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crystallinestars · 5 months

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How They React to Your Death

My HCs about how I think the Genshin boys would react to your death. I wanted to write Kaeya too, but ran out of steam.

This month has been terrible to me, so I was in the mood for angst. I don't know how well these turned out, but they were fun to think about.

Characters: Alhaitham, Childe, Heizou, Kaveh, Lyney, Neuvillette, Venti, Wanderer/Scaramouche, and Wriothesley

WARNING:

Reader has death descriptions. Some are more graphic than others, but I don't get into the nitty gritty details.

Spoilers for the backstories of all the mentioned boys.

MAJOR SPOILERS for Act V of the Fontaine Archon quest in Neuvillette's part.

Childe's part contains mention of suicidal thoughts.

Kaveh's and Venti's parts contain alcoholism

🎧 Alhaitham

Despite Alhaitham’s considerable wealth, no amount of money could cure your Eleazar sickness. His money could only buy treatment that prolonged your life a little bit, but ultimately your many years of battling the illness ended when he got news from the doctors that you had passed away in your sleep.

Alhaitham had accepted the news fairly quickly. He knew your death was inevitable, could see you slowly wasting away each time he visited you in the hospital over the past few months. So it was no surprise to him when the day finally came. The other patients and staff thought it strange how Alhaitham had no visible reaction to the news, but some chalked it up to shock when in truth the Scribe was simply accepting of that fact. There was no use denying something that already happened.

When Alhaitham came home that day, the house felt silent and empty. It reminded him of how the house felt when his grandmother passed away when he was younger. The sensations were similar. However, he did not cry over your death. Instead, he carried on his life as normal, or as close to it as he could now that you were no longer a part of what he considered ‘normal’.

At first glance, people thought that Haitham was unaffected by your death. Nothing about him changed. Not his mannerisms, his quality of work, or his expression. He remained the same reserved, stoic Scribe who had no time for trivial nonsense or extra work. He also never talked about you to others aside from confirming their question if you were truly gone. Alhaitham was like a well-oiled machine that worked efficiently like clockwork, keeping up the same even rhythm.

What they don’t see is how he comes home with the expectation of hearing your voice greet him upon entering, only to be faced with a defeating silence that makes his heart sink. They don’t know that Alhaitham wakes up throughout the night, expecting to find you snuggled up next to him in bed the way you used to before your sickness got worse, and you had to be hospitalized. However, you weren’t there no matter how many times he looked towards your side of the bed, and the Scribe could only sigh and try to fall back asleep while ignoring his aching heart.

No one sees how Alhaitham gets too lost in his books in the mornings and accidentally makes two cups of coffee instead of one due to force of habit. Or how, for once, he finds the silence of his house bothersome without your voice and the sounds of your activities resounding within the walls, and it’s enough to distract him from reading. He could be found reading at the House of Daena and Puspa Café more often from then on.

During his afternoon naps, Alhaitham sneaks back home and cradles your favorite blanket to mimic the sensation of holding your soft body in his arms the way he used to when you joined him for naps. He listens to recordings of you talking with him just so he can hear your voice again. He was glad he made the decision to record your voice at the hospital before you became too weak to speak. It gave him the chance to hear you one more time even if the sound of your voice made his chest hurt so much that he occasionally had to stop the recording to collect himself.

Nobody sees how Alhaitham finally picks up the fiction books you recommended him because they were your favorite. He prefers non-fiction, but these books are the last things he has left through which he could connect to your mind and way of thinking. He reads them all cover-to-cover even if he finds the story lacking or the writing not to his taste. He will learn to treasure each and every word because you once did.

What someone might see, as Kaveh did when he moved in with the Scribe, is a bookshelf filled with a few journals, a thick book with an emerald cover, and an assortment of fiction books that exist nowhere else in the house. Alhaitham never talks about these books unless asked, but their well-worn covers are a sign of frequent use, and sure enough, one can catch him reading a rare fiction book during one specific month each year.

🐋 Childe

You went missing after going out to collect some firewood in the woods near Childe’s home. A search party was arranged to find you with Childe in the lead, and he was also the first one to find your remains. Your body had been torn apart, blood and innards splattered across the snow, no doubt the work of some rifthounds. Usually, Childe would relish in such a gory sight, but not this time. Not when it’s your blood and flesh painted in the snow.

The sight leaves him numb. He’s numb when the search party comes to retrieve you, numb when he sees your parents weeping over your gruesome death, and numb when he takes on the duty of exterminating every rifthound he finds around Morepesok.

