and you squeeze your thighs together when you watch the way his eyes flutter shut. His entire chest is out on display for you and it makes you take him even deeper down your throat.

At the sound of a bell ringing, you take a deep breath in through your nose before taking Ushijima all the way in your mouth. Your nose brushes his pubic hairs and from there you run your tongue along the base of his cock while swallowing all around him. Listening to Ushijima’s loud grunts and feeling his hands tighten their grip in your hair makes your stomach sting like heat is simmering within you and needs to be taken care of quickly. Despite this, and Ushijima’s refusal, you pull off of him.

Ushijima stares down at you, his pupils blown wide, as his chest continues to move like he had just finished running a marathon. You break eye contact with him to lick at your bottom lip, breaking the line of spit that had connected you to his hard cock. Ushijima’s breath stutters.

You teasingly cup him before placing back in his boxers, you lean forward to place a kiss on the boner poking out through his shorts. Your boyfriend grits his teeth at your movements.

“You have practice babe, good luck.” With that, you stand up and place a kiss on the corner of Ushijima’s lips. Your boyfriend barely has time to even notice that you’re leaving, his brain running with thoughts of how you just sucked him off so well.

He didn’t even get to cum.

A loud sigh leaves Ushijima’s lips as he stares down at his shorts, should he jerk off? He can’t just show up to practice like this. He tries to remember what Tendou had told him, think of something to turn him off, but he can’t stop thinking about your warm mouth.

Fuck, what is he going to do now?

The next day all you heard about from Tendou was how hard Ushijima made them practice, the red head kept complaining about all the running they had to do. You couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit guilty and responsible for it.

Taglist.

@yams046 @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy @xhanjisungiex @xxashshs @chaosamu @angelkogane @augustdearly @kunimwuah @lovellucy @osamuonigiri @pearzuko @darksxder @macaronnv @nerdygremlin

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lancermylove · 3 years

Text

Silence (HC)

Fandom: Obey Me

Pairing: All x fem!Reader, Luke platonic

Warning: None

Requested by: Anon

Prompt: Could you do the Obey Me characters reacting to a happy go lucky and spunky MC who has a bad day. She goes from being a total pain in the ass to quiet as hell, seemingly thinking her usual self is annoying and so withdraws. This is hyper specific as all hell sorry 😭

A/N: Anon, I love specific requests! :) I tried to play around with different ideas to avoid making all of them sound the same. Hope you like it! Also, I can relate to MC~ I’m the exact same way.

———————————————

Diavolo wasn't sure how to react when he saw the sudden change in your personality. He thought Simeon was scary, but seeing you quiet as hell scared him far more.

"(Y/N), what's wrong?" He asked in a concerned voice, but you simply shook your head and didn't utter a word.

The Ruler of Devildom didn't know what to do, so he went right to his usual solution to everything related to you; he wrapped his arms tightly around you and refused to release you until you told him why you weren't yourself.

"I want to give you a break from my generally annoying self."

Diavolo was shocked to hear your words and slowly released you. "Why would you say something like that? I love your cheerful and determined personality; if I didn't, then I wouldn't be with you."

The prince pressed his lips to your forehead and gently touched your cheek, "Just be yourself, alright? I love you just the way you are. Now, please show me the bright smile that I simply cannot get enough of."

"What's wrong?" Solomon asked while taking a seat next to you. You shook your head, and he knew you were lying. "You better tell me, or else, I will be forced to use another method."

Even though he playfully threatened you, you refused to budge. The sorcerer crossed his arms and turned his head towards you, "Don't say I didn't warn you. (Y/N), what concert costs just 45 cents?"

You looked at him confused, "What?"

Solomon repeated his question, but when you didn't reply, he said, "50 Cent featuring Nickleback."

You stared at him with a blank face, but he continued talking, "Did you hear about the cheese factory exploding in France? Da brie is everywhere."

"Solomon, stop," you mumbled.

"Not until you smile and tell me what's wrong," he chuckled, "when I was a kid, my mother told me I could be anyone I want. Turns out, identity theft is a crime."

You bit your lower lip to suppress the urge to laugh.

"Did you hear the rumor about butter? Well, I'm not going to spread it."

Your laughter filled the room, "Those were horrible dad jokes."

"Hm? Dad jokes, but I am not a dad...unless you want to make me one," Solomon teased and enjoyed the various shades of red dancing across your face.

Barbatos saw your face and knew right away that something was wrong. He headed to the kitchen before visiting your room with a tray filled with your favorite snacks and beverage.

"What happened?" He asked, prepared for you not to reply. When you ignored his question and continued staring at the ground, Barb kneeled in front of you.

He lightly placed his hand atop yours and said, "Being silent doesn't suit you."

His words surprised you, and the butler was quick to notice. "Tell me, are you not fond of your usual self, or do you consider yourself to be...annoying?"

Though you didn't say anything, the tears in your eyes gave him his answer. He softly wiped the corners of your eyes and smiled, "Your radiant personality drew me towards you. Your presence has the power to illuminate even the most lackluster of atmospheres. I see no reason for you to deem your personality as annoying; my dear, you are perfect as you are."

Simeon got an unsettling feeling when he saw your blank expression. He sat beside you and wrapped his arms around you, drawing you closer, "What's wrong, my angel? Please, don't say nothing."

You explained to him that you were having a bad day.

"I see, but why are you so quiet? It's odd to see you so...withdrawn." He said, resting his chin atop your head.

"I thought I would give you a break from my annoying self."

"A-Annoying self?" Your words nearly made Simeon jump as he quickly released you from his embrace, "Why would you think you're annoying? Did something say something to you?"

You shook your head, and for a moment, he studied your face. The angel cupped your cheeks and pressed his lips to your forehead, "If you think you're annoying, then you are wrong. Your personality is a breath of fresh air...you shine just as bright as the heavens. Do you know why I refer to you as an angel? You can bring a smile to anyone's face, and I truly love that about you. Please don’t ever change or speak so harshly about yourself."

Simeon pressed a soft kiss to your lips, "Now shall we do something about the bad day? I heard eating sweets can help reduce stress, so what do you say we try the sweets Luke baked?"

As soon as Luke saw your expressionless face, his smile fell. He wasn't sure why you seemed distant, but he was determined to make you smile.

First Luke came to you with a plate of assorted cookies and sat them on the table in front of you. When you didn't smile and stared at him, he returned to the kitchen for a few moments.

He soon came back with a tray of cake slices. When you still didn't smile, he headed to the kitchen once again and returned with a tray of cupcakes.

Then came the pastries, the pies, the eclairs, and ice creams.

The young angel pouted seeing the smile still missing from your lips. He walked closer to you and wrapped his arms around you. Even though you didn't return his hug, he continued hugging you.

"Luke?"

"I won't let you go until you smile," he replied innocently.

You placed a hand on the back of his head and giggled at his cute action. "Um...am I supposed to finish all these desserts?"

Luke pulled away from the hug and nodded, "I heard the more sugar you eat, the happier you get, so eat up!"

When Belphie told his twin that you weren't yourself and something was wrong, Beel dropped everything and ran to you. The Avatar of Gluttony got even more worried when you didn't run up to him and bear-hugged him like usual.

He quickly walked to your bed, sat down, and pulled you onto his lap. Beel pressed his index fingers to the corners of your mouth and tugged your lips up, trying to get you to smile.

He pouted, "Why are you not smiling?"

Wordlessly, you looked away from his face, prompting Beel to say, "I...will give you all of my food if you smile."

"Why do you want to see me smile?" You asked under your breath.

"I like seeing you smile, it makes me happy," Beel grinned, "and you look pretty when you smile. I don't know why but my heart beats really fast when I see you happy."

His words were enough to make you forget your bad day and smile.

Asmo skipped into your room, excited to show you the new outfits he purchased, but his excitement vanished when he saw you.

The Avatar of Lust dropped all his bag and ran to your side. "Sweetie, is something the matter?"

You shook your head and stepped away from him, sending Asmo the message that you wanted to be left alone. He quietly gathered his bags and walked back to his room.

Moments later, you heard a knock on your door, and when you opened it, you saw a letter with a rose on your doorstep. Picking up the letter, you read it to yourself:

I never thought I would find something just as beautiful as me, but that something is nowhere in sight today. I wonder what I should do to bring it back? Should I kiss you? Should I hug you? How about going shopping? What will it take to bring back your beautiful smile?

After coming to Devildom, I never thought I would be able to see the light. Everything was always shrouded in the darkness, that is until you came along. You reminded us what true happiness felt like, to love each other for who we are, and most of all, you brought light into our lives - you brought light into my life.

Sweetie, seeing you in this state upsets me. I am always here for you no matter what. Now, please tell me what I can do to help you return to your cheery self.

Belphie was heading to the attic and saw you staring off into space in the living area. He made his way to you, stretched his body on the sofa, and rested his head on your lap. Then, he saw your expression. "(Y/N)? What’s wrong?"

When you mumbled nothing, he chuckled, "I know you're lying. Would you like to take a nap with me? It will help you relax."

You shook your head. Belphie rested his palm on the back of your head and pulled your head down, capturing your lips in a kiss. "I miss seeing the sparkle in your eyes. What happened?"

"I...had a bad day."

"Would you like to do something?" Belphie asked, "What if we go out for a bit? Will that help you?"

You blinked and asked, "What about your nap?"

"Your happiness is far more important to me than my nap." Belphie sat up and ruffled your hair, "Now, where do you want to go?"

When you didn't reply to Levi's message, he started panicking and thought something happened to you. He dropped his controller and rushed to find you.

Levi saw your withdrawn state and felt a knot form in his chest. He wasn't sure if you wanted to talk to him since you didn't reply to his texts, so he took your hand and walked you back to his room.

"Aside from playing games, do you know what helps me when I'm having a bad day?" He asked, fishing for a pair of headphones from his desk, "Music."

Levi sat on his large beanbag chair and sat you between his legs, sliding the headphones on your ears.

He wrapped his arms around you from behind and pressed your back to his chest.

While you were busy listening to music, Levi's face was turning different shades of red. 'Wow, her hair smells so good. She feels so warm...being close to her makes me happy.'

When you didn't burst through Lucifer's door after classes, he knew something wasn't right. He set out in search of you and found you quietly staring out a window.

He studied your posture and knew something was definitely wrong, but instead of asking, he decided to tease you a little.

"The house feels quieter than usual. Ah, finally some peace and quiet," Lucifer spoke in a taunting tone, "would be what I would say, but for an unknown reason, I dislike it."

"I know I'm annoying...sorry about that."

He raised an eyebrow at your unexpected apology and rested his hand on your head. "Annoying? Is that how you see yourself? Then, do let me say I disagree."

Lucifer paused and glanced at you, "Would you like to know what I deem as annoying? When Diavolo abandoning his work, and I've to complete it. When Mammon maxes out his cards, and I have to bail him each time. When Satan goes into rage mode, and I have to fix his mess. When Beel eats everything in Devildom, and I get angry letters from the other residents. When Asmo goes on a shopping spree, and the entire house is littered with shopping bags. When Levi locks himself in his room and refuses to interact with any of us."

"And...what about me?" You asked without looking at him.

"What about you, my dear? Your presence alone is enough to make the people around you smile. Having you around is nothing less than a blessing."

Lucifer gently gripped your chin and turned your head towards him. He flashed his renowned smirk and whispered in a deep voice, "If you dare to refer to yourself as annoying again, I will be forced to punish you."

When Satan saw your unusual behavior, he immediately thought someone hurt you. He rushed to your side, took hold of your shoulder, and looked into your eyes. "Did someone hurt you? Which demon do I need to teach a lesson?"

You shook your head and mumbled, "I am having a bad day."

The Avatar of Wrath sighed and began stroking your cheek with his thumb. Seeing your missing smile, he carried you to his room and asked you to wait for a bit.

After a while, Satan walked out of his bathroom wearing a fluffy cat ears headband, a cat tail, and painted-on whiskers. "Will this make you smile?"

You couldn't help but giggle at his cute look. "Satan...do you find my usual self annoying?"

He looked at you surprised and questioned, "Why would you ask such a question? No one in their right mind would find a woman who makes others happy annoying. Don't ever think that...besides, your smile makes me happy like nothing else."

Mammon came running into your room and hid behind you, but he quickly turned you to face him when he didn't see you reacting in the usual manner. "Why are ya not smilin'?"

You told him you had a bad day and don't feel like smiling. Mammon thought for a second and said, "I'll be back."

Half an hour later, Mammon returned and led you to Lucifer's office, asking you to wait at the door. He handed Lucifer a tray with coffee, sugar, and a small spoon before walking out.

He leaned closer to your ear and whispered, "The sugar is actually salt."

Lucifer took a sip of his coffee and barely managed to swallow it. "MAMMOOOON!"

He ran to Asmo's room with you and told you to look inside. His younger brother was about to moisturize his face, and as soon as he opened the tube, the cream exploded on his face.

Belphie was taking a nap, and Mammon squeezed shaving cream onto his youngest sibling's hand before tickling his nose.

The Avatar of Greed led you to the kitchen next, where he handed Beel a bowl of frozen cereal and watched his brother struggle to eat it.

Levi grabbed his game controller to play but the device got glued to his hand, and he couldn't get it off.

Satan heard a meowing sound coming from his room and ran to find a tape recorder sitting on his bed with a "HAHAHAHA" note next to it.

Mammon took you back to your room and started laughing, "Did ya see their expressions?"

"Mammon, why did you pull those pranks? You will get into trouble." You mumbled, shaking your head.

"I wanted to make ya smile. You find my prank funny, right? And...I don't care if I get into trouble as long as you are smiling." He whispered before embracing you, "I will do anything to make ya happy."

———————————————

➣ Obey Me Masterlist ➣ Buy me a Ko-fi or Commission?

#obey me #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me levi #obey me barbatos #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me belphie #obey me beel #lucien x reader #mammon x reader #diavolo x reader #barbatos x reader #satan x reader #asmo x reader #belphie x reader #beel x reader

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 29 - ao3 -

“In the future, you should send your children to the Cloud Recesses for me to teach,” Lan Qiren said. He was sitting with Wen Ruohan on one of the rooftop gardens in the Nightless City, watching the moon and stars from a pavilion placed there for that purpose; their bodies were pressed close together, and it felt as if they were far away from all the things that were familiar. “You and Lao Nie both, and naturally I’ll come visit with you often as well, bringing my nephew. Between the three of us, we might even be able to teach them how to be proper human beings.”

Wen Ruohan laughed in his ear and pressed his lips to his cheek – he had taken to kissing him at random, spontaneous, as if still overwhelmed by the fact that he now had the right to do it.

“I will,” he promised. “I agree, I think they’ll turn out better that way…you would really have me educate your precious little A-Huan?”

