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serpentandlily · 3 months

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Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny II

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny II - Eris x Archeron!Reader

Summary: You find yourself ensnared by a sly, cunning fox. A very handsome, irritating one.

Warnings: none

a/n: sorry for the long wait with this one! Hope you guys like it!

Part I

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

You slipped into the private library in the House of Wind, humming slightly to yourself. The faint scent of crackling embers and something else indiscernible met your nose as the door slammed shut behind you but you brushed it off, figuring it must've come from the fireplace on the other side of the large room.

You meandered to the section that was filled with romance books—the ones Nesta had made sure to stock up on ever since she became the owner of this place along with Cassian. You brushed your fingers against the spines of the books, pulling out some that had interesting titles and stacking them in your arms.

A Heart Ablaze.

The Prince of Fire.

Your skirt flitted against the tops of your boots as you walked. You bit your lip, pulling out another book. This one titled, The Flames that Bind Us. You’d read it before but it was one of your favorites.

“You should be a bit more aware of your surroundings, bunny. You have no idea what sort of monsters are lurking around.”

You gasped, jumping in fright and dropping your stack of books to place a hand on your chest. You whirled around with a wildly beating heart.

You had recognized the voice immediately but you were still taken aback to see Eris lounging in one of the armchairs by the fireplace. He was sprawled out in the chair like it was his throne, a glass of whiskey in one hand and his other lightly stroking the soft velvet of the armrest. His red hair gleamed the same color as the burning flames behind him.

Your gaze dipped to his chest, to his cream colored tunic that had a few buttons undone, exposing the silver layered jewelry resting against his chest. He wore dark brown breeches, perfectly tailored for his long legs and brown riding boots. How he managed to make such casual clothing look elegant and refined was beyond you.

When you met his eyes again, those devastating amber eyes, Eris gave you a fox-like grin that looked anything but friendly.

“What are you doing here?” you asked as you bent down to pick up the books you had dropped. You held them against your chest like a shield.

“That is no way to address a Lord,” Eris purred.

You huffed, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Apologies, my Lord,” you replied, sarcastically. “What a delight it is to see you again. What brings you to our humble court?”

Eris’s eyebrows rose in amusement.

“If you must know, I’m here for a meeting with your High Lord and Lady,” Eris said. “Pray tell, what are you doing here, bunny?”

His eyes darted to the books in your arms and you blushed, trying to discreetly cover the titles. Eris didn’t need to know your reading preferences.

“If you must know,” you said, mocking him, “I live here.”

You split time between here and the River House. Mostly because Nesta had once accused you of favoring Feyre. You hated nothing more than to be used as a pawn against your sisters. But being the youngest, your role in the family oftentimes required you playing mediator between your siblings. Sometimes, messenger too.

“Poor little bunny,” Eris teased. “Locked up here in a cage.”

“Stop calling me that!”

You glared at the handsome Lord, hating the way that made him seem even more amused.

Eris said nothing, just twirled the glass in his hands as his eyes assessed you. You felt the hairs on your arms stand up, felt a chill run down your spine at his look. His smirk never left his face. You were quite sure he had been born wearing it.

“Don’t you normally meet with Rhys and Feyre in Hewn City?” you asked, unable to take the silence. You should probably leave, but something kept your feet glued to the floor.

Eris shrugged. “Sure, when our business involves Keir.”

He spat out the older male’s name with disgust.

“I’m surprised they didn’t order you to stay in your room knowing I was here,” he continued, his amusement back once more. “Can’t let the little bunny be ensnared by a fox again.”

His grin was more of a display of teeth. It did nothing to quell your nerves.

“They never tell me anything,” you murmured, annoyed.

Your lips slammed shut when one of Eris’s eyebrows raised, like you had just unknowingly passed along information you shouldn’t have.

The doors to the library slammed open and you jumped, sucking in a breath at the sudden noise. Azriel stormed in, his eyes narrowed at Eris. You suddenly felt tense, sensing the way the energy seemed to shift in the room. He stopped once he was in front of you, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“What are you doing here?” he hissed at the redhead. “You’re supposed to be waiting for Rhys and Feyre in the war room.”

Eris didn’t seem frightened in the slightest, unlike most fae did when staring down the shadowsinger.

He plucked a piece of lint from his tunic, unbothered. “Apologies, shadowsinger. I got lost.”

You doubted that and by Azriel’s growl, you realized he did too. He turned to look down at you, his lips pressed in a straight line with a stern look.

“Go,” Azriel barked, nodding his head towards the door. You bristled at the command, as if you were a dog he could order around.

But it was Eris who stood to his full height and snarled, “Don’t speak to her like that.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. You stepped out from around Azriel to see Eris staring down the shadowsinger. You swore the flames in the fireplace grew, the crackling of the wood the only thing breaking the tense silence.

You shifted on your feet, clearing your throat as the temperature rose—Azriel’s shadows growing with it. You placed a hand on Azriel’s shoulder, trying to calm him.

“I’ll leave,” you said softly, glancing up at Eris but his focus was on your hand touching Azriel, a muscle in his jaw ticking.

“It was lovely speaking to you again, my Lord,” you said, sarcastically, bowing your head at Eris. At the sound of your voice, you watched as Eris’s mask slipped right back into place, all the tension leaving his body.

His gaze met yours and he shot you his infamous fox-like grin. “Indeed, Lady.”

Azriel growled, lowly, and that was your sign to leave. You scurried out of the room, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach—the ones that had been there since the moment you laid eyes on the handsome Lord of Fire.

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

It had taken a lot of persuasion on your part, but you had finally talked Rhys and Feyre into letting you have more of a role in their court. They had decided to let you shadow Lucien as an emissary, but so far the only place you had gone with him to was the human realm—not that you minded.

You were currently in the deserted manor that Vassa, Jurian and Lucien were now living in since the end of the war. You had just had a meeting and dinner with them, but out of politeness, had offered to clean up which left you in the kitchen alone, scrubbing dishes. You supposed you could’ve used magic, but decided on doing it the only way you knew how: the human way.

“I thought I smelt a bunny in here.”

You let out a squeak of surprise, dropping the plate you were drying back into the filled basin. Water and soap splashed all around you, speckling the smock you wore over your dress and the counter.

You yanked a small hand towel free and began to blot at the water spots as you whirled around to face Eris. The grin he wore only infuriated you even more.

“Must you always sneak up on me?” you grumbled, tossing the towel back on the counter.

“You need to be more aware of your surroundings, bunny,” Eris purred.

“Oh, for Gods’ sake, stop calling me that!”

“Perhaps when it stops to suit you so well.”

“It doesn’t suit me now,” you argued back. “I am not some little bunny.”

“Are you sure about that?” Eris took a step towards you but something about his demeanor made you mirror his step backwards, your backside hitting the counter behind you. His grin sharpened at your movement.

“Are you scared of me, bunny?”

Your cheeks flushed, your heart skipped a beat in your chest.

“N-no,” you stuttered.

He took a step closer, that fox-like grin still on his face.

“Really?” Eris mocked. “You seem quite scared.”

“You tend to have that effect on everybody.”

“Do I?”

You knew he was teasing you, but it didn’t stop your heart from pounding nor did it do anything to quell the butterflies in your stomach. He was close enough now that you had to tilt your head back to look up at him. You had almost forgotten how tall he truly was.

You nodded, losing your voice as he took another step closer.

“And why is that?”

You cleared your throat, your hands finding the edge of the counter behind you so you could brace yourself. “It probably has to do with your reputation.”

“I have a reputation?”

The question sounded more like a joke on his tongue. Eris raised his eyebrows at you in suggestion and you swallowed audibly.

He took another step closer, now easily within reach of you. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, a small tremble shook your legs. But it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. It was more like anticipation. But for what? That was the part you couldn’t figure out.

“You know you do,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “You’ve gone to great lengths to make sure of it.”

Something inside of you could see the mask Eris liked to wear. Another step closer and you could feel the heat coming from his body. It seemed to reach out to you, like standing near a warm fire. Your body softened in response.

“You’re right. I have,” Eris cooed. “But I don’t care about everyone. I want to know if you are scared of me.”

He was so close now, only inches away from you, his handsome face looming over you. The sun setting caused a golden hue to stream through the window, making his crimson hair shine like molten metal.

“No,” you whispered, your head now fully tilted up to look at him. “But I think…I think I should be.”

Based on everything you had been told about him, at least.

Eris’s eyes darkened as he gazed down at you. The silence was thick, the tension in your body heightened. You were captive to his stare—to those whiskey amber eyes. Something ached terribly in your chest.

Eris reached out a hand, hooking some of your hair behind a pointed ear. He leaned down, resting his hands on the counter behind you, caging you in. It almost seemed as if he was going to kiss you but instead his mouth landed by your ear.

“You’re right, bunny,” he purred. “You should be.”

A chill ran down your spine as Eris stood back up. He seemed to relish in the way your body had responded to him, his grin turning smug and haughty. You should step away from him. Logically, you knew you should move. But something kept your feet ensnared—just like that day in the library.

His stare held an intensity that made your mouth dry. Something loomed beneath–the weight of all the secrets he seemed to keep. Your eyes were a stark contrast to his. Wide and full of every emotion that ran through you, no deception to be found.

Footsteps coming towards the door to the kitchen broke whatever spell you had been under. In a blink of an eye, Eris was almost on the other side of the room, his back resting against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest.

The doors pushed open and Lucien walked in. He paused on the threshold, his eyes narrowing on his brother before they drifted to you. He looked you up and down, as if he was inspecting you for damage. Seeming content that you were in one piece, he glanced warily at Eris.

He rolled his eyes at his brother’s grin.

“Leave Y/n alone,” Lucien grumbled. “She doesn’t like your little games. Come, you requested a meeting with me. Let’s get this over with so I take her home.”

He nodded his head towards the door before leaving Eris to follow him. Eris gave you one last parting look on his way out. A look that would linger in your mind for the following weeks.

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

The Dawn Court was radiant and you couldn’t stop spinning in circles, taking in the opalescent golden stone palace, grand staircases and ornate archways. Morning glories wrapped around pillars, drooping wisterias hung from every railing. It was beautiful, breathtaking. You could hardly believe your eyes.

You smoothed down the skirt of your midnight blue ball gown, feeling slightly out of place amongst all the pretty pastel colors of the Dawn Court. It was the first time you’d been out of the Night Court, besides that slight, accidental trip to Autumn.

Later today, you would be meeting with the rest of the High Lords, as well as Vassa and her court to discuss a peace treaty. Rhys had insisted on bringing you despite Feyre’s hesitation. But he had made the point that the humans might take more kindly to someone familiar, someone who used to be like them.

Nesta had been the first choice, but she and Cassian were still away on their mating vacation. Elain had been set to come today instead of you until Rhys had found out that Lord Nolan and Graysen would be attending the meeting and thus, Elain was spared the uncomfortable reunion and you were put in her place.

Not that you were complaining. You were excited to finally be involved.

The courtier from Dawn led your group to the suite your court would be staying in. It was carved from sunstone, with a lavish sitting area and private dining room—all decorated beautifully with jewel-toned fabrics and cushions stacked along the thick carpet. Bird cages hung from the ceiling in the corner of the room, right next to a large window that overlooked the countryside.

Once the courtier left, Rhys was quick to throw up several wards around the room. “Don’t get too comfortable yet. Eris is slipping by to meet before the official gathering.”

Mor groaned and plopped down on a settee, throwing her arm over her eyes.

“Perhaps you’d like to go rest for a spell in your room, Y/n?” Your sister suggested.

You saw her words for what they were though. They didn’t want you around when Eris came. You might’ve tried to argue against it but decided to not push your luck today. They were already letting you come to the meeting.

You gave her a small nod and disappeared into one of the rooms. Still feeling a bit nauseated from all the winnowing, you laid down on the soft bed and drifted off into a mid afternoon nap.

It only felt like a second had gone by when you eventually woke. You cursed as you looked out the small bay window, seeing the sun far lower than it had been when you had fallen asleep. You rose quickly and smoothed out your hair and dress.

You sat down at a small vanity and touched up your makeup before finally leaving your room, not even checking if they were still in a meeting with Eris or not, not wanting to be late.

Your door creaked open and several heads twisted your way—including a very handsome one with flaming red hair. You blinked in surprise, your cheeks turning a bit pink at the sudden attention.

“My apologies,” you murmured, embarrassed. “I didn’t know we still had company.”

Your eyes darted to your sister, hoping she wasn’t upset with you, but Feyre’s face didn’t falter. Her eyes only softened as she looked at you. “It’s okay, we’re almost done here anyways.”

Eris shot up suddenly, knocking his chair back.

“What is she doing here?” he hissed.

Your eyes widened in shock, taken aback by both his words and his tone. Rhys’s eyebrows raised and Feyre frowned at the redhead.

“What does it matter to you?” Rhys asked, his face carefully blank.

Eris scoffed and straightened out the sleeves of his coat. The frazzled look in his eye flickered away and his perfectly crafted mask was back in place. “It matters little to me. But considering you’ve gone to such lengths keeping her hidden, I’m surprised you’d allow her here knowing who will be at this meeting. My father is going to be displeased to know that you have not three but four Made females residing in your court now. It might make him…less agreeable.”

“You think having her here is going to cause problems with your father?”

“I know having her here is going to cause problems with my father.”

You bristled at the way you were being spoken about as if you weren't standing in the very same room as them.

“Why should we care about your father’s feelings on the matter?” Azriel spat out, crossing his arms.

“You want him to sign your little peace treaty, do you not?” Eris sneered at Azriel, his tone full of condescension.

“We also need the humans to agree upon the treaty,” Feyre cut in. “And Y/n has been working with your brother as an emissary to gain their trust. Since Lucien cannot be here, it is vital that she is present at this meeting.”

“You're delusional if you think it’s going to be harder to get the humans to sign the treaty than my father,” Eris said in that haughty tone of his. “He still thinks about that kernel of power you took from him. Power is all that matters to him and having all four made sisters in your court is going to be an issue in his eyes.”

“We have other ways to entice your father,” Rhys said with a shrug.

You were still taken aback, unable to even form words to leave your mouth. You hadn’t been aware that your presence would cause such drama. You were nothing. No one. Just another Archeron sister. You didn’t even have powers outside the normal High Fae ones, like summoning things and winnowing.

You didn’t miss the blink of fear that passed through Eris’s eyes, but no one else seemed to catch it. He still stood, his palms now pressed against the table separating him from the rest of your court.

“Why is it that no one knows about her, anyways?” he asked. “Why is it that all reports only mention the other two sisters being put in the Cauldron and not Y/n?”

A shiver ran down your spine at the sound of your name on his lips. But whatever feeling that was passed as a memory of that horrid day came at the reminder of the Cauldron.

“Put the little one in first,” the King of Hybern ordered, smugly, as he kept eye contact with Feyre. She was pleading with him to let you go. Pleading and begging with her own life. You knew why he chose you to go in first. He knew that it would cause Feyre more grief, more stress.

The feeling of hands all over you as you fought against your binds. Hands that were dragging you closer and closer to the huge Cauldron that sat in the middle of the room. You were screaming through your gag. Tears were streaming down your face.

You could even hear your sister’s ex lover demanding the King put a stop to this.

“She is just a girl, a child,” someone in the room hissed. “Stop this!”

And you supposed you were—especially to the fae. You were almost seventeen, your birthday falling on the Autumn equinox, when both day and night were equal lengths. It was all you kept thinking about as you were dragged to the Cauldron.

Four months.

Four months until Autumn.

And then you had been pushed underneath the dark water and your humanity had been stripped away from you.

Your heart was pounding at the thought of that day, of everything that had happened afterwards. Eris’s eyes flickered to you for a moment and you got the sense that he almost knew where your mind had drifted. Feyre gave you a look of concern.

It struck you now that it had been three years since that day.

Three years.

Three years since your life had been forever changed.

“Your contacts must not be very good at their jobs,” Rhys said in answer to Eris’s question. But you were also pondering it. Why is it that most of Prythian did not know of your existence? Why is it that the reports of that day only ever mention Nesta and Elain?

Eris didn’t look like he believed Rhysand either.

“Fine, whatever, I don’t have time to argue with you. My father is expecting me back any moment now,” Eris finally said, standing to his full height. His gaze drifted to you for a second before he glared down at Rhys.

“Send her away,” he spoke through his teeth and then he winnowed away, leaving only crackling embers in his wake.

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

a/n: I got a lil inspired by that tiktok audio that’s like “I’m spooky? Do you think I’m spooky?” or whatever for the kitchen scene if you couldn’t tell haha. I hope this second part did not disappoint! So sorry for how long you guys had to wait to read it!

Tag list: @dwkfan @pinksmellslikelove @vellichor01 @whatdoyxumean @minnieoo @hnyclover @daughterofthemoons-stuff @ferrarisbitch @thaynarajejheje @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @the-sweet-psycho

*If you asked to be on the taglist and you don't see your username, tumblr wouldn't let me tag you for some reason :(

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x you #eris fanfic #eris x y/n #eris x you #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris acotar #autumn court #archeron sisters

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missroki · 3 months

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SNEAKY AS A SPIDER┊gojo satoru is one of your closest and oldest friends, but recently he’s been acting strange. he’s unreliable, flaky. will say one thing and do another. after your science internship starts, you decide it's time to call him out on his behavior. it’s just your luck that it turns out he’s the most wanted vigilante in the city.

content: friends to lovers, mutual pining, female!reader x spider-man!gojo, public sex, reader is nicknamed bee, holding you with one arm, fingering, creampie, reader wears glasses, reader called pretty and baby, depictions of violence and injury, accidental manhandling, oral sex (female and male receiving), unprotected, he breaks the headboard. all lowercase. word count: 10k

satoru has been acting… weird, lately. and it’s not his usual weird; the way he always wears tinted glasses regardless of setting, his intense obsession with anything sweet, the way he talks as if he’s constantly on camera. no, in the three years you’ve been friends, satoru has always been that way.

he’s a little different from the rest of the friend group, the words you’d typically use to describe him were annoying, loud, and maybe even quirky if you wanted to really piss him off. thing is, flaky was never a part of that list until recently and it felt as if gojo satoru was rarely ever around anymore.

ever since your college internship started, you’ve seen your friend less and less. this was unusual especially because you were normally attached at the hip — the “hip” being suguru as you two argued over the last slice of pizza. if you were to ask anyone else in the friend group, there was definitely a ‘will they won’t they’ situation going on, but regardless of your feelings towards each other he was always there. a constant.

nowadays he cancels plans at a moment's notice, one time leaving before you’d even grabbed a table with your friends.

you started paying more attention after that.

as you caught on to his patterns, it was hard for you not to notice that he conveniently disappeared as soon as things started going wrong in the city. at first you thought he was just trying to avoid danger, leaving at the first sound of more than one police siren in quick succession. it wouldn’t surprise you if the loud mouth was all talk.

you’ll never forget the day when the two of you almost got crushed during a villain’s concrete throwing rampage — only to be suddenly saved by the infamous red and blue vigilante that swings through the sky.

spider-man, they’re calling him. a masked hero running through the streets and taking down anyone that dared to live a life of crime. BOOM! POW! CRASH! WHAM! are the only sounds you hear when that guy’s around. that fateful day was the first time you ever made direct contact with him, and when you heard him speak — you knew.

you’ve heard satoru’s shitty attempts at prank calls enough to know that badly deepened voice anywhere.

so here you stand, on a rooftop in manhattan, watching as he clumsily tries to change into his civilian clothing. he hasn’t noticed you quite yet, tripping over his sweats as he tries to shimmy them on while hopping on one leg. he falls unceremoniously on the ground, rubbing his left ass cheek as it meets the concrete.

