Tumgik
#now i'm always cold all the time what happened
tarjapearce · 2 days
Text
Like Me Pt. 2
Tarzan! Miguel O'Hara x Scientist ! Reader
Tumblr media
Art by Rendraws21 on X
WARNINGS: Mildly suggestive, power dynamics, emotional distress, endangering situations, Kraven being an asshole.
Summary: Your savior proves himself to be very much real.
A|N: Hope you like! I know you're waiting smut. Just bare with it! ;w; Reblogs and feedback are always welcome ❤️
Previous Miguelverse Main Masterlist
Kraven didn't dally and ordered the camp to be settled. The spot was rather good. A prime source of water and food next to you all, soil sturdy and perfect for withstanding the hard hammering of the tools that nailed the bases for the tents.
And after hours of bickering, russian cursing, more work and the crew doctor patching your arm up, the camp was settled and food served.
Each bite not only felt heavenly, but was scarfed down. You couldn't care less if Peter looked your way, mildly disgusted and surprised of your manners, or rather the lack of them while eating.
It was the least you deserved after surviving a ship sinking, getting lost in the jungle, being chased by a giant Jaguar and a man that left more questions than answers.
Who was he? More important, How had he survived all these years on his own?
After a second plate and extra slices of bread, one of the men approached and announced the readiness of your tent. One of the things you asked in your contract. To have your own, cause as much as you trusted Peter, there was nothing better than to have your own space and privacy in the midst of an unhealthy amount of testosterone surrounding you.
"We've eaten, replenished, and blah blah. What happened?" Peter mumbled while picking his and your plate together.
You shook your head softly as another crew member passed by. You didn't trust them, and Kraven had proved to be unpredictable.
One minute he cared for his crew and the other he was leaving you to fend for yourselves. But as long as you did your job, you wouldn't be part of the russian's guessing dangerous games.
"Kraven said we'd have to make do with the little tools we have. He spent a good time of the day trying to get some signal for the radio."
"Any luck?"
"None so far." Peter mumbled as he took your things inside your tent.
A hammock was the bed, a few boxes and other storage things were placed in a corner. A chalkboard and your investigation books in another corner and against all odds, a little broken mirror that acted as a poor attempt of a vanity ontop of another wooden box. Your hairbrush rested next to it. Whoever arranged it, at least had the consideration to make it as comfortable looking as possible.
In total, you had a couple of shirts and skirts left to use. The rest remained on the sea, floating and drifting away with unknown course.
Peter excused to go change himself and you seized the chance to do the same. Catching a cold in the jungle wasn't in your priorities list. Not with reduced medicine and victuals.
You put on a dry set and combed your hair out as much as you could. Peter joined you a couple of minutes later.
The fire cracked and sparked alive as the crew surrounded it. The day had been chaotic at best and everyone tried to soothe the nerves in their own way. Some drank, others sang, others talked and soon Kraven joined.
Others simply went to sleep. Too tired to keep up after a well deserved meal.
"So..." Peter started while sitting before you, a rag and some tubs on his hands. He was cleaning the remaining pieces of your equipment.
"Promise me you won't talk to anyone about this. And I mean it, Parker."
"I'm a geologist, not a snitch."
"I'm... kinda scared of what might happen if Kraven finds out"
"Now you're scaring me.  What happened back there?"
"I know... who killed the beast Kraven is skinning." A gulp rolled down your throat upon remembering the lurid scene displaying before your eyes
"Wait... you said, who?"
A nod from you and Peter paled.
"We're not alone, that's for sure."
Peter rubbed his hands against his face, an exasperated groan escaped him.
"He's taller than Kraven."
"Bullshit." Peter mumbled almost immediate, surprised at your words.
"I'm not bullshittin' you Parker!" You had to hush your voice and soon grabbed a sketch notebook and begun tracing and drawing.
"He's freaking tall, long hair and he's naked. Well, not naked but a loincloth is everything but clothes if you think about it."
Peter frowned suspiciously as his hand pressed on your skin, to see if your body temperature had increased. Jungle fever was one of the worst things a human could suffer when away from their homeland. Cause he refused to believe anything of the nonsense that came out of your mouth was true.
A man taller than Sergei? Impossible. He was tall, but Sergei had been one of the tallest and well built men he had ever came across with.
"What are you doing?" You pushed his hands away and frowned.
"I'm sorry, I do want to believe you but.."
"I'm telling you the truth, Pete! He had... This... red hue on his eyes and fangs!"
"Fangs?" The incredulity in Peter couldn't be hidden the more he listened to your apparent rave.
"He's fucking strong, Pete. He was holding that beast by his tail! and then fought body to body against it! and He's so damn touchy. No respect for personal space!."
"And what? He smashed the jaguar to death and then kissed you?"
"Yes!" You nodded but quickly frowned when Peter tittered on his seat, unable to keep the mirth away.
"Why are you laughing?!"
"I'm sorry. You know we've been friends since college, but you seriously can't expect me to believe that, Dally."
A short for Dalhberg. The surname that put your name out in the researcher's map in London, upon discovering and naming another type of daisy and named it after you. The Dalhberg Daisy.
"You believe in the freaking Queen but refuse to believe in this?"
"I believe in the Queen's acquisitive power, nothing else. Cause I've seen it!" He explained, skeptical.
You showed him the sketch and shoved it to his hands.
"Look at that! That's exactly how he looks like!"
Peter sighed and raked over his eyes on the semi-crumpled paper sheet. Sharp features, a strong jaw and deep eyes.
"Yeah, a haircut would make him look better though." he chuckled, "Look, I know it's been a long day for us... let's rest, ok? We've got another tomorrow."
With a frown you removed the sketchbook away and tossed it on the makeshift vanity.
"He's real." you pointed at the sketchbook
"Okay, okay. He's real. We can discuss it all tomorrow when we're less tired, alright?"  He held your shoulders, trying to ease your rising anger.
But you quickly removed his hands from you, hurt that your best friend didn't believe you. "Whatever. Goodnight."
Peter left with a defeated sigh and soon you cuddled in your hammock.
"I know he's real." With a huff, you pushed the pillow closer to your face, letting the day's weight to finally crash on you.
-----
The loud bangs of a gunshot echoed through the bright blue skies, frightening any local fauna that rested comfortably, like you, that nearly fell out the hammock from the initial jumpscare.
With a heavy exhale, and rub of your eyes you geared up for the day.
This time Kraven was thoughtful enough to give you a weapon. A small knife with enough sharp to slice and dice through anything weak enough to perish under the blade.
And soon everyone gathered to the morning structions. Kraven split up the crew in three parts. The first group of men would go to the beach to recover as much equipment as they could. The second group would be in charge to set up traps and hunt down for food. And the third one, meaning Peter, you, two more men and himself would go explore and study the jungle in order to gain any sort of information of new potential species.
You carried a small backpack, filled with your sketchbook, pencils, some essay and sample tubes and some snacks in case Kraven decided to return until dinner time.
And after a quick breakfast of oatmeal and fruits, everyone left.
Peter walked behind Sergei, guiding the group whenever the mercenary asked him to. You were in the middle as the other two men trailed with their guns behind.
Morning slowly poured into hours. Tortuous, running at the speed of a snail. Each breathing felt like adding more to the waiting, bringing your nerves to a much annoyed stance.
But it quickly melted away upon finding your first discovery.
The grass laid pressed in a circular pattern on the ground. The leaves were placed strategically, as if used as cushions in great amounts. A couple of fruit carcasses laid next to them. Discarded and forgotten.
"Look at that" The excitement in your voice beyond evident. You crouched to see if there was any other clues to your growing suspicion.
Kraven and Peter stopped upon you crouching to the floor.
"What is it?" Kraven pulled his gun from it's holster and walked over you.
"These are nests!"
"Nests?" His brow quirked and you nodded vigorously, to then count the spots. Around six in total.
"You know what that means? They live in packs! Gorillas live in packs!"
"About damn time we found something." Kraven nodded, pleased as he helped you up to then mark a spot in his map.
"Good job, Dalhberg."
Praised the mercenary before moving.
--
When the sun got high enough and Peter discovered some other findings like rare minerals, the group decided to take a break nearby a lake.
The five of you sat down and ate whatever thing you got left from breakfast.
Once you were done, you took your backpack, pencil and sketchbook with you.
"Where are you going?" Kraven grumbled after gulping down the water from his canteen.
"Saw some specimens of plants Id like to register. Won't take long."
"You better return as soon as possible, understood?"
The mercenary warned and you nodded while walking away from the tree. Excited to partake in the things you were brought and paid to do.
Your first specimen was a moss plant, then a new type of orchid. A fish, some birds and more plants. Even though you studied everything alive, the plants were your speciality.
You put the little backpack in a a nearby trunk as you sat down to draw yet another orchid. The place seemed flooding with them.
Engrossed beyond wits to notice you had drifted off a bit too far from the group and a little too late a baboon sniffing and ransacking your backpack.
"H-Hey! Hey! -The baboon took the backpack away, excited and driven by the tinkling within "Get back here!"
The animal hopped on the trees before you could catch it, with graceful and effortless agility, to finally stop to a sturdy looking and serpent-like shaped trunk above the middle of a swamp.
As much as you wanted to let the monkey get away with it all, you didn't want to face Kraven's anger for losing the last bit of equipment and delay the investigation. You didn't know when the next ship would arrive. None did actually.
It's hoots and chirping only increased the more things he pulled out of your backpack. The tubs shattered as they fell off.
"Stop it!" you shrieked while hopping onto the trunk with wobbly and uneven steps.
The monkey hooted louder until it started shrieking, as if mocking you whenever your balance failed and you were forced to crawl over the top.
"God, I swear... if I catch you, I'm so making an article on how annoying you are!"
The baboon just screeched at your silly threat once more before leaving your backpack pending from a twig as he jumped way through the stretched branches that favored him like open arms, with your bag of seeds.
Your breath hitched when the trunk creaked and some cracking around the base perked up your ears.
Shit.
You couldn't stop and return crawling from where you came from, not when the backpack was oh so close to be reached and your nightmare to be over.
With a deep breath, you crawled closer and closer. Paused breaths turned controlled, but quickly grunted when the hem of your skirt stuck in a jagged branch.
"No, no" You whined and pulled away, the trunk creaked harder and you immediately hugged the trunk.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck-" with a firm yet calculated yank, you ripped the fabric away, freeing yourself although losing a good chunk of front coverage.
A thunderous crack made your breath hitch and you moved forward as the trunk stuttered midair. It was then your eyes actually considered the generous and dangerous distance from your position to the murky water. But the backpack dangling before you, edged you to take a risky decision.
Or you took the backpack and threw it on land, hoping to take the least damage as possible or jumping to that other branch to avoid falling to the water.
None of them happened as the tree dipped forward, and with a dying groan, the cracks widened, tearing the feeble base of the trunk, unable to support your weight any longer.
As in slow motion, you saw the murky water closer and closer and closer, until nothing but darkness swallowed you whole. Cold and muddy water hit you, suffocating your body with enraged water that fought hard to drown you.
Your hands were the only thing that made it out as they failed. The sub aquatic flora begun their tangling in your boots and legs, pulling you down.
Your lungs burned as some water seeped through, the backpack sunk deeper and deeper. Like a sacrifice in exchange of your life. Because a strong pair of tanned hands pulled you with a powerful yank by the forearm, out of the water before death and crocodiles owned it.
Your head too dizzy to actually understand what was happening. Your eyes could only see the landscape sliding smoothy underneath your feet, like if you were flying.
Am I dead? Dead people don't fly, do they?
You shrieked as soon as your eyes looked upwards. Powerful and solid thighs held tightly on the growing vines, that spurted from underneath the gigantic trees, as one of his hand took your arm gently to suddenly pull you up in the air and catch you in his arms.
Your instincts told you to hold onto him as the other survival mode blared with danger alarms. The massive wall of solid muscles he had for a body was warm, full of scars and plush hair that did nothing but welcome your dizzy head on his chest.
The man quirked a brow at your sudden state. He frowned and quickly got over the foliage of a tree, before the pouring rain trapped you both.
You were put with ease against the solid and definitely not rotting trunk, and your body lurched to the side to expell away the swallowed water, clearing your airways.
A firm slap from his hand made your lungs to finally get some air as you gasped and coughed, all the while he watched you curiously.
You were drenched, against a tree, clothes sticking way too intimately against your shivering body, breathing like you were a first born, raged and fast. Lungs burned less.
Eyes finally widened when recognizing the man before you. Some fresh scars littered his Greek-god type physique.
"T-Thank you." You mumbled through clattering teeth and forced yourself to take a deep inhale to control the rising anxiety.
He grunted and approached. One of his hands slid gently under your chin to take a hold of your cheek. Your head instinctively melted into his heavenly body heat, and your eyes dared to shut for a minute. Relishing in the irradiating warmth his calloused hands provided.
He's so warm.
As if sensing the good deed, the man rubbed his hands on your cold arms, mindful of the patches around your arm, a couple of times before going back up to your cheeks and neck.
You gasped as soon as his hands were placed on your chest. His hands gently palming your breast but quickly let them go upon feeling your hardened nipples. You quickly covered your chest
He watched his hands, as if inspecting them for any damage when he felt the hardened nub, to then return to your arms, prying them away from your chest.
"Wait!"
You shrieked and he took both of your wrists with one hand and hovered them above your head, squishing them against the tree, softly. His eyes raked and took in every feature of you, before stopping at your chest again.
Your breath hitched as he slid the other hand inside your shirt. Cheeks turned impossibly warmer when he took one of your breasts and pulled it out of their confinements.
He examinated the perky mound with puppy wonder-like curiosity and then looked down his own chest. He frowned. His didn't swell like yours did.
"Wh-What are you doi-" you bit your lip as he poked your nipple, sniffed it and licked it. Earning a short mewl from you.
The sound startled him and he let you go.
"T- That's not a polite thing to do!" 
You quickly put the breast back and swung your hand to slap him. You had to admit his reflexes were something else cause it caught it before it collided against his face.
"How dare you?!" You struggled to let your hand go, but stopped your outburst when his eyes watched your hands and brought them before his ever curious face.
His own hand reached up, and placed itself before yours, comparing the stretched and long digits against your smaller ones. They weren't the same size, that was much true, but the texture and lines he had were the same on yours.
His eyes shone brighter than any  bewilderment. His mind had finally clicked together at the sudden epiphany that flooded his brain.
You were like him.
He pursed his lips before letting out an excited grunt. He backed away to create enough space for his arms to move freely.
He pointed to himself and spoke with the deepest yet excited voice he could manage.
"Miguel."
Your eyes went wide and you approached. He tried again while pointing at his chest.
"Mi guel."
"Miguel." His nose flared proudly and his throat grunted happily.
"Oh! I see!"
His ears perked up upon hearing your name.
"OhIsee!" He repeated.
But you quickly corrected him, with your name as you pointed to yourself and then called his name as you pointed at him.
A buttery crawl rolled down your spine as he mumbled your name.
"Exactly." you smiled.
He cupped your face again and mumbled your name once more. However, the sound of a gunshot tearing through the skies disrupted his attention from you and stood at the edge of the branch.
"Kraven" You gasped. Completely forgetting about him and the group.
Oh no...
Trouble was a tiny word of the deep neck shit you were into. Another shot rippled through, frightening the birds in the ratio.
"Kraven!" He repeated, excited.
Extraordinary. There wasn't any word to describe him better. He took you back, trapping you in between his muscular thighs and swinging through vines.
The more you approached the camp, the clearer you saw this massive black and brown spots moving away from the settlement.
Your hearth thumped with violence upon finally standing before a small group of gorillas, sniffing and hooting softly upon seeing Miguel.
Your savior wasted no time in pulling you closer to them. You shook your head, rightfully frightened.
"No, no, no wait!"
The gorillas huffed to then sniff your head, your clothes. Some even pulled at your hair softly, others examinated the clothes you were in.
Another gunshot echoed closely this time and it was loud enough to spook out the beasts out that pulled Miguel with them. You could only watch him, wide eyed, expectant. But he left.
"Miguel..."
----
Kraven wasn't one for losing his temper with women. But you, had the annoying ability to make his patiece turn to dust in the least opportunes of moments.
"I asked you, where the fuck have you been?!"
He dragged you to the center of the crew and threw you on the floor.
"I told you, I almost drowned! Why do you think I'm like this?!"
Kraven spat a few words in his native language under his breath and grunted
"You lost your equipment, didn't you?"