“If I’m willing to entrust myself with you, why not him? Anyway, I can teach him music, and with the aid of the other teachers in my sect the sword in the Lan sect style, but you can teach him much more than that. You know how to look at the world and see it for what it is, and then bend it to your will, make it sing to your tune. He’ll be sect leader in the future; he needs to learn that, and you can teach it to him.”

“I can, and I will,” Wen Ruohan said, then thought for a moment and asked, “What does Lao Nie bring to the table?”

“Flexibility, mostly.”

Wen Ruohan barked out a laugh. “He certainly has that.”

He didn’t even sound bitter about it any more.

Lan Qiren smiled.

“In the meantime, I will handle the rest of it,” Wen Ruohan added, and Lan Qiren looked at him in silent question. “Come now, Qiren. Did you really think that I would allow you to remain caged in the Cloud Recesses your whole life?”

Lan Qiren paused. That was the sorest part of his heart, his most painful misery, but he didn’t think Wen Ruohan would bring it up casually. If anything, he was a bit more afraid of what Wen Ruohan might get into his head to do about it – there was very little Wen Ruohan wouldn’t dare.

“Da-ge –” he started warily.

“No, no,” Wen Ruohan said, lightly scolding. “Little Lan, be serious! I already rejected the opportunity to cage you here at the Nightless City, playing only for me, despite how much I longed to do so. I refused to do it – me, refusing myself – because I knew it would only make you sad. Do you really think I would allow other people a privilege that I have denied myself?”

Lan Qiren did not laugh, but he dearly wanted to. It might be the first time he’d ever wanted to laugh about his situation – not even Cangse Sanren had managed that. “Has anyone told you that you are extremely self-absorbed?” he asked instead. “Arrogance is forbidden. Do not be haughty and complacent.”

Wen Ruohan smirked back at him. “All true, little Lan, but don’t forget your favorite: Do not tell lies.”

Self-absorbed, narcissistic and arrogant, Lan Qiren concluded, and there was no helping it. It was clearly a terminal case.

He used his sleeve to hide his laughter.

“What are you planning, exactly?” he asked once he had recovered. “If you harm my sect, whether directly or indirectly by denying them my services, I would be even more upset than if you tried to lock me away in here.”

Wen Ruohan waved a hand dismissively. “Do you think me so incapable? I have already begun making arrangements. Discussion conferences may only be once or twice a year, being as they are tremendously irritating to arrange, but there’s no reason that we of the Great Sects should not recognize our greater duty towards the smaller sects, and not to mention our obligations to protect the mortal world –”

“You know that it exists, then?”

Wen Ruohan ignored him. “The resources of cultivation clans are limited, and the world large. There are many places which would benefit from aid that do not see any simply because they are far away or tucked in inconvenient places, and no sect lives nearby – naturally, it is our duty to fight evil no matter where it is encountered. Lao Nie has already agreed that it is critical that the sect leaders demonstrate our sincerity by fulfilling this duty in person, leading by example.”

Lan Qiren’s heart had already felt as if it were overflowing with warmth, and it felt even more so now, almost squeezed to pain by how much joy was there. More than he had known he could contain.

Bad luck in brothers, he thought to himself - but oh, he had such good luck in friends!

“I see,” he said, thankful that his usual neutral tone concealed how happy he felt. “And naturally, where you and Lao Nie go, Sect Leader Jin cannot be far behind in his eagerness not to lose out, and where three of the five Great Sects lead, naturally the rest cannot be far behind. So I, too, will be obligated to...what? Go out on night-hunts in inconvenient places?”

“The world is too large, and the number of cultivators too few – and at any rate, there’s no point in setting up a full night-hunt which draws in every person from a thousand li for a few paltry fierce corpses or a ghost or two. I propose, instead, that we would send cultivators out alone, in pairs or in small groups, to wander for a few months through the remote places in the world and clean them up. Then, at the next discussion conference, the Great Sects could jointly agree that whoever was most enterprising would receive a reward, and naturally, stories of various exploits could be exchanged – ”

“Ah. Another reason for young men and women to gather and boast of improbable exploits.”

“Think of it as giving them more opportunities to win glory,” Wen Ruohan said. “And stop talking down about ‘young men’; you are a young man. Naturally you are also qualified to go out to do such things. Required, even: if our Great Sects do not set a proper example, who will?”

“Mm. A proper example. Even if I coincidentally happen to spend more time playing music than hunting demons?”

Wen Ruohan’s eyes were bright. “Even so. And naturally, you could always bring along someone more powerful to do the demon-hunting for you…”

“How convenient.”

Wen Ruohan smirked. “Do you doubt that I will be able to make it happen, little Lan?”

“No,” Lan Qiren said, then added, honestly: “I think you could take over the world if you wished.”

“Naturally! But it would be quite irritating, I think, if I had to also ensure that both you and Lao Nie did not disapprove of my methods…” He paused, lips twitching. “By coincidence, while we’re discussing convenience, I was thinking that it would be dangerous to send all those wild and reckless young men out there without proper support. Surely it would be only reasonable to set up a few convenient places here and there, not so far away, to provide them with supplies and a place to rest and recover –”

Convenient places that would fly the Wen sect’s flag and spread its influence, Lan Qiren presumed. Lanling Jin would be furious – using wealth to buy influence was their favorite technique, and they resented other people copying it – and would immediately insist on establishing their own set of “supply stations”, and then the rest of them would have to catch up and make their own. Yet another expense, and the Great Sects would need to do more than most; it would probably wreck havoc with the Lan sect’s annual budget.

On the other hand, well the remote parts of the world really did need the help. One of the Lan sect’s newly recruited guest disciples had been talking about a place not far from his hometown that specialized in making coffin goods; it was, according to him, the most inauspicious place that could possibly be imagined…

Not a place anyone might want to go, unless they truly were intent on traveling.

Lan Qiren smiled once again. He thought he might never stop smiling.

“Indeed,” he said, trying to sound dry and rational. “Very coincidental. No one will doubt that this is nothing but a scheme to expand your reach and power, rather than any personal motive.”

Wen Ruohan did not answer, but instead, matching a smile of his own to Lan Qiren’s, pressed his lips against Lan Qiren’s once more.

After a little while of silence, Lan Qiren cleared his throat and asked, “Do you intend to tell people?”

He was not referring to Wen Ruohan’s plans for the future.

Wen Ruohan understood.

“In time,” he said. “As much as I would love to shout that you are mine and I am yours from the rooftops and perhaps have bulletins be posted to every town -”

Lan Qiren grimaced. It would be one thing if he thought Wen Ruohan was exaggerating for romantic effect, but unfortunately it would be just like him to engage in that level of over-the-top grandstanding.

“– but your position is not yet certain, and my reputation is too questionable. People would make assumptions and spread malicious gossip, and I – I would not harm you to please myself.”

“Sweet-talker.”

“It’s not sweet-talking when it’s true,” Wen Ruohan protested, although he was chuckling. “When you are more renowned as a teacher than a sect leader, when little A-Huan is old enough to have passed the worst stretches of childhood – then we will announce it, and let the rest of the world choke on it if they like. You, me, Lao Nie…hmm. Jin Guangshan will probably think we’re concealing a conspiracy and ask to join in.”

Lan Qiren gagged. “I refuse,” he said. “I don’t care if I’m not physically involved, neither you nor Lao Nie are allowed to even think about it. That man has visited so many prostitutes that one might be forgiven for thinking he believes that the road to immortality is paved with venereal disease.”

“…thank you, that was an image I did not require.” A pause. “Jiang Fengmian –”

“Remember when he punched me in the face in a fight over a girl I didn’t even want?”

“It wasn’t a serious suggestion.” Wen Ruohan chuckled once more and pressed another kiss to his cheek. “Some years ago now, I swore to your Cangse Sanren that I would do right by you. I ought to invite her here and show her that I’ve made good on it.”

“You haven’t made good on it.”

“I haven’t?”

“No. Such a promise is fulfilled through the keeping – if you want to do right by me, there is no one singular moment that would qualify, but rather a continuing obligation.” Lan Qiren smiled up at him. “I’m sorry, da-ge. You’ll have to continue to do right by me for the rest of our lives.”

“I will,” Wen Ruohan said, and smiled back. “It would be my pleasure.”

-END-

#mdzs #lan qiren #wen ruohan #my fic #my fics #spilled pearls

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twistedsin · 3 years

Note

Hi, is it possible to request for a nsfw crewel x student! Reader? ;_; the reader is being a tease and tries to flirt with him during class. Then both of them end of doing it after school in his classroom?Thank you for your time! >.<

ABSOLUTELY!! I really like this request, I am sincerely sorry it took me so long to finish it. I’m glad I finally got to write pet-play professor.

For the context of this fic, we’re going to say Night Raven is a newly co-ed school. Male students still outnumber females, but it is no longer gender exclusive.

Disclaimer: Teacher x student. Don’t fuck your teachers for extra credit in real life, that is not how you succeed.

“Now, what is the element with the hottest melting point?” Crewel pointed his baton your way, as your fingers perked up.

“Tungin” You answered, a small smirk on your lips. The rest of the class started laughing, but your professor was smarter than that.

“Tungsten,” Crewel corrected as the class quieted down, “It is quite a robust element. Incredibly hard.” His eyes connected with yours. “Only in its purest form can you make it putty in your hands.” Crewel turned away and returned to his lecture...

“Now for today’s mini-lab, you and your partner need to list the 15 elements in order of weight. Once you have them all correct you may leave.”

You paired up with the person next to you and tried to cooperate with them. There was much more you looking over at Crewel than actually helping with the worksheet.

Eventually you 'accidentally' tossed your pen from your hand in the direction of his desk. It hit the floor and rolled to one of the legs, the placement couldn't have been more perfect. "Oops... I'll be right back." You told your partner, who didn't seem to care since you weren't helping anyway.

Concealing your bright smile with a mischievous, you walked over to the professor’s desk, his attention turning to you. "Did you have a question?" He rose a brow looking you over.

"Nope, just needed to get my pencil. It rolled over here." You explain as you drop to your knees in front of him, taking your time to turn onto all fours, your ass up and wiggling as you felt around for your pencil. Divus shifted in his chair, seeming to be looking back at the papers rather than the curve of your ass barely covered by the short uniform skirt. If he leaned back a little, he'd probably be able to see your panties, or if you were wearing any.

Unfortunately, he did not, and gave you a disinterested response, "If you can't find it. I'll loan you a new one. You should get back to your assignment." A small pout formed on your face before you grabbed your pencil and stood. "Wait," He called out when you were a few steps away. You eagerly turned, "Yes, sir?"

"In class, it's Professor, not sir." Divus held out a paper to you, your last test with the results in red at the top. A 69/100, not great. "Your grades seem to be slipping and this attitude of yours, I think you may need a reminder of who's in charge. See me after school."

"Yes, professor." You squeaked out trying not to smile too much. Sure you were in trouble but seeing him after school meant that the two of you would be alone together. And that part about teaching you who was in charge, it was way too easy to find a hidden meaning in that. Now it was even harder to focus on the work at hand. Even through the rest of your classes, all you could think about what Divus was going to teach you later.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Professor?" You called out, entering the classroom before waiting for a response, "You wanted to see me?”

"What is the point of knocking, if you're not going to wait for an answer?" Divus sighed from behind his desk. "You may come in. Be sure to lock the door. I hate when students just think they can barge in." He watched, making sure you did what you were told. Once you had locked the door you obediently went over and stood in front of his desk.

"I made it a goal to be sure none of my pups had red marks this semester." He removed his glasses and moved the stack of paperwork into a drawer. "You are at risk of me breaking this promise, and I won't have it." He stood, and walked around the desk to stand in front of you. "You need more discipline."

"You think scolding me is going to make work harder?" I mean it might, depending on the type of punishment. "Maybe I want red marks." You wanted them more on your body than your report card though.

He was unamused at your response. "I've trained plenty of other litters, my methods have yet to fail. I've dealt with your type too. So, what is this new issue of yours that has you so distracted in class?" He took a step closer, leaving him right in front of you, "Or should I guess."

“Well... It’s just hard for me to focus on chemical reactions when my body always has such a strong reaction to you. It’s easy for my mind to wander to more reactive activities.”

A smirk crossed his lips, as he leaned in, “Like my tongue inside you?”

You shivered from his warm breath on your ear. You felt your lower regions pulse, thoughts of your little fantasy popping up in your mind. You needed a moment to regain your composure. “Tongue just happened to work with the element, I’m not opposed to any other part of you being in me either~”

“Quite a bold little puppy you are.” Crewel took a step back looking you over. “Since that's the issue let's try and see if you can focus on one of those activities,” He pointed the baton at his desk, “Sit.” You eagerly obey, taking a seat on the side edge of his desk.

He took off his coat and placed it on the coat stand before moving back to his desk. “If you still can't focus, or misbehave then this stops." He started sifting through the bottom left drawer. “Hold this.” He shut the drawer and stood holding a wrapped condom to your lips. You softly took the corner of the package in your mouth. “Don’t drop it.”

The order was a bit harder to follow than you thought as he almost teasingly slowly removed his tie and undid a few buttons on his shirt. He ran a hand through his hair before undoing his pants and pulling out his dick. You would have licked your lips if you could.

“You look hungry pet.” You spread your legs as his gloved hand ran up your thigh. He stepped closer, slowly grinding his erection against your wet panties. You let out a needy whine shifting your hips as a way to encourage him. Your core tightened just from the grinding, it just made you want him more. “You’re so excited, aren’t you? I wonder, how often have you masturbated to the idea of me fucking you in this classroom?”

You gave him a lustful look as he finally took the condom from your mouth. “Enough to have some expectations” You gave a coy smile but he simply responded with a smirk.

“I doubt those will hold up to the real thing.” Once the condom was on his hands trailed up your thighs. Your breathing grew heavy with lust at his teasing touch. The way he took his time was driving you crazy.

You narrowed your eyes at him, wanting to scold him to hurry it up, but he simply stared back a small upward curve at the corner of his mouth. His threat of stopping if you misbehaved floating through your head. There was no way you were going to risk this ending not when you were so close. His fingers finally caught the edges of your panties and pulled them off, a strand of your juices dragging out.

Crewel licked his lips, finally grabbing your hips and tugging you against him. “Let’s see if you meet my expectations.” He rubbed against you a few times before slowly pushing in, leaving you time to adjust. He wasn’t sure how experienced you were and didn’t want to push you too much. While the feeling was tight, and a bit painful with how active your insides had been it wasn’t too bad to adjust to. “Ah~ Y-you’re finally inside, Professor Crewel!" You gasped between your shaky moans. A smile formed on your face from looking down at how he stretched you. There was still so much left to fill you with and you couldn't wait.

His hand gripped your chin to look back up at him. "Wrong. It's Master or Master Crewel now. Do you understand pet?"