“need some help?” you ask, watching as his head whips in your direction. his body catches up before he does, limbs hurriedly trying to cover himself. it’s no use, you’ve seen the skin-like suit already and how it hugs him in all the right places. despite this, he still grabs his backpack (the dijimon one that he swears is not for children) and tries to cover the large emblem on his chest anyway.

“h–hey there, bee,” he stutters out, “fancy seeing you here.” he shifts so that his elbow is resting against the ground and holding his chin, on his side with the other hand on his hip.

“wow,” you muse, “you’re definitely pulling off the casual look.”

“i try. it’s the only way we can get through this rat race called life. it’s hard out here for us normal everyday college students.”

you raise an eyebrow. “normal and everyday, huh?”

“yep! normal, plain, basic... all the other adjectives…” he trails off and you see his eyes flicker to the door behind you. you can tell that he’s worried, wondering if anyone else would be making their way up here soon.

you know they aren’t. your lab team believed the lie that you came to take some samples of the greenhouse for your thesis. everyone knew not to bother you when you got in the zone. you’d run around with a million different tasks, swiftly collecting data like a worker bee collects pollen — your namesake.

“hm. and what other adjectives could we use?” you inquire, blood pressure rising. “oh, I know. sneaky, devious, cowardly—!”

“would you believe that i’m just heavily into cosplay?”

“gojo satoru!” you hiss, your tone immediately making him stand up to his feet, palms raised in your direction. his body is fully covered by his suit, the only thing missing the mask. even now it’s hard for you to imagine him under the two white teardrops that peered down at you that day, swiftly bringing you to safety. “explain yourself.”

he groans as if the confession will actually kill him, reaching a gloved hand back to scratch at his undercut. his hair is a mess, sticking in all directions. you begrudgingly find it cute. “if i do, do you promise not to freak out?”

you briskly walk up to him, black heels clacking as your lab coat sways behind you. “i’m already freaked out, satoru. who wouldn’t be after finding out their friend is spi—“

“shhh!l” he reprimands, hands flying around in the air in front of you. “what if someone hears you?” he quickly looks left and then right, peering around the rooftop as if the mystery person would materialize out of thin air.

“hears me?” you scoff, lowering your glasses to apply pressure to your nose bridge. “that’s the least of our problems. you’re not the only person at risk here. you’re a criminal, a vigilante and i am now officially a guilty party.”

satoru watches as you lean against one of the wooden analysis tables, careful not to touch the equipment with your hands or sleeves.

“i didn’t exactly ask you to be,” he grumbles, following suit and resting against the dark wood. “listen, i wanted to tell you. both of you. but suguru is so morally righteous that i couldn’t trust him to not tell my family. i didn’t want to drag you in and have you constantly worrying about me. i’m sorry, really, but i don’t regret doing it. i just regret you finding out this way.”

you snort, glancing over at him. you notice now that he has gotten bigger over the past few months; large biceps and shoulders broader than they’ve ever been. “‘toru, i’ve known for three months now.”

his eyes widen, bright blue and vivid underneath the moonlight. you should be heading home now, but seeing him swing through the sky and land on your building, a detour was added. it was the only way you could get him alone. “what do you mean you’ve known? since when?”

“christmas eve,” you answer sheepishly, “you uh, you saved me from that guy with the horn? when we were shopping?”

“rhino.”

“is that his name?”

he shrugs. “it’s what i call him.”

you have to resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“alright then, sure, rhino. the guy damn near crushed us.”

satoru bumps your hip with his, a sly smile on his face. “i wouldn’t have let him. especially not if i knew you’d hug me so tightly after.” of course this is when he tries to flirt with you.

“we were flying through the air and i thought my friend,” you poke his chest and try your best to ignore the hard ridges, “was still under the rubble.”

“well, good thing i wasn’t!” he exclaims, “i was busy saving your life and being a hero.”

“a vigilante.”

“a hero. and a good one, too.” a pouty look passes over his eyes, his face resembling that of a kicked puppy. “i knew you’d react this way.”

in the years you’ve known him, satoru has always been a bit over dramatic, but you can tell that you may have actually hurt him a bit with your words. you quickly backtrack. “alright,” you sigh, “maybe you are a hero but… that also makes you a target, satoru. i’m more worried than i’m angry. what if something happens? fuck, like that week that you weren’t in class? you got hurt didn’t you—“

“come on, bee.” he interrupts, moving to stand in front of you. when did he get taller? “i need you to trust me. just this once.”

his hands drift to your shoulders, gripping your lab coat and pulling you close so that you’re forced to place your hands on his chest to create distance. he’s warm underneath your fingertips. you give in and loosely wrap your arms around his waist.

“okay,” you murmur, “but you have to come up with better excuses, satoru. shoko thinks you’re on drugs, suguru thinks you’re depressed, and nanami… well, actually he’s been fine.”

“ouch,” he whispers with a teasing lift in his voice, “that hurts.”

“your ass or what i said?”

“both. definitely both.”

the two of you giggle, your hands migrating to his hips as you pull away to look up at him. his arms are around you now and you can feel each muscle flex as he caresses your back. it feels intimate, familiar. it’s not the first time you’ve hugged but warmth rises up your neck. the night air nips at the skin beneath your glasses.

“you know, i missed this.” you sigh, “this is probably the longest conversation we’ve had in months since you’re always gone now.” the words are sitting in waiting on your tongue. “i really missed you, satoru.”

you like to think he knew this, even before you told him.

“shocker.” he says this teasingly, but quickly shifts back to being serious, a small smile on his face. “i missed you too, bee.”

you break eye contact so that your gaze is in line with his chest, puffing out a gust of air as your eyes zero in on the spider emblem. “i never got the chance to say thank you. for that day.”

“don’t,” he responds, “it’ll inflate my ego and then i’ll hold it over your head forever.”

“oh, yeah? well, at least you’re honest.”

“painfully so. that being said, i do still require a small payment for my services. it’s only fair.”

you raise an eyebrow, but nod, your left hand coming up to pull lint from the textured fabric of his spider suit. “uh oh, what?”

his gaze flickers from your eyes to your mouth. “do you think,” the tip of his tongue glides across his lips, the pink muscle leaving as quickly as it came. “i could kiss you?”

for a moment, you simply stare him, drinking in the facial features that are situated directly in front of you. satoru has always been handsome, you knew that when you met him. only recently had your feelings developed into something… more and you both were seemingly content with letting things stay the same.

as far as you could tell, gojo satoru wasn’t interested in romance. you’d never brought it up but there was only so many flirty jokes that you could take. it makes things worse that he’d been gone for so long. if you thought that you’d grown immune to the stupidly charming man, you were wrong. even though he’s a mess, freshly out of a fight according to the small cut on his eyebrow, he retains that alluring, almost unreal beauty that comes with someone like him.

warmth flushes your cheeks as you are suddenly more aware of your close proximity than ever. your eyes widen, a nervous giggle leaving your lips. “you’re not being fair.”

“i’m being serious.” he replies, though his tone tells you he is anything but. he lifts a hand to tuck a curl of your hair behind your ear. “i heard you talking to shoko. you said that spider-man had… what was it again? the tightest ass you’d ever seen— ouch!”

you punch his shoulder hard but he barely moves. your fingers throb and you ignore the pain as you quickly pull away. “that was a private conversation!”

“your voice carries and i just happened to be around! also, are you sure you aren’t secretly a superhero? i’m probably bruising as we speak.”

you roll your eyes. “alright, i’m leaving.”

you turn to make your way to the exit door, but you’re swiftly pulled back by your wrist. before you can even blink, the white-haired menace lifts you up bridal style in his arms. you immediately start pounding at his chest. “satoru put me down—!”

“come on, kiss me! you know you want to.” he smirks at you, cocky and knowing. he shifts you so that your legs wrap around his waist. not expecting the sudden movement, your arms automatically wrap around his neck to keep you grounded. when did he get so strong?

“you’re so fucking annoying.”

“oh, i get it now,” he teases as he leans in close, voice soft as his lips graze the shell of your ear. “you want me to put the mask back on?”

this stuns you, and by the way you tense up you’re sure he knows that you’ve probably fantasized about something similar in the past. “you’re insufferable.”

“keep going, this is doing it for me.”

“i’m actually going to kill you.”

“not before i get my kiss, bee! come on, it’ll be fun.”

you narrow your eyes at him. ‘fun’ for satoru could mean many things, typically on the more dangerous side. if the small scar on your thigh was anything to go by, you might need a helmet and shin guards. “be serious.”

“do you want to kiss me?” he asks suddenly, bending down to press his forehead to yours. you feel your gaze soften at the same time his does. fuck, he definitely wasn’t being fair now.

“what kind of question is that?” you breathe out.

“a serious one.” his eyebrows furrow slightly, eyes peering into yours. “answer it.”

“…of course i want to kiss you. you already know what this is.” you grumble, giving in.

“then come here. i only bite on the second date.”

“do not use tongue.”

“sure, pretty.” pretty.

you shift in his hold, staring into the familiar blue eyes in front of you. with a sigh, you cautiously begin to lean in. before your lips can touch, something occurs to you and you abruptly pull back. satoru does a terrible job of hiding his disappointment.

“wait, you can pick me up?”

at first he gives you a confused look. blinks once, then twice as his brain catches up to your statement. he looks down at your current position, him holding you as if you were a paper weight.

“of course i can pick you up. i can pick up a car.”

you distantly wonder whether he can hear the erratic pounding of your pulse at the information. his palms ever so lightly curve over your ass before settling on the undersides of your thighs, drawing you close enough that you feel the hard ridges of his muscles again. you want to touch him, drag your hands over the sharp divets in his body. maybe it’s the sleep deprivation or just your own desire shining through, but you decide that maybe just this once you’ll tease him back. "a car, huh? i knew i was crushing on spider-man for a reason."

despite your attempts to keep your voice steady, there’s still a slight nervousness to it, he smirks. "i am a superhero after all, i hear girls typically like that sort of thing.”

"that depends on if you’re done teasing me." you murmur. you are certain that the shiver beneath you isn’t from the chill night air.

“i can be,” he responds, hooking one arm under your ass and moving the other to hold your chin. his nose brushes against yours. “but you have to stop stalling.”

you’re not sure if he’s talking about just the kiss, or the obvious tension between the two of you. either way, you give him an imperceptible nod and the smallest ‘okay’. it is all the reassurance he needs to let the line that has buzzed between you for so long — snap.

you know you’ve reached the point of no return when his lips touch yours. a warmth spreads through your body, threatening to set you aflame if you didn’t hold satoru tighter against you. the hand that once held your chin presses against your back. you are impossibly close but it still doesn’t feel like enough.

the anticipation of finally kissing him has reached its boiling point, bubbling up inside of you and spilling over the edges of your heart. unable to contain it, you whine against him, feeling his thumb rub circles into your back.

satoru’s mouth is hot against yours as you tease the seam of his lips with your tongue. you can feel him smirk as he easily lets you in. the taste of a fruity energy drink is on the tip of his tongue as you intertwine, moving your fingers to trail up into his hair.

it’s only when you feel a familiar ache between your thighs that you pull away, the two of you huffing against each other's mouths.

“what’s wrong?” he pants, “did i do something?”

you shake your head, mind hazy as you process your thoughts. “n-no you’re fine. very fine, actually, i just… i think i’m getting too lost in you. we should stop.”

he hums. “you wanna stop?” satoru is already leaning in to capture your lips again.

you voice is barely above a whisper. “uh huh,” as you eagerly close the distance.

this feeling is new, nothing you’ve ever experienced from anyone until now and especially not from satoru. his normally teasing mouth is anything but as he kisses you, explores you in the form of languid kisses. hands that you now know can bring someone to their knees, twitch as they caress your thigh and spine, grip the nape of your neck.

it is entirely meant to be innocent, you had no intentions of crossing that line. but then you shift slightly and feel the swell of his cock against you. a whimper stumbles from your lips.

now it is his turn to pull away, forehead resting against yours. “okay, fuck i see what you mean now,” he breathes out, “we should actually stop now.”

you nod your head ever so slightly, lips just barely an inch away from his. “y-yeah, we really should.”

when you say this, you swear that you mean it. of course with the way satoru is looking at you, eyes narrowed and lidded, it’s hard to be stern. his cheeks are rosy, lips bruised pink, hair a start contrast against the deep blue of the sky. you don’t want to stop, you know he doesn’t either.

“how long do we have until someone comes looking for you?”

you start pressing warm, opened mouthed kisses to the exposed skin of his jaw, his hand grips down tighter on your thigh. your words are slightly muffled against his skin. “now? like twenty minutes.”

you barely register it when you feel yourself being placed on one of the work tables, dress hurriedly pushed up around your waist. your heels clatter to the ground but you don’t have time to care when his fingers begin to tease and rub against your clothed slit. “s–satoru! wait–!”

“we’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?” you lean into his shoulder and whimper as his long fingers rub at you through the soaked fabric of your panties. “just be good for me, yeah? let me make up for not being around like i should’ve been.”

there’s a brief pause where his glove is discarded to the ground. you feel a now bare hand pull your panties to the side, the cold night air making you shiver despite the warm body in front of you. there’s the distinct sound of your slick coating his fingers as they spread you open, a moan finding its way out as you grind against him.

his hand shifts so that his thumb teases your clit, fingers prodding at your entrance. “satoru,” you whimper, “please.”

you feel him smirk as he presses kisses against your flushed cheeks and forehead. “yeah, baby?” he murmurs, “you want me to fuck you with my fingers? get you nice and ready for me?”

you gasp as two of them enter you, dragging against your walls as you clench down. “fuck, you’re tight,” he comments, a flash of panic on his face that you don’t see with your face still in his shoulder. “this isn’t your first, is it?“

you shake your head, calming his trepid heart. “just been a while–!“ you choke out, his fingers grazing your g-spot.

“then i better make it memorable, yeah?”

your equilibrium is thrown off balance and you can only gasp as you suddenly find yourself in the air. satoru’s fingers pound into your cunt as you drip down the grooves of his palm. while one hand is dragging your moans out of you, the other holds you as if you weigh nothing, strong and stable as it curves around your ass.

“oh, fuck!” you moan, gripping at his shoulders as tears pool in your eyes. his fingers are relentless and he shows no sign of tiring as he keeps you firmly in place. even if you wanted to get away you couldn’t, like a caged animal, or more fittingly an insect trapped in his web.

your glasses start to tilt off your face and instead of having to push them up again, you move to take them off. you yelp when a bite is placed on your neck, cunt clenching involuntarily as satoru pulls back with a lustful gaze. “keep them on,” he groans, “you look so sexy with them on, bee.”

you lean your forehead against his, your moans and whimpers becoming intertwined with his as you kiss him again. this kiss is different from the others you’ve shared, all tongue and lips as loud smacks are heard whenever you pull apart.

“need you so badly,” you admit, “wanna feel you inside me, filling me up.”

your friend (if you could even still call him that) is quick to grant your wish, easing his fingers out of your cunt and placing a quick kiss on your lips. “one sec, gotta get this off..”

he places you again on the table, quickly tugging down his suit so that his torso is exposed. you see the swell of his cock where the suit now hangs, dripping precum from the pink tip against the bottom of his stomach. fuck, was he not wearing underwear?

you reach out to tease the head, reveling in the way satoru bucks forward into your palm. “how do you want me?” he asks, his heavy breaths obvious against his sweat slicked chest.

you smirk, lifting your arms in his direction. “i want you to bounce me on you. you’re strong, right? you can do all the work?”

satoru chuckles but it’s not in his usual playful tone, a hand grips your throat but doesnt add pressure, holding you in place. “we don’t have a lot of time, i can’t promise I’ll be gentle with you.”

“i don’t want you to be,” you whisper, wetting your lips with your tongue.

he quickly pulls your panties off your legs, lifting you with one arm so that you’re positioned perfectly. with his free hand, satoru guides himself into your wet cunt, growling as you take him to the hilt. he hasn’t even moved you yet and your juices are already dripping down to coat his balls.

“hold on tight, pretty girl. you can even bite me if you like, I’ll barely feel it.”

you’re trembling, holding onto his shoulders as you adjust to his size. when you nod your head against his neck, satoru lifts you up before slamming you back down on his cock.

wet slaps of skin echo in the quiet night. you’re too high up for the bustling city to make much noise, your moans and whines lost as you dig your nails into his back.

satoru isn’t faring well either, his free hand groping your ass and copping a feel of your tits. “when we’re not on this fucking roof i’m gonna worship this pretty body, but you don’t want that right now do you? no, you like that i can fuck you with one arm; treat you like my own personal fuck doll.”

you moan at his words, impossibly wet as he tweaks your nipples and grinds the fat of your ass. you feel consumed by him, like there isn’t a part of your body that he hasn’t touched.

“did you – ah.” satoru hisses, biting down on his own lip. “did you hope it was me?”

“w-what?” you whimper, trying your best to focus despite the hand that you feel now playing with your clit. “i-i didn’t know until after. heard your vo – shit – your voice!”

he moves your body quicker now, grunting each time he pistons his cock into your tight heat. “did it turn you on? knowing that i kept you safe, that i protected you?”

you feel a familiar pressure in your stomach. “s–stop talking,” you whimper, “or i’ll—“

“cum? i want you to, honey bee. want you to milk me for all i’m worth.” he kisses against your neck, up the skin to bite down and suck on your earlobe. “cum for your hero. show him how thankful you are.”

with eyes damp and foggy, you hold him tight. “s–satoru, c–cumming—!” and feel your pussy flood with his cum. tears track down your cheeks at your orgasm but satoru’s movements don’t stop, riding out his orgasm as you slump into his chest. “there you go, honey bee, ride it out. that’s it.”

you feel like you’re floating, weightless against him. satoru holds you in both of his arms now, fixing your glasses before gently petting your hair. “are you okay?” he asks, murmuring into the crown of your head.

you nod, sighing against his chest. “more than okay.”

he’s about to respond when the loud echo of police sirens go off in the distance. you perk up, looking at him in alarm. you know from the look in his eyes that he—

“i have to go.” he says, placing you down on the table and hurriedly handing you your panties. he’s tugging his suit back on, glove and mask following soon after.

“seriously, satoru?” you ask, squirming at the feeling of his cum inside you. he gently puts your heels back on your feet.

“i know, i know, i’m sorry. but i’ll see you later, okay? we can… talk. leave your window open.” he’s about to leave, shoot off into the night, but you grab his arm and stop him in his tracks.