"I... I tried to get it back but I almost drown in the swamp, Sergei!" you explained with nothing but the truth
"You can't swim, don't you bullshit me.!"
"I'm telling you the truth!"
"Then how you survived!?"
Peter frowned as he looked at you.
"I was saved. Ok? A man saved me!"
"A man?"
"He's... Not like us. He's taller than you and he saved me!" you kept pressing, hoping the angered mercenary understood that you didn't do anything in purpose to upset him.
"He knows how to swing through the vines! And dropped me here! His name is Miguel. "
Everyone stared with derision at you and Peter seemed concerned you stuck with your story so bad to the point of risking your own neck and reputation.
Kraven' brows furrowed into a scowl and soon he pulled his revolver out and pointed at you.
Your face turned to panic, as your hands rose shakily.
"A savage named Miguel helped you?"
"He did! Otherwise you'd still be looking for me."
Kraven snorted without removing the gun's aim from your body.
"Funny you think I'd waste my resources to look up for a stupid woman like you."
"Please, you have to believe me! I saw gorillas around the camp!"
Kraven removed the safety pin from the revolver, as if peeved you'd waste his time and resources into being an idiot and not doing your work as he required.
Time was ticking and he still had no news, and for you to be fantasizing about savages and doing stupid things such as endangering yourself had proved you weren't reliable.
"You're not reliable, anymore, Dahlberg."
"No! Sergei listen to me-"
He pointed the gun once more to you "I can't keep unreliable people within my crew."
"I'm not lying!" You pleaded with all your might and tears in your eyes, "Miguel is-"
Before Sergei could push the tip of his revolver on your head and shoot, the earth underneath rumbled, as Miguel fell in between you.
Real.
Kraven stepped back as the imaginary savage was now fully standing before him. His head had to crane up to meet his burning ember eyes.
Miguel's lips snarled at him, showing his fangs and beating his chest. A clear challenge for him to fight him.
A collective round of gasps echoed through the men, but when Miguel bared his teeth, they all pulled their guns and pointed at him
"Stop!" You yelled and quickly scrambled to your feet to take Miguel's hand and shake your head with determination.
"Don't hurt him!"
Peter immediately got himself before you and rose his arms, showing he was no armed.
"I'm sure we can reach an agreement here without filling eachother with bullets, gentlemen"
"Shut up, Parker!" Sergei seethed and with a deep flare of his nose, pointed the gun at Miguel again, but Peter grabbed the weapon and the shot tore through the air again.
"Kraven" Miguel grumbled at the gun shot sound.
Said mercenary could only watch him, nonplussed for a moment. While you, again, stood your ground before the behemoth of a man. Attempting your best at protecting him.
"Have... we met before?" Kravinoff spoke confused.
"I told you he could speak! And he is real!"
Miguel remained glued at your side. Everyone slowly put their weapons down as Kraven approached to take a proper look at Miguel, fascinated by his sheer size and build.
Peter had to admit, that it was the last time he'd ever doubt your words.
"You said you had seen gorillas?"
Again, you nodded and Miguel repeated the word.
"Miguel knows them. He could help us."
"Help us? The man barely understand us, but... It's better than nothing I suppose."
Sergei scrunched his face in confusion as Miguel took strands of your hair and sniffed them, his senses awakening in pure adrenaline. Throat grunted approvingly.
"Yeah... kind of understand the personal space thing now." Peter cleared his throat behind you. The rest kept looking to see but quickly were dismissed by their leader.
"Oh, shut up." You grumbled nervously as Miguel pulled your head to his chest once more, to listen to his powerful heartbeats.
"Yeah, it's very very nice." You chuckled nervously with a soft flush creeping your cheek.
"Nice." He repeated.
Kraven could only watch but if he was the link towards the gorillas, he'd seize the chance in every way he could.
"He's way smarter than you think."
"We're running against time, how would he understand us, Dhalberg?"
Miguel moved to inspect Kraven, mimicking his gestures effortlessly. Earning a giggle from you.
"Leave that to me."
-------
Taglist:
@yhrlocalcyprus @nommingonfood @literatiastray @call-me-nyxx @gennirose @loonalockley @danubliat @marit332 @beabfleab @l3lazeit @lililapuce @prollyanvycchi @huehuehuehuehehe @nanamiscunt @ncj2837ndjcj @leviswifey-act62 @migueloharacumslut @migshusben @freehentai @animequeen4
@del-ightfulling @angel-of-the-moons
390 notes · View notes
wh1msic4alwasab1 · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media
𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 ᯓ ᡣ𐭩
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
synopsis: you get arrested and sent to the fortress of meropide after being oblivious to a Fontainian crime, so your boyfriend Nuevi gets you out by striking a deal with the Duke, Wriothesley ;)
tags: threesome, double penetration, semi-public, vulgar, explicit
wrd cnt: 500+
a/n: repost/rewrite from first acc!
Tumblr media
You couldn't believe the circumstances you were in, who knew Fontaine had some obscure rules with loans? One overdue day and you'd have rather get strucken by a loan shark than be sitting in the Fortress of Meropide right now.
You did get one call though, and of course the most sensible person to contact right now was the Ludex, who just so happened to be your partner. He could surely get you out of here, if anyone.
It was almost a whole hour wait, as Neuvillette was in the middle of a trial, but left as urgently as he could to come get you. That wasn't the only obstacle, the most difficult was the Duke.
"I'm sorry Neuvillette, I can't bend the rules for you" the brown haired man stammered on, "as much as l've done it before...this one's out of my control. She's in the files now." He explains. "I could try but it's too risky".
You heard back and forth for some time.
After what seemed to be hours of negotiations, it seemed your boyfriend ran out of all his other ideas.
"If it's really this hard" Neuvillette said, putting a firm grasp on your thigh, pulling it open slightly, "I don't mind...sharing some of the difficulties with you, Wriothesley. You've always been one for risks."
You felt your face burn in a deep pink hue, was he really about to whore you out? In this cell?
"Wouldn't be the worst thing to happen..." You thought in your head.
"Mr Wriothesley, there must be a way we can figure this out?" You plead. Going along with your partner.
"You two...you're quite forward huh? Do I follow you clearly?" He asked, standing from his chair to approach you two while loosening his tie.
It was exactly clear, and Wriothesley was exactly right.
"This place is quite uncomfortable, I can't believe you'd subdue her to this, Duke."
"Well I'm not the one who built it you know, I just run the place."
"Well honestly we need to reevaluate, seems all too gauche." Neuvillette admitted, complaining about the bars he was pressed up against.
"S-slow down- fuck..." You breathe out, barely managing to keep your eyes open while the two men bicker while deep inside you, all too casual in such a risqué act. Your back was pressed up against Neuvi, resting your hands on his arms which held you up, cupping your ass, while Wrio held your legs up, pressing closely to your front while they both put their cocks in your wet hole.
"Aww...getting tired? I can assure you it's better than staying in here my dear" Wrio says, gripping your legs tighter as he smirks down at you "If you were to stay any longer, I'd be real hard for me to ignore you now after this..."
You hear Neuvillette scoff at his flirty remark, "treading dangerous waters now Duke, be careful" he said, a slightly threatening tone.
"Lighten up...just making some conversation." He says annoyed, tilting his head in curiosity at your face, shifting down to whisper close to you, pressing your legs against him closer in turn.
"What's your name sweetheart?" He asks. His lips brushing against your cheek.
Out of breath, you mutter it out for him, almost unnoticed over the sound of your sticky cum soaked cunt and his lower stomach slapping together. Your moans bounced off the walls in the cold dark room. You wondered if anyone could hear you.
If anyone was listening to you mewl and cry in pleasure over getting stuffed full of cock.
"Fuck...you're so tight, Y/n..." He grunts out, fucking you even harder now.
"You're being so good my love" Neuvillette speaks into your other ear, "I'm sure we'll get you out of here now" he assures, caressing your waist with his thumb as he holds you up, his cock slowly hitting the gummy spot in your pussy, completely opposite of Wrios animalistic thrusts. "Right, Wriothesley?"
"Fuck- you feel so.... Huh? Oh yeah just- don't worry hun...I'll..." Wriothesley rambles incoherently, drunk on your pussy.
Tumblr media
whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.
250 notes · View notes
emphistic · 2 days
Note
Em, lovely Em, how are you? Let me tell you I'm super proud of your progress so far <3
Soooo I'm here with a little proposition, two options for you to choose from...
1. (Low key) Princess treatment
2. Late night drive
With who else than the love of our lives SUKUNA RYOMEN!
-With love starlet★
A/N: hi hi hi, starlet, i am doing pretty good actually except for the new crack in my phone screen, but thanks for asking! and i really appreciate that — hard choice, but i choose option 2
Tumblr media
The wind rushed through the open windows and pervaded the car. Your hair blew and billowed. And Sukuna watched you through the mirror as the moonlight fell upon your face, gracing your already blessed features, and goddamn, Sukuna thought you looked absolutely ethereal in the night.
The music blasted from the car’s built-in speakers, but he had already stopped listening an hour ago, more focused on staring at you.
“You cold?” Sukuna asked, in that deep, raspy voice of his — that you had grown accustomed to after these last few weeks.
“Mhm. Just a little,” you nodded, leaning onto the head rest behind you and turning around to face the man himself. Sukuna laced his fingers through yours on the console between the both of you, a warmth fluttering in your stomach in an instant.
This whole arrangement between the two of you. . . It all happened like a blur. You guys had met through a mutual friend at a college party and had hit it off ever since. What started as innocent tutoring sessions turned to friendly hangouts. Consequently, those turned to dates, and those dates led to now: present time — where you two were in relationship. A secret one, at that.
The mutual friend was Itadori Yuuji. Let me rephrase that, he’s your friend. But not Sukuna’s, because, well, they’re brothers, actually.
You didn’t mean to hide this whole thing from Yuuji, you just didn’t know how he’d react if he found out. Would he think you two were going behind his back? Would he accuse you of using him to get with his brother? You weren’t, and you never would try to get between the Itadori brothers. It’s just . . . you felt guilty about this whole relationship thingy. You loved Sukuna, you really did. And you loved Yuuji, as a friend, of course. But, you didn’t want to cause any misunderstandings or any problems, so you and Sukuna came to an agreement about keeping this under wraps.
However, unlike you, Sukuna couldn't care less if his younger brother found out about the both of you. But choosing to respect your wishes — like the good boyfriend he was, he would keep things low key, just for you.
So, late night drives like these were one of the only opportunities the two of you had to have time to yourselves, without having to worry about any younger brother finding out.
Sukuna pulled up into an empty parking lot; you guys usually drove around for an hour or two, listening to music, before parking the car and chatting to your hearts’ desire.
“So. How was your day, baby? Anyone bother you? You don’t look too happy. Do I need to kick somebody’s ass for ya?” Sukuna turned to face you, but like always, you shied away and avoided his gaze.
“Hey, look at me when I’m talking to you.” Sukuna hooked a finger under your chin and lifted your head to meet his eyes.
“That’s better. Keep your eyes on me, pretty girl.”
You complied, though your eyes flickered between each of his, contrary to his unwavering stare.
“My day was fine. I just . . . I’ve been thinking about your brother: Yuuji, and—”
Sukuna rolled his eyes; you paused. “You’re seriously thinking about another man right now? Even when I just asked you how you were doing? Can’t believe this shit.” Sukuna scoffed, though you knew he was only joking. Or so you hoped. . .
You cheekily giggled. “C’mon, ‘Kuna. Don’t be that way.” You cupped the side of his face with your free hand; he leaned into your palm, placing a tender kiss upon it.
“Anyway, as I was saying.” You cleared your throat. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea to continue what we’re doing . . . together.”
At this, Sukuna lifted his face away from your palm, his hooded eyes staring back at yours, waiting for you to explain yourself.
“Fuck you mean this isn’t a good idea?”
“I—how would Yuuji feel if he found out? If we told him now, he would probably ask why we didn’t tell him earlier. And then what would we say? That we didn’t even plan on getting into a relationship in the first place? And we were just friends with benefits?”
“Do you want to tell him?” Sukuna pursued.
“I . . . don’t know. I mean, we were just fucking around earlier. And then we got exclusive. And . . . I thought you weren’t really looking for an actual relationship. As boyfriend and girlfriend, I mean.”
“That’s complete bull. Don’t let me catch you saying that crap ever again.” Sukuna grabbed your face in his hand when your eyes started to drift elsewhere. “You’re the only girl I would ever even think about dating. You hear me? So get that shit out of your pretty little head.”
“Okay.” You nodded. “Okay.”
“Now that’s what I like to hear. Anywho, go on. Tell me about your day. I’ve been longing to hear your voice ever since I started my shift.”
“Oh, please.”
“Deadass.”
You started to talk about your classes, your annoying professors and their annoying assignments, your lunch that took ten minutes to arrive at your door, you told Sukuna everything. Well, you were planning on that. But then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw a figure start to approach the car. Though they were still a long distance away — fortunately — they were getting closer, and Sukuna didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy listening to you speak your heart and mind.
Your eyes widened, and you shook Sukuna’s arm, as if to get his attention. Which, in that case, did nothing, really, because his undivided attention was already on you, but maybe you forgot. Silly you.
“Babe—babe, I think there’s someone in the parking lot.”
“No shit.” Sukuna let out a laugh.
“No, like, besides us. I think they’re getting closer to the car.”
Sukuna rolled his eyes, assuming your eyes were just playing a trick on you, but then he saw it. He saw what you were talking about.
There was indeed a person — a man? Perhaps so. And they were quickly approaching the vehicle. In the light of the posts, it could be detected that he was wearing nothing other than black and dark colored articles of clothing.
What the hell?
All the shops and restaurants in this area were closed, save for the 7-Eleven, but that wasn’t as relevant. There were no cops or cop cars, nothing, so who was this person? And what did they want?
“Kiss me.”
“What the what? Are you okay?”
“Damnit, always making me have to do everything these days.” Sukuna grabbed your face in his hands, squishing your cheeks together in the process, and messily slotted his lips against yours.
Your lipgloss smeared across his mouth and even added a little shine to it, but neither of you paid attention to that.
And albeit a little surprised at first, you melted in Sukuna’s hands and kissed back sooner or later. You guys moved against each other like rabid animals in heat, well—Sukuna did, you were a little more civilized than the pink-haired man. Which wasn’t a new thing.
But could you really blame Sukuna? When he tasted you against his lips, he nearly went feral right then and there. You were as sweet as the day you guys first indulged in something like this together. The real reason he started calling you ‘sweet thing’ in the first place.
While trying to catch your breath, you murmured against his lips, not yet pulling away, “Is he—is he gone now?”
You felt Sukuna smile against your lips, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards.
“Been. Been gone, sweetheart. For probably a few minutes now. Coward turned into a straight pussy. I saw his face; he looked ‘bout ready to piss himself when I shoved my tongue in.”
You pulled away — emitting a disappointed groan from the man — to fix your messy hair and overall disheveled appearance altogether, before moving to wipe the remnants of lipgloss off Sukuna’s face. He, in turn, only pushed back his hair, not really caring about how he looked on the outside.
Let people know, let people know he just made out with his favorite girl. If he really felt like it, he would even make a full PSA for the world to see.
“So. . . You still want to stop this thing between us?”
“Oh, shut up.” You delivered a light slap to his arm, before attempting to stifle your growing grin.
Taglist: @beyond-your-stars @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @taiyakii @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside
151 notes · View notes
underacalicosky · 3 days
Text
Don't mind me, I'm just having thoughts about OWK and wondering what would've happened if Obi-Wan hadn't lit his lightsaber...
With a half dozen steps between them, Vader stops. He pulls back his shoulders, straightening his spine, relishing in the fact that he was much taller now.
“Have you come to destroy me, Obi-Wan?”
His old Master unclips the lightsaber from his belt and studies him, eyes unblinking as they scan him head to toe and back up to the expressionless black mask.
He doesn’t wait for a response. Vader ignites his meticulously constructed lightsaber, the red blade casting a crimson glow on them.
Ripples of anger, seething with the need for revenge, swirl around Vader. Then, he feels a familiar touch, a gentle poke at the scab where their bond used to be. It’s tentative. Questioning. A hint of disbelief.
Is it really you?
“Does that suit keep you warm?”
There isn’t in any malice. It’s not a taunt. He isn’t ridiculing the chamber that serves as Vader’s life support.