"Yes Master Crewel." It was easy enough to remember the name as you referred to him as such in most of your fantasies anyway.

His hand slid up your cheek to push some of your hair away from your face, "Good girl. I won't hesitate to drill the idea into you if you forget."

Now that you had had time to adjust and names were sorted, it was time to set things in motion. His thrusts were smooth and slow at first. Even with such little stimulation, your walls were pulsing around him, squeezing as if trying to pull him deeper. It made him want to go wild, but he of course had control and would wait patiently until you let him do so.

Your head tilted back, calling out his name. "Good pet. Just like that. I can tell you're enjoying yourself." He smirks, "Is it all your imagined? Or did you want it rougher?" He'd be happy to oblige his student's needs since they waited so long. It would be easier for them to focus if he fulfilled the fantasy correctly.

"More." Your voice was merely a whisper at first, rising as you knew mewling wasn't a satisfying answer for him. "I want to take all of you. I want you to move faster. Please, Master! Fuck me! I can take it, I need your cock!" You begged, feeling needy. You had let your thoughts of him been wandering for too long to not indulge yourself. You wanted him to fuck you so that you never needed another fantasy of him, just memories of this moment.

"Such a needy pet." His hips stilled, "Lay down." His hand rested on your back to ease you into laying down across the length of his desk. He pushed your legs up and open. One of his hand resting on one of your knees, the other on the table so he could lean over you, "Let's test how much you can take."

With this new positioning, he had more leverage, and now that he wasn't holding himself back as much anymore it was almost a whole different experience from when he first ented you. His whole cock was sliding in and out of you.

His thrusts are almost wild, nothing like the slow pace he had kept before. If he hadn't laid you back beforehand you would have fallen back on your own. His entire cock being pushed inside you now, it filled you up so nicely. With these deeper thrusts, his shaft brushed against your sweet spot from time to time. Your body clenched tightly around him each time, never wanting him to pull out yet wanting him to thrust even faster and deeper. He carefully watched your expressions as the pleasure overcame you. The way your eyes became hazy and that small smile as you gasped and groaned. Some words slipping out occasionally, mostly master, yes, and more.

"Such a good pet. You're already surpassing my expectations." Divus cooed, "Is this everything you thought about?"

"Y-yes!" You cried out between gasps. "It feels so good. So much better than a fantasy."

"Good. Then there is no reason to keep daydreaming in class then."

"Yes. No... I-" You couldn't focus on his questions right now, or what the right answer was. You just wanted to cum and enjoy the feeling of him thrusting into you. "I'm going to cum. Master please~"

You suddenly felt a sharp sting on your thigh as his gloved hand slapped your skin. "Answer me first pet. Are you going to focus in class?" His thrusts slowed to your dismay.

"Yes! I'll focus in class! I'll raise my grade I promise!" You called out a bit panicked and desperate for him to continue.

Divus chuckled a bit, enjoying your desperation. "I'm expecting good results then." His hips regained their rapid pace from before, "Now you can cum, pet." Now given permission and his thorough pace returned it didn't take long for your body to reach its peak and your orgasm to course through you. The way your body clenched and spasmed around him had him cumming soon after you. He rode out the pleasure high before finally stopping his thrusts and pulling out of you.

A pout accompanied by a small whine formed at the loss of his cock so soon, but you couldn't stay upset. He just looked way too sexy running his hand through his hair, leaning over you catching his breath. Divus gave a small smile as his eyes caught yours. "Good girl. You performed well."

He helped you to sit up on his desk then discarded the condom and began fixing his pants. "If you do well on the next test, I'll reward you just like this." Once he was situated, he let you rest your head against his chest while he fixed up your uniform. "If not then I'll have to find other ways to get you to behave."

You knew it was meant as a warning but it just excited you. "Yes, Master Crewel. I'll do my best."

481 notes · View notes

poptod · 3 years

Note

hey there ☺ do you think you can write a soulmate au with ahk where you hear each other's thoughts? and ahk thought he didn't have one all these years only to hear you while he's at the museum and then you try to find each other?

notes: wonderful idea. also i noticed my method of doing requests is do it almost immediately after i get it or wait four months before i get it done so sorry about that, but i hope you enjoy this!

WC: 1.5k +

There are many versions of yourself, all talking over one another in an attempt to control your mind for once. Sometimes it's hard to decipher if your actions are the result of someone in your head tugging you in a different direction. There is the person you believe yourself to be––what you imagine you come off to people as. There is also the person you truly are, and what people actually perceive you to be. So despite there being several voices, they are all reiterations of yourself in some way.

Except for one.

One of them speaks in a voice that is not your own, in a voice you've never heard anywhere but echoing in your skull. Since you despised asking questions as a child, it took you until you were twelve to realize that no, you weren't insane. It was someone who would love you, who had the potential to grow close to you simply by the strings of fate. Your soulmate.

Someone who gave you nightmares for years.

'Get me out of here!' He would scream, sending your heart pounding while you tried to sleep as a child. 'Please, please, I need to see the stars,' he sobbed, 'I did nothing to deserve this!'

Once you grew old enough to deal with the screaming beyond what you thought was a schizophrenia disorder, nighttime brought a deep sadness to you. For some reason, your soulmate would never think during the day––which was incredibly odd––and during the night, the only time he was awake, he would scream and beg and cry until you could feel the hoarseness in your own throat. For your entire childhood, you stared up at your ceiling at night, eyes burning as you tried to calm the screaming.

It was all you could think about, as though the screams had muted your connection to him and strengthened his connection to you. Every now and then you would try to think, try to calm him down, but he never quite heard.

Then, one evening in winter, it stopped.

You were lying in bed, rolled onto your side as you once again listened to the man's yelling thoughts. But then he stopped, and both your hearts skipped a beat, followed by an incredibly clear thought: Thank the Gods, blessed Ra and Khonsu.

That evening you darted out of bed, jumping to your desk where you typed in with slamming, lightning-fast fingers, "khonsu." Ra you already knew––everyone knew Ra, and by connection Khonsu would probably also be a God. The only question you were left with was why you were hearing the thoughts of someone who worshipped Egyptian gods two thousand years after that civilization died.

As you continued your research, his thoughts continued.

They took my tablet?

Who are these people?

This man has no idea what he's doing, does he?

Why is he screaming at the Hun?

He's got my tablet.

About halfway into the night you gave up on your research, instead listening intently to the thoughts. With you entirely absorbed in your soulmates thoughts, you had little room to send your own words to him, which unbeknownst to you, would've reached him if you tried.

You weren't quite sure what to think of him for the following couple weeks. At first your assumption was that he was the insane one projecting his insane thoughts to you, but his quieter thoughts led you to believe there was something different in him. It is true what they say––geniuses are often tortured minds, and though you wouldn't classify your soulmate as a genius, he was clearly a knowledgeable philosopher of sorts.

He thought often of the human condition––the rise and fall of civilizations, the cruelty and the mercy of men that began the stories of bloodstained battlefields. Most of the time you just listened. Now that he wasn't screaming, his voice was soft and more of a comfort than you ever thought it would be.

Sometimes he got very sad. After a while you learned to not question the logic of his thoughts. Instead, you simply tried to understand what he meant, accepting him for where he was in his life.

I miss my brother.

I wonder what happened to my best friend.

I didn't think I would ever be this far from the Nile and the sun.

I abandoned my people, didn't I?

If only I could find where my sister was buried. Would that even make me feel better, though? What closure will I gain from seeing her tomb?

... if she even had one.

There's a melody going on in his head, right now. Something that could put you to sleep if you weren't currently working. It's nothing you've heard before, that you're certain of, and judging by the tone of it and your soulmate's previous thoughts, it sounds Egyptian.

Despite the museum being closed, most of the lights are still on. One of the night guards had a very strange insistence about it, but wouldn't tell you why. Oh well––questioning people is above your paygrade, since you aren't getting paid for this. It is volunteer work. Not that you mind; ever since realizing the voice in your head was Egyptian, you've gotten a palate for history. Currently, however, you're dealing less with history and more with files. The curator at this museum asked you to sort through the records of all the different exhibits that are here, or were once here at some point, which made a very large collection. Massive, actually––you're only sorting through A, and it's going to take you a couple weeks.

He's humming softly to himself. The tune carries into your work, and you allow yourself to enjoy his voice as you sort, going over every record to look for exhibits no longer displayed. For this you have a chart in your other hand––a log of all the exhibits currently public in the museum.

Although you're supposed to be concentrated on your sorting, you find yourself more entranced with the melody in your head, and the clearest thought that rings in your mind is, 'that is beautiful.'

The humming stops. Dead in its' tracks, about to reach its' peak, and it stops.

'My mother sang it to me,' he says, 'before I slept as a child.'

"Holy shit, are you talking to me?" You say out loud with bulging eyes before you can stop yourself. The moment you realize what you said, a bright blush coats your cheeks and you slap your hand over your mouth. But he doesn't seem to mind––actually, he laughs, and it's sweeter than summer sugar.

'You must be my heart,' he says in an astounded tone, and you can practically see his dream-filled eyes. You sit puzzled for a second before replying.

"Do you mean your soulmate?"

'Well... I suppose yes, that could be one of the names,' he says, and it only adds more onto the lists of questions you have for him.

"What is your name?" You ask first, hardly realizing you're still talking aloud to yourself.

'My name is Ahkmenrah," he tells you, and it takes less than a millisecond before the dots connect in your head. Instantly your eyes dart to the sheet in your hand, and near the top of the list, there it sits––Ahkmenrah.

'I know this must be confusing for you,' he continues, 'but I am from another time. While I lived then, I dreaded that I didn't have a heart, as I heard no voice. That fear has carried on into my next life, but now that you're here –'

"Oh I'm here alright," you say, unbelieving of both your circumstances and your unblinking acceptance at them. "I'm, like, two floors below you."

"WHAT?!"

A voice from above catches you, but as the same word rings in your mind, you realize with great glee that he instinctively yelled 'what' without thinking. You laugh, and the thought of your laughter reaches him.

Less than a minute later you can hear footsteps pounding down the stairs, landing at the closed door before the handle wrenches open. You quickly move to your feet, facing the man whose voice you know so well, who haunted your childhood and enchanted your adulthood. You can barely hide the grin that spreads across your face––whatever magic has brought you to this moment, you thank everything you can for it, your attention ensnared by the soft features of a 4,000 year old Pharaoh.

He pauses once he enters the archive, eyes finding yours immediately. His mouth hangs open slightly as he scans you, absorbs every feature on your body and face, and barely moves even to breathe for a good minute or two.

"I – I'm sorry, I j – I just realized I didn't ask your name," he says quietly, a small, ginger smile growing on his lips.

"(Y/N)," you say, but you don't quite know how your brain worked to make the word. You certainly didn't consciously choose to speak.

"I have waited thousands of years for you," he says, impossibly softer as he steps forward. He's really quite harmless, you realize––for all the fear you had of him as a child, he's nothing but a sweet-faced boy.

"Was it worth it?" You ask, and your voice cracks ever so slightly.

"My heart," he breathes out, affection lacing his name for you, "it was worth every second."

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek

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perfectpaperbluebirds · 3 years

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Prompt # 19: Addiction

@sicktember Alternate prompt #4: Stay

Title: Unexpected Developments Part 2

Fandom: Pride and Prejudice

Find Part 1 under prompt # 8. Mr. Darcy is sick in bed and miserable. Elizabeth is trying to look after him, but his bad mood gets the better of him and tempers flare. Will sweetness or stubbornness win out in the end?

Elizabeth Bennett was the only guest at Netherfield who wasn't in bed with a cold. The virus Jane had caught riding to attend luncheon with Caroline had spread around the whole house, but it seemed Eliza was immune. Mr. Darcy had been the last to fall ill, and Lizzie had discovered him sneezing in a corner over a day ago while she remained perfectly healthy. It was fortunate she had discovered him though, for the servants were rushing hither and yon at the beck and call of their ill master and his sister, and poor Mr. Darcy would have been overlooked completely if Lizzie hadn't taken him under her care.

Lizzie, for her part, was glad Jane's cold was much improved from the days prior. Since Jane needed little tending now, she had given Lizzie her blessing to give most of her attention to Mr. Darcy. Mr. Darcy, for his part, was very accustomed to having a houseful of servants to do his bidding, and was little accustomed to being ill, strong and virile as he was. Because of these things, he was not the easiest patient, though he truly tried to make an effort to curb his frustration and not take his misery out on Elizabeth. Her lack of symptoms clearly perturbed him, however.

"How is it you are still in perfect health while I and everyone else are laid up with this beastly chest cold?" he griped that afternoon while Lizzie fussed around, tidying up dishes and rags from his bedside. If Lizzie wasn't accustomed to his voice by now, she would have had trouble understanding him, for his nose was stopped tight with congestion, and his voice raw and weak from coughing, rendering him nigh unintelligible.

She giggled to herself. "Well you see, I believe I've already had this cold, for in the week prior to Jane's arrival here, my father, some of my other sisters and myself caught cold. We were envious of Jane's good luck in not falling ill at the time, but it seems it caught up with her in the end."

"Indeed," Mr. Darcy muttered sourly with a slushy sniffle.

"Oh don't be cross. It isn't so terrible lounging in bed all day, being waited on hand and foot is it?"

"Yet when I find myself miserable in body, I find my mood tends to follow," he groused.

"Hmm." Elizabeth moved to his side, caressing his flushed face gently with the pad of her thumb. "It's just as I thought. You're only irritable like this when your fever is up, and indeed you are overwarm again. Jane's fever wasn't nearly so persistent."

"How fortunate for me," he mumbled to himself. Elizabeth tried to ignore his bad temper as she fetched her basin and rag. She wasn't fond of sarcasm, and his attitude was irking her more than she cared to let on. Tenderly as ever though, she began bathing his face and neck to try to bring down his miserable fever.

The cold water on his face made him gasp slightly, which became a cough, and the coughing only seemed to agitate him more. He usually enjoyed his face being bathed, but today he drew away from the rag.

“Perhaps we should try another method for treating fever, since this does not seem to be effective,” said the sick man. His speech was curt and tense with foul temper.

Elizabeth gave him a long look, trying to keep her own temper under control. “What would you suggest, sir? We have tried willow bark, which made you feel more ill, and you will not have any other poultices,” she said in a measured, warning way.

“There must be something we haven't done yet. I would do anything to rid myself of this beastly cold, that came from *your* sister, I might add! You just said you already had this cold. Think of something else to try!”

Elizabeth flew to her feet, tossing down the rag. “Perhaps you should go plunge yourself into an ice bath! That will surely help the fever, and I’m sure it will do wonders for your coughing and sneezing as well! But you can draw it yourself, and you can see to your own meals and entertainment too. You clearly feel my efforts are inadequate, so you can tend to yourself from now on. I am through with smoothing your insufferable pride and being a target for your bad mood. Good day, sir!”