“satoru, be safe.”

he tugs his mask up to reveal a small smirk, leaning to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “of course, always.”

with those parting words, he swings off into the night. you can only hope that he’s able to keep his promise.

on the nights when you dream of him, you wake up in fear.

sweats drips from the hot, temperamental skin of your forehead, tiny baby hairs curl at the moisture against your nape. you are falling, gasping as you sit up abruptly from your chilled bedsheets. shadows seemingly shift in all corners of your bedroom and the edges of your mind. you know now that the heavy pounding you hear is not the rush of thick blood pouring from a gushing wound, but instead a hand against the wooden frame of your bedroom door.

“bee!” your grandfather yells from behind your door, “you gotta see what’s on the tv, darlin’!” his accent is heavy, years of living in the city warping his speech.

you clear your throat and reach for the plush cover on your bed. when you find only a thin sheet, you realize that you must have kicked it off in the night. you hear the pounding again and imagine a weathered, sun spotted fist against strong pine.

“c–coming,” you stutter out, “just give me a sec!”

from behind the door comes your grandfather’s signature grunt of acceptance. you notice the way his knees click as he makes his way back to the front room, showing his old age.

you stumble out of bed, legs loose as you tug your pajama shorts lower on your thighs. you didn’t want to have to hear a mouthful from your grandmother tonight about showing too much skin.

when you lift your head again, you realize that the fear that manifested before still lingers, your vision is blurry as you try to make sense of your room that’s only illuminated by pale moonlight and a flickering neon sign.

your science fair trophies are where they have always been, your poloroids are still attached to the wall with the same tacky blue paste. your basket of unfolded laundry is still there and your high school diploma sits mounted right above it. nothing is out of the ordinary, but in its own way, normalcy is nothing short of terrifying.

you quickly snatch your glasses from the bedside table and put them on, thankfully realizing that the outline of a jacket was not the sleep paralysis demon you originally assumed it was.

the apartment you live in has always been small, so it doesn’t take you much effort to make it to the front room. hurried footsteps follow the sound of crashing and gunshots from your grandparents old box set tv. as you round the corner you see your grandpa leaning back in his favorite chair and your grandma holding what seems to be an abandoned crotchet project.

your blood runs cold as you watch the scene unfolding before you. it’s the channel five news, live and showing a high speed chase down a busy new york street. a masked set of criminals are shooting from the back of an unmarked van, lifting their heavy weapons up high in hopes of hitting what appears to be a moving object (with the way they whip their guns around in the air).

the figure is distinctly male, webs shooting from his wrist as he easily flies through the cityscape. the helicopter footage only shows so much, but it’s enough for you to see as the bullets narrowly miss his head and shoulders, red and blue blurs past your screen just slow enough to catch the spider emblem on his chest. whoever these criminals were, they had alarmingly good aim.

“see that, bee,” your grandpa mutters, “this damn spider-guy has been wreaking havoc all over the city! i mean look at the state of that street!”

“he’s lucky he hasn’t lost a limb with the way he’s throwing himself around,” your grandma adds, “do you see the way they’re shooting at him? he could be killed!”

you walk closer to the screen, kneeling down on your knees as your gaze follows your boyfriend. it had been six months since satoru confessed to you on the rooftop of your shared internship building. it was… nice, knowing that he trusted you enough to share his secret (even if you had to weasel it out of him). and since then, things have been a lot smoother between you two.

he was still busy, but you knew why now, making swift excuses for him on your nights out with friends. suguru teased you to no end, shoko finally let up on the drug addict allegations, and nanami was glad that he didn’t have to deal with the obvious tension between you two anymore. things were looking up, genuinely improving.

when he had the time, satoru would take you to his favorite parts of the city. the first time he actually had you in the air, you refused to even look at him until you landed on solid ground. he’d kiss your forehead and yell out stupid quips to you as you glided through the night, the familiar new york sounds making it hard to hear. “you aren’t scared, are you?” he’d tease. “those wings not working, honey bee?”

despite his incessant teasing, you trusted him to never let you fall. but recently your safety wasn’t what was on your mind. seeing him now, just barely avoiding death, it unnerves you.

the nightmares were gradual, kept at bay when satoru sneakily ended up in your bed at night. but when he wasn’t there (which was more often these days) you struggled to have a peaceful night's rest.

it was always the same visceral scene that your mind would conjure up:

you would be at home, like you are now, watching as spider-man battled the latest villain of the week. your body would go numb and your mouth would be dry as sandpaper. there would always be a buzzing in your ears, gentle when paired with the shrill sound of satoru’s screams; of him begging for help that would never come.

the air would smell of congealed blood and bile, you’d suddenly be out of your living room and crouched right next to him in crumbled concrete. he’d cry for you, plead for you to save him, but you could never stop the bleeding.

you’d wake and think you could still feel his nails digging into your forearms; the urge to scrub your hands raw is all consuming as they pulse with unseen blood.

you never wanted to talk to him about it, hovering over your cellphone with each strangled breath. fear was a powerful thing and you were afraid that if you spoke about what you saw, it would turn out to be true.

“satoru,” you breathe, watching as he stops the van with the force of his body and webs, holding the vehicle in place before it can ram into a sea of people in times square.

“your white-haired friend? don’t tell me he went out tonight,” your grandpa asks with worry, eyebrows furrowing as he goes to sit next to you on the ground.

your grandma follows suit, placing a gentle hand on your head and a kiss to your temple. they smell of home, comfort that you often seeked out since the night your parents died.

“i’m sure he’s fine, sweetie. he’s a smart boy, sharp as a tack! he can handle himself.”

she had no idea how right she was.

you imagine a powerful, strong body tangled in limited edition spider-man bedsheets. (satoru bought you a set despite them being too small for your bed.) you imagine soft breaths in your ear and the tickle of long pale fingers against your chest. you think of early mornings with blurry blue eyes and hurriedly grabbed coffee as you enter the internship building. they entangle you, situate themselves firmly in your chest so that even when he’s gone you will always have him near.

when you think of him this way, your fear suffocates you. you have to force your tears to stay put as you lean into the comforting shoulders of your grandparents, lean into the security they provide. “yeah,” you whisper, “i know he can.”

your grandmother was right, satoru could indeed handle himself. the chase ended at around two am and your grandparents retreated to their bedroom as things settled down in the city. the criminals were apprehended and spider-man was gone as quickly as he came.

you stare at the news reporter as they interview civilians on the scene. the general consensus this time was that he was a hero. he saved their lives and for that they were grateful. grateful enough to stand out in the rain just to sing his praises. you wonder if they would feel the same loss as you, if the mere thought of his death kept them up at night.

it’s a split second decision when you text him, when you realize that the only way to ease the ache in your chest was to feel him. see him. alive and breathing.

you: come over.

satoru: oh? right now? you miss me that much? ;)

you: satoru, please.

satoru: that bad? alright. no need to beg, beautiful. i’m on my way.

there’s a gentle knock on your bedroom window. it’s three am according to your digital pochacco alarm clock, but your body is as awake as it’s ever been.

you quickly shift off your bed to flip the latch, yanking the window up to reveal a familiar smirk patiently waiting for you on your fire escape. air fills your lungs as if you’d been drowning for weeks.

“hey there, pretty,” satoru murmurs, eagerly pressing a tender kiss to your lips. his mouth is cold and raindrops drip onto your windowsill, but you feel warm in this space.

you move back to make room for him to hop inside, noticing that there is no hint of red or blue under the collar of his black sweatshirt and sweatpants.

“hey there, handsome. was starting to think you weren’t gonna make it.”

satoru arrived later than expected. his hair is slightly damp from the rainwater which tells you that it was uncovered on his journey here. he must have changed clothes and opted to take the subway, laying low so that no one could find their way here by following him.

“and miss you in these extremely cute pjs?” his hands curve around your waist, travel down to the slope of your ass with a gentle squeeze. “i couldn’t possibly miss out on that…”

his voice trails off as you lock eyes, a curious look appearing on his face. at first, you think he’s confused but the look leaves as soon as it came. he pulls you in close and your hands press into his chest.

“does it matter? you’ll tear them off of me anyway.” you trail your hands downwards to grip his hips, slowly easing down to the ground on your knees. you feel the way your boyfriend tenses up from the attention.

“right, but typically that happens a little later, yeah? someone’s eager tonight.” he comments. you can hear the slight nervousness in his voice, but you don’t comment on it as you palm the slowly growing erection between his thighs.

“can a girl not miss her boyfriend?” you ask, freeing his impressive length as you situate his sweatpants and underwear under his balls. satoru hisses at the contact, a hand gently caressing your head.

“no, baby that’s not it i just— oh fuck!” you take him deep in your mouth without warning, your hand moving to grip the rest of his cock that you can’t fit. “i’m just w-worried about you. not that i don’t want this but y-you’re not usually this riled up— holy shit.”

your tongue drags against the underside of him, eyes glancing up to watch the way satoru tilts his head back in ecstasy. his hand grips your hair as you see a flash of light from the neon sign outside. it swallows him in a sea of red, and you swear that the gasp he lets out is suspiciously close to a final breath. blood. bright and thick blood floods your vision. it’s on his clothes, his skin, a gaping wound in his torso that just barely holds him together—

you jolt back, your head knocking against your bed as you try to create distance, eyes wide and blinking. satoru is startled for a moment before he sees the panic on your face. he quickly ducks down, hands hovering over your now shaking form. one glance down at his state of undress and he’s tucking himself away with a slight blush on his cheeks.

“hey, hey,” he coos, “what’s wrong? did i hurt you? how do i make it better? do you want to stop? we can stop–”

you can’t help the sob that leaves your throat, despite your best efforts. you cover your mouth with both hands as to not alert your grandparents. the last thing you needed was for them to barge in here and see your best friend sketchily hovering over you.

although he seems alarmed, satoru doesn’t hesitate to wrap you in his arms. he easily pulls you into his lap as you bury your face into his shoulder. weeks of anxiety and fear spill out of you at once, harsh and ugly cries leaving your lips. god, you felt ridiculous.

“you aren’t ridiculous,” he chastises. you realize you must have said that out loud. “we’ve known each other for years and the closest i’ve seen you get to crying is when you ate that ghost pepper with shoko.” you giggle at the memory, burying even further into his warm embrace.

satoru smells like the city, respectively; of rainwater and smog… but there’s a hint of familiarity there. underneath the haze is his soft laundry detergent and cologne. he is the pillar that grounds you and you cling to him like a child. “i’m sorry,” you whimper, feeling his palm caress your clothed back.

“don’t be. i don’t want you to ever feel like you have to do anything you don’t want–“

“that’s not why i’m upset.” you interject, not enjoying the shift in the conversation. the last thing you wanted to do was make him believe sex was the problem. satoru pulls you in closer to his chest, resting his chin on your head. “i’ve been… having nightmares, recently. vivid as hell and i haven’t been sleeping well.”

he doesn’t speak at first, hand still rubbing your back to soothe you. your tears fall silently now, your throat heavy with the weight of your admission.

after a while, he sighs. “you always do this.”

you clear your throat and the weight lifts. “do what, exactly?”

“not tell me how you’re feeling! you’ve been this way for years, sure, but you’re my girlfriend now. the apple to my pie, the straw to my berry–!”

“gojo satoru.”

“i’m being serious. whatever scary thoughts you have, you can keep them from everyone else… but not from me. never from me.”

he pulls away so that your words are clearer; not muffled by the fabric of his clothes. “what’s been going on in the busy little head of yours, bee?”

now it’s your turn to sigh, fist clenching and then unclenching around his sweatshirt. you’re most comfortable in what you know, so you start there. “like i said, i’ve been having nightmares... about you. specifically, you dying in various horrific ways while i watch… unable to do anything.”

you feel satoru stiffen, but he recovers quickly. you decide to continue.

“it’s all science, really. conditioning! you being around relaxes me, but when you aren’t i can’t sleep. i just sit up all night wondering where you are and–“

“and if i’m dead.” his voice is plain when he speaks, but the gravity of the words are even harder to swallow when he says them; his own mortality held in the palm of his hands.

you inhale sharply through your nose, hold it in until your lungs burn, then release it. “yes,” you whisper, “if you’re dead.”

satoru is shockingly quiet, but you know he’s simply thinking. he breathes steadily, as if you had simply told him how your day was. you know your breaths are more erratic, that he is feeling for your heartbeat with every touch against your back.

“damn. i guess it’s a good thing i’m a superhero, then. some random bank robbers aren’t going to kill me.”

you scoff. “but the guns they have might.”

“i told you how my powers work, didn’t i? i can sense them before they can even think to hit me. i can feel everything around me all at once if i concentrate hard enough.“

“but what if they catch you off guard?”

satoru pulls away from you so that your eyes meet, his hand cups your cheek. “they won’t. they can’t.”

“baby—“

“listen to me, bee. i told you on that roof that i’d be safe. yeah, i take a few risks here and there but i’m always… mostly careful.”

you raise a brow.

“look, what i’m trying to say is that you don’t need to stress yourself out worrying about me. i don’t plan on leaving you behind anytime soon. plus, i think we still have a few movie marathons left in us.”

his thumb caresses the skin under your eye, tinted slightly darker from your lack of sleep. “well, maybe one more.”

you giggle, poking a finger into his side. “you’re such a pain in my ass.”

“but i’m yours, yeah?” he presses a kiss to your cheek, nose drifting across your skin. “you’re stuck with me.”

you smile, leaning into him again as his kisses trail even further up your face. your heart pounds in your chest as you hold him close. “yeah, and you’re stuck with me,” you reply, voice low and steady. “which means i can’t watch you die.”

“you won’t have to.” he murmurs against your hairline, his lips gentle against your skin. “i’m the strongest, remember?”

and you do remember, it would be hard not to. satoru has always been strong mentally, but the physical is all you can focus on now. even through the thick material of his sweatshirt, you can tell that he is anything but weak. you miss feeling powerless under him. you enjoy letting everything go when it’s him that makes your mind go blank.

“how could i not?” you respond, pulling away so that your palms travel down the front of his sweatshirt. “…unless, you want me to forget? focus on something else?”

he grins at your obvious teasing but a hand grips your wrist. “are you sure? i wouldn’t want you getting overwhelmed again. i tend to have that effect on pretty girls.”

the way your other hand finds its way to his bare stomach is answer enough, but you still respond. “i’m sure you do, spider-boy… but if you can’t get it up again, i understa–”

you are pinned to your bed before you can fully blink, practically having flown in the air with the speed he’d moved you with. you can’t move, arms firmly pinned to your sides. satoru is looking down at you with an expression you recognize and you feel a throbbing between your legs.

“tell me if you want to stop, but let me just…” he reaches down to dip two fingers into your pajama shorts, letting out a stuttered breath at the wetness that begins to pool between your puffy slit. “there you are, beautiful. gettin’ nice and wet for me already. such a good girl.”

his fingers tease and rub against you, gathering your wetness and dragging it up to your swollen bud, rubbing it back and forth as you whimper and writhe against his strong hold. you can’t help the way you gasp, covering your mouth with your palms to muffle your scandalous sounds.

satoru is quick to take advantage of the way your hands are now preoccupied, using his own free hand to tug your breasts out of your flimsy tank top.

“fuck,” he growls, groping you brazenly and playing with the peaked nipples on your chest. his tongue is hot as he takes one in his mouth, his fingers now fucking into you with each suck of his long tongue.

your legs twitch as he starts to kiss downward, leaving your nipples slick and chilled from the night air. satoru is slow in the way he kisses every expanse of your skin, your pretty stomach and supple thighs, your soft feet and the backs of your knees. he travels down to your pelvis to watch as he thrusts inside your wet heat, slick against his hand and coating his fingers.

“so pretty,” he groans, “how could i ever leave you behind, huh?”

“satoru,” you moan, “please. i need you inside.”

he presses a kiss to your mound. “patience, beautiful. i promise i’ll give it all to you in time… just let me taste this perfect pussy first.”

the movement that follows is a quick whirlwind of fingers tugging off clothing, a determined look in satoru’s eyes as he folds you practically in half on the bed, forcing you into the position as if you were a mere toy, weighing nothing to him.

you nearly choke on the gasp that leaves your mouth as he latches onto your clit, hands firmly on the back of your thighs as he shoves his tongue deep inside your tight hole, drowning his moans in your cunt and lapping up your essence.

“oh my god,” you moan beneath your hand, the other moving to gain purchase on the bedsheets as he practically devours you. satoru is a man on a mission, his fingertips digging into your skin as his tongue penetrates deeper inside you until you’re shaking and writhing in the bed, begging to cum.

“yeah, pretty girl? you want me to make you cum on my tongue? want me to hold you in place so you can’t run away from me?”

you nod frantically, biting down on your lip so that your hand can bury in his hair. when you tug on it, you feel his hands grip even tighter, your voice sharp as you feel the sting of nails in your skin. the pain is welcomed as you cum in a sudden shuddered moan, feeling the coil in your stomach fully unravel as satoru reluctantly pulls away from your pussy.

his mouth is messy, his breathing ragged. you know from the look in his eyes that he is fraying at the seams, trying his best to not lose control.

“come–“ you pause and clear your throat ever so slightly, voice slightly scratchy. “come here.”

it is, once again, alarmingly quick how he slots his throbbing length between your thighs, spreading your ass cheeks so that he can see all of you as he sinks inside with a slow, desperate stroke.

every inch of him feels like relief, your moans tangling into one another’s as he leans down to capture your lips in his. your cunt flexes hard around him, practically begging to be filled.

satoru is quick to grip your headboard, the other arm wrapped your waist to keep you close. he shuts his eyes in hopes to calm himself but you would be an idiot to ignore the sharp crunch of splitting wood above your head and the small bit of dust that floats in the air. there is now a large crack in your old headboard, traveling down the side and disappearing underneath your pillows.

satoru lets out what is a mixture of a groan and laugh. “oh, shit. sorry. guess i still have to get used to the whole super strength thing.”

“we can accept a casualty or two.”

you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him back to you. satoru is unrelenting as he moves in a blur of slamming hips and sweaty chests. you find yourself wanting to feel him closer. your fear that he could simply disappear has been eased but you need more.

you hook your legs around his ass to pull him in deeper, the sudden angle shift causing a choked cry to fall from his mouth. “what are you doing?” he hurries out.

“need to feel you, toru, make me forget. please.”

your pleas egg him on as satoru grits his teeth and meets your hungry gaze, lifting to pin you further into the bed as he thrusts harder and faster. the bed creaks underneath you but you find yourself uncaring, hoping the still turned on tv would drown out the noise. satoru desperately wants to make it better, wants you to feel safe and secure because you’re his. he had to protect himself so that he could protect you.

a shift in the air happens when tears start to trickle down your cheeks. at first, satoru is shocked as he watches the water drip and cover your pretty skin, but he soon realizes that the tears are not your own. his vision blurs as you lift a hand to cup his face. “i love you,” you whisper though your speak is warbled, “stay with me.”