The violence swirling in the Force comes to a stand still.
“What?” Vader barks.
“You always found space to be too cold,” Obi-Wan says gently, a wistful expression on his aged features.
His voice is full of genuine concern and it washes over Vader, wrapping around him like the warmth of his Master’s Jedi robe whenever he shivered as they traveled through hyperspace.
“What are you doing?” Vader demands and points his blade at Obi-Wan. “Is this a game to you?”
But he’s unable to stop the way his heart stirs at the memory of Obi-Wan’s hands arranging the robe over his shoulders. Fixing the collar so that it fit snugly around Anakin’s neck to keep out the cool draft. Smiling at him fondly as his eyes crinkled at the corners.
Those same eyes stared back at him now, brimming with unshed tears.
“Anakin,” he breathes, broken and hurt. Guilt rolling off him. “I’m sorry, Anakin. For all of it.”
With bitter resentment, Vader realizes how that voice still has a grip around his heart. He’s lost count of how many times he’s had to stop himself from allowing these types of feelings from invading his consciousness. Overwhelmed with sentimentality and yearning for a happiness that was in the past and forever out of reach, he’d respond to those thoughts with rage and anger, letting it fester, and allowed it fuel his hate.
Vader tries to summon that rage now, but his breath shakes with his lack of conviction. He reaches again, and the hate slips away from him.
“Your beard is unkempt,” Vader says.
A tear rolls down Obi-Wan’s face.
The last time Anakin saw him cry was on the first year anniversary after Qui-Gon’s death. His Master was sitting in his meditation pose on the floor, bathed in the sunlight that poured into their shared quarters. In his hands, Obi-Wan cradled his river stone, unaware that Anakin was behind him watching and listening silently while his Master humbly asked for strength. For clarity. For assurance that he was worthy of the responsibility to train Anakin. When Obi-Wan had finally turned and saw his Padawan, he’d swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand and smiled before suggesting that they get pancakes at Dex’s.
“Look at you. Do you wear socks?,” Obi-Wan retorts. “I bet if you do, you’re still leaving them balled up on the floor, waiting for someone to pick up after you.”
At that—at the sheer audacity and gall that only Obi-Wan was capable of—Vader chuckles and it comes out a like wheeze. The sound is foreign. When was the last time he laughed?
“You’re pathetic, old man.” There’s a bite to his tone, but he extinguishes his Sith blade and watches as Obi-Wan clips his own lightsaber onto his belt.
Something tugs at Anakin, at his heart, at the tattered remnants of their bond. It pulls at him, beckoning him to surrender to the comfort and safety of a long-lost brown robe.
It’s a trick, he thinks. A distraction. A trap.
“You’re one to talk,” Obi-Wan scoffs with a sniffle.
They stand in silence as their Force signatures wrap around each other, golden waves twining and hugging.
Finally, Anakin lets go. His sob is a distorted, staticky grunt.
“Where will we go?” he asks.
“I haven’t the slightest clue,” Obi-Wan confesses and extends his hand.
With a gasp, Anakin reaches for it and clings to the hope blooming in his chest for the first time in a decade.
120 notes · View notes
salaimoi · 1 day
Text
first story from my new, ongoing series: talk to me nice. feel free to leave any constructive criticism! (I can handle it, unlike Gojo)
Tumblr media
"Look, I didn't ask for your stupid advice, so don't pretend like you know everything."
Gojo hissed at you, nearly popping a vein from how smug you were being right now.
The only thing you suggested was that he stop dressing like somebody’s grandpa all the time – he had a physique carved by the gods themselves, why not put it to use? Such a waste, honestly.
"Mm~ whatever. So sassy," you replied, followed by an eye roll violent enough to nearly cause your eyes to fall clean off your skull. “Ever heard of constructive criticism?”
"Yeah, yeah. You know, instead of just giving me advice all the time, why don't you compliment me for once? You know, say something nice about me — it's not that hard. "
"Me? Compliment you? Gojo please. Unless you wire me every single yen in your bank account, you won't hear a single praise come out of this mouth.”
Even though he himself felt very frustrated right now, he couldn't stop himself from enjoying the banter – so much so that he would begin to grin as he tried to control himself from bursting out laughing. You were playing a dangerous game here because he could actually make this deal happen, and you were perfectly aware of that — but despite that, you were still trying to push his buttons and he’d make you eat your words because of it.
"You know what, I think I will actually do just that. So let me ask you, what happens when I send over every yen in my bank account, will you genuinely compliment yours truly?" he smirks in that usual arrogant manner, growing more and more interested by the second. "I better get my money’s worth, you know."
Still thinking he was bluffing, you replied, "Obviously. But you only get one compliment."
"Humm~ fine, and it better be the most heart shattering compliment in the history of compliments — soul crushing even. Now, I'll go ahead and transfer you the money," he paused for a moment before remembering something rather important. 
"I need your bank account number to wire the money."
"W-wait … you're not serious are you?”
"Why would I lie? I’m serious about this and you'll also be serious about your part, got it? So I need that bank account number now."
"Are you insane!? I was only kidding, genius!"
"Maybe I am, but I'm doing this because I really want your compliment. So don't try to discourage me because for every minute we spend arguing here, I'm losing my patience.”
And it wasn’t like he needed your flattery; he just wanted to hear you sing his praises as a contrast to your usual behavior. You were always so cold and apathetic around him, but he knew that wasn’t the real you — and he took it upon himself to reveal the side you buried under that stoic facade. 
“So just tell me your bank account number and I'm going to transfer the money to your account right now — the full 59 billion."
Your body froze in utter shock as you realized he was dead serious. Straightening yourself on the mattress, your mouth hung wide open — staring at him in disbelief. The realization of it all was enough to cause one of your eyes to twitch in perplexity.
"Gojo you must've lost your mind if you think I'm gonna accept that,” you scoffed at how insufferable he really was, but secretly loving every second of it. "Who in their right mind would spend ¥59 billion on one compliment?"
"Only people who can afford it, of course,” he smirks cynically, tossing his phone up into the air just for it to land right back onto his palm. “If you ask me, ¥59 billion is too small a price for a compliment directly out of that pretty mouth of yours.” 
“You’re insufferable. For fucks sake, you should have a mental disorder named after you.”
“But you can't actually deny that I'm pretty charming, can you? You might not show a hint of  affection, but I think it's pretty obvious that you like my insufferable attitude. Or are you gonna deny that you don't?"
He unlocked his phone, opening the banking app and going into the transfer section.
You didn’t hesitate to smack the phone out of his hand, causing it to fall down on the bed. 
"Satoru, are you even listening to me!!??"
"Heh~ you're actually quite impressive when you finally get serious. You were really quick there with that tiny hand of yours.”
“This tiny hand of mine will be enclosing around your neck until you’re out of oxygen if you continue to act like an unsupervised child with access to money.”
His expression was thoughtful for a few seconds before he pointed at you, flashing his pearly whites.
"You know, you're actually pretty attractive when you get all aggressive like that. It really looks cute on you. I don't know if I can actually handle someone who's this much of a pain in the ass but still has a cute side to her."
He chortles, leaning back on the headboard before continuing, "See? That’s how you compliment someone, wasn’t that hard now was it? Now you do it.”
Your eyes narrow, two fingers rubbing at your temples as you contemplate the situation.
"You know what. Fine. If you want to recklessly spend your money like this, I'll give you what you want. No comment until I see that money in my bank account, though."
This reply made him burst out laughing, his grin becoming a bit bigger and he began to speak with a playful tone.
"Alright, if you say so. But just remember, it'll be too late to back out after I've already sent the money…”
[One new notification: direct deposit from Gojo Satoru received. New balance: ¥59,000,000,000.024.]
"..."
“Don’t you have anything to say?”
"...you have nice eyes?"
"..."
"..."
“I want a refund right this instant, y/n.”
68 notes · View notes
strawberrylabs · 3 days
Text
Thinking about early morning train rides with modern Genshin characters..... (Inspired by my commute to and from places in Melbourne)
Xiao, the ever early riser who's already got a drink in a travel cup for you.
The short walk in the crisp morning air to the station near your apartment before standing on the packed train, huddled close to each other as you hold on.
The ride to your university is only a few short minutes, but it's minutes of bliss. The idle chatter of high schoolers around you, the sun pouring through the crowded train, and Xiao's hand on the small of your back.
He grabs your hand when it's your stop, pulling you through the people and off the train, as if you wouldn't make it through the doors if he wasn't holding you, despite having made the trip dozens of times.
Not many words are spoken during the journey, but more than enough things are said in the way you huh before parting for class.
...
Freminet, who wakes up on time to get ready for the long train ride home, but doesn't want to get out of bed with you.
You'd spent the night in the city, and now had to catch the early train home.
Being a cold morning, neither want to leave the comfort of the bed, warmed by two bodies sleeping there the night before.
The playlist that got set as your alarm continues to cycle through songs, your liked playlist being a mix of all sorts.
When you finally get up it's a rush to the station, tea half finished and toast messily eaten.
Once finally on the train, Freminet lets out a sigh and leans on you. It was a long ride back home. At least the morning sun on Freminet's gold hair and freckled face was a sight you never bore of.
...
Furina always acted like using public transport didn't make her anxious, but in reality she planned your entire trip as well as a back up the week before.
So when she double checks and sees trains are being replaced by coaches after 9am, she panics.
You have to catch a metro train from your current location at 8:05 to the main station which gets in at 8:18 in time for the last regional train at 8:35.
You could only chuckle as Furina fusses on the metro, convinced you're somehow going to miss the next train..
It doesn't help that the train is late by 5 minutes.
When you're both finally on the regional train home, she relaxes into her window seat.
Despite the residual panic on her face, you couldn't deny she looked stunning contrasted against the view of the city in the morning light.
-----
All of these are inspired by what happened to me... This morning. I'm writing this on the train right now LMAO
- Strawberry 🍓
67 notes · View notes
avonne-writes · 14 hours
Note
YOU ARE A GENIUS. I’ve been reading the new chapters of Reverie as you update it, but it’s been a while since I’ve read the first few chapters. So I’m going back to reread from the beginning right now and am losing my mind over the parallels.
First of all, I forgot that the literal opening scene was Buck burning their dreamscape 😭 but we had NO idea what was coming.
Then, we’ve gone from “She'd always like his jokes and would never cry, because Bucky hated the sound of sniffling” to —> Buck sniffling being the best sound Bucky’s ever heard because it means he’s alive and breathing.
I’m sure I’m gonna find so many more of these tidbits as I continue my reread, so I’m very excited!! <3
Thank you so much, dear! ❤️ I'm glad you're rereading the beginning and finding all these connections with the later chapters. It made me really happy that you found them!
You can also see that I already talked about the possibility of the connection being shut down in the first chapter. Another parallel between chapter 1 and chapter 7 is their first time dreamwalking and their first time since Gale was shot down:
Chapter 1:
Bucky woke up immediately. Sitting up in his bed, he shivered as cold sweat dried on his neck. He tried to calm his erratic breathing while his mind was racing with the realization - he had dreamwalked. He did it! He had given up on it so long before that he couldn't believe that it finally happened. He had pushed into his soulmate's dream and found him. He had a soulmate! A spark of joy burst in his chest. He barked a laugh, felt it spread in his heart like honey. But a moment later, the feeling gave way to sudden, overwhelming disappointment.
Chapter 7:
Bucky wakes up with a gasp.
Around him, the night is gloomy and cold, but in his chest, a spark of joy bursts. He barks a laugh, feels it spread in his heart like honey. His soulmate isn’t dead. He’s okay, he’s alive, and he dreamwalked again. He tore that barrier down and came to Bucky. It’s like their first night, but no disappointment follows - only pure joy.
And Gale even references their very first time dreamwalking.
Chapter 1:
The boy stood up and gave him a once-over. He hummed. “I could take you in a fight.” That made Bucky laugh out loud. “Sure, buddy.” Something in his demeanor seemed to have put his soulmate more at ease. He smiled. “Are you gonna stick around this time?”
Chapter 7:
Tear tracks draw clean lines in the dirt on his face. Down from his red-rimmed eyes to the too-sharp, thin lines of his jaw, and his lip trembles. His blue eyes look like water when they meet Bucky's. “Are you gonna stick around this time?” He tries to joke, and Bucky huffs a wet laugh as he rushes to him and crashes into the circle of his waiting arms.
39 notes · View notes
call-me-copycat · 16 hours
Text
Love Knows No Bounds
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
➤ Welcome - Introduction and Request Rules (Requests are open + Some info about me)
▶ Characters: Yandere Dadzawa & Daughter Reader [Platonic]
▶ Genre: Kind of fluffy + Yandere themes
▶ Summary: Aizawa's never really taken a liking to kids. But you keep finding him somehow, and he wonders why he's now constantly worrying about you. He decides you're the only exception he'll make.
▶ Word Count: 4547
▶ Warnings:
This is yandere, so there's bound to be a slightly unhealthy mindset
Aizawa's not a creep, I promise
Implications of deaths of citizens
Graphic description of those citizens fear before said deaths
Mention of slight stalking
I'm not too great at writing Yandere, so it's not too bad
Tumblr media
You were impossible to ignore.
Aizawa's first meeting with you wasn't exactly conventional. You were paddle boating around the recently melted lake, which was still cold enough to have small chunks of ice still floating around. The surrounding park was busy with people, all enjoying the evening weather right before the sun went down.
Aizawa was just trying to take a walk, he wasn't even on the clock. But when disaster calls, he has to be the one to always answer.
Something must've caught the bottom of your boat, because before you knew it you were engulfed in icy water. Your limbs locked up, and all the breath in your lungs immediately went out.
He was the first one into the lake, pulling you out and onto the grass where it was safe. Before you could grasp your bearings, he was already gone. You only caught a glimpse of the man that had rescued you.
Aizawa, on the other hand, was slightly annoyed with you, seeing as he had to make his walk all the way home in soggy clothing with a chill digging into his bones.
But he didn't care. You were an empty face in a faceless crowd.
Until you appeared again.
The weather was still slightly chilly, but it didn't deter you as you set off for school. You walked down your normal path you'd take, only to see a large dog waiting for you at the end of the path. It was chained, but it was blocking the area - most likely waiting for its owner to come back. You didn't have time for that.
Ultimately, the best decision for you was to go around. To take a slight detour. You were never allowed to walk in strange areas, and you knew your parents would have a fit if you were found out.
Approaching the new area with caution, you sped your way through the neighborhood with ease as it wasn't too different from yours.
A glimpse was what caught you off guard.
Passing by an apartment complex, you initially didn't think much of it. You peeked into the parking lot, only to see the back head of a man getting into his car. He was placing something into the back seat, and you watched curiously as he shut the door and turned to get into the front.
Your eyes widened at the exact moment when you saw his face, remembering the blurry outline of the man that rescued you. Quickly, you calculated how much time you had left before school, eventually coming to a decision as you swiftly made your way over to him.
Your walk turned to a run as you watched him get into his car and turn his key. Your bag rapidly beat against your back as you heavily panted, ending up haphazardly behind his car just as he began to back up.
The car instantly halted with a screech, the back lights blaring as you stood frozen in place.
Aizawa heatedly opened the car door, scowling at the blatant disregard you had for your safety. Before you could react, he was already on you.
"Are you not watching where you're going? Do you not know what would've happened if I didn't react in time?" He snapped, not having much patience with random kids so early in the morning.
You stood there awkwardly as you fiddled with your school uniform, not realizing why you had wanted to reach out to him. Looking at the ground, you evaded his angry glare as you thought about what you had wanted to say to him.
Aizawa's expression softened as you avoided his eyes, realizing he was being a bit too harsh on you. He knew he needed to be stern, but he often got scolded by Mic And Midnight for being too harsh at times. Realizing his behavior, he steeled himself by taking a breath and kneeling down to your level.
"Look..." He started, placing a hand on your shoulder, "You just need to make sure you're aware of your surroundings, I don't want you getting hurt because of someone else's actions. "
Looking up at him with determination, you gripped the bottom of your shirt as you exclaimed, "You...! You're the one who helped me in the lake, right?"
His eyes widened for a second as he thought back to it, realizing that you were the kid he helped out at that moment. He never had someone remember him helping them out, often due to his hidden nature to keep his face out of public view. He would simply do his job and leave. If anything, it was to be expected to not get anything out of it.
Aizawa wasn't sure how you did it, but you somehow managed to find him and mustered up the confidence to thank him. He now saw you as who you were, a kid with a name and face instead of being one of the many blurs in the background.