With a whirl of skirts, she was out the door without a glance behind her. Elizabeth went straight to her room and lay down in the cool and quiet, for she was exhausted and careworn from nursing for a week straight. She fell asleep immediately and didn’t wake for several hours.

She felt much refreshed when she did finally emerge. She first went to look in on Jane, who was overall back to normal, but was getting bored sitting around and eager to go home. On questioning the staff, they learned that Caroline had mostly recovered as well. Mr. Bingley was recovering slower, but getting better all the time. The sisters wished him a speedy recovery by way of the servants, for as soon as he was recovered, they would be able to return home.

After visiting with Jane for some time, Elizabeth desired to find a quiet corner and read. To her chagrin, she realized she had left her book in Mr. Darcy’s room. She did not relish seeing him again so soon after they parted so badly, but she had no choice if she wanted her book back. With a sigh, she made her way to his room with hesitant steps. She knocked softly before entering, which felt odd since she had been coming and going freely for two days prior. His hoarse, weak voice bid her come in.

He was in quite a different state than he had been a few hours before. Where he had previously been fitful and agitated, now he seemed weak and lethargic. Even in the dim light she could see how sweat-matted his hair was, and the dark ring on his pillow. He lifted his head up to see who had entered, and his sleepy eyes flickered with confusion upon seeing her.

“I only came to get my book. I apologize for disturbing you,” she said stiffly, hardly looking at him. She snatched up the volume from the table where it lay and turned to go back out, intending to say nothing else.

“Wait.”

She paused, and turned slightly, her good breeding winning over. “Yes?”

He sat up a bit straighter, coughing weakly as he did so. “I am deeply sorry for how I behaved earlier. My treatment of you was inexcusable after all you’ve done for me these past days--” Here he had to pause to press his handkerchief to his dripping nose before he could continue. Elizabeth waited silently. “I was a beast and feel very much like a fool. Please forgive me,” he managed, mumbling through the damp fabric. His eyes shone earnestly above the hand holding the linen in place.

Her face softened. “I accept your apology, and thank you for it. No one acts quite themself when they’re ill, so I gladly forgive you. I’m sorry too for my part in all of it.”

They shared a tiny smile as he tended to his nose with a thick, gurgling blow, and she knew she was forgiven also. Immediately the tension between them was cleared.

Now that they had made up though, she was reluctant to leave him alone again, for he looked so weak and forlorn and in need of care. However, she was a woman of her word. She spoke as she moved to the door, putting her hand on the knob. “You must rest, Mr. Darcy, so I'll leave you be. I truly apologize for waking you.”

“Miss Elizabeth?”

Once more she turned to meet his eyes.

He held out a shaking hand. “Please… stay.”

She slowly returned to his side. “For what purpose, sir?”

“I… I desire your company… and your aid. You are… a far better caregiver than I, and I was a fool to imply otherwise. It… it won't happen again,” he croaked thickly.

Seeing the effort he was making to be overly polite softened Eliza's heart further. She let him take her hand in his warm grasp, a smile playing around her lips. “If you insist. I will stay.”

He smiled also as he drew her hand toward himself. "Here, let me show you something," he snuffled. He placed her wrist against his neck, just as she had done many times over the past few days. He sighed softly as their skin made contact.

“Your fever has broken,” she murmured happily. “You are cool at last.”

“Yes.”

“How did you do it?” she asked, withdrawing her hand. “Did you plunge yourself into an ice bath after all?”

He stifled a cough before he could speak. “I… tried willow bark again, as you recommended. I felt worse… at first, but I fell asleep to ease the symptoms. When I woke, the fever had left me, and I felt… much clearer in mind. The fever was causing my foul mood, as you insightfully noted.” Yet another long speech, and now his voice was barely audible as he sniffled furiously and trembled with fatigue.

“Yet you seem somewhat worse for wear, for you’re completely exhausted, poor man.”

“This illness has left me weary to my bones, it is true. Yet I could not have slept soundly tonight knowing I had offended you. It would be an understatement to say I was very glad when you returned, though I did not expect or deserve a second chance.” His eyes were getting heavier by the moment, and he yawned almost before he finished speaking, reclining back against his pillows once more.

Elizabeth brushed the sweaty curls from his forehead as his eyes drifted closed, then let her hand rest on his cheek for a moment, reassuring herself that his fever was truly gone. He lazily covered her hand with his, a content smile flickering across his face.

She couldn’t help but smile in response, though he couldn’t see it. “Take some rest, Mr. Darcy. All is forgiven, and I will be here when you wake.” She gently tried to pull her hand away from his face. He quickly interlaced his fingers with hers to prevent this.

“You’ll truly stay?” he murmured sleepily, sniffling.

Leaving her hand on his cheek, she perched on the edge of his bed, so close their hips were almost touching. She saw him smile again as she did so.

“Of course I will,” she murmured back, her eyes never leaving his face as he peacefully drifted to sleep.

#sickfic #sicktember2021 #alt prompt 4 #everyone is hotter with a fever

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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years

Text

The Regular (part 3): Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: for Geto, there’s no one but you. And he wants that to be the same for you, too. Why would you even want anyone else?

wc: 2.4K

tw: nsfw, nsfw, nsfw, please for the love of god dni if you’re minor. smut and more smut follows

a/n: There will be one last part for. wrap-up, but I literally have not written a single thing since before yesterday, so I’m writing today! Hope you all enjoy!

part 1 part 1.5 part 2

Your finger fidgeted with the edge of your skirt as you sat in Mrs. Lampton’s office, waiting for her freckled face to appear in your line of vision. The office is a direct reflection of who Mrs. Lampton is: dimly lit with orange lighting and vintage movie posters hang on the right side of the wall above a mini zen garden; on the left side, there are various pictures of her as a dancer, the newspaper headline announcing that she had bought the club, and then a picture that featured her and all of the dancers from years ago. On her desk, the club manager had collected various crystals, each one a different color than the rest, and finally, on the wall behind her desk, a sign that read “Complaints will be heard from the hours of 6 am to 3 pm”, which, coincidentally, were hours when the club wasn’t open.

She had called you in early to discuss something with you, but hadn’t shown her face at all since you walked in and plopped down on the cheap, orange vinyl seat. A moment later, the door to the office creaks open and Mrs. Lampton shuffles in, pushing her short red bangs away from her face. “Hey, y/n, thanks for coming in early for me. Just wanted to speak to you face to face before tonight.” She sounded exhausted, as if she had been dealing with other problems before she got to you.

“Am I in trouble?” you ask, lacing your fingers together nervously.

“Huh?” The woman looks over at you as she slides the chair out from behind her desk. She shrugs her denim jacket off, revealing the multi colored striped shirt beneath paired with light wash mom jeans. “Why would you think you’re in trouble? Have you done anything to be in trouble for?” She leans forward, placing her pale elbows on the desk and looking into your eyes.

“No, I--”

“Good. You’ve made yourself practically invaluable here and I wanted to make sure everything was going okay with you and Mr. Geto.” You think about the morning you spent with Suguru and the subsequent night you danced for him in the VIP room, which ended up being a makeout session towards the end.

“E-everything’s fine.”

“He’s treating you fairly?”

“Yes.”

“Not getting too ahead of himself is he?”

“Ahead of himself?”

“You know, trying to play savior or--”

“No, not at all.” In fact, he had insisted that you go back to the club that night and dance, even if it meant it was just you and him. He knew you liked the club; he was just there to make your experience happier.

“Great! Oh, also --” A drawer opens and Mrs. Lampton rummages around in it for a moment before pulling out a magazine. “Thought you would like to see this.” She slaps it down on the desk before turning to her computer and clicking around on it while you pick up the magazine. And there Suguru was, on page twenty-six, strolling alongside his blue-eyed friend - what was his name? Godo? Todo? Gego? Oh, Gogo. Right.

The headline reads: “Their Companies are Merging, but They’re Total Opposites”. Suguru is dressed for a business meeting in a pair of black slacks and black shirt, complimented by a silver tie. Gogo, on the other hand, is wearing a grey turtleneck sweater and black skinny jeans, also in mid-conversation about something. The caption reads: Geto Suguru and Gojo Satoru have a lot in common: they’re handsome, inherited their wealth, and are very eligible bachelors. But what you don’t know is that they couldn’t be more -

“Why are you showing me this?” The magazine plops down on the desk again and Mrs. Lampton looks over from her screen.

“You need to know exactly who you’re entertaining. Geto’s family owns an international medical equipment giant, and his friend is literally the heir to the technology company Gautama.”

You bite your lip at this news, suddenly remembering the magnitude of the situation at hand. Again, Suguru wasn’t just rich, and people didn’t just get into his personal business because he was handsome. One day, he would be the heir to a massive fortune and a company that relied on the public’s approval to maintain its efficacy. One wrong move, and Suguru could lose it all. You need to handle this predicament with care, not with some kind of illusionary idea that he could be--

“I see. Thank you, Mrs. Lampton.” The club manager shifts in her seat, giving you a tender smile before sliding an envelope your way.

“And this came for you yesterday after you left.” Curious, you open the envelope, and look back up at Mrs. Lampton warily. “Do with it what you will.”

“I can’t accept this; this is-”

“Not my problem anymore. I’ll see you later, y/n.”

_______________________________________________________________________

“I can’t accept this.” You hand the envelope and it’s contents back to Suguru, and he frowns deeply, hand slowly reaching out to take the paper.

“What’s this?” He opens the envelope and takes out the check nestled inside, examining it carefully. “Oh, no.”

“I can’t accept money from your friend.”

“No, this isn’t right. Satoru would never…” Suguru shifts forward, trying to examine the check under the dim lighting of the room. “He would never do something like this. He’s an idiot, but he’s not a dumbass.”

“Why would he send me a check for twenty thousand dollars?”

“He wouldn’t.” Suguru folds the envelope in half, placing it in his pocket with finality. “I’ll deal with this, princess, don’t worry.” He places a tender kiss to your forehead, peppering your face with pecks until his lips reach yours. You moan into his mouth and slide your hands up to his, which are holding your face, and open your mouth to deepen the kiss automatically. Your tongues tangle between each other, dancing in the space made by your interlocked lips. When Suguru pulls away, you groan, leaning your head back with displeasure.

“I want you tonight,” you whisper, and Suguru laughs, nipping at your lower lip.

“You needn’t say another word.”

_______________________________________________________________________

A long-sleeved kimono.

A pair of men’s pants.

A silk camisole and matching shorts.

A grey shirt.

All of them have been scattered across the room leading up to the four poster bed you’ve been politely deposited on. And the man between your legs is starving.

He’s putting his hair up in a bun with a hair band, shirtless, while his muscles move methodically. And you’re lying before him, a spread of deliciousness waiting to be devoured by someone who has been deprived of your taste for too long.

Once Suguru’s hair is no longer an issue, he slides his fingers between your legs, catching the slim digits on your core. You suck in a sharp breath as he begins rubbing your clit, relishing in the gentle touches he lavishes upon you. “Talk to me.”

“That feels good,” you immediately respond to his command, fluttering your eyes closed. Suguru hums, the answer satisfying him enough that he slips a finger inside of you. You arch your back, pushing your cunt into his palm eagerly and mewling just a little.

“That’s it…” His free hand comes up to snake around the back of your neck and his lips come down to latch onto your right nipple. The hand on your neck slides down to tweak your other nipple as he pulls and sucks with his mouth eagerly, and you buck into his hand again as he tucks another finger inside of you, fully tethering you to his movements.

“S-Suguru,” you breathe, and his eyes lift to meet yours, focusing on your blissed-out expression. The wine you tossed back before you both began your little tryst wasn’t doing you any favors, and your head swam at the lust-filled expression Suguru wore. Your nipple pops free from his lips and he blinks slowly, tilting his head like he always does when he’s about to ask you a question.

“Has anyone else made you feel like this?” he wonders above you, and you look up to him, eyes half-lidded.

“No.”

“Can anyone else make you feel like this?”

“No… no one else can.” Your response to his stance of absolute ownership obviously pleases him as he snakes kisses down your stomach and flicks your clit with his tongue, fingers still nestled deep inside of you. “Su!” Instinctively you grab his hair, lacing your fingers through the strands as you push his face closer to your core. Suguru grains with pleasure, removing his fingers and diving head first into you without another word; his slick-covered hand pushes your right leg up, and the other hand rests on your hip lazily.

But his tongue is anything but lazy as he eagerly attacks your slit, reminding you just how hungry he really is. When his other hand moves off of your hip and to the outline of his cock in his boxers, you want to help him palm his erection, wind your fingers around his length and tug, but you’re too far away. The solution comes moments later.

“Su,” you begin, huffing as he continues to eat you out, but looks up to meet your eyes. “I want… I want to sit on your face.” His eyebrows shoot up at the request, and the black haired man pulls away from your core and kisses up your right leg before sitting up on his knees.

“Then switch with me.”

The command is yet again met with no resistance, and once Suguru settles in on his back, you carefully swing your leg over his shoulders, lowering yourself onto his face. Large hands rest on your ass cheeks as he resumes his feast, and your tiny hands find his cock, snaking beneath the waistband of his boxers with ease.

When you first touch his member, he jolts a little then moans directly into your pussy. You never really noticed just how thick he was until that moment, sliding the offending fabric down until his cock is right in front of your face. You stroke it - fingers not even close to meeting around his thickness - and lick the tip with care then lower your whole mouth down his length.

“Oh, my god,” Suguru moans, the sound muffled by your thighs so it sounds more like a breathy “uhhmahgah” than anything else. You begin to bob your head and build a rhythm to your sucking, rarely stopping for air. You know you’re doing a good job when Suguru’s fingers on your ass tighten and his tongue stutters as you slowly build his orgasm. In the dim lighting of your usual, beautiful hotel room, you hope that no one can see you or Suguru pleasuring each other with abandon. That would make a very interesting headline.

“Ah!” Suguru flips you over with a push which lands you on your back, head facing the footboard. He climbs over top of you, eyes still focused on your face, and lifts your legs back up, pushing your knees to your chest.

“You were doing your job a little too well down there,” he hisses, lining himself up with your dripping core. You laugh for a second before he anchors himself with the backs of your knees and slowly sinks into you, hissing as he sheaths himself completely within your walls. Missionary… he loves it, and you do too, especially when he leans forward and presses his chest against your weak thighs. He can watch your face as he moves within you, and it’s the very fact that he’s the cause of your immense pleasure that spurs him on to a mind-bending orgasm. But you want something different… something new.