“fuck, bee,” satoru scrambles to find purchase on his emotions but everything comes to the surface. he can’t help the way he blurts out—

“i love you, too. so much. i’m not going anywhere, baby. i promise.”

he leans his forehead against yours as you connect in a sea of ragged, damp moans and whimpers. the soft pattering of rain on your window is gentle when paired with the sharp sounds of you reaching your peak, hands holding on to satoru as if he’d disappear.

your orgasm is harsh and sudden, your limbs clenching as you bury your face into satoru’s strong shoulder. you try your best not to be loud, muffling your sounds as best as you can as your boyfriend’s name bubbles up in your throat. satoru, you whimper, satoru.

“so close,” he grunts, “bee i–i’m fuck—!”

satoru’s babbling is cut short as his own orgasm rips through him like a surge of energy, intense and all consuming as hot streaks of his cum flood your insides in white.

your boyfriend lets out two heavy breaths before he’s rolling you both in the bed, back against the sheets as you rest against his chest.

the movement cause his softening cock to slip out of you, and you whine at the sudden empty feeling.

“holy shit,” you both say in unison, giggles erupting from both of your throats.

“that was… a lot,” you murmur, nuzzling into his chest. “but it was good. really good.”

“of course it was,” he says with a smirk, “you don’t keep me around for just my pretty face.”

you press a kiss to his chest. “no, i guess i don’t.”

satoru briefly wonders how much motivation he has to get up and head back to his place, knowing that in the morning your grandmother would come knocking with an offer of pancakes. still, he wants badly to—

“‘toru.” you murmur sleepily, fatigue finally catching up to you.

you feel a forehead press against yours as satoru responds with your name, your actual name. “it’s me.” he whispers. “i’m here.”

you hope he always will be.

“my grandparents don’t like spider-man all that much.”

he chuckles and twirls some of your hair around his finger. "they still like me though, right?"

a few seconds too long pass and satoru stops his toying with your hair. "…right?"

your snoring is the only reply he gets.

not going to explain anything important in this a/n bc yall never read them anyway, lmao. hope you enjoyed reading! thanks for the support on my new account since my last one got flagged.

MISSROKI. all original work. do not plagiarize, translate, or repost. this includes feeding my work to ai apps and sites.

#‧₊˚ 🖇️ ۫ ⭒ — sorin writes.#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x female reader #gojo x black reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo smut #gojo fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk x female reader #jjk smut #angelshubnetwork

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inkskinned · 6 months

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no, but really, we need to talk about the casual objectification that has become the fallback discourse of the internet: if you're pretty and dressed nicely, you're a slut. and if you're even vaguely outside of their body standard, you're fucking disgusting.

too-frequently, people position sex workers as being "the problem". they sneer you're addicted to pornography, you don't know what a real woman looks like. but real women are in pornography. the real bodies on display are not the issue here: the issue is that other people feel extremely confident when commenting on someone's physique.

2000's super-thin is slowly worming its way back into the public ideal. recently i saw someone get told to "go for a run", despite the fact she was on the thinner side of average. not that it would ever be appropriate to say that: but it's kind of like sticker shock when you see it. people think that is fat? holy shit. do they just have no idea about things?

but what are you going to do about it? that's the problem, right. because chances are - you're a normal person. we can say normalize carrying fat on your body, but we are not the billion-dollar diet industry. we are not the billion-dollar fashion industry. we are just, like. people. who are trying to make content on the internet, without being treated shittily.

as someone who has been on both sides of things: you are treated better when you are thin and pretty. this is statistically correct. i am not saying that you cannot be bullied for being thin; i'm saying there are objective institutional biases against certain bodytypes. there are videos of men and women who lost weight all saying: i now know for a fact exactly how much worse you're treated. in the comments, some asshole inevitably says something akin to you deserved to be dehumanized when you were fat.

which means that ... the easiest thing to do is be pretty and thin. it is the path of least resistance, because of course it is, because any time you post a picture of yourself without a thigh gap, someone immediately comments something like you need to try a diet.

the other half is also dehumanizing though, huh, just in a different way. when i put on makeup and nice clothes, i am told i slept my way to the top as a professional. do you know how many women in STEM have told me they purposefully dress to "unimpress" because they already struggle to be taken seriously and if they're ever considered pretty - it for some reason takes away from their authority.

so they make it seem like it's your fault. you, existing in a body - it's your fault! if you didn't want shitty comments, don't have a body. they position us against each other like chess pieces; vying for male attention we don't even need.

and i can be an authority on this unless you think i'm fat and unattractive. when i am pretty and thin, i'm an activist. when i am just a normal person who makes a good point: i am immediately dismissed. nobody fucking believes you if you're not seen as attractive. you literally lose value. you cease to exist.

but the whole time, it feels like - is anyone actually grounded the fuck in reality? the line of "pretty and thin" keeps shifting. nobody seems to understand what "a normal weight" even looks like, because it's not something that exists - you cannot tell a person's health by looking at their body. even if you think you could tell that, even if you're sure a person is dangerously overweight - people are not your dolls. they do not need to be dressed up or displayed properly to soothe your aesthetics. you aren't concerned for them, you're stealing their agency. you don't get to say if they're "allowed" to take pictures and post them on the internet - you don't get to tell them how to exist.

people hide behind "the obesity epidemic" without any actual qualifications. they crow things about "normalizing unhealthiness".

but it's bullshit. i have visible abs. there is a pair of parallel lines on my body, even when i'm relaxed; where my obliques meet my abdominal wall. i am proud of this because it means i'm strong, because i overcame an eating disorder only to be ripped as fuck. it is genetic and physical luck that i even get any definition, i'm pleased as punch.

but it does mean that my abdominal wall sticks out a little bit. the other day i posted a video of myself dancing, and, for a moment, my shirt slipped. you could see a little bit of my stomach. i was cartwheeling to the floor. moments before this, i'd had my foot over my head.

a guy slid into my DMs. a row of vomiting emojis prefaced: you should really lose some weight before you think about dancing.

i stared at it for a long time. there was a time when i would have been triggered by this, where it would have encouraged me to starve myself. i would have ignored the fact i'm flexible, agile, good at jumping: i would have lost the weight for a stranger's passing comment. i would have found myself and my body fucking disgusting.

and for what? to please what? because why? so that he can exist in this world without an unchallenged eyeball? what would my self-hatred even accomplish? usually i write paragraphs. obviously. on this particular occasion, in this body i've been at war with for ages: i just felt exhausted.

it shouldn't be even worth saying. it shouldn't be hard to explain. all of this emotional turmoil when he cannot even comprehend the most basic truth: i am not an object on display for him.

#spilled ink #writeblr #warm up #like if im getting fatshamed. babe......... wake up #is there fat on my body? yes :)#btw this behavior wouldn't be okay even if I WAS overweight!!! that is my point!!!#it is both that people have no idea what weight is supposed to look like #and even if they DID... they do not seem to understand that PEOPLE ARE NOT DOLLS #YOU DO NOT GET TO TELL THEM HOW TO EXIST #if you respond anything akin to ''but raquel there IS an obesity epidemic''#you're blocked and reported.#go fucking DONATE TO A FOOD BANK THEN. volunteer in a food desert. start a free fitness program #GO GET A DEGREE AS A MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL AND PRACTICE IN NUTRITION IN UNDERPRIVILEDGED LOCATIONS #FIGURE OUT HOW TO LOWER FOOD COSTS. FIGURE OUT HOW TO NORMALIZE AND STANDARDIZE #ACCESS TO FARM-FRESH FOOD. PROVIDE ACTUAL FREE ACCESS TO OUTSIDE ACTIVITIES #FIGURE OUT HOW TO TEACH PEOPLE HEALTHY CHOICE MAKING WHILE ALSO LOWERING THE COST OF MEALS.#THE AVERAGE GROCERY BILL OF THE AMERICAN CITIZEN HAS QUADRUPILED IN THE LAST YEAR.#SHUT. THE FUCK. UP!!!!!!!!!#you don't want to help these people!!!!!#you want to bully them but still feel like a good person!#you want to be justified in your hatred of an entire CLASS of people!!!#you don't give a fuck about how it makes them feel!!!!#you care ONLY about whether or not YOU get to VIRTUE SIGNAL that YOURE so thin and pretty!!!!#it is BECAUSE of people like you #and the fact you tolerate fatphobia - BECAUSE of that normalization. that men like the one who called me fat #feel like they can get away with it.#bc there's a line for you where you WOULD be okay with it. where if i WASNT thin you'd be okay with it.#which means the line can always be pushed in a certain direction. and it's always going to appeal to male aesthetics.#''well you didn't deserve it'' maybe fucking NOBODY does babe. maybe we should just all agree not to comment on ppls bodies!!

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sugarcoatedstarkey · 5 months

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Fake Boyfriend - p1

Pairing - soft!rafe Cameron x virgin!femreader

Summary - you lie to your best friend about having a boyfriend.

Warnings - please note there will be individual ratings on each part. But I’d like to keep it 18+ because there will be smut eventually.

The party was in full swing, you could hear the music from the Uber two streets away. Combing your fingers through your curls, taking a quick glance at yourself through the rearview mirror. Giving the driver an awkward smile when he shamelessly checks you out.

“Seriously y/n, you can’t keep dodging the questions around why you still haven’t had a boyfriend” your best friend pipes up from next to you, your cheeks blushing when the driver's eyes widen. “Shut up!” You exclaimed, taking a sigh of relief when the car came to a stop outside the house.

You wasted no time and darted out of the vehicle, fixing up your shorts. You opted for a chic but casual look of a tight black strapless top and red linen shorts. You didn’t look back to see if Kelsie followed behind you because not even 5 steps later she’s pulling on your bicep, annoyance floods your veins as you stared at her in silence. “Come on babe, I’m not trying to make you feel bad I just genuinely don’t know how the hottest girl in the outerbanks has never been fucked”.

Once again your best friend has embarrassed you in front of an audience, running your hands down your face in anger. You could already hear the whispers, you stormed away from her in silence. You were rounding the corner of the kitchen within moments, slinging back shot after shot. Trying to dull the embarrassment that sat low in your stomach, Kelsie stood beside you in silence. She knew she had crossed a line then by blurting out you were a virgin, so she didn’t stop you when you poured yourself a large cup of cherry vodka.

“Actually Kelsie” you slurred, jabbing your finger into her shoulder. Her forehead creased in the middle, slightly excited to hear what her best friend was about to admit to. “I do have a boyfriend”.

You're not sure why you're lying, but it just slipped off the tip of your tongue. It was easy to lie to her, she lived on the opposite sides of the country. She had no idea who any of the people were on the island unless you introduced her to them.

You watched the corner of her lips turn up into a smile, her hands shaking beside her as though she’s about to squeal out in delight. Your eyes quickly roam your surroundings searching for a suitable male. Your eyes landed on Rafe Cameron who was standing with his usual posse, beers in hand and laughing at whatever they found funny. “Yeah, I have a boyfriend and his name is- Rafe” you state, you catch a few people turn your way at his name and raise their brows.

Rafe wasn’t one for girlfriends, he was more of a one and done kind of guy. So really you should have thought of someone better, Topper was a better option. He was always chasing after some poor girl and being let down constantly.

“Introduce me then” she edges, her eyebrow arches you in question. She nudges you out of the kitchen, your feet are walking towards where Rafe stood. Throwing back your drink in a hurry, hoping the alcohol would numb your brain from this horrible situation that was about to unfold.

“Go on” Kelsie states, crossing her arms in front of her small chest. You know she thinks you're lying and you were, but no way are you going to let her find out.

You clear the back of your throat and step into the group in front of you, they all look at you but don’t say a word. Looking you up and down in question and then looking behind you at your friend.

Rafe’s eyes meet yours and you step in front of him. “Please play along” you beg, he doesn’t move away from you. Your cupping his face and pressing your lips to his, the alcohol had definitely number the anxious butterflies which had now been replaced with something different, you couldn’t quite explain the feeling.

Rafes arm wraps around your waist and his fingers wrap around the nape of your neck, you're unsure why you let his tongue slip into your mouth. You were actually quite enjoying the kiss before your best friend tapped you on the shoulder breaking the kiss up.

“So this is the boyfriend? Damn y/n didn’t take you for the PDA kind of gal” she joked, she dropped her hand out for Rafe to shake. Before you could even say anything he was shaking her hand and giving her a soft smile.

Your eyes wander around the room. The only people looking were his friends, they looked confused but kept their mouths shut and sipped on their beers in amusement.

“Nice to meet you” he said, you had never actually heard his voice before and it was sending shivers down your spine or was that his hand causing the shivers? You hadn’t realized his hand held you by the small of your back. You couldn’t believe you were getting away with the lie. It all felt too easy but that came crashing down instantly when your best friend decided to ask questions, you really hadn’t thought this through.

“So why did you wait all night to tell me you had a boyfriend? I’m your best friend!” Kelsie questioned, you could see the hesitation behind her eyes. She didn’t want you to think she didn’t believe but she also just wanted to know why you’d keep it from her.

“Well my dearest best friend Kelsie, you wouldn’t shut up about it and honestly I wanted to drag it out as long as possible so I could see your face when you saw how gorgeous he is” you state, grabbing Rafe by the jaw and pecking him on the lips. His fingers dug into your hips pulling you closer to him, your own arm wrapping around his waist.

“Well shit! You got a boyfriend! Fucking finally! Hallelujah!” She shouts, jumping up and down on the spot in pure delight. You're not sure why she’s always been obsessed with finding you a boyfriend, or why she really wanted you to get laid. “Honestly 22 and never had a boyfriend shocking!”.

You just about died on the spot, the redness creeped up your neck and you squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment. How many times was she going to embarrass you tonight?

You could hear his friends chuckling under their breaths and whispering but Rafe didn’t budge, you couldn’t bear to look at his face.

“So how did you two meet?”

You're about to tell her we can do proper introductions another day and that we should enjoy the party because she goes back home soon but to your surprise Rafe leans down and kisses your cheek.

“This one got stuck in a lift in my fathers building. I watched her through the security footage and had to get the fire brigade in because the poor thing was hyperventilating”.

Your brows crease in confusion, that has actually happened to you recently but he wasn’t around and you were sure his dad didn’t own the building.

“Anyway I was there when it opened and comforted her and we just clicked” he says, looking down at you with a smirk. He sends you a quick wink and looks back at your best friend who looks like she is about to burst out of excitement.

“How could you keep that from me!! Omg y/n you have a lot of explaining to do!” She exclaimed, pulling you away from Rafe. “I need to steal her away, nice meeting you!”.

You let her drag you away but not before turning around and mouthing thank you to Rafe who nods his head in acknowledgment.

You spend the next two hours making up lies and throwing back more shots, your head feels heavy now and you stabilize yourself by leaning against the fridge. Kelsie has run off to dance to some song with another one of your friends who showed up, you couldn’t stand straight so opted to stay back.

You were so deep in thought you didn’t feel the person moving you away from the fridge and into a seat, your eyes looking around to find Rafe sat next you.

“Oh hey boyfriend!” You laughed, patting his solid chest and ogling him shamelessly. “Hey girlfriend”.

The words send goosebumps all over your skin, tingles running down your legs. You give him a soft smile and accept the bottle of water he hands you.

“So I’m going to take you to a room upstairs because I don’t trust any of these guys especially as you're just about floating off that chair, we can talk in the morning”.

You're nodding your head and letting him scoop you from the chair, your head nuzzles into the crook of his neck and the moment his foot hits the first step your out like a light.

Tag list- @laylasbunbunny @h34rtsformilli @lydiasxxsworld @hallecarey1 @mountloverr @outerbankspov @cameronmedia @crunchy-leaves77 @vigilanteshitposting @pedrisgatorade @phoenixssugarbaby @rafemotherfuckingcameron @s-we-e-t-t-ea @rafesthroatbaby @alltoomay @moremaybank @drewstarkeysbae @alltoomay @mrssturnioloo @vigilanteshitposting @darleneslane @tierra-0604 @xo-hayleyy-xo @ethereal0810 @eliana772 @gabys-gabs @applelovesposts @starkey-zegras @definitelynotholly-blog @renmpsworld @delicatepiratecloud @hdhdhsy @speedycomputerfury @tiacordelia02 @loverofdrewstarkey @bbycowboi @teresalesbian @imnotpretzelsstuff @its-ria-07 @cameronmedia @crunchy-leaves77 @pedrisgatorade (If you no longer want to be tagged please let me know and if you want to be tagged please comment here )

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satocidal · 5 months

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𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ “Wanna Play Doctor?” — Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto

Synopsis: a simple visit to the doctor—except the Nurse is rather…provocative and the Doctor isn’t exactly the one you made the appointment with <3

— word count: 1.2k

— a/n: pulled this out of my ass after seeing nurse Kenny—almost had fem! Geto here but eh—hope y’all like; tagging @romiyaro @driaswrld (don’t ask me why)

— warnings: MDNI!!AFAB! reader x stsg; dub-con; idk unethical medicinal practice; fingering with latex gloves; spanking; threesome(?); pussy inspection; name calling (slut and Ma’am —derogatory); Nurse Geto x Reader x Doctor Gojo; orgasm denial (hinted)

“Bend over for the inspection please,” his voice was smooth, calming—everything he didn’t seem to be in the moment.

Hesitation masked you, “what?” Baffled, you stood eyes panning onto the “S. Geto” name tag that he wore.

“Bend over Ma’am, for the inspection, or would you prefer to begin with the chest first?”

A blank expression you passed, “inspection of what exactly?” You felt your eye twitch all so much, “are you even qualified for it- I- what- where’s the doctor?”

“A full body inspection Ma’am,” his smile only thinned—“that’s what you requested for, yes?”

It was true, but then- not like this, never like this.

“And as for the doctor, he’ll be joining us soon,”

He?

You were sure you made the appointment for Dr. Ieiri—not some guy who would- well, anyways, it was unethical right? No doctor, male or female, they would never allow this.

You thought.

“Bend over please,” his words repeated, and despite yourself, you let his large hands, all so strong—rough, bend you over the desk-you were sure this was not the protocol but oh and well.

It felt, sincerely, embarrassing to be sprawled across this way, his fingers almost dancing over your back and spine—pushing and pulling, massaging what felt like forever.

“You’ve got a nice form, Ma’am- you work out?” However, before a response was to fall off your lips, a sudden smack landed on your ass- a sharp gasp it elicited.

“Excuse you!?” To turn about- to rush away, your mind yearned to just pull away from the man behind you—but just the way, right after the smack your rear pushed into him all the more—just the way he casually pinned your arms behind your back—only to land another sharp slap.

It was addicting.

A small chuckle he let out, “calm down, just appreciatin’ what I see—it’s nice and firm huh? Rather fuckable, Ma’am,” his words had blood rushing to your face, warm—everything felt warm.

All the more, simultaneous squeeze and grope—Nurse Geto had you on your toes, literally.

“P-please,” a whimper you let out, “I- I can’t- lemme go,” another grin, another chuckle—“oh but you wanted this Ma’am, you requested it—and I haven’t even thoroughly begun yet.”

You weren’t sure what all he was to do, you didn’t want to find out—but fuck, you did too, at the same time.