Still at knee level, he rubbed the back of his neck, "I am," curious, he had to ask you, "Would you mind telling me how exactly you were able to find me here? "
You excitedly nodded your head with a smile as you recalled the issue with the dog and your regular path to school, and how even though your parents didn't like you taking new paths that you didn't have a choice, and to please not tell them or else you'd get in trouble -
Immediately, you remembered about school, and instantly realized that if you didn't hurry then you'd be late, Aizawa quickly catching on to your unease.
"I need to..." You started, beginning to walk away as you nervously pointed out towards the sidewalk from which you came.
"How long does it take you to get to school?" You only answered with a shrug, Aizawa sighing in response. He was caught in a rock and a hard place now.
On one hand, he could just leave you and drive to UA as normal, but deal with the guilt of being the cause of your tardiness. On the other hand, he could offer you a ride, but at the expense of getting in trouble and being seen as a creep. A young girl getting into a random man's car with no knowledge of who he was wasn't the brightest idea when it came to evading public attention. With his looks and mysterious reputation, he already got a few odd looks from passerbys as he spoke to you.
Who were you, and how were you already able to worm yourself into his life?
-
Helping a random kid get to school was definitely not on his itinerary for the day, yet here he was.
"Are you buckled?"
Nodding cheerfully, you hummed in acknowledgement, oblivious to the heavy dread that settled in Aizawa. He had given in as you looked up at him with worry in your eyes, but he brushed it off as a one time thing. He'd only give in this once.
You weren't very good at giving directions, he realized. After too many U-turns and 'wait a minute!'s, he was ready to get out a map instead.
Finally, you arrived at your school with a few minutes to spare. You happily hopped out of the car, turning around and waving at him with a large smile on your face as you walked inside. After you disappeared from his sight, Aizawa meekly gave a little wave. It felt nice, in a way, helping out someone new.
Although, on the other side he was extremely irritated at your lack of awareness as you were ready to hitch a ride with what was a random stranger. He might have slightly scolded you on stranger danger on your way to school, but you didn't mind too much.
He thought that was that, and that he wouldn't see you again. But you were always there, ready to budge your way into his day once more.
The sun was setting, with only a few strands of light clinging onto the ground as Aizawa took a small walk to the convenience store. The air was cool, and the path was near empty as people began leaving before dark. Perfect for a night dweller such as him.
It was only when he saw a familiar figure that he stopped in his tracks.
You were wheeling a bicycle alongside you, wearing casual street clothes now. Why, he wondered, were you out at this time? Yes, it wasn't that late since the sun barely went down, but it was dark. Much too dark for a kid such as you to be out by herself.
"Oh! It's you again!" You greeted him before he could even fully see you, just as happy as you were before.
"It's late. Why are you out here?" His voice was stern, but still carried an undertone of carrying.
You laughed, already having realized that this man wasn't as scary as he seemed on the outside. You had quickly grew comfortable around him, despite how annoyed he seemed every time he saw you.
"My bike broke, so I'm walking," looking around, you noticed the early time, "besides, it's not too late, I've been out later than this."
His eye twitched. You were so comfortable, smiling and ignorant of any danger or threats that were possible. How you survived this long was well beyond him.
"Still-" Heaving another breath, he swallowed any objections and changed the subject, "What's wrong with your bike? "
You looked down at it, gently nudging it to the side and back, "I think the chain popped, though I could be wrong..."
Aizawa knew nothing about bikes. He only rode a few times as a kid and sometimes as a teen when he didn't have a ride. Still, he lowered himself to inspect your bike. Upon further examination, he did discover the chain, broken.
That night he escorted you home, carrying your bike for you since you were hauling it beside you 'too slowly'.
-
Aizawa nudged open his front door with his foot, convenient store bags in hand. Putting them down on his kitchen table, he took a moment and silently looked at the ground, wondering just why he was constantly fretting over you.
Perhaps it was because of how ignorant you were? Maybe it was just something he picked up when training to be a hero? He had no clue. He wasn't even a kid person, his own students were already pushing his patience a little thinner each day.
Every time he saw you, he got to know a little more about you. Each meeting gave him a puzzle piece, and a picture of who you were was slowly forming with each occurrence.
He began seeing you more often, whether it was due to random chance or by choice, he didn't care.
Waking beside you as you got off school while you told him all the things you learned, running into him at the grocery store and trying to convince him to get your favorite pudding, showing up at his doorstep with a small basket of berries you picked from the town garden...
Sooner than he would've cared for, Aizawa noticed that he began to like having you by his side. Your company was like a breath of fresh air in his lungs, your happy mood constantly keeping him from getting too sour.
It was new, and it was... Pleasant.
-
"Aizawaaa-San!"
Your voice greeted him just like every other time he met you, and he cracked a small smile upon hearing it.
Your were a bit of a distance away, but he stopped in place to allow you to run up to him. You somehow found him once again, taking a walk along the harbor where the boats were docked. It seemed like a game at this point, one you always seemed to win.
"Guess what?!"
Ever so excited, you seemed to be practically buzzing with enthusiasm.
He cocked an eyebrow, putting his hands in his pockets as you strolled next to him, "What is it? Going somewhere, I suppose? "
Your laugh rang in his ears, a sound he couldn't get enough of. He was just happy that you were happy, after all.
"Yes! My parents and I are going to visit Tokyo!" You put your hands on your cheeks, gushing, "It's going to be so fun, the city always has the most to do!"
Ah, Tokyo. It was a nice city, but cities always seemed to bring trouble. As everyone knew, the more populated an area, the more villains littered the place. Suddenly, it seemed that the air of amusement deflated from him.
"Just... Be sure to be careful please. "
You took notice of his sudden mood change, confused as to why he wasn't happy about your trip.
"Of course I will! But..." You tilted your head a bit, "Are you okay? You don't seem very happy today"
Taking notice of your worry, Aizawa quickly put on a weak reassuring smile. Putting a hand on your head, he comforted you, "Don't worry about it, just promise to tell me all about your trip when you get back"
You looked up at him, eyes filled with confidence as you hummed in acknowledgement.
-
Why was he here? Has he actually lost his mind?
That's all that rolled through Aizawa's mind as he scrolled through train stations you'd be passing by. He just needed to be sure that the ride will be safe. He didn't need to go all the way to Tokyo, but just far enough so that he could reassure his frantic mind.
Yes, he understood how freaky he was being. But for some reason, you triggered some odd emotion deep in his brain that made it so he couldn't not worry about you. The world was rough and sharp, he's seen lots of villains that couldn't care less about tearing a small girl to shreds...
A shudder ran through his spine, and Aizawa quickly ejected the thought from his mind before he could go any more crazy.
-
The rain was uncomfortable, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. All Aizawa could do was circle around the nearby stations then let you truly go to explore further.
Without him.
It left an odd taste in his mouth.
The train passed by, rumbling the station and the people around it, and he watched as it rode further and further away . . . carrying you with it. Of course you'd come back, it was only a trip. But what would he do if you didn't? What if your parents decided to move to Tokyo? What if you got into an accident?
It was then that he realized how silent his life would be without you in it. You were the colors dotting his gray life.
Taking a deep breath, he decided to drive around to calm himself, his nerves making him more jumpy than he'd like.
The drive was unfortunately cut short.
He knew it. Aizawa knew something was bound to happen.
Of course a villain shows up. He had seen the call earlier that day, but at that time they were much farther away. He realized that whoever the heroes were chasing must've been fast.
He was also quite large.
A massive villain, made of rock was being propelled by what seemed like self-made wings was near-cornered by a good amount of heroes going after him. And when a villain gets trapped they tend to do one of two things: they either (1) Lose any sense of logic in their mind and make stupid last-minute decisions, or (2) Get extremely violent as they know their time is up and that they have nothing to lose.
This villain seemed to be leaning towards the first point, as his flying began to get more and more erratic, frantically trying to find a way out through the numerous towering buildings with a multitude of heroes on his tail.
It was an unfortunate timing of events.
It felt as though time froze for a split second. Aizawa had never felt as powerless as he did in that moment. He could only watch in horror as the villain slammed into the train tracks with a deafening thud, knocking away a good portion of the tracks that sat high above the ocean.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
(Like a combination of these two ^⁠_⁠^)
Huge chunks of rubble slowly collapsed down and into the dark waters that rushed at the bottom of the tracks, down to the point where they couldn't be seen anymore. The metal pieces of the tracks sat sticking out of the remaining ends, bent and distorted.
Whipping his head where your train was coming, Aizawa felt as though his heart was about to overflow and explode to pieces right in his chest. He felt hollow, and everything began to swirl as he watched the train skid in an attempt to stop.
Unfortunately the train was too heavy to stop all at once, causing it to skid over the tracks with a shrieking screech as metal collided with metal.
Sparks flew from the wheels as the train bolted in the direction of the collapsed tracks, threatening to hurl itself over and into the roaring waters below. Surrounding citizens were ushered out of the area for their safety, but those remaining sat and watched tensely, often screaming out in worry and horror at the sight before them.
Aizawa immediately halted his car and tore out into your direction while leaving it where it sat, uncaring for anything that blocked his way from getting to you. He held his scarf that once sat in his passenger seat haphazardly in his arms, struggling to get the heavy metal properly around his neck while he ran.
Pure adrenaline coursed through his veins as he sprinted with all his might towards the skidding train, his eyes never leaving the sight. He knew that he wouldn't be able to make it up there on time, and he surely knew he couldn't stop a train, but he'd be damned if he sat there watching without attempting anything.
A slight burst of hope sparked within him as several strength-bound heroes rushed to the scene and teamed up to heave the train in the opposite direction to slow it's movement. It was a bit of a struggle, but the stalling of what would've been a complete massacre of a train full of civilians meant everything in that moment.
A hero in front was attempting to push his feet in front of the machine while it skidded against him, and several in the back were using an assortment of quirks in an attempt to pull it backwards.
Slowly, the train began to slow just as Aizawa made his way up to it, the train still ticking its way uncomfortably close to the edge. He hopped into the train from the roof just as the front of the train slowly ran over the edge, dangling itself over the dark waters while the back cabins sat on the crumbling tracks.
All the passengers were in a panic, and it was incredibly difficult for Aizawa to manage his way through the terrified screaming and faces full of tears, but he was determined to face the chaos in order to find you.
He knew he was breaking Heroes Code. Once you were a hero, you were expected to do your best to save every person you could, with no bias towards one and risk the lives of many others. But he just couldn't think of such a thing at that time.
His mind was in a frenzy as the passengers all started hollering and rushing towards the back of the train, and in that moment, Aizawa realized why.
The front cabin of the train was threatening to rip off from the back end, the cables slowly snapping as more and more people rushed through it.
Eventually, a horrible, dreadful silence filled the cabin as the passengers still inside the front all froze in place, terrified to make a single move.
Aizawa stood at the front of the cabin that sat on the tracks, peering down inside the cabin that dangled - straight at the petrified faces of the passengers as they looked to him for rescue.
He had to think. If he just walked in, the entire thing would collapse. But he didn't see you in any of the cabins when he started at the back, and he took a second to glance over the terrified faces, each nothing but a blur to him.
Faceless, nameless citizens.
It was then that he instantly locked eyes with you, huddled at the way front end of the train. You were gripping the top bar of the train with such force that your knuckles were white, and he could see the true look of horror on your face as you had the closest view of the water waiting to swallow you down below.
He could only assume the two adults next to you were your parents, but he wasn't focused on them. Your eyes were screaming for him. It was extremely unsettling for him, to see your usually innocent and joyful face filled with such fear.
He only had one thing on his mind. The only thing he's every thought of whenever it came to you.
To keep you safe. To protect your smile.
At this point a couple other heroes had boarded the train alongside him and began to rush the the front end of the train, intent on getting everyone out alive.
Unaware of Aizawa's selfishness.
Slowly, the cables snapped as the cabin began to lower without stopping, causing the passengers to go into another round of distress as they all could only await the inevitable.
"Eraserhead!"
Quickly, Aizawa gave a small glance behind his shoulder to the random hero calling his name, keeping you in his peripheral vision. He was a young man with thick ropes of metal unwinding from his body, keeping the secondary cabin that still sat on the tracks from falling with the front. The metal coils winded around and through the train as it gripped the machine, keeping the man stationary.
"Please! Just save who you can!"
Another hero from behind the young man added on, "There are other pros waiting below the train to catch as many passengers as they can! They can't assure they'll be able to save everyone, so please! Move whoever you can grab, and do it NOW!"
He sprung into action before the hero could even finish her sentence, darting straight in your direction. For a brief second, his eyes caught a glimpse of who your parents were, and he realized that if he put in some extra effort that he could've taken them with him.
A dark, heavy feeling filled his mind for a second, and he seemed to lose control of his normally logical mind.
Envy. Jealousy. Rage.
They too, were faceless, nameless citizens.
Unimportant.
He was rash, wrapping and hauling you up and through the cabin with his scarf, immediately pulling you into his arms as he carried you to the safer cabin. Once his scarf was free he hastily tugged a few nearby passengers into the cabin with him, an alibi, before the cabin snapped entirely and began collapsing down below.
The passengers erupted into a cacophony of shrieks and crying as they uselessly tried to make their way to the other cabin before theirs fell entirely. Aizawa caught a glimpse of your parents faces again, but he only watched as they fell with no remorse on his face.
He felt hollow, but at the same time he felt fulfilled with you in his grasp.
Looking over, he saw a couple heroes mid-flight, ready to do what they could for the falling passengers. Aizawa could only look on grimly as he understood they wouldn't be able to handle all the people left behind.
You were clinging to him as the front end of the train collapsed, and as you turned your head Aizawa covered your face with his jacket to keep you from witnessing something that a kid your age shouldn't ever have to see in their lifetime.
-
The tragedy was all over the news. Numerous heroes littered the scene as they assisted all those that they saved to the medical professionals. News reporters were constantly attempting to get a word from one of those heroes, or an image of what was left behind. A few selfish ones, hungry for a best seller, tried to get a few words in with the victims.
The train was now empty, the front cabin sitting in the waters below and the rest of the train barely lasting against the remains of the crumbling tracks.
Ambulances were wheeling out more people than they had room for, and construction heroes were already on the scene as they got ready to remove the train from the hazardous tracks.
And yet, throughout all the chaos, all Aizawa could look as was you.
You, clinging onto him for dear life. You, who almost lost that life. You, who once again was saved by him just as he did that one time in the lake.
He refused to part with you, accompanying you all the way to the closest hospital they could get you to that wasn't overcrowded. He still stayed by your side, all throughout the night as you couldn't sleep.
He was by your side as the doctors gave you one last checkup before letting you know you were ready to leave.
And he was the shoulder you cried on when you found out the news about your parents. They were just faces in the crowd, yet he was still there to assist you.
He was a hollow, empty man towards the unknown. Those without faces didn't gain any sympathy from him, they littered the background plenty.
He was there when you felt completely, awfully lost and scared. And he was the one to offer you a home. He gave you a home, safety, and unconditional love and comfort. He was simply, conveniently there, and you didn't question it.
He was there for every fear, every nightmare, and every time your felt alone.
Later on, he was the one who accompanied you to school, this time as the one to sign you up and drive you home without worry. He drove you everywhere freely, no matter where you wanted to go. No worries attached.
You reached out to him as your pillar, and for once, things flipped around as he was your beacon of light now.
Soon enough, your smile returned, and with it that laugh he so enjoyed hearing from you. You were safe, and you were happy. That was all he needed.
Now that you were his, he wouldn't risk a single thing that he thought would put you in danger.
Your laugh was purely for him to hear.
Your smile was only his to see.
Your safety was only his concern.
Constantly by your side, you both rarely parted. He wouldn't allow you to anymore, seeing what happened the last time he attempted to let you go off without him.
You couldn't have been more grateful for all he gave you. He saved you from a lonely life ahead, and he kept you safe. He was always telling you that, anyways.
But you didn't mind. Aizawa was Aizawa, and you couldn't ask for anything else. For all you knew, he was the man who always conveniently showed up to save you, the one to always lend a hand whenever you needed it.
But to you, he wasn't Aizawa anymore.
He was Dad.
And he wouldn't ever let it go any other way.