“Wait,” you breathe, and Suguru looks up at you with curiosity. “We should… try something new.” Your mind flips through the endless pages of the Cosmopolitan rags in the dressing room, and you settle on something you’d seen just before your second day at the club. You lift one leg up precariously, and Suguru instantly catches on to your imagined position, turning you on your side. While snatching a pillow from behind him, he tucks your lifted leg over his shoulder and places the pillow under your back, where it supports you from falling over.

“Fuck yes, that’s amazing,” you whine. He slides back into you with ease, holding your leg as he fucks you senseless.

“Oh, yeah…” His groans mixed with your mewls of ecstasy fill the room, making a sweet symphony of noise for the neighbors (or someone above you) to hear. Skin slapping, grunts, rough touches and tender caresses - everything you’ve grown to anticipate and desire from this man who has absolutely bewitched and been bewitched by you - are present right now. Nothing could take you out of this dream turned reality. “Y/n… this is heaven.”

The admission from the man is accompanied by a stare that reaches down to your soul, and your hand flies to your clit. You want to make yourself cum and fast. He’s saying all the right things… doing all of the right moves, and you --

“I can’t let anyone else have you.”

“Su--” you choke out, hoping that he would hear your pleas beyond his pleasure. “Su, I--”

“Don’t need… t’say... a word,” he grunts. “I already... know.” He gets faster and deeper, stretching you past what you thought you could take and bringing you even closer to orgasm than you thought possible. “Just cum... Cum for me... That’s all I want.”

Your fingers are working just like Suguru is, not pausing for even a second to give you any sense of reprieve. He litters kisses along your ankle and down your calf, all the while fucking your brains out. His hands knock your fingers away and do what only he can do, rubbing your clit better and faster than you can.

“Please… cum for me, princess.” Hot air drags into your throat and you exhale in what sounds like a dying woman’s groan, clutching at the sheets with all of your strength. Your walls spasm around his cock, and a wetness drenches your lower legs, sliding down onto the red fabric beneath you.

“You’re so perfect,” Suguru whispers, closing his eyes. “You’re such a good girl… cumming all over me like that; god, I’m gonna--” His breath hitches in his throat as he unloads in you, his cock throbbing angrily as it deposits loads of cum inside of you. He shudders long and hard, practically hunched over your figure while you recover, panting deeply.

A haze settles nicely over you while Suguru adjusts himself carefully and softly smooths a hand over your sweaty face.

“Do you want to go again or should we call for new sheets?”

“Again,” you answer definitively, and he smiles down at you before pressing a kiss to your cheek and murmuring,

“I love it when you say that.”

#geto x reader #jjk geto #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen getou #getou x reader #getou suguru #getou smut #jjk smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #yes #gojo is being messy #but you'll see why at the end #i swear i won't leave y'all hanging #im doing too much #doing too much

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thefinalcinderella · 3 years

Text

Kaze ga Tsuyoku Fuiteiru Chapter 10 - Shooting Star (Part 1)

We finally made it...we’re in the endgame now...

Full list of translations here

Translation Notes

1. My Grandfather’s Clock is a popular song written by Henry Clay Work in 1876. The 2002 version by Ken Hirai was especially popular in Japan

Previous | Next

January 3rd, 5 a.m.

Yuki was in a dimly lit room in the Ashihara Ryokan. He changed into his Kansei University uniform and jersey and picked up his bench coat.

Two hours had already passed since Yuki woke up. After breakfast and a bath courtesy of the ryokan that took place at a time that could be better called late night, Yuki returned to the room where he had spent the night once the food in his stomach digested properly.

It was a night where he wasn’t sure if he had slept or not. However, his mind was clear and lucid. Excitement and tension became sharp blades that pared his body, and he felt somewhat light.

My energy is high, Yuki thought. He had felt the same way when he passed the bar exam. He read the questions for the essay exam and wrote his answer. It was almost funny how the meaning of the questions soaked into his brain, and before he could even think about how to answer them, the answer sheet was filled with words; it was just like automatic writing. He had never been able to output so smoothly what had been inputted into him until that moment, as though his consciousness had become clear and his sixth sense was working.

He knew that the same moment of elation and focus was about to visit his body and mind.

The return leg of the Hakone Ekiden started at 8 a.m. Yuki would slowly warm up over the next three hours, in order to build up his energy levels. It was Yuki’s method to relax and relieve his nervousness for two hours, and then concentrate on warming up for the remaining hour. Ever since the time when he was confronting his bar exam, Yuki preferred to increase the intensity of his concentration at this pace.

The six-mat guest room was completely occupied by the three futons laid out on the floor. Shindou, wearing his mask, was breathing faintly in his sleep. Yuki gently put his hand on his forehead and found it was still a little hot. The landlord was grinding his teeth as he slept soundly.

Yuki lightly folded his futon and put it in a corner so as to not wake them. Standing by the window, he quietly pulled back the curtains: the cozy garden of the ryokan was covered with a light dusting of snow, and ashy snowflakes continued to fall from the dark sky.

Yuki had never been skiing before. He didn’t understand going to the trouble of sticking boards to your feet in a cold place in a cold season. He thought it would be better to spend that time on one’s studies, and more than that, living with a single mother, they had no money to spend on fun.

Can I run down a steep, snow-covered slope? I can’t say I don’t want to run in the sixth leg at this point. Should I have at least experienced skiing if it’s like this?

The window was immediately fogged up by Yuki’s breath. The room was slightly warm from Yuki, Shindou and the landlord's combined body heat.

It’s not just me, Yuki reminded himself. In the past few years, there has never been snow on the roads of Hakone at New Year’s. Most of the runners—no, maybe all of them—have never gone down the mountain roads of Hakone covered in snow. Everyone lacks experience. I can run. I can run.

Chanting that in his mind as though to convince himself, Yuki picked up Kansei’s sash from the alcove. It seemed to still be damp from absorbing the sweat of the five people who had run in the outbound leg.

After carefully folding the sash and putting it in his jersey pocket, Yuki quietly left the guest room.

He walked through the corridor to the front door and saw the ryokan’s proprietress holding a newspaper.

“Oh, you’ve already changed?”

“Yes. I’ll be warming up from now on.”

“Outside?” Looking at the still-dark front of the building, the proprietress furrowed her brow in concern. “It’s minus five degrees right now.”

Yuki had planned to go outside, but he quickly changed his mind. He would have to wait until the temperature rose a little, or his muscles would stiffen up from the cold.

“May I borrow this space?”

He pointed at the empty lobby, and the proprietress graciously said, “By all means.

“Do you want to read the paper? I asked them to deliver it earlier today.”

While reading the newspaper, Yuki sat down on the floor of the lobby and began to stretch. He exhaled and began to relax his muscles and joints.

The paper had a big spread on the outbound leg of the Hakone Ekiden. Bousou University won the outbound leg by a narrow margin. It was a close race where it was impossible to tell if Rikudou University would make a comeback in the return leg, or which school would take the overall victory.

There was also a mention of Kansei under the headline “A Challenge with Only Ten People”. There was a photo of Shindou, unsteady and desperately trying to run on the mountain roads. Yuki opened his legs and brought his upper body down while reading the article.

“With only ten members, Kansei University unexpectedly put on the brakes in the fifth leg. They dropped down drastically in the rankings and ended the outbound leg in eighteenth place. However, with ace runners such as Kurahara, a freshman, and Kiyose, a fourth-year, in the return leg, there are still plenty of opportunities for a comeback. All eyes will be on the development of this small team’s great challenge.”

At the end of the article, there was a signature (布). It’s Nunoda-san, Yuki thought. The reporter Nunoda, who had come to Lake Shirakaba during summer vacation, had continued to keep an eye on Kansei.

There are still more than enough opportunities. We believe that, but it’s reassuring to have a third party say so as well. Yuki put the newspaper on the rack in the lobby and silently worked on stretching.

It was 6 when Shindou appeared in the lobby. He was wearing Musa’s bench coat and a mask. “Good morning,” he said in a hoarse voice, and pushed on Yuki’s back to help him stretch.

“You should be sleeping.”

“I asked Musa to give me a wake-up call because I knew you would be thoughtful like that.” Shindou sat down next to Yuki. “It’s snowing.”

“Yeah.”

The two watched the fluttering snow through the lobby window.

“How are you feeling?”

“Good. What about you?”

“I’m feeling much better.”

Yuki began doing sit-ups. Shindou lightly held his ankles still.

“To tell you the truth,” Yuki murmured, “I’m getting uncomfortably nervous. I want to run away, if I could.”

“I was the same way,” Shindou laughed under his mask. “Why don’t you try listening to some music? I took it from your luggage without asking.”

Yuki took the iPod Shindou gave him and put the earphones in his ears. He listened to his favorite songs for a while, but today, the world of sound was no comfort to Yuki.

“It’s no use.” Yuki tore out his earphones. “When I’m running, it feels like music I don’t like is playing through my head incoherently and endlessly. And it’s music that you can’t even get into! Like My Grandfather’s Clock (1) and stuff like that!”

“You hate it?”

“I don’t like irritating things.”

“I think it’s a good song, though,” Shindou said, and Yuki stood up with a “hmph.” Looking up at Yuki, who was rotating his ankles, Shindou made a suggestion.

“No matter what song plays in your head, you can always arrange it so it’s up-tempo.”

“Shindou, you’re amazing.” Yuki was deeply impressed. “I’m filled with worries. All I can think about are bad things like, what if I fall down the slope, or what if my shoelaces get torn off.”

“Yuki-senpai, you can even aim for the sectional prize.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because you’ve always accomplished what you said you would do. Whether it’s the bar exam or the Hakone Ekiden, you said you’ll do it, and you did.” Only Shindou’s eyes were smiling. “So say it this time too. That you’re aiming for the sectional prize.”

As though pushed by Shindou’s quiet force, Yuki said, “I am.”

“Yes, then it’s fine now. You will definitely run a good time.”

Yuki looked down at Shindou, who was nodding in satisfaction, and couldn’t help but laugh.

“I know how useless I was yesterday,” Yuki said. “I knew you were experiencing this pressure before the race, but I couldn’t support you like this.”

“No matter how much support I get, in the end, I’m the only one who can bounce back from the pressure.” Shindou also stood and prompted Yuki. “Let’s jog.” The two put on their shoes at the door and went outside. There was no sign of the sunrise anywhere, but birds were singing in the mountains. The fine snow felt dry against their cheeks.

“But yesterday, you stayed by my side until the very last moment before I started running, Yuki-senpai. That gave me a lot of strength.” Shindou pulled down his mask and breathed in the cold air. “That’s why, I’ll stay with you today. I’ll stay with you until you start.”

Yuki didn’t have any words to respond. He was simply happy, and watched Shindou put his mask back on.

“We’ll freeze if we stay in one spot. Let’s run.”

“By the way, how’s the landlord?”

“He said he’s going to take a morning bath.”

“He’s in a sightseeing mood, that person.”

“His nighttime teeth grinding was very loud, wasn’t it?”

They chatted about trifling things as they jogged, and Yuki and Shindou's white breaths flowed shakily along the dark, snowy lakeside path.

---

Kakeru was feeling restless.

Kiyose was acting strange. When Kakeru invited him to go jogging after breakfast, he refused, saying, “Go ahead. I’ve got a lot of calls to make.”

It’s definitely strange that Haiji-san didn’t do his morning jog. He didn’t seem to sleep well last night either. I wonder if his leg hurts.

After running around Yokohama Station for about thirty minutes, Kakeru decided to go back to the hotel. He could still warm up at the relay station. He had never cut a jog short before, no matter how sick he was, but right now he was worried about Kiyose. He wondered if he was planning on pushing himself too hard. As if spurred on by a bad premonition, Kakeru ran back to the hotel.

In the lobby of the small business hotel, Jouji was opening a sports newspaper while watching the weather forecast on TV. Noticing Kakeru running across the lobby and pushing the button for the elevator, he came up to him and said, “You’re early.

“Your jogging time was unusually short today.”

“Where’s Haiji-san?”

“I think he’s in his room. Prince-san and Hana-chan are organizing their luggage together. I was chased away. I can sense that he’s trying to keep me away from Hana-chan.” Jouji pouted in dissatisfaction, but Kakeru wasn’t listening anymore. He rode the elevator to the fifth floor. “What’s going on?” Jouji asked as he followed him.

Kansei had three rooms: Kakeru and Kiyose’s room was at the far end of the corridor, Jouji and Prince’s was next to theirs, and Hanako’s room was near the elevator.

After exiting the elevator, Kakeru passed a man in the hallway. He was in his late thirties and carrying a large black bag in his hand. Thinking that it looked like a house call bag, Kakeru turned around with a start. The doors to the elevator the man got into were just about to close.

That wasn’t a guest just now. That was a doctor. Kakeru had a hunch. He must be the doctor who came to examine Haiji-san’s leg.

“Haiji-san!”

Kiyose was sitting by the window near the two beds. He looked up in surprise at Kakeru’s menacing attitude, and Kakeru sprang at him.

“Let me see your leg, let me see it!”

Kiyose fell down onto the bed, pushed by the momentum. Kakeru didn’t care and tried to pull up the cuff of Kiyose’s track pants.

“Just calm down, Kakeru! I’ll explain!”

Jouji was standing in the doorway of their room, watching in amazement as Kakeru and Kiyose grappled with each other. Noticing the commotion, Prince and Hanako came out of the room next door.

When Hanako asked, “What’s this all about?” Jouji tilted his head to the side.

“Uh, I have no idea.”

Kiyose finally pulled Kakeru off of him and beckoned everyone in the doorway to come in. The group that had stayed in Yokohama gathered in the room and sat down on the beds and chairs of their choice.

“Haiji-san, there was a doctor in this room a while ago, wasn’t there?” Kakeru sat on the bed and questioned Kiyose.

“There was,” Kiyose admitted as though he could see that there was no way out of this. “It was the doctor who always examines me. I asked him to make a house call and he gave me some painkillers.”

“The leg you said you injured—did it not heal?” Prince asked in shock. Jouji and Hanako had never even heard that Kiyose was injured, and they looked at each other in disbelief.

“What are you going to do?” It was all Kakeru could do not to let his voice tremble.

“Of course I’m running.”

“Are you okay with being so reckless?”

“If I’m not going to be reckless now, then when?”

“If…” Kakeru hesitated to put it into words. He was afraid that if he said it aloud, it would become reality.

“What if you can’t run for the rest of your life because of your recklessness today?”

He saw Jouji gasp and Prince hanging his head. Hanako didn’t move, only watching the course of Kiyose and Kakeru’s exchange.

Kakeru stared fixedly at Kiyose and waited for a response.

“It would be very painful,” Kiyose’s voice was quiet, and Kakeru knew that he had been thinking about that for a long time already. “But I won’t regret it.”

There’s no stopping him, Kakeru thought. If he were in Kiyose’s position, he would still choose to run.