His hand kneaded the fat of your ass, “fuck, you feel s’good—bet you’re like a slut huh?”

“No,” your words dragged, “m’not i- I don’t - I’m good I swear,” another slap, “you are, are you?”

Just then, the door swung open- so did your eyes, fear, relief and then fear again when your yes caught the figure walking in.

Sure, it was a doctor, not the one you expected is all.

A grin he adorned as well, “Hello there,” he greeted, casually sitting on the seat right across the table, across you—almost as if it was a casual Wednesday.

“Morning Doc’” the man behind you grinned as well- Dr. Gojo, you caught from his name tag.

“D-doctor I- please tell him to get off me- th-this can’t be acceptable right-” your words came to a sudden pause, his finger running by the curve of your cheek- “shh,” the same finger now pressed against your lips, “calm down Ma’am, you’re making quite the commotion.”

And just like that, a sudden quiet- help for the slap Geto landed on your ass to emphasis the silence.

Both men shared a quick smile—“there ya go, so pliant,” Geto murmured from behind you, “what seems to be the problem?” Gojo spoke the same, getting up.

“Just a little nervous, I’m not sure why though- whores like this usually just accept it-”

“I- I’m not a slut,” your words sounded defiant, both men giggled, “sure you aren’t,” Gojo grinned as his hand too, much like Geto massaged your ass.

“Wanna take away from your here?” Geto questioned, slowly moving to the front, to face you—fuck, he was handsome and maybe, just maybe like all the other whores, you’d also give in soon.

“Gonna check her inside out now,” You heard the Doctor mutter, eyes widening as your heard the snap of latex gloves over his fingers—“just precautionary Ma’am,” Geto replied from beside you.

You wanted to scream, to move—you could, it would be easy—they weren’t holding you down or such but then again, you didn’t want to.

Not even when Gojo’s fingers moved quick—lowering all the was your shame and dignity, quick in the way he lowered your panties and jeans down to your ankles.

A wolf-whistle he let out, your ears were flaming as he motioned Geto over as well, “look at that,” they murmured, you wanted to hide away—all so aware of what they were looking at.

All so aware of just how wet there slight touches that had gotten you, just how aroused you were bent over to be gazed and gawked by—just how the string of your arousal was being admired that strung from your pussy lips down to the gusset of your g-string.

“Fuck, you always wear such slutty panties Ma’am? Important question for the inspection is all,” the giggle in his voice was so evident, in Gojo’s — knowing you wouldn’t respond at the way he slowly was pumping in his finger into your gaping hole, his finger sliding in all so easy.

“Those hand prints look so cute,” the doctor groaned, hit breath fanning onto your hole as Geto moved back to caress your face once again, “told ya I was doing a good job,” Geto smiled softly, two of his fingers parting your lips.

So while Dr. Gojo teased your slit, your wet opening, Nurse Geto teased your hot mouth, making you suck on his fingers nice and slow—“girls like you always feel so good wrapping their mouths round my cock- fuck,” he hissed, as you pulled away, a string of your spit lining onto the base of the fingers.

A moan you let out too, as Gojo chose to simply press onto your pussy, pressing down on the folds and spreading wide your folds, drawing slow circles on your clit.

“Geto C’mere,” he called out quick- the Nurse grinning as he did so, “look at how she’s clenching round nothing when I do this,” you moaned aloud as he circled your clit thrice in clockwise direction and then the other way round—your hole clenching shamelessly, just as he’d predicted.

“Shit- she’s so hot,” you heard the nurse mumble from behind- “do it again,” he commended the doctor, and he did, and you clenched again too, except this time round two of his fingers that he’d shoved into your hole.

“Right?” The pair snickered behind you, Gojo smaking your ass just again as Geto pulled away, your whine falling on their ears.

“Wanna cum ma’am?” One of them asked, you weren’t sure who—a drunken “yes please,” you squeaked out- “not until the inspection is over though,” he, Gojo, you were sure giggled—“gotta know the whore truly is a whore everywhere.”

And just like that, the sound of Geto’s hand slapping your warmed up ass once again and Gojo’s latex bound fingers pumping into you, a wonderful squelching noise filled the small cramped up room.

The Doctor and the Nurse shared another smile behind you as you moaned in your ecstasy—they had to let Shoko allow them to all this another time for sure.

All of this work is original and entirely my own please refrain from copying or reposting. Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!

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kisakis-boyfriend · 6 months

Text

Oh, To Be A Harbinger

Pairings: Various Fatui grunts x reader

Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, harbinger!reader, sub/bottom characters, power play, free use, groping, blowjob (Mirror Maiden), choking (Agent), fingering, rough sex, eating out, use of the terms 'whore, slut, good boy/girl, sir'

Genre/Format: Smut; Scenarios

Author's Note: Please tell me that I'm not the only person who's insanely horny for the Fatui enemies...? They're all so incredibly gorgeous and submissive and breedable 😳

Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!

Most harbingers were known for something; some niche or expertise that they so proudly flaunt as if it were a trophy. You were a bit different, however. On the surface, you appeared to be 'the sweet one.' All of the others saw their subordinates as just that; subordinates. Pawns to do their menial work, at their beck and call 24/7

But not you. No, no, no, you were the harbinger that cared. You were the one to learn all of your subordinates' names and memorize them, casually chatting with all of them and helping them at times. People were always begging to be transferred to work under you, pleading with the Tsaritsa on their hands and knees. She never understood what got into them. Was being treated with kindness really all it took to gain complete submission from a person?

On the outside, everything was innocent. Your subordinates were called into your office and left ten minutes to several hours later with a smile. But those that were under your command knew the truth. Their hushed whispers reached the ears of harbingers and their subordinates alike

The truth is...

The truth is, your subordinates signed contracts to become your free use sluts. Not every single one, necessarily, but once the word spread about how good the sex was (and the aftercare), more contracts were eventually signed as you amassed a harem

The tiny electro cicin mage yelped when you harshly yanked her panties to the side, pushing your fingers into her wet hole immediately. She didn't expect to run into her boss on this particular patrol...and she was super embarrassed when you caught her stroking a finger over the panties of her uniform, gasping her boss's name as a dark spot grew on the clothing

Mewls of shame and pleasure slipped from her mouth while you sunk in deeper, knuckle deep in her pussy and scissoring your digits. The contrast of your slow fingering and the way you furiously rubbed her clit caused her to cum so fast. Her knees buckled as the slick ran down her plush thighs, apologizing for cumming without permission. “I-I'm so sorry, s-sir...I didn't mean to...just felt so good...”

Without a word, you grabbed the eager lady's ass and pulled her forward, causing her to stumble a bit. An even deeper blush spread across her cheeks when she noticed that your lips were brushing against her little pussy, as it was hovering just above your face. She opened her mouth to question you but immediately moaned instead, rolling her hips and scrambling to grab your shoulders or hair, anything to support herself while your mouth latched onto her heat

A shrill cry pierced your ears as you ripped a second orgasm from the poor girl. Her cry transitioned into panting and broken begging when you didn't stop after she came, licking her cunt just as vigorously as before while her juices flowed out

You reached an arm up to grab one of her cute tits and squeezed while your tongue worked even deeper inside of her pussy. The overstimulation caused the little thing to actually cry, staining the inside of her mask with salty tears

Dragonspine was known to be a harsh environment to traverse, though not quite as harsh as you were going to be with the beautiful Fatui agent that was on patrol just to the right of the snowy peak

A knife pressed against the fragile flesh of your throat as you accidentally startled your grunt, who was extremely quick to stammer out a profuse apology. “Please forgive me, sir! I-I thought– I thought you were one of those annoying adventurers f-from the Guild...” The man explained, “They've been all over me as of late...”

A single scoff was the only sound that came from you as you pushed the agent up against a rather large tree trunk. He was caged in by your larger form, a realization that caused him to tremble. The next thing that the agent knew, your firm grip wrapped around his windpipe, squeezing all of the air out of his lungs while you used his own knife to cut the man's trousers open

The sounds of the grunt's wheezing and the sloppy wet sounds of your dick fucking into his ass were loudly echoing around the area. You had lifted the agent off of the ground a bit by his neck, pinning him to the tree while you took out your frustrations (mild annoyance) on him

Multiple loads were emptied within the man's walls and promptly fucked deeper inside of him until you were satisfied with your work. Releasing your grip and letting the fucked out slut fall onto the grass, coughing and sucking in sharp breaths

Crouching down to his level, you tilted your subordinate's head up until he met your eyes. Two simple words elicited a pitiful whimper from him: “Good boy~”

Pacing along the soft sands of Nazuchi beach, a mirror maiden was enjoying the serene sounds of the salt water and gentle breeze when her acute sense of hearing caught something else—

“I heard you”

You let out a soft chuckle before putting your hands in the air jokingly, “Ya got me. I hope I didn't startle you too much, darling.” Immediately, the maiden's posture straightened up at the sound of your voice. She apologized for acting hostile as she had no clue who had approached her, erring on the side of caution since there had been quite a few attacks around the beach as of late

“No, no– It's my bad. I should have remembered your crazy good ears. I just–” You began, pausing for a second. Then suddenly your voice went from being several feet in front of the maiden to being directly in her sensitive ear

“–Wanted to see you for a bit, baby. I knew you'd be alone today and I um...I need a little something from you~ ” You purred, pulling the slender woman against your chest while trailing wet kisses all along her neck

The unprepared maiden spent the next hour or two bracing herself against a nearby rock while you pulled her white dress up and penetrated her fat ass. Her pussy dripped with desire while you used her ass as a personal fleshlight, groping her big tits and grunting in her delicate ears because you knew how much she loved it when you took advantage of her impressive sense of hearing

Every thrust inside of her tight hole caused the fat of her cheeks and breasts to bounce and jiggle. The maiden futilely begged for you to use her pussy too, but you had already decided that you were going to deny her that privilege today. Opting for violating her other holes and fucking her breasts if you so desired

Once you had pumped a load into her ass, you spun the woman around and pushed her onto her knees, smacking your wet cock against her cheek. The whore's mouth was the next thing to get pounded as you forced your entire length down her warm throat until it pushed you over the edge again. Your second load poured directly into her stomach since your dick was so far down her throat; poor thing didn't even get a taste of your seed this time...

One time, a fellow harbinger caught you railing one of your subordinates inside of your office

A cute cryo cicin mage was bent over your desk, clutching scattered papers in her nimble hands as your fat cock drilled into her sopping cunt. Wet plap plap sounds were the only thing that the other harbinger could hear — besides the mage's shrill moaning and you groaning — as your fingers curled in her hair and pulled the little thing's head up to meet their shocked face

“Soooo...”

“Either get in here and lock the door or get the fuck out.” You spat, not once slowing down or interrupting your rhythm. The harbinger stepped in somewhat reluctantly. This isn't exactly something that they expected to see...and yet, they found themselves growing hard/wet by the second. Instinctually cupping their groin as a choked moan tried to slip through

“Take that fucking cock, babygirl. Yeah, riiiiight there~ ” You drawled, angling your thrusts so that you were pounding against her sweet spot, pulling all sorts of adorable noises from the sweet mage

Your fellow harbinger couldn't stop their hips from rocking into their touch while they stroked their dick/rubbed their pussy. Not wanting to admit that the sight of their coworker fucking some grunt was actually turning them on. Though it was extremely obvious to you

Speeding up your hips, your thrusts became a bit sloppy as your climax drew closer– Railing the mage harder and causing her ass to turn pink from how hard you were slamming against her until–

“Gooood girl~ ” You growled while spilling inside of your little subordinate. Staring directly into the other harbinger's eyes while your cum painted the mage's walls white

Your coworker couldn't prevent the breathless noise that escaped from their parted lips, flitting their gaze down to your creamy cock when you pulled out of the small lady

Reblogs are extremely appreciated <3

#my writing #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact #fatui #fatui x reader #cicin mage #mirror maiden #fatui agent #harbinger x reader #<- at the end #harbinger reader #male reader #dom reader #top reader #sub character #oneshot

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kamiversee · 1 month

Text

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 48 || The Drama (part 3)

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, semi-angst, & heated tension.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 5k

[ { A/N } ] ➤ Prepare to drop your jaw a few times and possibly take a TikTok break or two ^.^

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——YOUR EYES LOCK WITH Geto’s and his eyebrows immediately rise, the two of you equally surprised to see each other.

Please pretend not to know me, please pretend not to-, “Heyy Gorgeous, what’re you doing here?” Geto greets you, completely forgetting about Yuki who he initially came to meet.

Dammit Suguru, you had one job. Squeezing your eyes shut for a moment, you sigh heavily, “Uh, Hi Suguru…”

Of course, alarms are going off in Choso’s head from the moment he heard a guy’s voice refer to you as gorgeous, quickly turning his head to see just who the fuck you were talking to. He disliked how quickly he got jealous but he couldn’t help himself sometimes, especially when he recognized the face of the man who’d approached the table.

Geto sends a smile to Yuki before taking a seat beside her and across from you. Your heart rate is all over the damn place. How the fuck are you gonna get out of this situation?

Wait no, calm down, Geto wouldn’t say anything crazy right…?

Yuki smacks Geto’s arm playfully as soon as he sits down, “Took ya’ long enough, I was here for like an hour waiting on you!”

Geto rolls his eyes, “You’ll live.”

“Tch,” Yuki scoffs before placing a hand on his shoulder and looking at you, “Well, I would introduce you two but it seems you guys already know each other.”

“Uh,” You’re sweating and you don’t miss how Choso’s staring at the side of your face, “Yeah, we know each other.”

Geto leans back into his seat, comforting himself as he parts his legs and locks eyes with you, “Oh we definitely know each other.”

You grit your teeth. This is going to go so horribly…

Yuki, oblivious to it all, then looks at Choso, “And what about you, Cho? You know this guy too?”

Choso looks at Geto and Geto looks at Choso.

There’s some kinda tension you sense, “Yeah,” Choso scoffs, “I know his shitty ass brother.”

Your brows furrow and you look at Geto, “You didn’t tell me you had a brother.”

Geto chuckles at Choso, “Yours isn’t any better than mine,” He says before returning his sights to you, “And I didn’t tell you because he’s annoying and there was never any reason for me to bring him up.” He explains with a shrug.

You pout, “Still would’ve been nice to know…”

“He’s a weirdo, you wouldn’t like him anyways,” Geto claims.

Choso’s looking at you again, a million thoughts running through his head as you oh so casually talk to Geto. He studies your body language, watching how you sit back and fold your arms under your chest, still pouting.

Do you even realize how you look in the eyes of others? Are you actually aware of how flirtatious your movements come off as? Choso dislikes how blind to your own actions you seem.

Yuki clears her throat, “Anyways guys,” She begins, “Now I’m really curious! Geto, how do you two know each other?” She questions you and the raven-haired man across from you.

Again, the two of you meet eyes and you send him a look. Does he catch this look? Yes and no. Yes, he can tell something’s off but no, that doesn’t stop what comes out of his mouth.

“Hmmm,” He hums in thought before leaning forward to rest his chin in his palm as he refuses to break eye contact with you, “Should I tell our story or should you?” Geto purrs in that pretty tone of his, smiling tauntingly at you.

You hate the way it flusters you too as memory after memory after memory floods your brain, “I mean, t-there’s not much of a story to tell, is there?”

The male tilts his head, completely ignoring the death stare he’s receiving from Choso as his eyes remain on you, “We met through…” He pauses, carefully picking his words, “A friend,” Geto explains.

You nod, your nerves dying down just a little bit, “Right, and then uhm…”

“Then we got close,” Geto continues for you before turning to Yuki, “And became really good friends.”

The sigh of relief you let out doesn’t fail to catch Choso’s ears— he could tell there was more to this story. There was obviously so much sexual tension just oozing from Geto’s eyes every time he looked at you and Choso wasn’t exactly going to let that slip past him.

“Really good friends, huh?” Choso echos.

Your heart jumps and you turn to the man, “Yeah…”

Geto moves his gaze over to Choso and smirks, “Yeah, really good friends.”

The snarky attitude coming from Geto did nothing more than piss Choso off, “That’s it? Just friends?”

The male across from you moves to fold his arms over the table and leans forward a bit, his brows knitting together and a cocky smile spreading across his overly handsome features.

“Just friends…” He repeats, his eyes unwavering as he maintains the visual hold with Choso.

You sigh but your next breath is caught in your throat within seconds.

“…Who fucked from time to time,” Geto added on.

Silence floods the table.

Your face goes hot and your heart sinks past your toes and to hell with how nervous you become. A vein pops out in Choso’s forehead, Yuki’s eyes are wide and she’s got an amused smile on her face, and Geto’s sitting there with a smug expression as he continues to stare Choso down.

“Holy fuck!” Yuki bursts out laughing, breaking the tension completely. She began to wheeze and hit Geto’s arm a few times along with the table because of how hard she was laughing.

She’s cackling and choking on her own laughter before she eventually settles down and looks at you, “So you really do have a type!” She breathes.

Your face is burning in embarrassment, shame, and guilt. “I…”

“Dark-haired depressed-looking men, huh?” Yuki recalls, looking back and forth between Choso and Geto, “Oh this is too good.”

Choso glares for a moment longer before he clicks his tongue, sits back in his seat, and nods. He’s ticked off but, in courtesy of you and knowing he’s not your boyfriend, he tries his best to simmer the emotion.

Well, that was until he looks at you, “Friends who fucked? Seriously?”

You look at him, shame flooding your eyes, “I, uh… I-“

“Is he…” Choso’s eyes narrow and he gives you a look.

You’re unsure of what his look meant but Geto interrupted the moment by speaking yet again, “Is there a problem?”

Choso just barely looks at the guy, “If there was it would’ve been solved by now. Calm yourself.” He voices out in a nonchalant tone.

Geto scoffs, “Oh trust me, I’m calm. Are you?” He questions in return as he quirks a testing brow.

Choso sizes him up and down and then nods, “Yeah.”

You hate yourself for thinking it but the two were kinda hot going back and forth like that.

Yuki is barely holding in her laughter, “Okay so wait-,” She snickers, “Lemme’ get this whole thing straight….” Pointing at Choso, she smiles and looks at you, “He likes you,” She says, moving to point at Geto, “And you’ve fucked him?”

“W-Well, I’ve fucked both of them before, actually,” You correct timidly.

“Slut,” Geto mumbles under his breath playfully. He didn’t mean it in a mean way, of course, he knows the truth behind your situation to some extent.

You look at him, “Pervert.”

“Ha!” Yuki huffs, ��Damn, how do I get myself involved in this love triangle?”

Choso drags his gaze over toward the blonde, “You don’t because there is no love triangle.” He explains. Then, Choso moves to toss an arm over your shoulder and pulls you to him, “Whatever they had goin’ on is dead,” He claims.

Your brows furrow and you look at Choso as your body is held against his, “Cho-“

He looks at you, “Is it not?”

You swallow your words down, “Y-Yeah, it is but-“

“Ohhh, I get it now,” Geto chimes in, “Thisss is why you stopped hooking up with me.” He points out, “I thought Satoru told you to stop or something-“

“Suguru, please.” You utter through gritted teeth as you look at him with begging eyes.