Tumblr media
Notes:
I hope this was good for a first attempt at writing Yandere! If this wasn't to your liking, send me a message through asks and I'll write another how you'd like! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و
I really liked the plot I made for this one - ̗̀ ( ˶'ᵕ'˶) ̖́-
I'm working on the other requests I've gotten, I've been getting plenty! I really appreciate every one who sent one in, I look forward to fulfilling what I can ୧꒰*´꒳`*꒱૭✧
I hope you all have a lovely day!
@jessiedead Hope you like it (⁠^⁠^⁠)
26 notes · View notes
lux-emxx · 3 days
Text
Quite self indulgent if you ask me. but i wanna cry so . ig this willl have to do
𝒾𝓉'𝓈 𝓉𝑜𝑜 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒 - marc s.
In which you finally lose your last straw with marc
paring: marc x fem!reader
wc: 1.26k
theme: angst, not really happy ending
✧˚ · . *:・゚✧*:・゚. · ˚ ✧
You were too tired to do this anymore.
You couldn’t stand it. All the excuses were too much.
“I'm sorry, but I can't tonight. I have things to do.” “The number you’ve reached is not available at this time. If you’d like to leave a message, press 1” “Can’t baby. I'll see about it tomorrow.”
The feeling of loneliness and emptiness hung around your head. It followed you like a curse. You remembered the good times. The times you spent together making a mess in the kitchen, or watching a scary movie curled up on the couch. Those times where you would go on long drives without any care for the world. Those times where only you could think of each other..
But they were all gone. The memories kept fading each and every day. There’s nothing to do about it anymore. 
-
“Marc please answer me…please”
The moon hung high in the sky as you waited anxiously to hear the phone ring. Sitting on the floor next to your bed wasn’t ideal, but it definitely beat being in a bed that didn’t feel like home anymore.
After the fifth ring the phone went dead again. No answer. The tears ran down your face as small sobs left your mouth. 
Why didn’t he call me back? Why isn’t he answering?
You decided it wasn’t worth it. You curled up onto your bed and covered yourself with the warm cozy sheets. You slowly drifted off to sleep, trying not to worry over the man you loved so deeply. You hoped you woke up the next morning with him next to you.
-
But alas that didn't happen. The bed was cold and empty as you woke up with puffy eyes. Your heart ached for him to come back. You missed him. You missed his hugs, his smile, his laugh. You missed how his presence made you feel safe. You tried calling him again and again to no avail each time.
“He’s just busy. He’ll come back.” you told yourself..
-
He didn't come back until 8 days later. 8 excruciating days of calls that weren’t returned. 8 days where texts were read but not responded to. 8 days where the sunken feeling of being alone set into your heart.
It was 3 am. You woke from your slumber to get yourself a glass of water when you heard the door open.
You turned your head to see him. The man you’d thought to be the man you could trust. The man who had your heart ever since you were with him. The man who fixed your broken heart. The man that you could never let go of.
“Where have you been, marc?” your voice trembled, already feeling your heart sink as you watched him sit into a chair.
“Mission” he replied in a monotone voice.
“You didn’t tell me. You didn’t return any of my calls. You read my texts but didn’t respond! You didn’t even leave a note! Marc i was-” you started. Your emotions piling over you.
“Get off my back will ya? I had a god awful week and all i need right now is fucking rest. I don’t need to deal with you and your stupid nagging.” he grunted, laying his head into his hand
That was it. That was the last straw.
You had spent time and time again trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. Always giving him excuses as to why he wouldn’t pick up. Always trying to forgive him when he gave you his “im sorry it won't happen again” speech. 
But it did happen. Over and over and over again..
And this was it.
You were done.
“I'm sorry you have to deal with me. I never knew that it was such a burden. I’ll go.” you said with a lump in your throat.
“Ok then. Leave. Jesus.” 
And that’s what you did. Packed a bag with your most important things and left.
-
Marc was used to waking up to the smell of your cooking. A warm meal to help him recover from the shit he’s seen. But the morning he woke up half naked on the couch, the apartment was empty. No sizzling pancakes. No distant humming coming from you. Just silence and cold.
He was confused for a minute. He walked all over the apartment looking for any traces of you. Some of your clothes were gone. Your favorite stuffed animal. Your toothbrush and toothpaste. He searched his pockets to find his phone. He opened it to find 26 messages and 29 missed calls from you. He attempted to call you, but when he put the phone to his ear, the phone operator said that the number wasn’t available anymore.
Now he was super confused. What happened?
It wasn’t until he sat down at the table did he remember the early events of that morning. How he told you to leave after you were expressing your worries to him.
Fuck.
He fucked up so bad
Fuck.
-
You got up from the couch of your best friend’s apartment when you heard a knock at the door. SHe was at work and told you to crash as long as you needed. Thankfully, today was your day off, so you spent it on a self indulgent day. 
You walked to the door in your fluffy bunny slippers and your makeup headband. You opened the door to see him.
Marc.
“Baby,” he started..
“No.” you said, closing the door. But he stopped right before it could shut.
“Please , wait, just hear me out for a sec.” he pleaded.
You decided to listen to him, already making up your mind to stand your ground no matter what.
“Look, baby, i'm so so sorry. I'm sorry for not responding to you, or-or returning your calls and not returning your calls. Im so sorry baby, i promise it will never happen again. I promise. Please please please come back to me im so sorry…”
You could tell the emotion and regret. But still. It didn’t make u0p for the pain and sorrow you’ve felt for the last few months.
“Marc listen. I loved you. I was there for you. I supported you. But you took advantage of that. I can’t keep betting on your life. I can’t keep waiting until ungodly hours in the morning. I love you but i don’t think this will change. Im sorry.”
You felt his heart sink. You felt it because so did yours.
Marc didn’t respond after that. He just turned away, heartbroken and filled with sorrow. 
What will i do… without her?
-
9 months had passed. You moved into a new apartment. You got a pet cat you named oreo. You had a very well-paying job. You had everything. You have been happy for a while now. You found joy in little things. 
You were happy
You were.
Right?
-
Marc on the other hand wasn’t doing well. His life was in shambles. He slept constantly. He didn’t listen to anyone. He stayed cooped up in your old apartment, trying to recreate the old memories with you. 
But nothing worked. He had to see you.
He had to.
It was a busy day. You had just gone shopping with your friends when you finally sat down at the food court. You got to the table a bit before them, so you were scrolling on your phone when you felt a light tap on your shoulder. You turned around to see him.
Marc.
Your marc.
“Hey” you started..
“Hey…can I talk to you?” he responded.
✧˚ · . *:・゚✧*:・゚. · ˚ ✧
welp
24 notes · View notes
avelanlorelay · 22 hours
Text
About Cardan and his mother
I was re-reading the comments on my fic Deniere Danse and most of them are against Lady Asha, which may be proof that she's just as hated by the fandom in the "parents" category as Madoc and Balekin (Or maybe it's bc of the plot I've created, sorry). So one unanimous question is: why does Cardan still allow her to stay in the brugh?
My pov: From Twk to Tpt we can see that Cardan is not as insensitive as he makes himself out to be, on the contrary, he has a lot of love to give (😭) (a side of him that probably only Nicasia had access to🙄). He's admitted to still liking his mother a little and if we look closely, that despite having a strong personality, Cardan is no longer a hateful person. After losing his entire family, he wouldn't throw out his mother, the second only person left of his blood, for bad things in the past. In Tpt we see how he's very happy with Jude and probably, thinks about the future instead of holding grudges about things from the past.
Okay, Cardan isn't the boy with the heart of stone, but why would he still like Lady Asha? Why didn't he lock her back up in the tower of oblivion like he did with Balekin? First of all it's obvious, she never committed any crime. But although the books say very little about their relationship (a shame because I've always been curious about it), I think there are some clues:
In the prologue to Tqn we see the discovery of Cardan's curse. It's said that Lady Asha doesn't seem to know how to hold a baby, but she hugs he when Eldred seems to be considering parting with the child and holds he tighter when she leaves. Perhaps she was just afraid of not having privileges, but it's the only gesture of affection we see from her.
Still in Tqn, Oriana tells Jude about Cardan's childhood:
"It wasn't as though she didn't dress him in velvets or furs; it's that she left them on until they grew ragged. Nor was it that she didn't feed him the most delectable cuts of meat and cake...."
Now, in Htkoelths, when he meets Aslog in the stables, despite being there because of her (bitch) Cardan thinks that if he called his mother she would beat Aslog up and throw her out. I found this passage strange bc Lady Asha is described as delicate and thin, yet Cardan knows that she would protect him from a much bigger and stronger woman. If he's so sure of this, has Lady Asha defended him before?
And finally, just a guess: when he travels to the mortal world in Tcp's time to save Balekin's mortal slave, Cardan travels on a giant moth owned by Lady Asha. It's said that the creature was personally tamed by her and he still remembers how, so he was probably there when it happened. Which means that perhaps Lady didn't leave him completely abandoned, there were moments that the two of them spent together, when she dressed him, fed him and perhaps took him for walks and played with him.
What does my monologue mean? That if we compare, Cardan seems to have more feelings for Lady Asha than for Eldred, because despite so many bad ones, he has good memories with her too. It's not just a blood bond.
It's sad and unfair, but Cardan has a much more forgiving heart than it seems.
There's probably something else too: guilt. If I'm not mistaken, in Twk's deleted scenes, when Lady Asha meets him to talk about Jude, it's said that Cardan didn't free her because he didn't think he had the power to, after all, Jude was the real High King.
Now, if we stop to think about it, Lady Asha had never committed a crime, (if we don't consider her to be the worst mother in the world), yet she probably spent about ten years trapped in the tower of oblivion, starving and cold, completely alone. Not even Balekin or Madoc suffered so much. Can we feel sorry for her for that? Idk, if you're a good person and can even like Madoc, that's fine, but I think it's well deserved. But not from Cardan's point of view, not least bc from his perspective it was his fault. Now, as High King, the best thing he can do to be fair is to reward her for all that time of suffering. So it's understandable that he lets her live in the palace and have everything she ever wanted.
Jude pov: I think that since she would like her mother to be alive and by her side and Cardan has that opportunity (which I would frankly pass up), she would never take it away from him, even for revenge. And like him, she's too happy to worry about the past and people who aren't worth it.
22 notes · View notes
fearandhatred · 7 days
Text
i always have to have something wrong with me at all times and there are always about fifteen different factors that could have caused that Something Wrong With Me so i can never fix it
10 notes · View notes
Text
not to be #earnest but in 2022 my only new years resolution was to write something of novel length and it still kind of blows my mind that after 5+ years of trying to get back into the habit of writing, i've now done that not only once, but twice (lets pretend for a sec that oao is finished x thank u)! there's so much more to say here too. and maybe i'll say it one day x but it's also crazy 2 think that i woke up on new years eve a year ago with the idea for wading in waist high water in mind...... and one year (and a few hours!) later :-) here we are!
17 notes · View notes
javiscigarette · 3 months
Text
Teacher's Pet
Joel Miller x virgin f!reader
Tumblr media
Summary: 25 years old, anxiety-ridden, and still a virgin, you ask your friend Joel for advice on your upcoming date. But you're more of a...hands-on learner. And he's more than happy to help. 
Warnings: PWP, unbalanced power dynamics, virgin!reader, neighbor/bff/more experienced! Joel, age gap, first kiss, virginity loss, fingering, oral (f receiving), frequent check-ins, soo much banter and Joel is a menace also so soft and sweet :')....(ends on a cliffhanger but there will be a part two I swear).
w/c: 7.7k idk what happened
a/n: I am resurfacing for your monthly reminder that I do in fact still write!! Inspiration for this came out of literally nowhere but I took it and RAN with it and I think I like it?? As always, thank you to my baby love @undrthelights for helping me with this and always listening to my rambling and for being my biggest enabler Ilysm
Part Two
my masterlist
"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever." Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck pound in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed. "A what?" "Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head.  "No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 
Tumblr media
"Seriously, Joel. Fuck off" you snap but with no bite or heat behind it. You bring the sweating bottle of beer to your lips and finish the rest of the now lukewarm liquid off in one gulp. 
"What? I just find it hard to believe that you've never even had a kiss. Didn't you go to high school? Didn't you ever get invited to a party? Didn't you go to college? College kids do the do like all the time” 
"Clearly not all the time" you mutter, a tad bitterly.
Joel raises his hands defensively and takes a sip of his own beer. "Just seems crazy is all. There's gotta be some chick or dude out there willing to take pity on you and pop your cherry."
You audibly gag at his choice of words. "I don't need a pity fuck, thanks." You stand from the couch and head over to the fridge. The bottles of cold alcohol inside are calling your name and you want something that will help soothe your nerves. You're not a big drinker, but when Joel is prying into your love life like he is now, you wish you were.
"Okay,” he starts from the living room. “Maybe I worded that wrong. What I meant to say was, there's gotta be someone out there who would be more than willing to show you a good time."
You groan and let your forehead fall against the fridge door. "That's the whole point! I came here to get advice for my date, someone who might actually be interested in me, and all you've done is make fun of me for not having fucked anyone yet. So thanks, Joel. You're a real pal."
You push away from the fridge and slam the door shut, a second beer in hand.
"Alright, alright, calm down." He says, hands in the air as if you were holding him at gunpoint as you head back to the couch. "Look, if this guy really likes you then he's not gonna care. Probably won't even be able to tell if you are or aren't."
"You think so?" You ask hopefully.
"Well, I mean, unless you're like... super bad."
Your heart drops into your stomach and you glare at him, "Joel."
"Oh come on, I'm kidding. You're not gonna be bad, okay? Just, go into it with an open mind and just relax. If he tries something you're not comfortable with or makes you feel weird, tell him. And if he gets pussy, dump his ass."
"That simple, huh?" You scoff.
"Well, yeah. You're the one who made it complicated by thinking it was a big deal."
"It is a big deal, Joel! I know nothing!
"Nothing? You ain’t ever watched porn? Jesus, I had no idea you were such a prude."
You can't stop yourself from rolling your eyes and slapping the back of your hand against his arm. He yelps and laughs, rubbing his arm.
"I've watched porn before" you retort. 
"What kind?" he asks with a wiggle of his brows.
"None of your fucking business" you respond, feeling your face heat up.
Joel's lips quirk into a shit-eating grin and you're quick to smack him again.
"Okay okay, sorry!" he says through his laughter. "So what exactly are you afraid of?"
You're not really sure how to answer. It's a combination of so many things, most of which are irrational fears and insecurities. Sure you've seen it all done before, but you're well aware that none of it is realistic. At least, not completely. And just the fact that you're freshly 25 years old without a single notch in your bedpost makes you dizzy with anxiety. It's not like you're saving yourself or anything, it's just that hook up culture has never agreed with you and there's never been an opportunity that made you feel like it was the right one. That is until now, with your cute coworker who you thought was miles out of your league asking you out on a third date. And now, the prospect of being in bed with him is looming over you like a dark cloud and the last thing you want to do is mess it up.
"I guess, I'm just afraid that he's gonna be disappointed, or I'm gonna weird him out, or I'm gonna do something wrong and embarrass myself.” Joel nods along and listens. "And if it is bad then we still have to work with each other and then what if it's awkward and everyone knows about it and then he hates me and--"
"Okay, whoa slow down there, buddy" Joel says, putting a hand on your shoulder. "One, you're overthinking this. You're literally thinking like, five steps ahead of what's actually going on. It's a date. And even if it does end up in the bedroom, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. No one's forcing you, okay? He can't. No one can."
"I know, but I want to," you reply quietly.
"Alright. Then do."
"I don't know howwww!! " you whine, flopping backwards into the couch.
Joel groans and sits up a little straighter, scrubbing a hand down his face. 
"Well, there's no magic trick, I don't have a secret sex manual I'm holding out on ya."
You sigh, shoulders sagging as you look over at him. The idea comes out of nowhere, well, not exactly from nowhere, but it pops in your head so fast that you then have to bite your tongue before the words bubbling up from your throat come tumbling out. 
It's not a bad idea, not necessarily. 
You've been good friends with Joel ever since you moved in next door last year. An unlikely pairing, a 40 year old contractor and an almost 25 year old office worker. But after offering him a six pack as part of introducing yourself to the neighbors, you'd gotten along famously. He fixes things around your house and you send him home with hot dinners and warm, gooey cookies.
 It's an easy friendship, open and honest and supportive, and Joel has never given you reason not to trust him. He's a good guy, if not a little brash, but you know deep down he means well. And it doesn't hurt that he's objectively attractive, with his tall and sturdy frame, strong, calloused hands, dark messy curls....It's not a bad idea.