Kakeru made up his mind. If that’s the case, then there’s only one thing I can do: to put as little burden on Haiji-san as possible, I should gain as much time as I can in the ninth leg.

The silence that enveloped the room was broken by Kiyose's phone ringing. He hung up after a short conversation.

“That was Shindou. The final entries were announced at Lake Ashi. Just as expected, Rikudou put Fujioka in the ninth leg.”

Jouji looked at Kakeru with both anticipation and worry in his eyes. “Okay,” Kakeru murmured. Blood was rushing through his body, and his heart was beating with joy and a fighting spirit; the day had come when they could finally compete in the same place. At the TSU meet in spring, he had only chased Fujioka’s back, but it was finally time to test how fast and strong he had become since then.

“Kakeru, don’t lose the race,” Kiyose said. Kakeru nodded determinedly.

It was past 7 in the morning.

They had to leave the hotel now. From now on, they were to split up: Kakeru and Jouji were going to the Totsuka relay station; Kiyose and Prince were going to the Tsurumi relay station; Hanako was going to Otemachi, the finish line.

“Are you okay with Jouji attending you? I can go with you, if you’d like,” Prince asked Kakeru, but he didn’t understand the intention of his question at all.

“Why? It’s fine as we planned.”

Even though his generous consideration was turned down, Prince didn’t seem offended at all, instead laughing and shaking his head lightly as though to say, “Good grief.”

When they reached the Yokohama Station premises, Kiyose said to Kakeru, “About what you said earlier.

“The situation isn’t as serious as you think. The painkillers are working, and I’m not beyond recovery.”

“Is that really true?”

“Have I ever lied?”

“Quite a lot.”

Kiyose frowned at the sky for a few moments, seemingly recalling his past acts.

“Don’t worry. I’m telling the truth this time,” he smiled. “I’m looking forward to seeing you run at Tsurumi.”

He felt like he wanted to say something to Kiyose—his gratitude, worry, and determination. But they were feelings that would never take shape no matter how many words he spent on them, so Kakeru only said, “I’ll hand you the sash not a second late.”

The group raised their hands a little to say goodbye, and then headed up the stairs to the platform to go to their respective places.

---

8 a.m.

As the starting gun sounded from Lake Ashi, the Bousou runner started running first. One minute and thirty-nine seconds later, the Rikudou runner followed.

One after another, the runners from each school left Lake Ashi with their sashes, with a time difference reflecting the times they had finished at Lake Ashi in the outbound leg. This time, the return leg of the Hakone Ekiden was beginning, heading for Otemachi, Tokyo.

Schools with more than ten minutes of difference from the outbound leg leader, Bousou, would start together ten minutes after Bousou began the return leg. In this year’s race, five schools had to start at the same time: the federation selected team, Eurasia University, Kansei University, Tokyo Gakuin University, and Shinsei University.

Kansei had a time difference of eleven minutes and fifty-three seconds with Bousou. Even though they would start the race simultaneously after ten minutes, the extra one minute and fifty-three seconds would not be discarded and would be automatically added to their overall time. Because of the simultaneous start, the visible order in which the runners were running and their orders by their times might differ from each other for the return leg.

In the return leg, especially for lower ranked teams, the competitors must not only look at the race’s development before their eyes, but also keep in mind the complicated time calculation, and try to fight calmly to raise their actual rankings as much as possible.

I’m made for this, Yuki thought. Rather than competing against others, he preferred to think about how to achieve his goals by developing countermeasures and how to show off his abilities while doing that. The sixth leg of the Hakone Ekiden, the mountain descent, suited his personality; he didn’t have to be misled by the apparent rankings, he just had to use his skills to run down the winding slope against the invisible enemy called time.

Just as he had declared, Shindou stayed by Yuki’s side the entire time before his departure. He helped him stretch, massaged his calves to prevent them from stiffening up in the cold, and conversed with him casually. Thanks to him, Yuki was able to calm his mind and focus on the race.

When the time came to set off, Yuki took off his bench coat and left it with Shindou. The temperature at Lake Ashi was minus three degrees Celsius. There was still powder snow in the air. The road surface was covered in snow and the ruts were frozen. Even with a long-sleeved T-shirt under his uniform, there was no way to prevent the cold from pressing down on him. The lack of wind was the only saving grace.

Jounan Bunka University was the last team that was able to start according to its time difference with Bousou. After being called by the staff member, the teams hurriedly lined up at the start line to start simultaneously.

Yuki looked at the crowd of people next to him. Shindou was almost swallowed up by the waves of spectators, but he was watching Yuki firmly.

“We’ll meet at Otemachi,” Yuki said. It might not have reached him, having gotten lost in the cheers, but Shindou was nodding.

Ten seconds after Jounan Bunka, the runners from the five teams started running at the same time on cue. Yuki’s glasses immediately fogged up from his body heat, but he soon regained his clear vision thanks to the cold wind blowing.

The road surface was covered with a thin layer of snow, making it nerve-wracking to even walk on flat surfaces, but running on it, there was no time to check your footing. Every step he took, the sherbet-like snowflakes bounced off his legs. Even the lightest shoes with the latest features couldn’t prevent the soles from slipping slightly as they kicked the surface.

The first four kilometers from the lakeside road to the highest point of Route 1 were mostly uphill. Of the five teams that had started at the same time, Eurasia was in front and Yuki didn’t hesitate to follow him. When he checked his watch at the first kilometer, his pace was less than three minutes and twenty seconds.

On the way up, he was a little too fast considering the poor road conditions. But if he didn’t go all out here, then there was no way Kansei would be able to improve their ranking in the return leg. Besides, Yuki thought, among the runners assigned to the sixth leg, the Rikudou runner was the only one who has a record of twenty-eight minutes for the ten-thousand meter. In other words, the runners in the sixth leg don’t put much emphasis on speed.

From the highest point to the town of Hakone-Yumoto, almost the entire sixth leg was downhill. Even if your time on flat surfaces wasn’t good, you could still go fast on the downhill if you gathered momentum. What was important was the dexterity to change your running style depending on the ups and downs, a sense of physical balance, and the boldness to run downhill without fear.

Even if he entered the first uphill slope at a somewhat fast pace, he would be able to conserve enough stamina. With this judgement, Yuki didn’t recoil.

They left the lakeside and headed up the path towards the mountains. There was one small up-and-down right before the highest point. As they approached the first descent, Yuki looked at his watch again. Kiyose had instructed him to run at a pace of three minutes and twenty seconds per kilometer on the way up, but he was now going at a pace of three minutes and fifteen seconds per kilometer.

I can do it. He was convinced. His body felt light and he was able to asjust his footwork according to the ups and downs without even thinking about it.

Tokyo Gakuin University and Shinsei University were already about to be shaken off from the lower-ranked group, which was now composed of six schools as it had absorbed Jounan Bunka, who had departed ahead of them.

All Yuki could think about was overtaking as many schools as possible in front of him. The cold didn’t bother him anymore. He climbed to the highest point in one go.

The downhill slope, which stretched for nearly fifteen kilometers, awaited him, meandering on and on beyond the falling snow.

---

“Isn’t he going too fast?”

Watching the portable TV, Kakeru arrived at the Totsuka relay station with Jouji. The screen showed Yuki and the others passing in front of the main gate of the Flower Center, the five-kilometer marker.

“But I heard that the normal pace for the sixth leg is five kilometers in around thirteen minutes?” Jouji said in his usual carefree way, but it didn’t ease Kakeru’s concerns. It was the pace after you got into the descent in earnest—it was hard even for a runner himself to hold back his speed once he was completely going downhill. Once your body got into the rhythm of the descent, it wasn’t impossible to run down a hundred meters in fifteen seconds. In the sixth leg, despite the long distance of 20.7 kilometers, the speed in some places was comparable to that of a short distance run.

However, even though the first five kilometers were uphill and the road conditions weren’t good, he was running in sixteen minutes. Even with Yuki’s running ability, it seemed to Kakeru that this was clearly an excessive pace.

“I’ll call Haiji-san.”

Kakeru took out his phone from his jacket pocket.

“You worry too much,” Jouji said, shrugging a little.

“Yes, this is Kiyose.” The phone immediately relayed Kiyose’s voice along with the bustle from outside. It seemed that he had already arrived at the Tsurumi relay station.

“Are you listening to the radio?”

“Prince’s phone has a TV function. He also found out about it just now. We’re watching it. It’s amazing what you can do with a cell phone these days.”

“Yes. No, not about that…” Prince’s slow pace and Kiyose’s hopelessness with technology made Kakeru feel dizzy. “Isn’t Yuki-senpai running a little too fast?”

“Yeah. I would call the landlord, but there’s no point—the coach cars don’t stay close to the runners on the mountain roads of Hakone.”

“What should we do?”

“There’s nothing we can do. The rest is the descent. It would be foolish to slow down now, so we can only pray that Yuki doesn’t slip and fall,” Kiyose let out a light laugh, as though he had gotten over all his worries. “Anyways Kakeru, make sure to jog and warm up properly. I have to get in touch with Nico-chan-senpai and King now, so we’ll talk later.”

The call ended, and Kakeru let out a sigh.

“I told you it’s fine,” Jouji took the phone from Kakeru. “You need to trust us a little more.”

“Trust, huh,” Kakeru began to rotate his ankles and prepare for a jog. “Come to think of it, Katsuta-san said that too.”

“H-Hana-chan?” Jouji immediately turned red. “Why are you bringing up Hana-chan?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Are you doing that on purpose or are you really that airheaded?” Growing impatient with Kakeru’s pointless reply, Jouji turned to him again. “Hey, you know, I like Hana-chan.”

“I know.”

“You know!? How?”

“Nico-chan-senpai said it on the phone yesterday.”

Even when we’re apart from each other, we can still be overheard just as well as when we’re in Chikusei-sou, Jouji grumbled.

“What about you, Kakeru?” He asked the question he wanted to ask the most: “Is it okay if I confess to Hana-chan?”

Why do you need to check with me for that? It seems that the residents of Chikusei-sou are convinced that I like Katsuta-san. Kakeru, pondering up to that point, felt a jolt to his heart like the feeling of falling during the first stage of sleep.

I like Katsuta-san.

It was partly because he was so dense that he couldn’t even laugh at the twins, but it was a feeling that had been in his heart so quietly and naturally that he hadn’t been aware of it until now.

Kakeru had always kept Hanako’s figure carefully in his memory. The color of her scarf on the night they walked together. The profile of her face when she watched them train under the sky where summer clouds were rising. The first time he saw her, her thin back as she pedalled her bike through the shopping district.

Kakeru was looking at Hanako. And all that time, her eyes and thoughts were solely on the twins.

“Now I get it.”

Kakeru was shocked at his feelings that had finally become clear.

“…What are you talking about?” Jouji nervously asked, seemingly thinking that it was creepy how he had suddenly zoned and then nodded to himself.

“No,” Kakeru shook his head. “I think you should just confess to her.”

It wasn’t an act of bravado, but a feeling of clarity. He was sure that Hanako would be happy to know Jouji’s feelings. Perhaps she would be equally pleased with a confession from Jouta, and there might be a quarrel there. But that wasn’t Kakeru’s business.

This wasn’t a competition. Hanako’s heart belonged to her. Jouji’s heart belonged to him as well. It was the same as how Kakeru’s heart only belonged to him. It was a domain that was free from all standards and measures, something no one could steal or bend.

It was satisfying to know that there was a gentle but strong feeling within him that had nothing to do with speed or victory or defeat. Hanako, who taught him those feelings, seemed more and more important to him. Kakeru would be happy if her love was realized.

Also, I’m used to long-distance running. I’m good at patiently waiting for an opportunity. Even if Hanako has feelings for the twins right now, you can’t state definitively that it’ll be forever.

“I see, I guess it’s better to tell her. Uwah, what should I do, I’m so nervous.”

Jouji was determined to confess his feelings to Hanako without any hesitation, not realizing that Kakeru, who was patient when it came to the important things, was chewing on his first realization of love like a ruminating cow.

---

Yuki was smoothly descending the mountain.

In the beginning, he tried to run on the ruts because he was afraid of slipping on the frozen snow, but then he couldn’t steer a good course through the turns. Too much concern about slipping would cause him to put pressure on his muscles, which would make it all come to nothing. In the end, Yuki decided to run and take the course as usual.

Running downhill is fun, Yuki thought. To be able to feel such acceleration with my own body. His speed was so fast that even the soft snowflakes hitting his face from the front hurt like pebbles. While balancing with his whole body, he followed the slope as it led him forward. His fear of falling down didn’t cross his mind at all in the face of the pleasure of speed.

The front of Kowakien was the ten-kilometer point of the sixth leg. It was also a TV relay point. Even though the weather was bad and it was early in the morning, there were spectators along the roadside cheering for them. Following the Eurasia runner, Yuki turned to the right, and he could hear the watery footsteps of the Shinsei runner right behind him.

Yuki, of course, had no way of knowing, but the announcer and the commentator Yanaka were watching the live feed and commentating on the running of the athletes from each school.

“The footage of the lower-ranked teams at the ten-kilometer mark is coming in. What do you think, Yanaka-san?”

“They’re going at quite a fast pace. I thought that the section prize for the sixth leg would go to Manaka, who is steadily improving their rank from twelfth place, but there is a possibility that it will go to one of the lower-ranked teams.”

“According to the data at hand, except for Tamura-kun of Rikudou, all the runners in the sixth leg have an official record in the twenty-nine-minute range for the ten-thousand meters.”

“When it comes to the mountain descent, the time on flat surfaces is not that important. If you can run ten-thousand meters in the twenty-nine-minute range, then the rest is all down to guts.”

“Guts, you say?”

“Yes. The speed and incline the runners experience is much more than what you see on the screen. It’s like pedalling a bike down a steep slope with both hands free. And today, the footing isn’t good. It’s crucial to calmly keep your balance and have the guts to keep your momentum going.”

“Which of the lower-ranked teams do you think is closest to the section prize?”

“I still don’t know yet, but I like Iwakura-kun of Kansei. He has a very stable lower body. His upper body doesn’t sway unnecessarily, and he doesn’t flinch from running down bad roads at all. He is an excellent example of how to run downhill.”

“I see. The rest would depend on their persistence when the road becomes flat after Hakone-Yumoto. They've passed the ten-kilometer TV relay point.”

As they descended in altitude, the snow turned into sleet mixed with rain and the road became covered with a sherbet-like muck. Yuki realized that he had crossed the width of the crosswalk in two steps.

The current crosswalk was probably four meters wide. If he had crossed it in two steps, then that meant he had gone two meters in one step. Yuki was once again shocked at himself—his acceleration was incredible. He had gained momentum and was literally running as if he were flying, and his stride was widening as a result. He glanced at his watch: for the past five kilometers, he had been running downhill at a pace of two minutes and forty seconds.