He raises a brow and his face twists up in confusion, “Please what? I just never knew why you stopped calling me to have sex.” Geto shrugs, “Didn’t know you went and found yourself a new fucktoy-“

A vein pops out along Choso’s jawline and he’s trying so very hard not to snap, “Say somethin’ else.” He challenges the male sitting across from you suddenly.

Geto’s eyes flick over to Choso in an instant and he tilts his head, “Fuck are you gonna’ do? I haven’t said anything wrong, have I? Calm yourself.”

Choso scoffs, “I am calm.”

“You look like you’re about to pop a blood vessel over there,” Geto points out, chuckling a bit, “And I don’t get why either? Are you two dating?”

Choso’s starting to hate that question more and more because the answer is still ‘no’ no matter what he says or does. Therefore making his anger seem dramatic and unprovoked.

You decide to answer, “Not yet.”

That’s when it clicks for Geto that he may have crossed a line or two, “Oh? Well, sorry if I offended your soon-to-be boyfriend,” He says with a huff, finding the whole thing entertaining if anything.

Choso rolls his eyes and turns his head to the side. He wants to leave so desperately. He hates Geto, hates Yuki at the moment, and he doesn’t know what he’s feeling toward you.

“I-It’s fine,” You murmur, mustering up your confidence again, “After all, Yuki and Choso used to fuck so I don’t exactly see a problem here…”

Choso’s eyes go wide and he turns his head to you, “Well Yuki didn’t just go blurting it out and she also doesn’t look at me like she wants to rip me out of my clothes.”

You look at him with your brows pinched together, “Why’re you saying this to me like I told Suguru to go and blurt everything out.”

“Cause’ maybe if you told me about this before it’d be less awkward.” Choso fires back. For the first time ever, he’s irritated with you.

“I did.” You huff out, “We had this conversation months ago.”

Yuki and Geto are watching the two of you go back and forth— Yuki snickering and Geto acting as though he were watching some kinda TV show as he carefully eats one of the forgotten cookies on the table.

“Did we?” Choso questions, cocking an eyebrow.

“The same time you told me about Yuki, I told you about Suguru.” You recall the memory like it was yesterday, “I just never said his name.”

“Yeah,” Choso scoffs and rolls his eyes, “I wonder why.”

Your face twists up in annoyance, “Didn’t seem necessary.”

“How’s it seem now?” Choso asks.

You fall quiet and so does he, both of you simply glaring at one another. His arm is still around your shoulder and both of you are upset with each other for the first time.

You dislike how he’s acting about this as if you didn’t tell him there were people you slept with before you started talking to him and Choso can’t stand the fact that one of your old flames is at the table openly flirting with you.

“Damn,” Geto purrs, “You guys are in love, aren’t you?”

Both of you snap out of your challenging stares and turn to look at Geto in sync.

He nudges Yuki’s arm, “Look at ‘em arguing like a true couple. Kinda’ cute, no?” He teases. Deep down, Geto was studying the two of you more than he let on.

Yuki nods in agreement, “Hell yeah, even just now I couldn’t tell if they were about to rip each other apart or if they were about to start making out.”

Is that really how the two of you just seemed to others? Are the feelings you both hold of one another that obvious?

“Hah, y’know what…” Choso breathes, turning his attention to you once more, “Is there anyone else I need to know about?”

You freeze up. Every inch of your body just tenses and since Choso’s arm is still over your shoulder, he notices.

“There is, isn’t there?” He hums.

You glance at Yuki and Geto for a split second before meeting Choso’s questioning gaze, “Can we talk about this some other time and not in front of others?”

The male stares at you for a moment, thinking hard about what you just said before nodding, “Fine…”

“Yup,” Geto chimes in, “You two are adorable.” You both look at the man in sync for a second time and he laughs, genuinely admiring your dynamic, “See? Even your movements are synchronized.”

“Anyway,” Yuki cuts in, “Before this gets too drama-induced, let’s change the subject a bit, yeah?”

All four of you collectively agree upon that seeing as it’d only been a few minutes and things were already going to shit.

Yuki focuses those pretty brown eyes of hers on you, “Though, I did want to ask, you seriously didn’t know Geto had a brother? Thought’ everyone knew that…”

You shrug, “I never really know much outside of what I’m told.”

“Uhuh…” She nods, slowly turning to the man beside her and giving him a nudge with her elbow, “And you didn’t tell her about Kenjaku because…?”

“I already said why.” Geto states simply, “He’s weird and no one likes him.” Then, he makes brief eye contact with Choso, “Well, I guess not no one apparently..”

Choso raises a brow, “Hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Geto tips his head to the side, “You hang out with him, no?”

“He hangs out with me.” Choso clarifies in a way that makes him seem like he’s not too fond of the man they’re talking about.

“Same difference, pigtails.” Geto spits back.

You kick Geto’s leg beneath the table and he winces before looking at you, quickly met with a look of warning. To which, he rolls his eyes.

Meanwhile, you’re also wondering how you haven’t crossed paths with the brother these three seem to be talking about… Or, any of Choso’s friends for that matter.

“Enough about my brother though,” Geto’s leaning back into his seat and he huffs out a sigh, “Heard’ yours almost got arrested last week.”

Your brows furrow and you decide to play innocent for only a moment, “What?”

Yuki starts nodding, “Yeah, I think he tried to kill someone this time-“

“Can we stop talking about him.” Choso requests. However, his words come off as a statement instead of a question.

You look at Choso, “Cho, what’re they talking about?”

The hairs on his body begin to stand up and he feels goosebumps surfacing. Choso keeps his head straight ahead, his eyes down at the table as he realizes he’s never told you about Sukuna.

Of course, you already know about the guy but from Choso’s perspective, you’re completely lost.

“Uhm.” Choso swallows, “I-“

“Wait,” Yuki cuts off, “You didn’t even tell her about your older brother?!” She questions loudly, tilting her head in a disappointed manner.

Choso feels himself shrinking in his seat, “You know why and that demon of a person is not my brother.”

You turn to Choso. If not for the list, you actually wouldn’t have known anything about Sukuna so, for some reason, it kinda upsets you as you think about how he didn’t open up to you about that man at all. And it’s even worse that everyone else seems to know except for you…

“Older brother?” You ask, tilting your head at Choso.

He avoids eye contact with you, “Don’t worry about it.”

Yuki scoffs, “Holy shit, your type is becoming scary consistent here. I mean, two dark-haired depressed lookin’ men who both never bothered to open up to ya’ about their family?” She points out to you.

You play off her words, “Yeah and I’d like to know why. You’ve told me about all your other brothers but failed to mention an older one.”

“He’s not my brother,” Choso repeats, almost as though he refuses to say anything else.

You narrow your eyes at him. Why is he lying about it and denying his relation to Sukuna? “You’re clearly lying and I don’t understand..”

“Just drop it, princess.” Choso sighs, softening his tone with you so that he doesn’t reveal how irritated he’s becoming.

You scoff, “You could at least tell me why you haven’t mentioned him before?”

“And you could at least drop the fuckin’ subject,” Choso curses, his eyes meeting yours.

Unlike earlier when you two bickered, it was getting a bit more serious. Something about the topic of Sukuna irked Choso to no end and whatever it is about their relationship, he didn’t want to share with you.

Naturally, knowing you already have one guy who keeps shit from you, you do not want to deal with another. Plus, this is the last thing you expected from Choso, he usually tells you everything so…

“What’s the big deal?” You ask, your face contorting into something both confused and concerned, “If you have an older brother, I feel like I should know who it is.”

“Right, and I feel like I should know all the guys you’ve fucked but it seems like not everyone gets what they want,” He fires back.

Oh something’s clearly off with Choso because in any other situation, he’d never say such a thing like that to you. Hell, even as the words left his lips, he regretted it but he wasn’t going to apologize just yet— he was too aggravated to do so.

And you, being the woman you are who doesn’t exactly take shit like this from anyone, you allow your tongue to slip just as he did, “Ever consider the possibility that he could be one of them and that’s why I want to know who he is?”

Geto lets out a whistle in complete shock, Yuki’s eyes are as wide as ever and her jaw is dropped, while Choso…

His arm comes off you and he instantly shoots up to his feet, taking a step backward and out of the booth with a face that almost seems as though he’s repulsed by what just came out of your mouth.

“The fuck did you just say?!” Choso shouts, anger taking over his expression at the suggestion of what you just told him.

His brows are tightly knit together, his fists have balled up, and his glare is so damn intense that for a moment, and only a moment, you not only felt fear but also as though you were shrinking under his gaze.

Even so, you still won’t allow Choso to yell at you the way he just did, “First off, calm the hell down, I didn’t say I fucked him, I said it’s a possibility.”

“How? How the hell is that even a possibility?!” He yells again.

“Because I’ve slept around before Choso. I’m not saying I had sex with the guy yesterday, I’m saying that at one point I was a freshman in college and explored myself the same way most people do!” You huff out to him, “So how about you sit the hell down and talk to me like you have some fuckin’ sense?”

He tilts his head at you and his eyes narrow. Choso opens his mouth but then he quickly shuts it. Even through his anger, he could only look at you like this for so long before the sight of your equally upset expression got to him.

His glare lasts for a second longer and Yuki leans toward the table to whisper, “Guys, you’re kinda’ causing a scene here…”

Choso looks around the cafe to see the few other people there looking over at the booth. To which, he only gets even more aggravated, “Fuck are you all staring at?” He spat.

Most of them pretended as though they hadn’t been just staring and returned to whatever they were doing. Meanwhile, you reach a hand over and grab Choso’s wrist before pulling him back into his seat.

For someone who you earlier couldn’t move against, he seemed to be moved by your tug rather easily and was quickly sat back down. He then goes as far as smacking your hand away from him in a way that says he didn’t want you touching him.

And that… that right there was what really did it for you, “I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you, Choso, but I swear you have ten seconds to start explaining shit to me or I’m leaving.” You want him, your tone cold.

Choso scoffs and inches his face toward yours, “I fuckin’ dare you,” He challenges, “Leave me. Go ahead. All you’ll be leaving me for is some asshole who’s treated you like shit.”

Oh his words were so true that they were starting to sting. It was starting to get bad and both of you were on the verge of blowing up on the other.

“Excuse me?” You utter in disbelief.

“Did I stutter? You said there was someone else right? And whoever he is he’s an asshole right?” Choso recalls, “So if you wanna leave then do it. Leave.”

You grit your teeth, “I don’t understand why you’re being like this right now when all you have to do is tell me about your-“

“I’m not obligated to tell you shit about my family,” He cuts off, scoffing afterward, “Cause’ uh, I’m not sure if you forgot but you're not my girlfriend, remember?”

You nod and that agitated smile begins to spread across your face, “Right, and I sure as hell won’t ever be if you don’t explain yourself to me.”

Choso hesitates at the sound of that. You had him there completely. No longer could Choso keep it from you, especially not when the prospect of being your boyfriend was on the line.

Damnit, “My ‘older brother’s’ name is Sukuna,” He finally tells you, tipping his head to the side, “There? Happy now?”

“No, actually.” You murmur.

Choso grows confused, “And why’s that? What is it now-“

“Cause’ I've had sex with him.” You blurt out.

Okay. It may be confusing as to why you just told him that. You could have lied. Hell, maybe you should’ve lied. But, given the situation, it was in your best interest to put the information out there from now.

When else would you get such an opportunity to do so? And if you later tell him, he’d only be more hurt if you didn’t tell him sooner.

“You what?” Choso breathes. His heart dropped. Anger hadn’t quite struck him yet because he wasn’t sure he heard correctly just now.

“I said I’ve had sex with him-“

Choso shoots to his feet again. His hands go up to his hair and he pushes some of the stray strands back a bit, trying to process what he just heard. “You… Y-You slept with…” His breathing grows erratic and his eyes just barely meet yours, “Tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not,” You say, your voice small. You could only hold this in for so long. You’d need to get this out eventually, “I-“

“You slept with that piece of shit?!” Choso yells again, almost like he can’t believe his own ears.

Geto tries to defuse the situation, “Hey, quit yellin’, we’ll get kicked out-“

“Don’t fuckin’ talk to me,” Choso fires his way before settling his anger back to you, “A-And you, you had sex with… You… Sukuna? Itadori Sukuna? The one with the face tats and pink hair? O-Of all f-fuckin’ people…” He stammers out.

“I didn’t know he was your brother,” You lie, “A-And again, it’s not like I did this yesterday-“

“None of that matters,” Choso heaves out, “T-That’s not the point. Do you have any idea who the hell you had sex with? Forget that he’s related to me, I don’t give a shit about that part, it’s the person he is and the shit he’s done t-that just makes me so… s-so fuckin’ angry that you’d ever even...”

His words fall off his tongue and he visibly grows disgusted. Though, you weren’t sure if that was directed toward you.

“Okay, wait.” You breathe out, moving to stand up just as he has, “If you’re not upset because I slept with him and he’s your brother then… what is it?”

“You seriously don’t know?” Choso asks blankly, confused how you could be so out of the loop.

You blink, “Obviously not?” Your reaction held nothing but the truth because, honestly, you never knew why people kept calling Sukuna an asshole when he was rather sweet to you-

“So you mean to tell me you’ve never heard anything about Sukuna before sleeping with him?” Choso questions.

You shake your head, “No. A-And from what I experienced he wasn’t a bad guy like he keeps being painted as-“

“Not a bad guy?!” Choso shouts, “Are you fuckin’ dense?”

You grow frustrated that he’s yelling at you in such a way. Sure he technically isn’t in the wrong here but if he’s coming from the perspective that you knew nothing and he never told you, he’s wrong for his reaction.

Had it not been for the list and you were truly confused, which you still somewhat are, Choso would still be wrong for being so angered like this as if you knew any better.

And sure, it was manipulative of you to pretend not to know but you needed to get the important parts of the truth out there and you needed to know why the hell Choso never opened up to you about this before.

“Dense?” You scoff, “No, I’m not fuckin’ dense, Choso. I’m confused. For someone who just loves their brothers, you not only failed to ever tell me about this one but also seemed to forget that I only know so much about the guy. I didn’t date him, I fucked him, that’s two different things-“

“So?” He scoffs, “How do you even sleep with someone like him? I can’t believe you.”

“Choso, what part of I don’t know what kinda’ guy he really is, do you not understand?” You exclaim, “Maybe if you just tell me what he’s done I can understand.”

Choso nods and then clicks his tongue, glancing off to the side for a moment before moving to take a step toward you, “Tell you what he’s done, yeah? You wanna’ know why no one fuckin’ likes him? Wanna’ know why people fear him? Hm?”

“I want to know something-“

“He’s a criminal,” Choso tells you, his voice low as he nears you, “But that’s just the tip of the damn iceberg, princess.”

You swallow hard and Choso steps even closer, “O-Okay, there are plenty of criminals out there, not to defend him of course but I don’t see how that-“

“He’s hit women before,” He explains further as he gets closer to you.

“Bullshit,” You spit. Why did you say it like that? Was there some secret attachment or need to defend Sukuna inside you that you were unaware of?

“Bullshit?” Choso’s right in front of you at this point, “Baby, I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”

“I-“

“And you wanna know what else?” Choso whispers, leaning down to you, “Wanna know what makes him all the more insufferable?”

You swallow carefully, “W-What is it?”

“Well,” Choso tips his head to the side, “Imagine you had a younger stepbrother who you love more than anything in the world, with that younger brother comes an older asshole who not only bullies everyone he knows but also lays his hands on people…”

“Choso, a-are you saying he-“

“Yes.” He cuts off, “Sukuna doesn’t just fight random people, no. His favorite person to beat up on and fucking abuse is his twelve-year-old little brother.”

That’s when it all hits you. You now understand Choso’s hate for Sukuna.

“So, yeah, that’s the guy you fucked,” Choso says finally before straightening himself up, “Not just my older step-brother but also an abusive piece of shit.”

“Choso, I-“

“Nah,” He scoffs, “Save it. If that’s the kinda’ guys you’re into…” Choso simply trails off, he doesn’t even know what to say so he just shrugs, “I dunno’ baby, just… fuck, leave me out of it.”

He doesn’t mean that, does he?

You wish. You wish he didn’t mean that but as you stand there with wide confused eyes, Choso backs away before turning and just leaving.

The cafe is quiet and you didn’t even know what to do at first.

That was until, Geto leans forward against the table and whispers to you, “Go after him, idiot.”

You whip your head around to the man, “Y-You’re the one who brought this all up, y’know…” You say with a trembling voice.

Your emotions are all over the damn place, from regret to sorrow to annoyance to confusion and then even to just plain sadness.

“Yeah, yeah, I know but the longer you stand there crying, the further he gets and the less time you have to explain yourself.” Geto points out in that soothing tone of his.

Water only wells up further in your eyes and you wish you never told Choso about what you did with Sukuna, “Suguru I c-can’t explain anything to him-“

“Yes you can,” He hums, and based on the look in his eyes, you finally get it.

Geto was acting as though this was all planned out…

“You…” Your eyes narrow, “You did all that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“He’s getting further awayyy,” Geto hums sweetly.

Damnit, you wish you could’ve stayed longer to dissect why the hell he just did all that but, your body moves on its own and you sigh and turn to run after Choso.

“You’ll thank me later!” Geto yells out to you finally.

Would you?

Would you really thank him later?

Or, was this about to be the end of your relationship with Choso?

GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ITADORI SUKUNA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???

NANAMI KENTO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙙

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@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx

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theragethatisdesire · 11 months

Text

pretty girl - jean kirschtein x afab!reader - 18+!!!

there's def more eren coming but while that's in the works please enjoy the result of the jean brainrot i experienced the other day. fair warning- it's going to get pretty rough, but that's what you asked him for ;)

pairing: reader x jean kirschtein

wc: 4.6k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, established relationship (jean's ur gorgeous bf lucky u), unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, pretty rough sex, vaginal fingering, biting, dirty talk, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, daddy kink, use of names (pretty girl, crybaby, good girl), very dom jean, multiple orgasm, dacryphilia/crying, creampie

this one was super fun and is very tasty u guys enjoy <3

-> be there in 5 babe :)

You are not looking forward to this, to say the least. You pace madly around your little apartment in a massive t-shirt and sweatpants covering the skimpiest lingerie set you own. It’s got all the bells and whistles: a matching garter belt, lace in all the right places, stockings that come up to where your plush thighs are the fattest. You should be looking forward to this, you tell yourself, candles lit and ambient lighting ready to go. You have a gorgeous boyfriend who’s going to “be here in five”, and you should be brimming with excitement. But…you’re just not.

Jean’s been in your life for a few months now. What had started as a run-in at the coffee shop around the corner had turned into candlelit dinners, movie marathons, and exclusive titles, and you adore him. His sandy brown hair, the tattoo on his strong bicep, pretty hazel eyes– Jean’s sexy, loving, sarcastic, attentive, literally everything you could ask for in a boyfriend. Except when it comes to your sex life, that is.