It's an absolutely insane idea. 
You continue to stare at him, clenching your teeth together to hold back the question sitting on the tip of your tongue.
"What?" he says, looking back at you.
"Nothing" you mutter, eyes flicking away.
"You've got that face you make when you're about to say something really stupid, so just get it out."
You glare at him again, not enjoying the way he can read you so well.
"I wasn't gonna say anything."
"Well now you're lying."
"I'm not."
"You're doing it again!"
"Doing what?!"
"That face!"
"I'm not making a face!"
"Yes you are! Just spit it out!"
You groan and hide your face in your hands. You blame it on the one beer even though you know you’re not anywhere close to being drunk because how else would you justify what you’re about to say? You wait a moment, thinking about the weight of it but your mouth opens before you can stop yourself. 
"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever."
Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck and hear it in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed.
"A what?"
"Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head. 
"No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 
His eyes are wide, and he looks incredulous. You can't blame him, because the more time that passes between your suggestion and now, the more ridiculous the idea seems.
"I’m sorry, that was…It was stupid. Pretend I didn't say anything. Let's just watch a movie." You move to grab the remote, but Joel's hand covers yours, stopping you.
"Is that what you want?"
You look at him, searching his expression for any sign of disgust or apprehension. But all you can see is the same Joel you've known for months, patient, warm, and understanding.
"I know. I know it's stupid. But I can't get this date out of my head, Joel. It's all I can think about and the more I do, the more worried I get and I just don't want to fuck it up. And I know we're friends and this is weird and gross, but I just thought that... maybe, I could have some practice, so to speak."
He doesn't say anything. Just keeps looking at you, the panic rising in your chest the longer the silence stretches. You start to fidget, wringing your hands together in your lap.
"I'm sorry, that was way out of line" you say, moving to stand up, your skin sweaty and hot with embarrassment and your feet ready to run out the door and never come back. 
But Joel catches your wrist, gently pulling you back down to sit next to him.
"Joel" you whine, not wanting him to humiliate you any further.
"It's okay, come here."
His voice is softer than before, and his eyes are kind. You let him pull you closer, the two of you sitting knee to knee. You can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes, not with your cheeks and the tips of your ears burning like they are, but Joel doesn't push. He simply moves his hand from your wrist, sliding it into yours. His palms are rough and warm, and the simple touch alone is comforting.
"You really wanna do this?” he asks softly. You can feel his eyes boring into you. “I mean, I'm not exactly a prize winning catch. And it's not like there's a shortage of willing men out there."
You shrug and chew the inside of your lip.
"Yeah, but you're my friend and I...I trust you."
There's another pause, and you wish that you could just disappear into the couch and erase this moment from your memory.
"How drunk are you?" he asks, glancing at the beer bottle on the coffee table.
"You saw me finish one bottle. And half of another. I’m barely tipsy."
"Not drunk?”
"Nope."
"You're gonna remember this tomorrow."
"Uh huh."
"And you still want to?"
You groan for the millionth time and squeeze his hand.
"Yes I want to! Look, if you don't want to then that's fine. It was just a dumb suggestion and we can just forget this ever happened."
He hums, considering your words. His hand slips out of yours, and you think that's it, you've scared him off and washed the friendship down the drain. That you'll have to hide from him from now on, that you'll have to pack your things up and move because the mortification would be too much, and that he'll hate you, and—
His two fingers sliding under chin surprise you, and he tilts your head up. He's looking down at you with that same even expression, eyes big, soft, and warm as he slides his hand over to cup your jaw in his palm. 
"If you want to stop at any point, just say so, okay? I won't be upset and we can go back to the way things were before. Got it?"
You nod, your throat suddenly too tight to speak. His thumb sweeps over your cheekbone, the tender touch is enough to make your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this is actually happening. That your first kiss is going to be with your 40 year old menace of a neighbor. That you’re going to, how did you put it, get a sex lesson from him. His gaze flicks down to your lips and back up to your eyes and you’re positive you’re no longer able to breathe. 
"Can I kiss you?" he asks softly. You nod. 
You're sure he can hear the thumping of your heart in his own ears as he leans down. His other hand comes to rest on your hip and when his lips touch yours, a soft, tentative pressure, you're not prepared for the electricity that shoots through you.
He's barely done anything and already you feel like you're floating. Your own hands reach out to clutch his shirt, keeping him close, afraid he'll pull away and leave you cold and wanting if you don't. But he stays put, pressing himself against you, his lips working gently against yours. You follow his lead, kissing him back while trying not to overthink it.
It's nothing like the kisses in the movies or the books, where fireworks explode behind your eyelids or where your foot pops up in the air. It's far more subdued, more quiet and subtle. But the warmth that pools low in your belly and the goosebumps that erupt on your skin when his tongue slides against the seam of your lips, light and quick, makes you absolutely melt. 
He pulls back before you can really react, and you're left with a dizzying rush of both blistering desire and excruciating anxiety. You want to pull him back in and never let him go. But your heart is beating so fast you can hardly breathe, your nerves are buzzing, and the urge to run and hide is nearly paralyzing. 
"Was it bad?" you ask tentatively, cheeks heated.
"No" he replies, giving your hip a squeeze as a smirk plays on his lips. "It was fucking awful. Worst kiss of my life"
"Shut up!" you hiss, pushing him away with a hand on his chest. He laughs, the sound easing some of the tension in your body. 
"I'm just teasing" he says, voice dropping lower. "C'mere, we can work on it."
His lips find yours again, and you try not to smile into the kiss but it's hard when you can feel the way his lips are quirked up as well. It doesn’t take much else to get you to relax and let yourself fall into the moment, into the gentle press of his mouth and the warm hands on your hip and your cheek. He swipes his tongue against your lips again, his fingers pressing lightly into the hinge of your jaw to tilt your head back and coax your lips apart.
You let him, sighing as his tongue glides across yours, hot and smooth and sweet. Your hands slide up his chest, finding purchase around his shoulders, and when you move forward, pushing yourself against him, he grunts softly but lets you. He kisses you until the both of you are gasping for air, and when he pulls back, his lips are wet and red and you're certain yours must be as well.
"Better?" you ask, a bit breathless.
"Getting there" he answers with, his breath warm where it fans across your cheek. 
"You're such a liar" you say with a goofy smile.
"Yeah, I know. Now try again, practice makes perfect.” 
You roll your eyes but lean back in nonetheless. It's a bit more heated this time, the feeling of his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip making you squirm. His hand rounds over your hip, palm smoothing to the small of your back to pull you closer, the heat of his body radiating through your clothes and warming your skin. Your hands move on their own accord, no thought behind the action as they slide up to his shoulders and then his neck, your fingers finding home in the curls at the base of his skull. When you give them a slight tug, you're rewarded with a muffled grunt from Joel. Emboldened, you pull back, lips swollen and tingling.
"You’re a good kisser,” you pant. "Is that something people usually say?"
"When it’s true" he says, grinning at you. "And since I know you're gonna ask, I'd say that was a C+, maybe a B-."
You scoff but blush furiously at the smile he flashes, his eyes crinkling in the corners.
"Well then, tell me what to do next. What do I need to know?"
Joel hums as he thinks for a moment. 
"What do you want to do?"
You stare at him for a second, blinking.
"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you" you say, shaking your head a bit.
"Well, how far do you want to take this?"
You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very shy. You can’t deny that when the idea popped in your head it was accompanied by the mental image of you naked, spread out on his bed, but the actual act of asking him, or better yet, actually doing it is... intimidating to say the least. Are you really about to let him go all the way, to see you bare and vulnerable, let him pop your cherry as he would disgustingly put it? All just to “prepare” for a date with a guy who might not even like you that way?
Yeah, probably.
"All the way" you answer. “I want to go all the way” 
He doesn’t pounce on you like you expected, doesn’t press his lips against yours in a frenzied kiss that you had half hoped for. Instead, he simply looks at you, his brown eyes boring into yours, searching.
"Are you sure? You can always say no and you're not gonna lose me as a friend if this isn’t what you actually want. I don’t want you thinking that."
You can't help the laugh that bubbles up and slips out, because of course Joel, your kind, thoughtful Joel, would say that. He's a good man. A great one, even.
"Yes, I'm sure. But if you don't, I get it, I can just leave and-"
Joel laughs, the sound traveling up from deep in his chest, the rumble vibrating against you.
"Sweetheart, I wouldn't be doin’ this if I didn't want to. Just makin’ sure this is what you really want."
"I want it.” 
He squeezes your hip and swipes a thumb over your cheekbone once again. 
“Alright then.” He nods, firm and resolute, and then looks around the room. “ We’re not doing it here, though. If you're getting the full Joel Miller experience, we're gonna do it right.” 
Your eyes roll reflexively, but your heart picks up its pace regardless.
"I’m not gonna do anything if you call it that ever again."
"Fine, fine,” he relents. “Let me show you what a good, thorough fucking feels like. Better?"
Your jaw drops, and he's laughing at you, his body shaking with amusement.
"Fuck you" you grumble, shoving him away while trying to hide your coy smile. 
"Yeah, that's what I'm hoping for," he says with a wide, self-assured grin.
"I'm leaving" you declare with a false sense of offense as you rise to your feet. Joel is quick to do the same and before you can take a single step away, he slips a finger through the belt loop of your jeans and tugs you back into him, wrapping an arm around your waist.
"I’ll stop, I’ll stop. I'm sorry" he says, not sounding it one bit.
You huff, but let him pull you closer until you’re pressed against his chest and you have to tilt your head back to look at him.
"I’ll be good. I promise."
"Liar"
"Well, yeah. But I can promise that I'll make you feel good."
You can't help the giggle that spills out and he kisses it away, his lips warm and plush and sweet against yours. The hand not resting on your lower back comes up, curling around the nape of your neck and keeping you close. You sink into him, and the fog creeps in again, dulling the rest of the world, making it seem fuzzy and distant, like the memory of a dream. All you can focus on is him, the warm solid weight of him against you, the strong arms holding you, the way his mouth moves against yours. And then he’s pulling back all too soon and you have to stifle a whine.
"Come on" he says, tugging at your hand.
His bedroom is dim, the little lamp on his nightstand and the faint glow of the moon through the curtains providing the only light. You swallow and take a deep breath as you step inside, your bare toes digging into the plush carpet, his hand warm and large where it grips yours.
He holds onto you as he sits on the edge of the bed. You step forward, letting him pull you between his knees. His hands settle on your hips, and you can feel their heat through the fabric of your shirt.
He doesn’t ask if you're sure again and you’re grateful because you’re not sure if you could form any kind of response right now. Instead, he slides his hands up and under your shirt, fingers dancing across your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps. Your breath hitches as his hands smooth over your ribs and around to your back, the tips of his fingers mapping out the curve of your spine, skimming over each notch and bump. They climb higher, the fabric of your shirt bunching around his wrists. 
“Can I take this off, baby?”
Your heart jumps to your throat but you nod anyway. He grabs the hem and tugs your shirt up and and you lift your arms so he can slip it off over your head. He tosses it aside, the fabric falling to the floor beside the bed. You’re left exposed, vulnerable and bare, save for the worn out bra you wear, a few too many washes and a few years past its prime.
Your hands itch where they hang by your side with the instinct to cover yourself, hide the imperfections that you know so well, the stretch marks, the softness of your stomach, the way the cups of your bra are just a bit too small and spill over the tops.
But then he’s pressing his lips to the space just above your navel, his scruff tickling your skin and making the muscles in your abdomen jump and twitch. His hands find your waist again, and when his lips continue their path upwards, his palms follow, skimming up your sides, thumbs tracing the outline of your ribs before stopping at the band of your bra.
"This too?" he asks, voice quiet and husky.
"Yeah" you answer with a squeak, and he grins like a kid in a candy store.
His fingers undo the clasp deftness that makes your knees go weak, the straps slipping from your shoulders and the whole thing sliding down your arms, landing somewhere near your shirt. 
"God, baby, look at you" he murmurs, his hands cupping the underside of your breasts, his thumbs sweeping over the tops and then down the slope and around your nipple. Your breath hitches, the gentle touch sending a shiver up your spine. "You're fucking perfect."
The praise is unexpected and it sends a jolt of heat through your core. You whimper quietly and his hands are on you again, the calloused palms rough on the soft skin of your breasts. He kneads the flesh, squeezing gently before rolling your nipples between his fingers, pulling and pinching and teasing. 
He pulls you closer and ducks his head, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He looks up at you through his lashes, eyes dark and hooded, and his pupils blown wide with desire.
"Can I?" he asks.
"Please."
He leans in and wraps his lips around a peaked nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, the gentle heat of his mouth on your skin making your knees weak.
His mouth works on one breast, tongue flicking and teasing while his free hand continues its work on the other. Pleasure builds and coils deep inside, the sensation unfamiliar but certainly not unwelcome. You whimper and he pulls away, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before giving it a sweet parting kiss.
He turns his attention to the other, his teeth grazing over the stiff peak and drawing a whine from your lips. He sighs when your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling at the strands until he groans softly against you. He sucks your other nipple into his mouth, the flat of his tongue pressing against it and dragging up and around, swirling and flicking. You’re already breathless, panting, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on your forehead.
"Feels good, Joel," you whisper shyly. 
"I know, honey" he says, a soft smile pulling at his lips when he pulls away. "Feel good anywhere else?"
He doesn't wait for a response, simply slips a hand between your thighs, cupping you through the denim, the simple action making you squeak.
"Here, huh?" he says, the heel of his palm pressing against you.
You gasp softly and nod, biting your lip, too shy to say anything.
"Get on the bed, baby."
You comply, crawling onto the mattress and scooting backwards towards the pillows, sitting at the head of the bed as you watch him. His eyes never leave you as he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Your heart thumps as you stare at his bare chest, his tanned skin dotted with a light dusting of salt and pepper hair. He's broad, his shoulders thick and chest solid. Your fingers burn with the urge to reach out and touch him, so you do, extending a tentative, slightly shaky hand.
He watches you closely, eyes flitting down to the palm pressed against his chest before meeting yours again, his mouth curling into a smile.
"You can touch" he says, reaching down to curl a hand around your wrist and bringing it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the center of your palm before guiding your hand back down to his chest. "I think most people would enjoy that."
"You're having entirely too much fun with this,” you mumble while your fingers spread out across his pec.  
"It is fun" he counters, his own hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, thumb pressing against the seam of your jeans and rubbing up and down. "But it'll be more fun once these come off"
Your lips part, a puff of air rushing out.
"You gonna take them off?" you ask, the words slipping out, bold and unbidden.
He grins, his brow quirking up.
"Look at you, being all bossy"
"You like it" you say, finally feeling some of the anxiety slipping away, the familiar and comfortable banter between the two of you slipping into place in a new, unfamiliar situation.
His smile takes up nearly his whole face as moves closer. 
“I sure do.” 
He looms over you, bracing himself on an elbow next to your head before ducking down to kiss you, his tongue easily slipping into your mouth, warm and insistent. You sigh into it, your hands finding the warm, bare skin of his back, muscles gliding beneath your palms as you slide them up and around, fingertips digging into his shoulders. He's so warm and solid and you can't help the little noise that slips out, a soft, needy moan. You're about to break the kiss and beg him to touch you, give you something, anything, but he pulls back before you can. 
"Impatient. I like that too" he says, voice barely above a whisper.
He kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. He continues his path, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses across your collarbones and down the valley between your breasts, his beard tickling your sternum.
His palm presses into the top of your thigh, and you instinctively open your legs for him, his hand immediately moving to cup you through the denim, thick fingers pressing against the seam and the bundle of nerves just below. Your hips rock up, seeking more pressure and he grins, entirely too pleased with himself right now.
You huff, and he laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest, but he relents, undoing the button and zipper of your jeans and tugging the fabric down, revealing the pair of pink panties underneath. 
Joel sits up, pulling your jeans down your legs and letting them drop off the side of the bed, the sound of the denim hitting the floor indicating that you've officially crossed a line that neither of you can come back from. But if the hungry, desperate look on his face and the way you're practically vibrating underneath him are any indication, neither of you want to.
"I'll start with just my fingers, yeah?" he says, his hands running up the insides of your thighs, touch light and teasing, the tips of his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. You nod dumbly, at a complete loss for words right now.
He ducks his head, his lips landing on the smooth skin stretched over your hip bone. You squirm, ticklish, and he grins. His mouth is a great distraction from his hand, which has found its way back in between your legs, his fingers now pressing against damp fabric.