One kilometer in two minutes and forty seconds. It was a time Yuki couldn’t achieve on flat ground. As far as he knew, the only person who could sustain such a pace for five kilometers on level ground was Kakeru.

The branches of the cedar trees on the roadside were piled with pure white snow. The trunks were black and wet, and the mountains had been transformed overnight into a beautiful, monochromatic world. As soon as they appeared in the corner of his eye, they streamed backwards, smoother and faster than in a movie.

So, this is the world Kakeru normally experiences. Yuki had a lump in his throat.

Kakeru, you’re in a very lonely place, aren’t you? The wind rumbles loudly in your ears, and all the scenery passes by you in an instant. It feels so good that I never want to stop running, but it’s a world you can only experience alone.

For the first time, he understood why Kakeru was so devoted to running, sometimes to the point of overdoing it. If Yuki were allowed to run at such a speed, he would certainly indulge in it like an addict. He wanted to see the world in quicker, even more beautiful instants. Perhaps that was a momentary experience, almost like an eternity. However, it was too dangerous—it was a world that was too beautiful, too harsh to challenge with a flesh and blood body.

Now I’m just looking at the gate that would lead me there from a distance, with the help of the mountain roads of Hakone, Yuki thought. He knew that he wouldn’t get any closer.

Dragged in by Kiyose’s enthusiasm, Yuki’s life had been centered around running for the past year. But that life was coming to an end today. I have my own way of life. I don’t want to aim for momentary beauty and exaltation, sharpening my mind and body day after day. I want to choose to live among people, even if I’m covered in filth. That’s why I passed the bar and am trying to become a lawyer.

Today’s the end. But I’m glad I experienced this speed for the first and last time. Yuki smiled slightly as he sped along the mountain road. Kakeru, don’t go too far. What you’re aiming for is a beautiful place, but it’s lonely and quiet. So much that it doesn’t suit a living person.

It would be nice if there’s something to tie Kakeru’s soul to the earth, Yuki thought. In people’s lives, in people’s joys and sorrows. It’s only by planting his feet on the ground that Kakeru would definitely become even stronger. Balance was essential. It was the same as running down a snowy mountain road.

As Yuki entered the Miyanoshita Hot Spring Village and passed in front of the Fujiya Hotel, he saw something unexpected and let out a short cry.

“Uwah!”

In front of the hotel, there were many guests waving Hakone Ekiden flags. Some of them were dressed lightly in yukata and padded kimonos, shouting their voices hoarse even as they shrank back from the cold. Among them, Yuki saw his mother, his younger sister who was only half related to him, and his mother’s second husband.

“Yukihiko!” his mother shouted loudly.

“Onii-chan, do your best!” His young sister leaned forward, and his stepfather, who was holding her, nodded firmly.

“This is so embarrassing…”

He passed by the hotel in a few moments, but Yuki ran for a while with his head down. Did my family elegantly spend the New Year’s at that hotel? Yuki snarked inwardly to cover up his embarrassment. They probably knew I wouldn’t be able to come by even if they invited me, so they planned to surprise me by not saying anything. Even so, it’s too bad for my heart. I hope the TV and radio didn’t pick up the voices and figures of Mom and the others. Nico-chan-senpai would definitely make fun of me if he knew. Well, he should only have a radio, so I think I’ll be fine.

Yuki suddenly felt happy. That look on Mom’s face just now. She looked desperate and tearful, like she was the one running.

Yuki didn’t remember his biological father. He had died in an accident right after he was born, so his only memories of his father were in his mother’s words and photos. Since his father’s death, Yuki had only lived with his mother, and he treasured her very much. His high school girlfriend had once said to him, “Yuki, you’re a mama’s boy, aren’t you?” Of course I am, Yuki thought. A son who doesn’t take care of his mother isn’t a good son.

Perhaps because he grew up watching his mother work late into the night, Yuki set his sights on his goals early on. He wanted to get a steady job so that he could make his mother’s life easier. Fortunately, he had confirmed during his school life that his brain wasn’t half-bad. If that was the case, then it would be easy to aim for the bar exam, which was called the strongest qualification. He thought that being a lawyer, where he could work between logic and emotion, would be suitable for him, and more importantly, it seemed to make a lot of money. As soon as Yuki entered high school, he began preparing for the exam on his own. He studied hard and worked on his stamina. He thought that he should be well-versed in the inner workings of relationships between men and women, so he went out with girls.

However, something happened that made Yuki’s efforts all come to nothing: his mother remarried. Her new husband was an office worker who earned a decent wage, so his mother didn’t have to work anymore. She loved her new husband and seemed to be very happy. His stepfather was easily able to do more for her than Yuki had ever wanted to do for his mother.

Yuki couldn’t help but feel devastated. He had his pride, and when he decided to do something, he had to finish it, so he didn’t give up on passing the bar exam. However, it was all in vain now. The following year after his mother remarried, she had his little sister. This was also a situation that made Yuki, who was in his late teens, feel awkward and uncomfortable. When he got into university, he left home and rarely came back, even at New Year’s.

Seeing his family cheer him on made the trivial pent-up feelings he had melt away. As though to match that, the snow had completely transformed into rain.

Both his stepfather and his sister had always cared for Yuki as a member of the family. And most importantly, his mother was happy. That’s all that matters. That’s exactly what I’ve always wanted. It would be childish of me to keep sulking about the fact that my mother became happy in a slightly different way than I envisioned.

Yuki laughed, unnoticed by anyone else, in the midst of his white and billowing exhalation. Before he knew it, he caught a glimpse of the Teitou University runner's back at the end of the turn. He couldn’t sense anyone behind him; he seemed to have pulled away from the lower-ranked teams he had started the race with.

He looked at his watch and confirmed that he hadn’t slowed down his pace at all. His mind and body felt light. He could go the rest of the way downhill at this pace. What was important was whether or not he could keep up this running for the last three kilometers of flat ground after Hakone-Yumoto. Kiyose had given him advice yesterday.

“After a downhill slope, even flat ground feels like going uphill. That’s when the real battle begins.”

I think I’ll be okay, Yuki answered in his mind. I have no intention of losing today—to the battle between me and my body and mind.

---

The drums were still beating at the Odawara relay station. In front of Kazamatsuri Station, there were many people crowded into the kamaboko company's parking lot, waiting for the arrival of the sixth leg athletes.

“Did you see that, Jouta? Yuki’s face was there just now!”

Nico-chan had directly witnessed the scene in front of Fujiya Hotel with the TV function of his cell phone. It was only when Haiji called him earlier that he realized he could watch TV on Jouta’s phone as well. Even Nico-chan, who was knowledgeable about computers, only used his phone for calling, and Jouta only used his for texting. Perhaps it was because he wasn’t interested in the evolution of machines that he could be satisfied with the rundown apartment.

“Yuki-senpai’s mom is young and beautiful,” Jouta said, biting into a rolled omelette. “By the way, he’s going to win the section prize at this rate, isn’t he?”

“Yuki doesn’t seem to be aware of that fact, though. The Manaka guy is just as fast as him, so it's hard to tell.”

“Ugh, I’m so frustrated! I want to tell Yuki-senpai his time.”

“How?”

“I’ll use willpower or telekinesis or something,” Jouta put the omelet he was partway through eating away in his sports bag and began to look at his phone intently. “In less than twenty minutes, it will be Nico-chan-senpai’s turn.”

The screen showed Bousou in the lead, and Rikudou chasing behind with a difference of about one and a half minutes. They were about to finish their descent and head towards Hakone-Yumoto Station. The Manaka runner, aiming for the section prize, had improved his position and was now in eighth place. His pace hadn’t slowed at all.

“How’s Yuki?”

“He’s not on the screen. Until they go out to Hakone-Yumoto, the lower-ranked teams won’t be shown much.”

Nico-chan told Jouta to keep an eye on Manaka’s time and began his final adjustments. He ran lightly in the parking lot to loosen up.

Nine o’clock in the morning. The Bousou runner arrived at the station in the lead. His time was sixty minutes and forty-six seconds. Rikudou and Yamato were the next to receive their sashes. Nico-chan hurried back to Jouta, who was near the relay line.

“Amazing!” Jouta was excited. “Even on flat ground, his speed hasn’t slowed down. Keep going, Yuki-senpai!”

On the screen of his phone, he could see Yuki sidestepping the Teitou runner at the crossroad with New Hakone Road. Kansei, in fourteenth place, had a clear view of TSU in front of them.

“Yes, that’s it!”

Nico-chan took off his jersey. Now it was time to see if Yuki could get the section prize.

“Manaka?”

“We'll be able to see them with our own eyes soon.”

Jouta raised his head from his phone. “They’re here!” he shouted.

The red uniform of Manaka, running along the railroad tracks, was just about to turn off the road and enter the relay station. They knew he was a candidate for the section prize, so the cheers were even louder. Manaka’s sash was handed over.

“What’s his record!”

“Sixty minutes and twenty-four seconds.”

Jouta read the information on the TV screen on his phone out loud. It was a good time for running on snowy roads. Even Rikudou’s Tamura, whose ten-kilometer time was in the twenty-eight minute range, had a time of sixty minutes and forty-eight seconds.

At the relay station, the schools relayed their sashes one after the other. The TV screen showed that Yuki was almost there.

Yuki, just a little more. The staff member called Nico-chan to stand at the relay line. All that was left was a race against time. Next to him, the TSU runner received his sash and started running. He could hear Jouta’s voice as he timed Yuki on his watch.

“Sixty minutes and seventeen seconds, eighteen, nineteen…”

Yuki entered the relay station. He was gritting his teeth and holding the unfastened sash in his right hand. He might have learned Manaka’s time from the spectators along the road and was trying to summon up all his strength in the final stretch.

“Yuki!” Nico-chan howled. “Sixty minutes and twenty-four seconds,” Jouta screamed. There was a stir from the spectators. The sash still hadn’t been passed to Nico-chan’s hand. Yuki was a step short of the section prize.

But at that moment, Nico-chan forgot about the existence of times. Yuki’s eyes were looking straight at him. He wasn’t thinking about the section prize at all, he just wanted to give the sash to Nico-chan as soon as possible. That was the only thing he was thinking about as he made it through the last three flat kilometers. Nico-chan understood that. He could see that in Yuki’s fingertips, which were still hot and damp despite being exposed to the cold wind.

“Good job,” Nico-chan muttered.

“I’m tired. I’m leaving the rest to you.”

Yuki clapped Nico-chan on the back, managed to step firmly on his trembling legs, and prevented himself from falling over.

“Yuki-senpai!” Jouta snatched a towel from a staff member and ran up to Yuki to support him. “It's disappointing, but you were incredible!”

“Disappointing? What is?” Yuki drank water from a plastic water bottle and finally found his voice.

“The section prize. Yuki-senpai’s time was sixty minutes and twenty-six seconds. If you had been two seconds faster, you would have tied for the section prize.”

“Really.”

Two seconds. Yuki laughed. Only two seconds. Such a short amount of time that passed in a single breath. Did I miss out on being the best in this leg by such a small margin?

“Oh well,” Yuki said. “Those two seconds were like an hour to me.”

Jouta almost cried when he saw Yuki’s soles after he took off his shoes. The blisters at the base of his big toes had peeled off and there was blood welling up, even though the skin on his soles had grown so thick over the past year. He realized just how hard it was to run down the mountains of Hakone.

“Of course it was enough. You were so cool, Yuki-senpai.”

After patting the tearful Jouta on the head, Yuki looked at the road leading toward the town of Odawara.

I’m leaving the rest to you, Nico-chan-senpai.

Previous | Next

#Kaze ga tsuyoku fuiteiru #kazetsuyo #kazetsuyo translations #run with the wind

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whump-town · 3 years

Text

In With The New, Out With The Old

Hotch packing Jack up for college

None of it feels real.

For two years after he and Haley divorced he lived in an apartment of boxes. It was some sort of punishment he created for himself while also creating a dissonance he could be lost in -- that he didn’t need to unpack just in case. He had his suits in the closet, his work would not take the fall for his personal life’s failings. The coffee maker sat on the counter, one of the only appliances hooked into a light socket. The necessities followed -- two mugs for coffee, a glass tumbler for the whiskey sitting on the counter, and one plate for when he ordered take-out he couldn’t just eat out of the box.

It had taken him months to buy a mattress, he was perfectly miserable sleeping on the couch. He had only taken Jack to the apartment once, needing to switch into more park-appropriate clothing. Between them, he and Haley agreed that the best thing for Jack was consistency so he would spend all day with Hotch but he would always go home to Haley. He knew this could be used against him in court, Haley could take Jack from his so easily it terrified him but he also knew he’d let her. He was more powerful, he had more strings to pull and more people on his side but the thought of getting on the stand and having his friends call her a bad mother made him feel even worse. So he knew that if it came down to it, he would let Haley have Jack rather put either of them that sort of grueling case.

This was a shared thought between them. Both are aware of the other’s power over the other. Neither will act on their own.

He had only bought a mattress because of New York. Limping home he’d sunk down into his old faithful couch only to wake up the next morning with achingly stiff sutures in his leg and his face stuck to a throw pillow, the blood drying like glue. He had to call Emily and Derek that afternoon. Unable to drive himself with his concussion and consequential blurred vision Emily had come over to pick him up, never said a word about what he’d been sleeping on in the months before. Neither did Derek when Hotch got too dizzy coming up the stairs, the stitches in his leg bleeding through his jeans and so pale Emily had to hold him upright to get him to the bench in the lobby. He was left there, listening to Derek and Emily bicker their way into forcing the mattress into the apartment through the pounding sound of blood rushing in his ears.

That was years ago and yet they’ve created its mirror image once again in his living room.

All of Jack’s belongings in boxes spread out in every room of the house. Packing up to leave.

“Art?” Emily mumbles disapprovingly. She’s knelt down in front of Jack’s bookshelf, dismantling the organized shelves to pack them into boxes. It’s a different method than the one that Hotch uses. Jack has them categorized by author and general theme and as Emily takes down all the books she’s gotten him about cults and psychology and crime she can’t help but feel a little cheated. Jack knows all about crime. He’s had Macdonald’s Triad memorized since he was five -- could give that method of thought its critical analysis as not a precursor to antisocial or serial killer behavior but more as a demonstration of a child’s poor coping skills or as the indicator of a dysfunctional home environment. He’s a well of information about cults, knows the “B.I.T.E.” system.

And he’s throwing all that away because Hotch took him to too many museums as a child?

Jack doesn’t say anything when he hears her grumble about art again, he’s had this conversation so many times. He knows she’s not really mad and she’s not even that irked but she needs to do something with the feelings she has about him leaving and this is just the best way she’s come up with. Better than crying -- which she’s also done far too much of.

“I think art is a great idea, kid.” Derek teases his hair as he passes, sweaty and hot from dragging Jack’s belongings around the place.