The sex isn’t bad per se, you just can’t shake the feeling that he’s holding something back from you. He’s almost too perfect; he’s gentle with you, always taking care to ask permission before touching you, chaste kisses as he slides in, hand-holding in missionary. He cums every time, immune to the whiskey-dick you’d expect from his bourbon drinking habit, so you know he’s enjoying himself, but he doesn’t always seem all there. The fire just isn’t in him, and you know he has that side to him. You’ve seen those hazel eyes you love so much blaze, in a heated argument, at the gym. Why it doesn’t happen in your intimate moments is beyond you, it’s like he’s afraid to break you, like he’s not doing everything–

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Shit, knocking on your front door is what he’s doing.

You take one last look in the mirror: hair’s casual, but still sexy, makeup to a minimum, all straps and lace covered up by your inconspicuous pajamas. Time to potentially ruin your relationship.

“Hey beautiful,” Jean greets you with an innocent smile, “you look cozy.”

“Feel cozy,” you accept his kiss, chewing on your lip as he comes in. Your heart’s pounding in your ears; poor thing has no idea what’s to come. Maybe it’ll go well, you think; false hope might be the only thing that gets you to pull through with your plan.

“Have any movie ideas for tonight? I was thinking Hereditary, but only if you’re not too chicken…” Jean raises his eyebrows, a taunting smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Ha! If only he knew all of the things you aren’t “too chicken” for.

You smile weakly, stomach churning. “Maybe. Can we just…can we just talk for a sec?”

Jean’s playful demeanor drops instantly, replaced by a faint frown. “What about?”

You amble over to the couch, playing with the strings of your sweatpants anxiously. How the fuck are you even supposed to bring this up? Your mind’s racing so quickly it draws a blank, and before you can stop yourself, you blurt: “Sex.”

“Sex?” Jean’s cheeks tinge pink. He hasn’t shaved in probably a week, a shadow covering his sharp jawline. God, he’s gorgeous, you can’t mess this up, you really can’t.

“Yeah,” you confirm, “sex. Our sex, to be clear.”

“I figured as much,” Jean’s sat himself beside you now, one eyebrow raised suspiciously. He’s not upset, not yet, but you’ve definitely caught him off guard.

“I– I feel like we’re on different pages,” you stammer– fuck you are so bad at this, “I just feel like sometimes you’re so…gentle, and you don’t necessarily, like, have to be?”

Jean’s frowning full on now, a precious little wrinkle appearing in the center of his forehead. You’ve hurt him, and your heart sinks. Probably should have started with the pros. “Like…what do you mean, by ‘don’t have to be gentle’?”

“Our sex life is great,” you try to smile enthusiastically, as if you don’t actually want to blow your brains out right now, “please don’t think I’m saying you’re bad in bed or anything. I just, like– okay, for example, have you ever tried anything rough?”

His mouth is a flat line. “Like what?”

“Like, handcuffs, or roleplay, any of that stuff.”

“What have you tried?” His voice is even, collected, but there’s something simmering in him that you can’t put your finger on. It’s not anger, but it tastes similar, running in the same vein but not quite there. It’s your turn to feel your face warm.

“I mean, I’ve tried handcuffs before. Some light slapping, spanking.” You’re twiddling your thumbs, confessing into your lap. You can feel his eyes on you.

“That it?”

“I guess.”

“Did you…enjoy that kind of stuff?” He’s taking the bait. You finally meet his gaze and it ignites a little fire in your stomach; he’s never looked at you this intensely, brows pinched together like you’re a puzzle he’s trying to figure out. All of these little mannerisms are tells, you’re intuitive enough to know that, but exactly what he’s trying to convey you just can’t figure out.

“Yeah.”

“How rough are we talking, here?” Jean sounds deeper than normal, the slightest bit of strain to his words. That’s definitely new; Jean’s the most unshakeable person you’ve ever met.

“If I’m making you uncomfortable, I–”

“You’re not making me uncomfortable,” an easy chuckle floats out of his mouth, “just trying to feel you out is all.”

Your brows furrow. “Feel me out?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “I’m surprised, that’s all.”

“Surprised?” Your nose wrinkles. “Did I ever give off the impression that I was, like, super vanilla or something?”

“No,” he laughs again, a bit of the tension melting from the room, “no, not that. We’re just still pretty new, that’s all. Wasn’t going to whip out everything in my toolbox ‘til I knew you were okay with it.”

That piques your interest; you think you’d very much like to see what’s in this toolbox of his. “So you do like some of this stuff?”

Jean rolls that thought over in his mind for a beat before responding, a suspicious smirk that you can’t read tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, I guess you could say I like some of this stuff.”

“We’re back to my original question then: what do you like?”

“I’m more worried about what you like,” Jean says, “especially since you won’t come right out and say it. Gonna make me guess?”

That’s your Jean, blunt as ever. The fire in your stomach sparks and spits at the conversation, teasing and tempting. There’s something playful to his words; you can’t shake this feeling that you’re missing something, that he’s toying with you, but you like it. You let him keep pushing, see where he’s leading you. “Sure, guess.”

“Do you like…” Jean trails off, examining you with his chin nestled between his thumb and index finger, “to be dominant?”

“No.”

“Submissive, then.”

“Yeah.” He likes that, you can tell by the way his eyes glint at you. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip.

“Like to be tied up?”

“Already told you about the handcuffs.”

“I bet you have a praise kink.”

That has you flustered. There’s a sinking sensation in your stomach that you’ve underestimated him, waded out too deep into the water, but fuck it, you’re already here. “How’d you know?”

Jean smiles, pleased. “I just do. Overstimulation?”

“Sure.”

“Orgasm denial? Degradation?”

“If I deserve it.” It’s a bold answer, but it makes Jean suck in a sharp “fuck” between his teeth. Oh yes, you’ve definitely underestimated him.

“You like to be punished, don’t you?” His hand has traveled up to cup your jaw, thumb playing absentmindedly with your bottom lip. There’s an anticipatory warmth gathering between your legs, and the air between you both is practically crackling, charged by the tension thrumming through both of your bodies.

“Yes,” it comes out in a breath, almost pathetic, but you can’t help yourself. He looks so good, always does, and now he’s grazing his eyes over you like he wants to take a bite.

“You know how safewords work?” You nod a bit too eagerly. “Ours is going to be red, okay?”

“Okay,” you’re agreeing, but you aren’t entirely sure what to, caught up in the soft rubbing of his thumb over your mouth.

“If your mouth is,” a deep breath shakes through his frame, “occupied, give me a sharp pinch with your nails.”

“I can do that,” the tension between you is palpable now, the room’s so hot that you’re surprised your wallpaper isn’t peeling off.

“Go to your room,” Jean releases you, eyes dark and hungry, “take your clothes off and wait for me on the bed. I’ll be in soon.”

You follow his instructions without thinking twice, as if a switch has flipped in your brain. Maybe it was his tone, an authoritative way of speaking that threatens consequence, or maybe you’re just so ready to see what this perfect boyfriend of yours has been hiding all this time. As you’re getting undressed, you realize he still doesn't know about your lingerie. You bite back a smile, kneeling on the bed. This is going to be so good.

A minute or so ticks by slowly, and just when your legs are starting to ache, Jean’s entering your room. His face darkens in a way you’ve never seen before when he sees your little get up; lightning shoots through your core.

“Put on a pretty outfit just for me?”

“Mhm,” you hum.

“That’s good,” he says in that slow drawl of his, “good girl.”

He’s only testing the waters, but you can feel your body viscerally react to the little pet name, shifting on your knees to mask your desperate attempt for friction, dampness spreading in your panties. Jean sees right through your act, smirking.

Jean joins you in undressing, slipping his shirt over his head. You take your time admiring his torso; miles of long, lean muscle, little ripples by his ribs trailing into a ridiculous six-pack. Jean’s a confessed gym rat, and it shows in every little line along his body. You have to blink and look away before you start salivating.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Jean scolds, tilting your head up towards him, “eyes on me, got it?”

“Got it,” you answer. Jean frowns.

“That’s not very nice,” he says, “try again.”

You go out on a limb. “Yes, sir.”

Jean’s eyes glint again in that mean, pretty way you saw earlier. You did good, you did good for him. “Much better. Get on the floor.”

You slide off of your mattress, practically buzzing with anticipation, settling on your knees in front of him. A low groan rumbles in Jean’s chest.

“Look so good like that, my pretty girl.”

Oh, you really like that, nuzzling against his hand on your head. Jean smiles down at you, inching his pants down until that little thatch of brown hair starts revealing itself. “Open up for me, nice and wide.”

Your jaw’s dropped, mouth open and tongue out, expectant. Jean smiles wider, sharp and dangerous, pulling his cock out for you. He taps the head against your tongue a few times, even slaps you with it, facade faltering for a fraction of a second to gauge your reaction. You’re good for him, sitting still and patient with your mouth still open, a drop of drool starting to slide off the end of your tongue. Jean makes a sound that’s somewhere between a groan and a chuckle.

“Oh, you’re an obedient little thing, aren’t you?” Your panties grow impossibly wetter, you wiggle on your thighs under him, earning yourself another slap of his cock on your tongue, heavy and drooling. “Gonna fuck this pretty face, okay?”

You close your mouth around his head, sucking lightly to show your approval. He’s not even touched you, not so much as a kiss, and your brain’s foggy, running like a hamster on a wheel chasing the circular thought of be good, be good, be good. Jean grabs your hair none-too-gently, tugging it at the roots, and starts canting his hips towards your mouth, muttering under his breath about how good you are, how good your mouth feels on him.

You lower your jaw ever so slightly, and before long, Jean’s picking up speed, knocking your gag reflex here and there and making you cough around him. He doesn’t seem overly concerned; in fact, he grins cruelly down at you when he hits an extra-sensitive spot, making you hunch and gag on him.

“Look at my pretty girl, so happy getting her mouth fucked,” he hisses when you moan around him, feeling the vibrations up his cock. He’s moving faster now, rougher than he’s ever been. You’re gagging with some regularity, tears welling up in your eyes and threatening to spill down your cheeks. You expect him to let up, give you some air, but it only spurs him on, and before you know it, there are thick streams of tears running down your face. Your jaw aches, your knees burn, but you stay, letting him use you how he pleases.

“Fucking crying on me,” Jean growls, “my cock too much for you?”

You try to answer with a shake of your head, but he’s relentless, fingers tightening in your hair and cock shoving to the back of your throat, making you retch.

“No, you love it, don’t you? My little crybaby.”

You’re so wet you can feel it gathering on the insides of your thighs, entirely soaked through your panties. You move your hips subtly, this way and that, desperate for friction. Jean notices, pulling out of your mouth but staying connected by a string of your spit.

“You squirming, pretty girl? Need some attention?”

“Yes, sir,” you rasp, nodding eagerly. Jean helps you up onto the bed, lays you back against his chest facing the mirror on top of your wardrobe. It’s a terribly lewd sight; you spread out in front of him, face swollen and teary, the telltale glisten of wetness glittering on your thighs.

Jean slides a hand down your body, rubbing you over your panties and nibbling at your ear. “You’re gonna watch me make you cum, and if I see you look away, I’m fucking you ‘til I cum, and you’re not getting a damn thing. Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” your voice wobbles pathetically. Jean seems to like it; his cock twitches in interest against your back. He pushes your panties to the side, flicking his fingers faster over your clit. Embarrassingly enough, you’re already nearing your halfway point from the face-fucking, moaning and grinding up into his palm.

“Need something?”

“Mhm,” you grit out, jaw clenched. Jean slaps your pussy; not too hard, but firm enough to make you jolt, bring you a moment of clarity.

“Manners,” he reminds you sharply.

“I’m sorry, I– can I please have a finger?”

Jean’s placated, slides one finger into you and laughs hot against your neck at the obscene sound that tears from your throat. “What do we say when we get what we ask for?”

“Thank you– fuck, thank you,” your words are coming out in puffs of breathe. Jean has long, skilled fingers, a fact you’re already familiar with, but the position he’s put you in has you dripping onto the sheets: forcing you to watch as he pumps in and out of you, grinding into your clit with the heel of his hand. You’ll be lucky if you last another minute.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? My pretty girl likes being full, right?” Jean murmurs, hot against the shell of your ear. “Tell me.”

“Yes, sir, I– I like it, I need– fuck!”

“What do you need?” Jean coos, entertained, as if he’s not unraveling you with just the one.

“I want one m-more finger, please,” you stutter, relieved you’re able to get the words out at all.

“Learning so fast,” Jean kisses your shoulder, granting your wish. His fingers are thick, the slight stretch making you throw your head back against his shoulder, hips rolling into his hand of their own accord. “Still looking?”

You force your head back to its upright position, mindful of the threat in his tone. His fingers work faster at your obedience, curling insistently against the gummy spot inside your walls that makes you see stars, makes you a little out of your mind with need. It’s that out-of-mind dizziness in your head that causes your little slip-up:

“Fuck, please, more- more, Daddy.”

Jean’s fingers still; it’s not until you’re halfway into a whine of disappointment that you realize what you’ve said. Your face burns; you meet his eyes in the mirror, yours shot wide and embarrassed. You trip over your words, trying to explain yourself. That definitely hadn’t been mentioned in your earlier conversation.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that, I just–”

“Just what? Already so fucked out you can’t think straight?” Jean curls his fingers pointedly against your walls, punching a groan from your chest.

“Yeah,” you sigh, head growing cloudy again.

“Say it again.” That definitely isn’t what you expect to hear him mutter against your neck. Jean works a third finger into your cunt with some difficulty, stretching you to your limits. “Fucking say it, or you’re not cumming.”

“Oh my God, D-Daddy,” your cries are pathetic, punctuated by whimpers. The bubble in your stomach is about to pop, the tension growing unbearable. You’re almost there, grinding into his hand pitifully and babbling, when Jean takes one of his hands to grab your throat roughly. He holds you captive, staring at your own stretched cunt on display for you in the mirror.

“Good, good girl,” he says, “now watch Daddy make you cum.”

The band inside you snaps viciously; your back arches away from him, and you squirt, gushing all over your bed sheets, inhuman sounds tearing from your throat where you struggle under his hand. Jean’s working you through the whole thing, still steadily pumping his fingers and whispering dirty little nothings into your ear. It finally begins to quiet, overstimulation washing over you. You push urgently at his wrist, mumbling something or other about “too much, too much”.

Jean mercifully obliges, pulling his hand from you with a shameful sucking sound, giving your pussy another light slap.

“Such a good girl for me, yeah? How you feelin’?”

“Good, so good,” you slur, “I’ve never– never…”

“Never squirted?” Jean’s eyebrows shoot up at your answering nod before a smug expression settles over his face. “Such a fun little toy, aren’t you? Just wait, you’ll get used to it soon enough.”

Your cunt clenches around nothing; so he can make you do that? Again? Jean’s slid out from behind you and is repositioning your limp body, dragging you down the bed by your ankles to line you up with his cock. He bends your knees up, pressing them close to your head. Jesus, he’s going to kill you at this rate.

“Want me to fuck you?”

“Please,” you hate the begging lilt to your voice, but you’re beyond fighting it. You gave up the reins a long time ago when you knelt for him, let him call you a good girl, let him fuck your throat.

“I’ve got you, pretty girl, Daddy’s gotcha,” Jean starts bullying his way into your pussy, still tight and pulsing from your orgasm. “Shit, got a tight little cunt, don’t you? Feels so good– fuck.”

You’re simpering under him, barely able to process the stretch of his cock in you. He’s well-endowed and you’re overwhelmed, a dizzying combination for your fucked-out brain to handle. Just when you think he might be in your throat he’s so deep in you, his hips press to the back of your thighs, both of you letting out a long groan at the feeling.

“So pretty,” Jean muses, not moving yet, just placing a thumb on your clit and absentmindedly playing with it, “such a beautiful pussy.”

You whine, frustrated. He glares at you, landing a harsh smack to your inner thigh.

“I’m not going to warn you again.”

“Please fuck me, oh God, please,” you pant, past the point of humility. Jean licks his lips, presses his palms deep into the backs of your knees, practically folding you in half. He gives you what you ask for.

You’re jolted back and forth on the mattress, mouth hung open in a silent scream as he splits you open on him, forces every inch deep into you. His tip’s kissing your cervix, pain blooming in your abdomen, but you don’t even care, so lost in the rhythm of his hips.

“Jean, I– oh my God,” you try to tell him how good he feels, but all you get is a firm hand around your throat.

“Who’s fucking this pretty cunt up, hm? Fucking you good and deep? Who is it?”

“Daddy,” you choke out, breathless, “Daddy’s.”

“There you go,” Jean’s focused on where you’re connected, eyes never leaving the frothy white ring forming around the base of his cock. You’re crying again, vaguely aware of the streams of tears running down your temples, into your hairline, but fuck, he just feels so good your brain can’t even process it. Jean takes notice, wipes one of your tears and licks it off of his thumb. “Cute fucking crybaby, all happy and cockdrunk, aren’t you?”

You whimper some semblance of an agreement, feeling the band of tension in you already getting stretched to a breaking point. He’s at an angle that allows him to hammer into the most delicious spot inside of you, rubbing against it with each thrust.

“Gonna cum soon, I– I’m gonna cum soon,” you manage, locking his gaze.

“Let me feel it, go on, do it for me,” Jean pants, squeezing your neck tighter. The lack of air goes to your head; the room spins until all you can focus on is him pounding into you. You cum violently, throbbing around his cock, thrashing against his strong arms. Jean fucks you through it, never losing his pace. “Good fucking girl, just like that.”

You’re practically wheezing as your senses return to you, clawing at Jean’s arm on your throat. He lets up on your neck, smiling down at you. “Feel good?”

“Mhm,” you hum, blissed out and half-asleep until Jean flips you, forcing you to prop up on your hands and knees. “Wait, Jean–”

“Wait?” Jean scoffs, sliding back into you. You let out a little cry, and he smacks your ass sharply. “This is what you asked for, right? Said I was being too nice to you.”

“I didn’t– oh my god…” your eyes roll back into your head, a well-placed thrust cutting your words off. “It’s so…it’s so much, Jean.”

Jean lands three more sharp slaps to your ass, already thrusting into you at a brutal pace. “What was that?”

“T-too much, Daddy,” you collapse, face shoved into the bed to mask the pitiful cries leaving your mouth. It is too much; if you tuck your chin to your chest, you can see a little bulge in your tummy where he’s fucking into you, another orgasm already building in the pit of your stomach. You feel like you might pass out if he makes you cum again, but he’s ruthless.

“Too much?” Jean coos, fisting your hair to turn your face. He’s glaring down at you. “You were practically begging me for it, and my pretty girl gets what she wants, right? Said you wanted it rough, so you’re going to fucking take it.”

You nod miserably, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. Jean hisses when you clamp down around him. “Squeezing me so goddamn tight, this pussy.”

You feel a hand start thrumming insistently against your clit and nearly shriek; your pussy’s so swollen, so sensitive already. You claw at the bedsheets, feeling something warm and wet swelling inside of you.

“Daddy, I– fuck, it’s, it’s–”

“Gonna make you squirt again,” it’s a promise from behind your ear, “you’re gonna squirt on my cock and Daddy’ll cum for you, okay?”