"Shit" he curses, his touch firm. "Fuckin' soaked already. Am I just that good?" he quips with a smirk.
"Jesus do you ever shut up" you gripe, but the effect is ruined by the whimper that escapes you when his thumb sweeps up, pressing hard against your clit. 
"Oh, that's a pretty sound" he murmurs, repeating the motion to pull out another one, your hips bucking against his hand.
"Now," he starts, his tone shifting to the same one he uses when he's about to impart some life lesson. "This guy you're gonna see, or any man for that matter, should always take care of you before himself. That's just common fuckin' sense. And if he doesn't, you send him on his way" he continues. "Because a man that don't wanna see a woman get off is no fuckin' man at all"
You're about to interrupt, tell him he's an idiot and ask him to please, please, get on with it, but his fingers sliding under the elastic of your panties, swiftly pulling them down your legs steals the breath from your lungs. Your pulse sky rockets and you shift underneath him, crossing your thighs in instinctual effort to hide yourself from him. 
"M'sorry I didn't shave or anything" you blurt out, your throat tight with anxiety and embarrassment once again 
Joel just shakes his head as he pries your legs apart.
"Baby, I could not give less of a shit about that."
"But-"
"No" he says, the word firm, an edge of command to his tone. "You’re not apologizin’ for that. And if a man gives a shit, he's a fuckin' child who doesn't deserve the honor of bein' between these thighs" he says, pushing your knees further apart.
You nod and bite your lip, the words that are just so very Joel, settling in your chest and easing the tension in your body. You let out a long, slow breath and relax, trying to ease the nervousness.
"There ya go" he says, his fingers dancing along your slit, gathering the slick pooling there. You shudder at the gentle touch, your hips rolling up just a bit before you force them back down into the mattress, trying to keep yourself still.
"Nuh-uh. None of that" he says, immediately noticing the movement. He slides his free hand under you, his palm pushing into the small of your back and encouraging you to move again, to lean into your pleasure. "You take what you want, baby. Show me how good it feels. That's all I wanna see."
You squirm and whimper, the simple, almost lazy touch driving you insane. You've touched yourself before, brought yourself over the edge while imagining what it would be like to have the things you read about and watch in videos happen to you. But you've never managed to make yourself feel this good, never felt pleasure so intense, never felt a burning pressure in your abdomen so demanding that it radiates all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes.
And he's barely touched you.
"How's that feel?"
You can't even form the words, so you just nod and hum, the sound a mix of a whimper and a moan, your hips rolling up against his palm. He chuckles, and then the pressure increases, the friction building, his fingers slipping down, collecting more of your wetness to ease the drag against your skin.
He moves his fingers down, down, down, the tip of one circling your entrance, gathering the wetness pooling there. You whine loudly, any shame and modesty you once had replaced entirely with desperate need and pure desire.
"Please, Joel" you whisper, voice shaky.
"I gotcha" he says, dipping his fingertip in, just barely, and pulling a moan from deep in your chest. "Gonna give you what you need"
You groan, a long, low sound as he slowly sinks his finger into you. It's nothing like your own, so perfectly thick and long/ And you found the spot before, the spot that he curls his finger up into, but never at this angle, never with the perfect amount of pressure that he's applying right now. 
"Mmm, look at that" he coos as you clench tightly around his finger.
"Joel, god, feels so good" you whimper pathetically. 
"I know, honey, I know."
You clench again, the cockiness and self-assured attitude that usually gets under your skin now ignites your whole body in an entirely different way. He keeps his eyes on your face, watching as your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drops open, your head tipping back as the pleasure builds.
"Another" you beg, the fullness not nearly enough.
"Greedy girl" he chides, but he pulls his finger out, and slides two back in. You swear that you could come from this alone, but he doesn't let you, the hand that was supporting your lower back disappearing, only to reappear between your thighs, his thumb circling your clit with firm, steady strokes.
White hot pleasure wraps around the base of your spine, the dual sensations of his fingers and his thumb sending you spiraling. The sounds falling from your lips are unrecognizable, high and desperate as your mind goes blissfully blank, your entire focus on the heat coiling in your abdomen. Your eyebrows pinch together and you bury your face in the pillow next to your head, trying to hide the ridiculous expression you're surely making, but you inhale the traces of his shampoo and cologne that cling to the fabric, the scent pushing you even closer to the edge. 
You try to hold back. Surely you're not supposed to come this quickly, not just from two fingers and a thumb. Surely that's a sign that you're an easy lay, or too inexperienced, or-
"Just let it happen, baby. I can feel it, Just let go" Joel says, his voice cutting through the thoughts racing through your mind, his fingers crooking inside you and dragging across the spot that makes your hips stutter and a cry fall from your lips.
You can't hold back any longer, the pleasure cresting and crashing down around you. You squeeze his fingers, your back arching, the heels of your feet digging into the mattress as you roll your hips up into his touch, seeking more and more and more. And he gives and gives and gives, working you through it and drawing it out for as long as he can before you melt into the mattress, bones and muscles liquid and warm and satisfied.
He pulls his fingers out, and the sudden emptiness draws a disappointed whine from you, his answering chuckle making you smile.
"That was- fuck" you sigh, not quite capable of coherent thought.
"Absolutely mind-blowing? Yeah I know" he teases. You roll your eyes but don't say anything because it's true, and his cocky grin fades into a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches you return to Earth. 
"Can I- can I return the favor?" you ask, your gaze flicking down to the noticeable bulge in his jeans.
He grunts and shakes his head.
"Not yet. Got somethin' else in mind."
You frown and push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he shifts from his position. You're about to ask what he's going to do until he's settling himself on his stomach between your thighs. You suck in a sharp breath as you realize exactly what he's got planned and your heart jumps, anxiety clouding your mind once again. 
He rests his cheek on your thigh, his eyes meeting yours.
"Alright?"
You swallow and nod, licking your lips.
"Yeah. Just... no one's ever-"
"Yeah, I got that much, that's why we're here" he says, smiling smugly when you glare at him. 
"But what if it's not good? Or I don't taste good? Or-"
"Stop" he says, the single word halting your runaway train of thought. "You need lessons in relaxing, not sex. You're so fucking tense all the time"
"Sorry" you say, immediately cringing.
He sighs, his breath ghosting over the skin of your inner thigh, making you shiver. "What did I say about apologizin'?" he says, his tone slightly sharp.
"I know. Sorry- shit, sorry! Fuck!"
He barks out a laugh and you huff, bringing up both hands to scrub over your face.
"See what I mean?"
"Yes, yes, you're very smart and know everything"
He hums and nips at your thigh.
"Damn right I do."
You want to snark back, but his mouth is moving, his lips trailing down the inside of your thigh and towards where you're aching for him, slick and wet and throbbing. He takes his time, laying kisses on your thighs, hips, and stomach, his scruff scraping the sensitive skin, huffing out a laugh when you start to squirm, your patience wearing thin.
His hands smooth over the soft flesh of your inner thighs, urging you to spread them wider before spreading you open with his thumbs, exposing you completely. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and the urge to close your legs and hide yourself from his gaze is overwhelming, the embarrassment making your skin burn. But before you can even think about closing them, his tongue is on you, sliding up the length of you and circling your clit. The moan that escapes you is embarrassingly loud and high pitched, but the mortification is easily swallowed up by the pleasure.
He hums against you, the sound and the feeling sending a shudder through your body. Your hands grip the pillow behind your head and you try not to buck up into his mouth, but your attempts are futile. He doesn't seem to mind though, in fact you think it spurs him on, his tongue flattening against you and lapping at you messily, the wetness he's coaxed from you smearing across his mouth and chin.
The sound is lewd and obscene, the sloppy, slick noises and the soft grunts and groans that rumble in his chest as he works you up. He pulls back, his breath coming out in pants, his chest heaving as he looks up at you, his eyes dark and hooded.
"Don't know what you were worried about" he says, his voice low and raspy. "You taste fuckin' divine"
His beard is shiny and damp, his lips glistening, hair messy from where your fingers were tangled in it. The sight of him looking so completely disheveled and filthy has you clenching around nothing, the ache almost too much to bear.
He doesn't say anything else, just ducks his head and gets back to work, his mouth moving with a renewed urgency, his hands gripping your thighs and pushing them further apart, allowing him better access.
Your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open, a constant stream of moans and whines and babbling pleas and praises falling from your lips, but you're not really sure what you're saying, not really sure of anything except the intoxicating pleasure coursing through your veins.
You hear him moan, can feel the vibration against your skin, and you glance down at him, and that's a mistake. The sight of him, his eyes closed and brows drawn together in concentration, his cheeks hollowed out as he sucks and nips and laps at you and– is he fucking grinding his hips into the mattress?
You're fucked.
A throaty moan tumbles past your lips as your hips start to rock, a rhythm forming as you chase your orgasm. His hands leave your thighs and he slides one arm up, the weight of it resting against your abdomen to keep you still while his other hand snakes down, fingers dipping inside again, finding the spot that makes you see stars.
"Fuck, Joel, please, oh my god, I'm so- please"
He groans in response, the hand on your stomach pressing down harder to meet the two fingers curling and stroking inside of you. You cry out at the increased pressure right as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bud, his fingers moving faster and faster. Flames lick up your spine and spread throughout your body, threatening to burn you alive. 
Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, knocking the wind out of you and turning your limbs to jello. Wave after wave of blinding euphoria crashes over you and all you can do is cling to the pillow and arch your back, your toes curling as he continues to work his fingers and tongue, happily letting you ride his face and grind into his mouth.
He doesn't let up, not until you're a whimpering, trembling mess, physically pushing his head away when it becomes too much. He pulls back reluctantly, a wicked grin plastered to his face, his chin and mouth absolutely soaked. You're panting, struggling to catch your breath as the aftershocks make you shiver despite the content warmth spreading throughout your entire body.You feel sated and sleepy, a bone deep satisfaction making you feel boneless. 
But as you come down from your high, rational thoughts start to filter in and you suddenly remember the reason this all started in the first place.
You're here to learn, he should be teaching you how to please a man.
How to please him. 
You watch as he gets off the bed and wipes his chin with the back of his hand. Your eyes shamelessly rake over him, the dusty pink flush that decorates his neck and chest, the curve of his belly down to the impressive bulge in his jeans. 
You push yourself up, ignoring the way your arms tremble with the effort. He looks at you, his eyes scanning your face no doubt looking for signs of distress.
"You ok?" he asks, eyebrows pinched together in his typical concerned Joel fashion.
"Yeah" you say, a little breathlessly. "But I still want to..."
Your voice trails off and you glance down at his crotch, hoping he gets the message.
"That's alright, baby. It's a lot, we don't-"
"No" you interrupt, a hint of desperation in your voice. "You said you would teach me. Please, Joel. I-I wanna learn" You hope it's a good enough cover to the fact that you really just want him, your original goal forgotten. "I just don't want to embarrass myself" you add, pouting slightly for good measure, praying to god that he can’t detect the underlying want for him and him only.
He watches you for a moment, seemingly contemplating his decision. And then his eyes narrow, because of course he knows. There's never been an instance where you succeeded in lying to this man. He always, always knows when something is off.
"Alright" he says, a slow smile spreading across his face, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. "Dick sucking class is now in session"
You groan, your face twisting with visible disgust.
"Oh my god, that was terrible."
"What? It's true" he says with a shrug.
"That is- no, no way. Never say those words ever again. Ever." you say, pointing a finger at him accusingly.
"Or what?" he challenges, taking a step towards the bed.
You gulp and lick your lips.
"Or..."
He waits expectantly for a response. You have none, so you just shake your head and look away.
"Yeah, that's what I thought"
You glare at him and then sigh.
"You're a bully"
"Am I?” He asks, taking a step back to give you more room. “ 'Cause you're the one that asked me to teach ya. On your knees, kid. Let's see whatcha got."
You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress a grin. You don't know how he does it, but his ability to make a joke or a quip out of anything always has a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, even when the jokes are awful and the puns are terrible. Even when the joke is about you getting ready to suck his dick. 
"You're a bully and a pervert" you say, sliding off the bed and sliding to your knees, the plush carpet doing a decent job at protecting your joints.
"And proud of it.”
"Pride is a sin."
"So is premarital sex, so I'll see you in hell, honey"
You snort and look up at him from your place on the floor, grinning widely.
"You're ridiculous"
"You love it"
And that's the thing, isn't it?
Because you do. You love his innate ability to make you laugh, to make you smile even when he's about to take your fucking virginity. He knows how to comfort you, how to put you at ease, when to push you with his teasing and when to pull back and let you take control. You've never met a person who has so effortlessly made their way into your heart.
And here you are, on your knees for him under the false pretense of practicing for a man who's name you can't even remember right now.
You shake your head, the motion clearing the thoughts and the emotions that were swirling in your head, the ones that make you want to stand up and kiss him, kiss him until your lips are numb and you're left gasping for air.
"Joel?" you say his name softly.
"Yeah, baby?"
"Teach me."
Tumblr media
Part 2 is already in the works I promise hehehe thank you for reading I hope u all enjoy!!
6K notes · View notes
Text
Many of the younger ccs speaking up about Wilbur's manipulation is INCREDIBLY concerning, and I don't think they'll be the last. I think it's also a big indication that it happened to Tommy too, and that he'll take a while to respond. People demanding an immediate response need to remember that he was likely a victim of it too, he just may not have been aware of it.
I mean, Wilbur's ADMITTED he relied on Tommy for his mental health when he was still a minor. That is NOT something adults should ever do and it has always been odd to me. It also makes it very hard for the minor involved to leave the friendship, since they see themselves as responsible for the older person. I don't think I need to really go into how unhealthy that sort of thing is, it isn't an uncommon occurrence and lot of people will have a better explanation than me. But it is something to keep in mind, that Tommy may feel responsible or have been groomed to excuse the behavior.
The library stream is another example of the manipulation, and I'm surprised no one is talking about it. Tommy literally talked about how uncomfortable he was at Wilbur's house. It was cold, he had no blanket, he didn't want to keep staying there, he would rather be out in public at night in a strange place. Then Wilbur just shows up out of nowhere and tells Tommy he's misremembering/being dramatic and pretty much shuts him up, gets him to stop talking shit about him. Everyone's exasperation with Tommy in the situation (being a minor alone and uncomfortable and uncertain of what to do, far from home with nowhere to go), helped Wilbur pull Tommy back in and convince him to go back to his house, especially since it was passed off as Wilbur being caring.
It was obvious to me during the stream that Tommy was telling the truth and Wilbur was the one lying, but I figured he was just being defensive because he didn't want all that online. Now we know that he had a LOT more to hide about his living situation that he didn't want being spilled, and manipulators/abusers don't tend to like it when someone goes and starts talking about the truth. They want to downplay it as much as possible, and Wilbur showing up in person to shut Tommy up and make fun of him for not wanting to stay with him, make it more lighthearted, is incredibly telling and I'm surprised I haven't seen anyone point that out.
There are so many other things I found odd throughout the years that finally have a proper explanation to them, but that's just a few examples. I'm not going to get too much further into it. Wilbur isn't who we should be focusing on, I just needed to get that out to move on from it.
I do think pointing out that Tommy has openly been manipulated is important because it may cause him to take a while to respond openly to all this while he processes. If Wilbur treated so many of his ex-friends badly it's safe to assume he did it to all of them, and we need to give everyone involved time to stop and think about the situation. A lot of people want Tommy to respond immediately, but he will need time to do that and it's only fair we give him the space to do that properly.
I also think it is so, so incredible that Shelby has given so many people the space and bravery to come forward. I believe there will be more people speaking up soon, they just need time. Support her and other victims!
5K notes · View notes
churipu · 1 month
Text
OUTFIT CHECK 𓆝 ⋆。𖦹°‧
ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, nanami kento, iatdori yuuji x reader
ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. jjk men being in love with you.
note. i'm back! i managed to fit in writing this in the middle of my midterms, i just finished my qualitative research paper for the midterms and i have 3 more take home exams to do. i hope you like this piece <33
Tumblr media
𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
you stood in front of the mirror, shifting your body from side to side, eying your reflection from different angles. raising a brow, you heaved out a soft sigh — before eventually twirling to face gojo who had been sitting on the edge of the bed. his icy blue eyes had been gazing at you for as long as you've been standing in front of the mirror against your reflection.