Hotch works slowly where he’s been assigned. They all work around him. He’s more freelance than the others. His job is to do what he can and leave the rest for someone else. Today his physical capabilities are not in the way. Derek does all the heavy lifting that Hotch knows is supposed to be assigned to him, it’s his duty as the father of the freshman moving away. He finds himself in the living room, one of Haley’s old photo albums on his lap. Thumbing pictures he can remember going with Haley to print. Pictures he can remember being in. Ones that he took.

He’s crying again.

Emily comes out with a box of books on her hip, having figured out the perfect ratio of books to box to prevent them from falling out the bottom. She sees Hotch wiping his face with a tissue, hiding away but unable to fully pull away right now. The hurt raw. The fear is too much.

The second that Hotch got the chance he left home and never came back. Over the years he returned to his hometown only when he had to -- when Haley’s parents couldn’t be convinced to come to see them. It didn’t matter how down bad he was, Hotch did it on his own. When his mother died when he was thirty he’d talked to her only once since moving out. Then it had only been for the benefit of Sean, who he had driven all the back to Virginia to collect and drove to college.

He fears Jack will do the same and it terrifies him in so many ways.

His own death will come quickly, he knows he’s only made it this long because he’s not alone. Without Jack, there’s no reason to keep going on, not with the way his body aches from years of abuse and neglect. More than that, he knows what growing up that fast did to him. As a child, the things that happen to you are out of your control. Children are sponges, not yet able to take control and mold themselves. So their reactions to abuse and neglect and even just trivial everyday things are but a reaction they are taught to form or never corrected on. But Hotch never corrected his behaviors as a young adult. He couldn’t bring himself to trust anyone, not at twenty, or thirty, and still at forty.

He spent his twentieth birthday on the side of the highway in a broken down car freezing his ass off with negative twenty-three cents in his bank account. No one to call because he couldn’t bring himself to believe anyone would come -- but Haley would have, or Jessica, or the sociology professor who gave him his number for emergencies or “just anything you can think of, just in case you need me”.

He doesn’t wish anything like that on Jack.

The cycle of self-destruction and fear and loathing.

But Jack knows how to form healthy relationships with people. He’s more worried about Hotch.

The car ride is nearly silent.

Jack cranks his window down and lays his head on the seal, lets the wind blow his hair back from his skin, and closes his eyes. There’s no air conditioning but it’s not that bad. The air has cooled off, the thunderstorms taking over the area sucking the humidity from the air as the wind picks up. It’ll get bad again in a day or so but today is nice and Jack wants to enjoy it. To sit contently with his dad and just try to soak it in before he’s thrown into the world of college.

Emily had promised him several times she’d make sure that Hotch didn’t turn himself into a hermit. Jack has grown up watching those two spar off so he knows she’s perfectly capable of getting Hotch out of the house. More than that, Jack knows he’s just going to miss his dad.

“Please--” Jack’s in the middle of trying to reorganize his stuff when he sees Hotch come in with one of the big boxes, one of the heavy ones. “Dad!” Jack takes it from him, not listening to Hotch’s complaint about being able to carry a few boxes. That he won’t break that easily. “Please, just leave the heavy stuff to Emily and Derek. Help me put my clothes away? Please?”

He nearly cries again folding Jack’s t-shirts away. Once upon a time, Jack’s shirts were about the size of his hand. Tiny delicate little things about the size of rags. Now he’s wearing the same size as Hotch, a grown man standing there racing to beat Emily to the heavy stuff because he doesn’t want her lifting it all either.

“Well,” Derek announces, setting the minifridge down, “that’s the last of it.”

Emily offers Hotch her hand and he takes it, grunting as he moves his body back upright.

“Well,” he declares, looking around the room. “We’ll leave you to it. Let you get everything sorted out how you like.” Hotch smiles and Emily and Derek step in to take their hugs, imparting half-wise ideas and a no-questions-asked ride home from anywhere.

“I love you,” Hotch says, he’s quick because he knows he can’t keep his composure if he stays here for too much longer. “I’ll send you care packages, you’ll just have to text me if you think of something I don’t send.”

Jack nods, pretending to make himself busy putting away the rest of his clothes. Trying to downplay his own feelings.

“Ok.”

Hotch nods and they leave, he doesn’t want to make a scene. They’ve hugged and Jack needs to unpack. He’s done. He’s only two doors away when he hears Jack’s door gets thrown open.

“Dad!” Hotch turns and stumbles, an armful of the little boy who was once the size of his forearm. He squeezes Jack tight, laughing through his tears when Jack holds on. “I love you too.”

Hotch holds him for a solid minute, just balanced there with his hand on the back of Jack’s head. “Alright,” he whispers. He sniffles a little, smiling as he cups Jack’s cheek wiping away a tear with his thumb. “I’m just a phone call away, okay? Any time of the night, you know where I am. You’ll be fine. You’re going to make mistakes and you’re going to fail tests and cry over boys and drink too much but you’ll be okay. And-- And if you’re not…”

Jack nods, smiling as he says, “I’ll call Emily.”

Hotch smirks, “well.. After a certain hour, yeah I suppose you’ll have to but yeah. Just call, okay?”

“I’ll call.”

Hotch nods and he has to force himself to let go and walk away. To let Jack do this.

They’re halfway down the hall, far enough away now that Jack won’t see or hear when Hotch starts to cry. He forces himself to keep going. Not to look back. Emily takes his hand, squeezes his fingers and he looks over at her tears in his eyes, and tries to smile.

Emily drives his truck home, she plans on feeding him chocolate and ice cream, and wine this afternoon to improve his mood. He gets a text and he smirks, he actually laughs.

“Let me know when you get home, old man. Tell Emily not to keep you out too late.”

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #jack hotchner #emily prentiss #derek morgan #criminal minds fanfiction

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dragonotaku-justineverything · 3 years

Note

Maid/ Butler AU: Have there been times where it’s just solely Jaune and Weiss or Pyrrha and Weiss having sex while the other is away? For example: While Pyrrha is out helping Winter with some errands, is Jaune back at the mansion railing Weiss?

Whoops, I got carried away again.

Pyrrha blushed in embarrassment as she was indeed out in a clothing store in Atlas with Miss Winter at the moment, as per a suggestion she made. While it was nice spending time with Miss Winter, Pyrrha had a very good idea what kind of fun that was happening back at the Schnee Manor right now.

Mainly because she received a short video from Jaune of Weiss and him while they were out shopping.

Pyrrha quickly looked around to make sure no one was nearby, as she was waiting outside the changing room Winter was currently using. Seeing no one at all, she pulled out her scroll again and discreetly opened the video on mute.

-.-.-.-.-.-In video-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“FUCK FUCK FUCK! Fuck me more daddy!”

Normally, Weiss Schnee would be appalled after hearing such vulgarity. However in this moment, she was actually the one saying, or more accurately screaming, them. And she didn’t feel the slightest bit ashamed.

Nor was she ashamed of her current position. Face down on her bed, her cheek pressing harshly against the once neatly made light blue blanket. Her eyes watering and makeup running off her face as tears escaped from the pleasure, landing on her sheets. She had her small pale ass propped up in the air for her daddy to easily pump his cock into her dripping cunt.

Something that Jaune, who was her daddy at the moment, was all too happy to do.

“That’s my good little Snow Slut.” Jaune was positioned behind her also on the be. He was on his left knee with his right leg up, letting him fuck her pussy with every inch of his cock. His left hand was clamped down on her slim hip, not letting her get too far away from his jackhammer like thrusts. His hips were slamming forward with such force the way they were slapping into her petite ass was probably going to leave some bruising.

Good thing Weiss was such a kinky slut during sex that she actually loved it.

“How’s! This! For! Harder! You! Pompous! Bitch!?” Each word from Jaune was accompanied by a harsh thrust into his current fuck toy.

Weiss’s eyes almost rolled back as the pleasure from her pussy tripled. She clenched her teeth briefly, trying to adjust to the new force fucking her. She wasn’t even aware that some drool still leaked out past her teeth. When she finally managed to speak again, it was just what Jaune wanted to hear. “YES OH FUCK YES! I love it Daddy! I’m a filthy slut and I love your cock so much! I love it when you’re so rough with me! Yo- AAH!”

Weiss was suddenly yanked backwards to be against Jaune’s chest, a sharp cry leaving her throat. No one would be able to tell if it was from pain or pleasure, but for Weiss it didn’t matter because they were pretty much the same thing to her right now.

“You like this that much huh?” Jaune’s grip tightened in her ponytail. This was his preferred method of getting her in position. His left hand was clenched tightly and the heiress’s silky white hair was tangled around his fingers. The slightest pull and Jaune could move Wiess however he wanted with ease.

And she fucking loved it!

Though despite having all the control, Jaune just kept her pulled tightly back against his body, still thrusting against her. Jaune moved his head next to hers and used her ponytail to make her turn her head to the left to face him. She looked at him like the fucked stupid girl she was at the moment, with hearts in her pupils and everything. “J-Ja-? MMMPH!”

Her question was stopped as he kissed her roughly, dominating her mouth as per usual. His tongue pushed against hers and pushed it down, then slowly swirled around it.

As he did, he thrust one last time into her pussy, entering as far as he could and erupted. Weiss felt the sensation of Jaune’s warm cum pumping into her pussy and came hard. Her eyes rolled back as spurt after spurt of cum emptied into her hungry pussy. She would never get tired of how amazing it felt to be filled with his seed. Fortunately she had an IUD so she didn’t need to worry about getting pregnant….. just yet.

After a last few twitches from his cock, Jaune pulled his out of her pussy while. Some of his cum following behind and dripping onto the bed. He ended their kiss, sucking on her bottom lip as he pulled away which got a needy whimper from Weiss. With one last nibble, he pulled away completely. Jaune looked at her with a warm smile, and Weiss looked back at him with a bliss filled panting love. Panting a little, Jaune leaned towards her again, but not for another kiss like she was both expecting and hoping for.

Instead, Jaune leaned in next to her ear and in a slightly smug voice he said, “Smile and say hi to the camera my little Snow Slut~.”

Weiss still had enough self-awareness for her eyes to widen slightly. Weiss, with some help from Jaune’s hand in her ponytail, turned her head to look to the right of her.

There was Jaune’s right arm reaching behind her, holding up his scroll in his hand. On the screen she could see herself looking like a complete mess from the rough fucking she just been through. She could also see a small red light at the bottom, indicating the scroll was recording. Just as soon as she saw it, it was taken away as Jaune lowered his scroll again. Now completely coherent again, Weiss turned back to face Jaune and quietly yelled, “J-Jaune! W-what are you doing!?! You recorded us!? Why?!” Worry was evident in her voice.

Jaune dropped the scroll onto the bed with a quiet *Thud* and moved his now free hand under her arm to gently cup her chin. “Because, you mention that you’ve wanted to try filming your fun times with Pyrrha and me for your own personal use, so I figured why not start now? Oh, and Pyrrha did ask Winter to install a modified Atlas Military grade security chip into all of our scrolls. She did that about two days ago, so we’re all safe from hacking. Don’t worry Weiss,” Jaune kissed her again, this time it was quick, but also much more gently and loving. “Pyrrha and I are the only ones that get to see you like this~.” He ended his explanation with another tender kiss, this one lasting longer, and Jaune felt Weiss melt back into him.

Weiss pulled away and pouted cutely at him. “You scared me, you dolt.”

“I’m sorry Snow Angel, I should have warned you. But dust, you were so hot.” Weiss blushed slightly at his genuine compliment. “How about I make it up to you? That is, if you’re up for it.”

Weiss smiled, his stamina really was incredible. “I suppose I could let you have the chance, but I’d rather just cuddle. My father was… rather hard to deal with today.”

Jaune nodded and slowly guided them both to laying down on the soft mattress. He then quickly pulled the blanket over both them and became the big spoon. Weiss sighed happily as Jaune’s arm wrapped around her and held her close, making her feel very… cared for.

However, she noticed that she was laying something under her thigh that wasn’t too comfortable. She reached down and pulled out a scroll. She offered it behind her and got comfortable again. “Jaune. Your scroll.”

“Oh, sorry Weiss.” Jaune gently took his scroll from her. As he did, he noticed he never ended the recording. ‘Whoops.’ He tapped the stop button and the video ended.

-.-.-.-.-.-Back at clothing store with Pyrrha-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Pyrrha was blushing as she lowered her scroll, though her blush was more from being turned on rather than being embarrassed. “It took some time, but yes Jaune and I do solely sleep with Miss Weiss on occasion. There is no doubt that Jaune loves me and I him, but Miss Weiss has grown quite attached to our ‘affection’, and we are more than willing to give her it.”

Pyrrha’s imagination started to wander again, but she reeled it back in and continued. “However, we aren’t always together for Miss Weiss to get her needed affection, so we just agreed that this would be best. Though I we all agreed that we shouldn’t get too carried away with how often we do it in a row. For example, Jaune shouldn’t spend a week in a row having sex with Weiss every night without me joining or having a turn.”

Pyrrha was still thinking about the video and how turned on it got her. She bit her lips, trying to calm herself down. “Jaune also needs to make sure he saves some for me~.”

Whether she meant sex, energy, cum, or time with Weiss was anyone’s guess.

“I suppose I’ll be asking for a turn when we retu-”

A call from the changing room interrupted Pyrrha. “Pyrrha, could you please come in her and help me with this dress?”

“Yes Miss Winter, right away!” Pyrrha quickly put her scroll away into her purse and stood up. She swiftly opened the door and swiftly closed it behind her.

Inside the small room she was greeted by the sight of a bare naked Winter Schnee sitting on the bench inside, looking Pyrrha in the eye with a somewhat nervous yet very excited smile. Her left hand was down between her legs spreading her pussy lips open for Pyrrha to see. The shocked redhead could already see how wet and excited Winter was. “Surprise~.”

Pyrrha was able to recover from her shock after Winter spoke up. With a swift movement of her hand a Pyrrha locked the changing room door with a *click*. She then stepped towards Winter. ‘I guess I’ll be having some fun of my own before we head back~.’ She stopped right in front of Winter and slowly began to undress, an eager smirk on her own lips to match Winter’s.

“I received quite a fun little video from Jaune just now.”

“And I see you’re as aroused as I am then~?”

“Very much so… Mistress.”

A confident chuckle filled the room. “So that’s what you want right now? Well I hope you’ll be able to stay quiet~.”

“I will, I promise.”

“We’ll see about that won’t we… my good little Ice Bitch~.”

Jaune wasn’t the only one that would be having some fun with a Schnee tonight.

#rwby #jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #weiss schnee #winter schnee #butler jaune #maid pyrrha #maid and butler au #maid/butler arkos #ask #sfw #non sfw #anonymous

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