“I can’t, I–” you’re wailing, words cut off by your own moans. Jean loves it, you can feel his thrusts growing more urgent against your hips, so deep in you you could choke.

“You can,” he corrects you, hand moving faster, “want Daddy to cum in you?”

“Yes, please, p-please,” You cry, letting him use you as he wishes.

“I’ll give it to you, gotta cum first, you can do that, can’t you? Taking me so well, pretty girl, just need you to cum one more time for me.”

“Uh-huh,” the edges of your vision are starting to close in. He’s ruthless, hips slamming into yours hard enough to bruise, cock stretching you out so nicely, you can’t hold it, but you know, somewhere deep in this primal part of your brain, you need to be good, need to ask him. “Need to cum, Daddy, please– please let me, I–”

“Go ahead,” Jean shushes you, hips moving impossibly faster, “be a good girl, let me feel it.”

That tips you over the edge and Jean makes good on his promise; your cum is dripping out of you, spraying onto his thighs and ruining your sheets. You’re thrashing your head back and forth and sobbing through your orgasm, pinned and powerless under him. Jean swears at the vice-like grip you have on him; it doesn’t take him long to follow suit, pressing himself as deep as he can go, cumming in you. He bends over you as he does, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to him, kissing you hard in a mess of tongue and teeth. You feel it warming your stomach, moaning appreciatively until you both collapse in a sweaty mess of limbs, gasping for breath and clutching onto one another.

Jean allows himself a few moments to catch his breath, and then he’s pulling out of you, leaving you empty and whimpering. He shushes you, holding you close to his chest and letting you work through the intense session in his arms. You’ve never been so fucked out, nuzzling into his chest and simply letting him hold you, letting the aftershocks wrack through your sore body. After a few minutes you’re coming to; the haze begins to lift, and you peek up at him, unsure of where to start after…that.

“You okay?”

You turn the words over in your mouth before you can get them out, still feeling a bit like you’re floating. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. That was…wow.”

Jean, the man that just held you down and forced what were probably life-threatening orgasms out of you, blushes. “Yeah, it was really something.”

“Yeah, it was,” you agree, giggling despite yourself. Your mind is still a little cloudy, a little soft after everything. “But it was good. So good.”

“Yeah?” Jean grins, hoisting you up into his lap so you can both sit up, still cradling you to his chest. “Not too gentle, was I?”

Your face grows hot, you want to hide it behind your hands. “No, not too gentle.”

“You were right earlier,” he admits, “I was definitely holding out on you just because the way I like to…I mean, I don’t think I need to get too into it, you were there. It can be a lot. Didn’t want to push you too far.”

You hum contentedly, playing with the little gold chain he always wears. “I understand that now, but I’m a big girl. I can handle whatever you want to give me, promise.”

“Don’t say that,” Jean groans, “too tired for round two.”

Your hand falls into the mess between your thighs, and you wince. “Maybe after a shower?”

“Greedy,” Jean tuts, scooping you up with him to make the journey over to your bathroom, “my greedy, pretty girl.”

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oglobalmart · 6 months

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illyrianbitch · 24 days

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A Helping Hand

Pairing: Reader x Bat Boys

Summary: Even most powerful males in Prythian need relationship advice from their best friend.

Warnings: males bein males about females (but theyre well meaning), brief mentions of sexual encounters, crack & friendship fluff!!

Word Count: 3.3k

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

There was one thing about Cassian that you’d come to know over the centuries you’d been friends: the male could talk.

He was on a new tangent now, describing the details of a strange dream he’d had a few days prior, casually laying across the couch with his feet propped up on the arm rests. How his wings weren’t uncomfortable being smushed underneath him and the couch cushions, you weren’t sure, but you weren’t about to ask and risk another hour long explanation of how nothing phases him because he's “just that male.”

“And the princess next to him looked exactly like Az-”

You let out a groan, pushing yourself to sit upright from your current slouched position, staring at Cassian with a confused expression. “Cass,” you said, “What the hell are you talking about?”

He stopped mid sentence, turning to look at you with an open mouth and a blank stare. “My dream. Were you not listening?”

You gave him a look. “No.”

He frowned. “Well, that's rude. I listen to all of your dreams.”

“No, you don’t.”

He stilled for a moment, holding your stare, and then a giant grin broke out on his face. “Ah, you got me. I don’t.”

You let out a small snort before shaking your head and taking another deep breath. “Can we get back to why you needed to talk to me in the first place?”

Cassian’s face lit up in acknowledgement, and then he was readjusting himself to a proper sitting position, leaning forward with his hands on his knees. “Right, okay. I need your expertise on matters of the heart."

You narrowed your eyes at him in suspicion. “Okay…”

"Alright, so you know that female I’ve been with?"

You raised your eyebrows. “You have to be more specific than that.”

He stilled for a moment, pursing his lips in thought. Then he grinned, “The one who I said tasted like honey?”

You grimaced at his description. But Cass didn’t notice as he continued, “She’s super pretty. Real nice too, she gave you those little treats, remember?”

You thought back to the previous weeks, faintly remembering running into a female in the kitchen. You were still hungover from the night prior, so you didn’t remember much about the small conversation you’d held with her, but you did remember those treats— and the way she stared at Cassian longingly.

“I remember,” you finally said. “What about her?”

“I like her. I think she’s really cool. So, I want to do something to impress her, maybe ask her out for real.”

You smiled at him, a small, gentle, upside down smile that formed a small pout as you said, “Aw, Cass, you softie.”

The male in front of you grinned again, offering you a small shrug. “What can I say, I’m pussy-whipped.”

Your smile fell and you rolled your eyes. Well, that moment was nice while it lasted. You took a deep breath before leaning forward more, matching Cassian’s posture.

"She really liked you, so I don’t think you can go wrong. Just do what feels right.”

Cassian’s grin grew as he nodded his head in contemplation. "Alright,” he said, “Hear me out. I'm thinking of making a grand gesture outside her apartment, something to really show her how I feel."

You nodded, intrigued. "Okay, go on."

"And get this," He leaned in closer, a childlike glee in his voice as he continued, "I'll do it butt-ass naked, with a ribbon tied around my—"

Your hand shot up in front of you, a single finger pointed to cut him off mid-sentence. A deep sigh escaped you as you brought the hand to your face and pinched the bridge of your nose.

"So, I stand corrected,” you said with a disappointed nod. “You can go wrong."

Cassian's expression faltered, confusion evident in his features as he frowned. "What? You just told me—"

"Yeah, that was before you said that terrible idea," you interrupted, shaking your head in disbelief. "Don't do that. Do anything but that."

He sat up straighter, his lips slightly upturned now, a glint in his eyes. "Anything?"

You paused, remembering your earlier encouragement. Then you let out a deep sound of frustration. "Dude, just get her some flowers."

"But that's so boring,” he whined, “Like, Rhys boring. I gotta go big or go home, you know?"

You let out a groan at the ceiling, letting yourself fall back into the couch with an exasperated flare of your hands. "At this rate, please go home. I'm begging you."

But then, just as Cassian was about to let himself fall back into the couch, a mischievous grin spread across his face. "I've got an idea,” he said, quickly jumping off the couch.

He stopped midway, turning around to walk over to you in a few quick strides. He leaned down, managing to plant a quick kiss on your cheek before running away again.

“Thanks, Y/n. Love you!”

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

It was a quiet morning in the townhouse, gentle rays of sun shining through the opened kitchen window. You rubbed your tired eyes as you looked outside, waiting for the remnants of your sleep to disappear with the new day. Your hands held onto the small apple in your grasp, running your fingers along the fruit as you stared outside. With a small hum of contentment, you turned around to head back to your room.

You bumped into a large mass as you turned around, a dark figure shrouded in shadows as it stood still before you.

“Holy fuck!”

The apple fell from your hands as you jumped back, eyes blinking rapidly as Azriel’s presence registered before you, a small amused smile on his face. You let out a deep breath, hands flying to your heavily beating heart. You glared at him, your gaze quickly flickering down to your waist, where a small black mass floated around your apple— suspended in mid air as it was caught during its fall.

You quickly snatched the apple back, watching as the shadows happily trailed back to Azriel, their black forms settling behind his back and above his shoulders. You brought your glare back to Azriel’s face.

He did this to you often, quieting the sound of hit footsteps with his shadows to make his entrances stealthy and unnoticed. It never got old to him, how often you’d get caught off guard and send a glare his way, usually accompanied by a string of curses he’d never heard put together.

“Footsteps make noise for a reason, Az,” you grumbled, “So you don’t make your loved ones shit their pants.”

His eyebrows raised slightly, and you didn’t miss the movement of a lone tendril moving towards you— you lightly swatted it away, redirecting it like a small, curious puppy.

“I didn’t mean literally, you ass.”

Azriel only grinned in response, a small laugh leaving his lips. “It just never gets old.”

His hair was slightly tousled, messy across his forehead. He wore a simple black shirt and sweatpants, a casual, lazy look that he often adorned on quiet, slow, mornings like these— this version of Az, laid-back and comfortable, was one solely reserved for the townhouse, and only for you and your family.

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes at him. “What do you want?”

Az frowned slightly. “Good Morning to you, too, I guess.”

“It was a good morning, until you disrupted my peace. What do you want?”

Azriel’s face held a mischievous smile as he shrugged. “Why do you think I want something?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Because I know you. And you’re wearing your I need a favor face.”

He scowled at this, letting out a small sound of offense. “That's not a real thing.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No,” he protested again, “I don’t have faces. This is just my face.”

“Az,” you groaned. “Get to the point please. What do you want?”

He let out a sigh of defeat before he shifted on his feet. “Fine, I need your he-”

You pointed an excited finger in his face. “Aha,” you said loudly, “I knew you needed something!”

Yet again, he scowled at this, lightly knocking your finger out of his face with his palm. He gave you a flat look.

“Ow.”

“Can I speak now?”

You held your hands up in resignation, finally bringing the apple to your mouth as you took a small bite.

“Pierla won’t leave me alone.”

You frowned at him, brows furrowing slightly. “Who?”

Somehow, Azriel’s face fell even flatter, and he stared at you with an unammused look. “Y/n,” he said, almost scolding you with an exasperated tone.

“What?” you said. “I’m sorry I don’t keep track of every female you guys bed. My fault.”

He rolled his eyes, and you resisted the urge to either scoff in disbelief or mimic his movements. Sure, laid-back and comfortable Azriel was reserved for the townhouse and morning like this, but so was sassy Azriel and his impatience as well. You preferred the first— and only the second when it was directed at anyone but you.

“I slept with her like five days ago.”

“Okay,” you drawled, “And now she won’t leave you alone.”

He nodded, letting out a small sigh.

You stared at him, brows still furrowed, a frown now on your face that crinkled your nose. “Well that sucks.”

He stared at you again, the same flat and unamused look on his face. A flicker of irritation ran through his hazel eyes. “Y/n.”

You lifted your hands up in exasperation, the apple still held in one hand, adorned by the lone bite you’d been granted to take. “What?” you responded, “The hell am I supposed to do about that? That’s a pp.”

“A pp?”

You pursed your lips, preparing yourself to hold back a laugh. “A personal problem.”

He let out a sound of frustration. “Really?”

You let your mouth fall open in response. “Again, I reiterate, what am I supposed to do in this situation?”

“I don’t know!” His hands flew out in desperation as he shrugged, his shadows bouncing to the edges of his fingertips. “Help me, or something. Please.”

“Did you tell her you’re not interested?”

“Yes.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Did you tell her you’re not interested?”

“Vocally? No. Physically? Yes.”

You scrunched your face in confusion. “What does that even mean?”

Azriel brought a finger to the bridge of his nose. You rolled your eyes, not waiting for him to respond as you added, “Why are you acting frustrated right now? You put yourself in this position, Az.”

For what felt like the millionth time in the conversation, Az scowled. “I’m well aware of the position I’m currently placed in, Y/n.”

You brought the apple to your mouth, taking advantage of the moment of silence to actually indulge in the sole reason you’d been in the kitchen in the first place. Taking a few seconds to chew, you mulled over the options at hand.

“Next time you’re with her, just stare.”

Azriel blinked. “What.”

“You have this stare you do when you zone out, it's creepy. And unnerving. It makes me want to apologize for things I’ve never done.”

His eyebrows raised in amusement, a slight smirk forming on his lips. You narrowed your eyes before letting your face fall, as you frowned at him, arms falling lax at your sides. “You do it on purpose, don’t you?”

His smirk grew. “Never,” he replied, but the mischievous glint in his eyes gave him away. “But good idea, I’ll do that. Thanks, Y/n.”

As he turned his back and began walking out, you quickly sent a vulgar gesture to his back, angrily sticking up your middle finger in mockery.

“Saw that,” he sang over his shoulders. You casted your gaze down to a lone shadow that danced before you.

“Snitch,” you whispered down to it, watching as it began sliding to Azriel’s retreating form.

His voice rang out from the hallway, “Heard that, too.”

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Velaris was extra lively this morning, and it made your day even better.

You always found it so special that despite his duties as High Lord, Rhys never missed the tradition of getting breakfast with you every other Wednesday. You couldn’t quite remember when the tradition started, surely centuries ago when you both were younger, deciding that Wednesday’s needed a specific pick-me-up to get through the rest of the week. But the tradition formed, and it stayed for centuries. And, truly, you loved it. It always gave you a sense of comfort— a reminder that things may always change around you, but never when it came to the bond you shared with your boys, and with Rhysand especially.

But Rhys was quiet this morning, absentmindedly picking at the flakes of the croissant on his table.

You let out a small laugh. “Okay, spill. What the hell happened to you?”

Rhys slowly angled his head to look up at you, face distorted in defeat. “Females,” he muttered. “That’s what happened.”

You frowned, placing the croissant back down on the plate before you. You dusted your hands of crumbs. “Usually you say that word with a lot more excitement.”

He raised his eyebrows in response, and you watched as he rolled his eyes slightly. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

You lifted an eyebrow of your own. “What did you do?”

He brought his gaze back to you. “I’ve been fucking around with the twins.”

You frowned in confusion.

“...Nuala and Cerridwen?” You whispered, leaning closer to him, face scrunched.

You let your mind wander for a moment, thinking about the two twins that Rhysand had welcomed into your home. You loved the sisters dearly, and even you can admit they were beautiful— a type of beauty you didn’t really know how to describe, but beautiful nonetheless. But they were more shadows than they were form, not tangible enough to….have sex with, you assumed. You blinked.

“W-What?” Rhysand said, eyes widening slightly. “No. The twins from Rita’s last weekend.”

“Oh,” you breathed out with a relieved smile. And then you thought back to the two females Rhys had left with, a grin forming on your face.” Oh,” you said, amused. You leaned forward bumped his shoulders with a gentle fist. “Nice.”

“Not nice,” he grumbled, letting his back fall against the metal back of the chair. He let out an exasperated sigh. Your gaze trailed to the streets next to you, catching the sight of a few passerbys taking in the scene of their defeated High Lord. You cleared your throat, leaning forward in your chair to place your elbows on the table.

“Okay, I’m confused,” you said, “Why is this not a good thing? Seventeen year old Rhysand would be pissing in excitement right now.”

Rhys let out a small snicker at this, a small smirk on his face at the image. But then it quickly fell when he let out another grumble.

“Rhys, people are looking at you and making fun of you.”

He sprung up at this, eyes quickly searching his surroundings. He made eye contact with a few citizens, sprouting a large, charming grin on his face as he lifted a hand in greeting. The groups hesitantly gave a wave back, opting for small smiles before they went on their way.

Rhysand then looked at you once more, leaning forward to grab your hands in his.

“I’m an honest male. I’m allowed to make mistakes, right?”

It was becoming suspicious now, and you narrowed your eyes at him with pursed lips.

“What did you do?”

He gave you a small, guilty smile, perfect teeth on display.

“I bought them flowers, right? Just a sweet, classic, gesture to show them I was interested.”

You resisted the urge to laugh. It was, indeed, a sweet gesture, but Cassian’s words from earlier in the week rang in your mind, his joke about flowers being a boring move-- a boring Rhys move. You didn’t hide your amusement well enough, though, and Rhysand narrowed his eyes at you, tapping your hands lightly to draw your attention back.

“What?” he said.

You shook your head, giving him a small, inconspicuous smile. Then you offered him a shrug. “Nothing. Keep talking.”

He kept his eyes narrowed for a moment, but then he gave up, letting out another dramatic-Rhysand sigh. “But apparently, I gave each of the flowers to the wrong twin. And now they’re mad that I can’t tell them apart. I mean, they’re identical, Y/n. As amazing as I am, I’m no god.”

You let out a small snort, staring at him with an amused smile. “You can literally read minds.”

He opened his mouth. And then closed it.

“Well,” he said, clearing his throat, “That hadn’t occurred to me.”

You laughed, readjusting your hands so now it was yours that lay otop of his. You gave a gentle pat. “But that’s wrong. So you need to find a way to differentiate them, at least if you want to keep whatever it is you have going.”

“It’s fun,” he said, as a grin began to grow on his face. “One female is great, but sisters?” He let out a small whistle, “Whole other experience.”

You grimaced. “Rhysand,” you scolded, “Don’t be such a male. I was going to offer to help you. I take it back.”

“No, no,” he said, looking at you with wide eyes. He then gave you a pout, “Please.”

You held his stare for a moment, watched as he titled his head and gave you an innocent, charming, boyish smile.

“Fine,” you finally said, “But you owe me.”

Rhysand grinned, large and broad, as he sat back into his chair and picked up the small desert on his plate. “I always do,” he said with a gleam in his eye, bringing the croissant to his mouth.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

It took you a few days, four to be exact, before you were able to fulfill the promise you’d made to Rhysand. It was nighttime now as you finally returned to the townhouse for the day. From down the hall, you could see the dim faelight pouring out from Rhysand’s office, his door wide open.

Once you reached the doorway, you perched yourself in it, leaning against it as you cleared your throat.

“Leyra is slightly shorter and has two dimples. Kerala has shorter hair, one dimple, and a freckle on her chin.”

Rhysand looked up from his papers, sitting up right in his chair with a smile on his face. “Have I told you how amazing you are?”

You gave him a grin. “Add it to the list.”

Rhys laughed, tilting his head as he took in a relaxed breath. “Thank you.”

You gave him a small nod of your head as you began walking out. But before you took a step to leave, you popped your head back into the view of the doorway, wrapping your hand around the edge of the frame.

“Kerala also has a freckle on the inside of her right thigh. Kinda looks like a little heart.”

Rhysand’s face furrowed, and then his mouth fell open slightly. He narrowed his eyes.

“How do you know that?”

You grinned at him for the second time that night, giving the frame of the doorway a pat with your hands. Then you shrugged. “You never told me how you wanted me to help.”

Before Rhys could register your words, you were walking away, your figure disappearing from his open door.

When it finally hit, Rhys let out a small chuckle. Then, he shrugged to himself, returning to his work with an amused smile.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: @rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria

bat boys tag list 🫶🏻: @willowpains @maevecrom @vansaddy

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