"'toru, do you think i look—"
gojo hushes you, putting a finger onto your lips, shutting you up immediately, "no, you don't look bad, and no your outfit doesn't look weird. you look beautiful," he rattles with a small smile.
"but i just feel like something's wrong with my combination," you said, stepping back to disperse from his finger, "like something's out of place. i just don't know what . . ."
gojo slipped an arm across your shoulder, turning your body to face your reflection, "i don't see anything wrong with your outfit or you, baby — you're really pretty . . . and i look pretty amazing too," he winked cheekily at the mirror, kissing the side of your face.
the male had been sitting on the edge of the bed, paying attention to you analyzing your own outfit for the past fifteen minutes. twirling here and there, stepping backwards and forwards cluelessly. the male didn't see anything wrong with your outfit or you, in fact, you looked absolutely stunning in his point of view.
his comment made you break a small smile.
"is this top too revealing?" you turn your back to the mirror, revealing a slight peek at your fragrant s/c skin.
"baby, baby," he scoffs, "i'm the strongest, i can fight, you know? and you look beautiful in that top, you should wear it often, yeah?" his slender fingers grazes over your exposed skin gently, sending shivers down your spine.
a string of laughter escaped your throat, "i love you, you know that?"
the male leaned in and pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, "i love you more. no complaints."
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎
"do you think the top suits the bottom?" you asked nanami after changing into your third pants of the day — brows furrowed in frustration as nothing seemed to be clicking.
nanami raised his eyes from the book he had in his grasp, "you look beautiful," he complimented yet again for the third time.
"kento, how am i supposed to pick an outfit when you keep complimenting them all? help me pick one, will you?" nanami didn't understand why you were insistent on the 'mismatched' outfit (at least you think it is).
but in his eyes, everything seemed well-matched. he'd say it's a 11/10 for your ability to match these outfits of yours, "how? you look beautiful in them all."
groaning out, you raise two bags. a black and sage green bag, "pick one."
nanami inspected the two bags and then looked back at your outfit briefly, "the sage green one would fit perfectly with your outfit now," he pointed.
"okay. how about a jacket, do you think i'll need one?" you questioned, rummaging through the closet, "you always have a hunch of what i'd feel, it's your judgement."
he pondered your words for a bit, "take a jacket. forecast said it's going to be cold tonight, i don't want you getting sick."
you chuckled and bobbed your head, "right. anything else i should bring?"
"pepper spray."
"check."
"be careful, yes? call me if anything happens," nanami whispers, standing up from the bed — initially he wanted to come along with you to meet your friends. but he thought that he'd be a bother to you so he stopped himself from asking, "i love you so much."
"i love you more," you kissed his lips, to which he returned.
"let's drop you there, hm?" nanami grabs your hips, giving your flesh a slight squeeze, leading you out of the house.
𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈
"y/n, do you — oh, wow."
yuuji stood, a hand on the handle of the door he just opened and another on the doorway. his jaw dropped at the sight of you, his partner.
you stood in front of a mirror, blinking cluelessly at his reaction. not knowing whether it was his surprise because of how good you looked or the other way around, "yuuji? do i what?"
yuuji blinked himself back into reality, entering the room mutely, his back leaned onto the shut door, "where are you off to?"
shaking your head you gazed back at your reflection, "i'm just mix and matching for a hang out with nobara tomorrow, does this look funny?"
he shook his head harshly, "no, no, you look really nice! really pretty," yuuji honestly said before inhaling, you quite literally took his breath away.
"really? the color suits?" you asked, pinching the shirt you're wearing, "is the pants a bit too short?"
yuuji stood still, "no . . . you — wow, you just look so pretty y/n. i don't know what else to tell you . . ." he whispers, entranced by your figure as he detached his back from the door to approach you.
mustering out a smile, you gave him a hug, "thanks yuuji, you're the best."
he nuzzled his nose into your hair, "you're so beautiful," yuuji mumbled before kissing the crown of your head.
all of a sudden, yuuji pulls back, his face stern and a frown on his face, "how come you're going out with kugisaki and i'm not invited?" he asks you, narrowing his eyes.
"baby, i promise it's just me and her. i'll get you something special on the way back and then we can watch movies? your pick." you pinched his cheeks gently.
"any movies?"
you nod, "any movies."
"okay! deal." yuuji beams out, kissing your cheek.
Tumblr media
© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
4K notes · View notes
kosije · 8 months
Text
sins in silk
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
c/w ★ ׂ duke!miguel ohara x princess!reader, they are from different kingdoms, mentioned age-gap, forbidden love aspect, pregnancy kink, mentions of masturbation, unprotected sex, creampie, mutual head, fingering, size kink, art cred: kammie_arts1903
"Princess, the Grand Duke is here. May I bring him in?"
"Show him to the study for now. Tell him I will be right out. Be sure to thank the Grand Duke for his patience."
"Yes, Princess."
"Oh, Will?"
"Yes, Princess?"
"After you inform the Duke, please excuse everyone to their chambers, yes?"
"But princess, you know if the king found out we had left your side, even with the Grand Duke we could lose our-"
"I will not let that happen. So please, Will, do this for me."
All though apprehensive, your servant bows and disappears from your room, in long strides to the Duke.
It's the 5th time this month he has come to the estate. Always with the intention to see the King and ruminate. And despite him being so much older than you, your father's closest friend and strongest connection to the 2099 kingdom, and is only to wed a woman from his territory, each time he has come has left you tangling a hand in your silk sheets, hushed cries of the Duke's name left to fall from your wet lips in a silent plea.
Every time he drops by unannounced, talks to your father, and leaves. Every time he has his salt and pepper sprinkled brown hair combed back away from his face, showing the wrinkles on his forehead. Every time his eyes have focused on you, running over you like the pretty oil portrait that hangs above the study's mantle as his jaw flexes brows furrow, something in you ignites and the yearning becomes almost palpable.
Never does he say more to you than a few words, only acknowledging you after with how his body tenses when you're around. He runs as cold as the marble under your feet as you move to your vanity to reapply your perfume and shift your dress to expose enough of your collarbone without looking intentional. You're buzzing at the thought of seeing him, taking the rollers out of your hair with bubbling anticipation. This is the first time he's come amidst nightfall and the first time you two will be alone. With your hands resting to your front, you walk to the study well aware of how low your neckline is dipping while high pillared walls with paintings of cherubs and past battles trail you illuminated by ivory candles.
When you push past tall burgundy doors, you're greeted by the sight of Grand Duke of 2099, Miguel O'hara, who's stretching his back with two large hands on his hips. The deep groan he lets out makes your skin flush, and when his cold gaze meets yours you almost shiver. His eyes drift from your face to just right where your dress exposes a bit of the fat on your breast, and you smile when you hear him suck in a breath.
"What do I owe the pleasure, Your Grace?" His eyes tear from your chest as he focuses on the crackling fireplace.
"Just here to see your father, is he near?" He asks, brown eyes fixing back onto yours. Your smile only widens.
"I'm afraid the King is away, but he should be returning soon, you are more than welcome to stay 'till his return."
"I shouldn't-"
"Humor me, Your Grace. After all, I am a bit lonely without my father to talk to." you say, batting your eyelashes at him bashfully.
Apprehension is so clear on his face, but still he nods, straightening his white button up and waiting for you to go on.
"Follow me," you say, walking back down the hall until you reach your room.
"Princessa, I will not go further, this is inappropriate. A young lady shouldn-"
"'M not as young as I was before. Surely you can agree, no?"
"Even so," He coughs. "That is not the point-"
"You should have no trouble entering. I have already given my permission."
He doesn't look convinced.
"Do you not trust me? Have I done wrong by you?"
"That is not it, Princessa-"
"Then please, my duke, time is slipping right past us." you whisper, slipping through the doors, intentionally brushing your hand across his thigh. You grin when you hear his shaky breath, and hear your door not only close, but lock.
"What is it that you have here that we couldn't be anywhere else for?"
"Are you putting on an act," you ask him, turning around to face him still at a distance. "Or are you truly this aloof, Your Grace?'
"I’m sorry?-"
"I have a confession," you say. walking closer and closer until his breath is caught in his throat, and your lips are just a nudge away from his.
"My father won't be returning anytime soon." And suddenly, it seems it has clicked in his head, as his eyes darken.
"This can not happen."
"You're right," your hand is pressed up against his chest.
"Someone could hear us," He whispers, making no effort to push you away.
"I've already dismissed everyone to their chambers."
"If your father ever found out there could be a war," he tries to argue, but his head is still dipping down, ghosting over your lips.
"We have all night to just the two of us."
And just a second after saying that, he kisses you. His lips are hot, hungry, and experienced in the way they move against yours, swallowing your every breath. His hands find your waist, but he hesitates and you can tell he hasn't given in completely. And something about that excites you.
You pull away from his lips, leaving him noticeably confused until your hand reaches down and palms his cock, happy at the way he's already hard.
"Do you know just how long I've been wanting this?" You ask shifting him around you.
He doesn't say anything, only shakes his head "No."
"Ever since the day you came back to visit, I haven't been able to think of anything else." When you push him down on the edge of your bed, he shivers when you drop to your knees and play with the button on his slacks.
"Every night, I touch myself on these sheets to the thought of you." You confess, finally free him from his pants, leaving him in the thin fabric of his underwear, painfully soaking up the front of them with his pre.
"Princessa," He finally says in almost a whine. "If you say things like that I'm afraid I won't be able to hold back."
And dipping your hand under his waistband to grip his cock, you savor how thick and heavy he feels and the groan he lets out with a kiss to his base. You can't deny the bit of worry that flushes through you when you see just how big he is. Thick beads of cum pulse out of him that you lick up hungrily, humming at how you can feel hus veins on your tongue.
"Then please, Your Grace. Give me everything."
That seems to shatter his self control, because suddenly he has a hand in your hair and a hand on his cock as he forces your lips over his angry brown head.
"You're such a damn tease, you know that?" He gritts out, bullying his cock all the way to the back of your throat and then some. You gag and choke around him, already feeling your throat burn and eyes well up.
"Always coming around me with your father with your body on display in those cute little gowns, batting those pretty little eyes at me when you talk. What would your father think if he knew all of that was because you were trying to get my attention?" He coos between groans while using your face like just a vessel to get off, and your cunt starts dripping. "Just so I could fuck your pretty mouth like this?"
You can't do anything but moan around him, croaking out gasp when he finally lets you catch your breath before immediately pulling you back down onto his dick rapidly as snot mixes in with tears, spit, and cum starts to drip down your jaw and onto your floor. He begins to unbutton his shirt, before tearing it off completely, leaving buttons to fly across your room. Looking up through teary eyes you take in the way his usually combed back hair sticks to his sweaty forehead messily, as his abs tense and relax with every rapid breath as his mouth lulls open with lidded eyes, moaning when he sees just how well you swallow him.
Swiftly, you run your tongue over the slit of his cock, hearing him whine, and feeling the grip on your hair tighten enough to burn your scalp. Your throat aches with every heavy thrust that only spurs on the throbbing between your thighs as your hands play with his balls and he stutters in your mouth, shooting his seed down your throat, midst mumbling praises.
Without word or warning, he flips you over, effectively pinning you down to your bed once he's come down from his high. His large calloused hand runs up and down your thigh before tossing your nightgown up, and he groans at the sigh.
"You needed me so bad you didn't wear anything under this frilly thing? What a filthy girl." He grins, slapping your dripping cunt and drinking up your moan in a kiss.
"Your Grace,"
"That's not what you should be calling me." He grits, crouching down to his knees to lick a stripe up your throbbing pussy.
"M-miguel,"
"Yes, Princessa?"
"Please."
"Please what, Princessa?" He says, licking another stripe, but slower.
"Please...don't tease me." You whimper, muffling your moans with the back of your hand.
"And what shall I do instead?"
"Kiss me harder, please. I need it, Mig-" and your sentence is cut off by the feeling of his nose kissing your clit as he buries his face into your sopping heat, groaning at the way you suck his tongue in. You're writhing at the feeling, but when you feel one of his calloused fingers push through you, you lose your vision for a second.
"Fuck- you're even tighter than I thought you were," he groans, and you feel your body ignite at his admission.
"You'd think of me?" You ask with such a worn out voice, Miguel's hips buck up in search of any friction at all.
"All the damn time. Would fuck my hand everyday over those pretty eyes and lips, imagine how pretty you'd look all happy and spent, with the image of my love spilling out of you." He confesses, speeding his assault on your hole, hitting spots with his fingers you could only dream of, before latching his mouth back on and fucking you with his tongue and fingers. The arousal in you was rushing through you like a wave and just after a strangled moan it blows out of you in pleasurable burst that leave you flushed. He hungrily drinks you up like a starved man until you're whining from the sensation.
When he rises from the floor he doesn't bother wiping your slick from his mouth, only laughs at your fucked out expression, and runs his lips over yours, amused by how you trail after him. Annoyed, you wrap your hands around his collar and pull his lips onto yours, gasping and licking into his mouth. Between the taste of you on his tongue, his rock-hard cock rubbing against your puffy folds as your hands run through his sweaty hair.
"Gonna give me one more?" He asks, voice low like gravel.
"I'll do anything for you, Miguel. Anything you want."
He kisses you again, a passionate thing as you both whine at the feeling of him bullying into you.
"'Ts too big, Mig- oh! S-slow down!" You cry, but his hand slaps the fat of your thigh and grips it, hitting you even deeper at a fast pace. The pain is still there, but feeling of pleasure is much more intense. And it only skyrockets when you hear his voice.
"Sshhh sweetheart. You're-fuck-already taking me so well. so damn tight around me. Be good and take what I give you. So I c-can tell your father what a nice cunt his perfect little girl has." He rasps, pounding you even deeper than before, and your nails dig up the fabric of your sheets, leaving fabric frayed in long scratches. One hand grips your thigh as the other moves up your dress to tweak and grope your breast, making you clench down around him. He drawls out a curse as his head falls into the crook of your neck, inhaling the smell of your sweat and perfume that makes him impossibly more needy to where he's plowing through you in quick hard strokes that move your bed to knock against your walls, shaking the shelf above you.
His teeth sink into your neck, almost as a mark of ownership, before sucking a bruise into your skin, continuing his markings lower and lower to focus them on your breast. Your back arches at the sting and you cry out at the imposing feeling building up inside you.
"Such a pretty girl," he says, leaning over to look you in your eyes, studying the gaping of your mouth and tugging on your brows as your orgasm builds up. His eyes are trained on you, as he throbs inside you, stimulating you further.
"I'm close-" you whimper, voice cracking as he licks a stripe up your neck.
"Yeah?" He asks, smirk practically audible as he hums in your ear. "Do it. Squeeze me, sweetheart."
It only takes a few heavy strokes to hit your sweet spot before you are gushing around him, making his thrust sporadic and moans louder.
"Yes-shit- let me fill you up. I'll give you an heir, and then I'll-hah- fuck you again, and again, and again."
"Yesyesyes, please." You think you exclaim, but can't tell if you said it out loud or just in your head because of how overestimated you are. His hand rubs circles on your clit, and your toes curl as your heels dig into the muscle of his back.
"Fuck- I'm gonna-" He spits out, just before spilling his seed into your cunt, carefully riding out his orgasm inside you while pushing his cum deeper into your womb. His palm stretches over the expanse of your chest as he leans down to kiss just above your belly button. The room is quiet now that he is still inside you, and you watch Miguel lean down to kiss you once more, in the form of a soft peck to your swollen lips. Once he pulls back, he leaves you briefly before returning with a warm damp cloth that he wipes you down with. Once he is done, he discards it into a bucket and lies himself down next to you.
"If we continue to do this," he says, carefully pulling out of you. "We will eventually have to tell your father."
"You're right," you whisper scared, but when you feel his strong arm pull you flush against his chest, hope surges through you and you bury your face into his warm body.
"We'll need to get up early, the maids would appreciate finding us like this."
"We'll be fine. After all, a pregnancy will shock them far more than this."
"I'm sure it will," he laughs, kissing your forehead.
Since envelops the two of you, as you notice his breathing deepen.
"Your, Grace-"
"Miguel," he corrects, eyes dancing across your face with a small smile.
"Miguel, my father will be gone on the next full moon."
"The next full moon, huh?" He asks no one at all, pushing your hair behind your ear.
It’s bittersweet asking him to sneak around with you again. And yet, all he says is a simple "Okay," placing a kiss to the palm of your hand, and you understand what the gesture is:
A promise.
5K notes · View notes