He wants to cry too, to grieve for you the way he needs, but refrains. He doesn’t want to appear weak and unreliable when his younger siblings mourn and cry over your death. You were like family to them, and your death broke their little hearts to pieces. Childe didn’t want to burden his siblings further by breaking down in front of them. He needed to remain a reliable older brother who could support them through this tough time, even when his own heart bled and he cried in his sleep when he dreamed about you.

Childe’s underlings noted that the Eleventh Harbinger became colder and more irritable after your passing. Any mention of your name would garner the speaker a harsh glare, and if Childe assumed what said person said about you was disrespectful, he didn’t hesitate to start a fight and beat the other person within an inch of their life. He became violent and unhinged, much like how he used to be when he returned from the Abyss as a fourteen-year-old boy.

Childe knew his behavior was irrational, and it pained him to see even his own family fear him due to his violent actions. He felt restless. Spending time at home among your belongings summoned feelings of longing and sadness, but even so, he couldn’t bear to throw anything away. He lived among the ghosts of your existence, however, it drove him mad with grief.

Childe needed an outlet for his emotions, so he took to fighting monsters and other strong opponents. He became even more reckless in battle. If before, the Harbinger sought out strong enemies to test his mettle against them and grow stronger as a result, now he sought out an opponent that would be worthy of taking his life.

Childe didn’t want to abandon his family. He loved them dearly and wanted to see his siblings grow up to be happy and successful people, but life without you felt so hollow. A part of him wanted to return to his family, but the sense of his family feeling incomplete never left him. You were just as much of a family to him as his siblings and parents were. He had plans to start his own family with you. But now… now, a part of him yearns to reunite with you in the afterlife. He promised he would stay by your side no matter what, and Ajax is not one to break his promises.

🔍 Heizou

Heizou was one of the first to hear about your stabbing that occurred in an Inazuman alleyway late that evening. You were rushed to a doctor to have your wound treated, but the robber who attacked you hit a vital area. Your blood loss was colossal, and it wasn’t long after arriving at the doctor’s that you succumbed to your injury.

To Heizou, the news brought on a sense of deja vu. He’s already lost a friend to crime in the past, and now he lost you to crime, too. The knowledge made him furious and heartbroken. He was angry at the robber for stabbing you just so he could steal some money that you didn’t want to part with, and he was angry at himself for failing to prevent this. After his friend passed away, Heizou swore to nip crime in the bud by discouraging criminals from committing crimes with the threat that he would find and capture them no matter what without fail. But what good did his resolve do if you still died because of an armed robber?

The heartache and guilt he felt ate away at him as the memory of your ashen face during your last few moments haunted him. He lost you. Never again would he get to spend time with you and make you laugh, kiss and hug you, or tell you he loved you.

His anger drove him to capture the murderer in record time, but hearing the criminal’s subsequent sentence for theft and murder didn’t comfort the detective. No amount of jail time would ever atone for the loss of your life.

After that day, Heizou lost his playful demeanor, becoming somber and reserved. He threw himself into his work, feeling pressured to capture as many criminals as he could in as little time as possible. However, his grief and exhaustion caused his mind to dull and make mistakes while investigating clues. It got to the point where Kujou Sara had to forcibly send him on vacation so he could take a break and properly process your death.

Despite his protests, Heizou knew he wasn’t much use in his current state, so he took this free time to visit your family and mourn together with them. He apologized for not doing a better job of protecting you, fully expecting your parents to lay blame on him for not protecting their child. To his surprise, your parents didn’t blame him at all. They even thanked him for catching the murderer and helping them to feel a little more at peace. Heizou’s interaction with your family helped him feel a tiny bit less guilty about your death.

The experience left him feeling a little less broken, so in the following days he sorted through your belongings in your shared home. He packed away some items to return to your parents, some things he put in storage, and others he gave away that he remembered you wanting to get rid of. A few of your items he kept for himself, one of which was a scarf you mentioned you bought because it was the same shade of green as his eyes which reminded you of him.

Heizou wore your scarf as a keepsake and good luck charm and would hardly be seen without it when he finally came back to work. What once served as your reminder of him, now served as his reminder of you, the person he loved with his whole being. But with the memories of you came the reminder of how you died. Though the memory was painful, it helped Heizou work up the will to keep pursuing his goal of eradicating crime. Even when the case was extremely tough with conflicting clues, your scarf would remind him to not give up, to not let another incident like yours happen again, and Heizou would persevere. He would continue to persevere no matter how long it took because he didn’t want innocent lives like yours to be snatched away so cruelly. Maybe one day, he will see you in the afterlife and proudly tell you all about how he achieved his dream. Until then, he will work hard to be worthy of the title of Inazuma’s best detective.

🍷 Kaveh

Kaveh had a lot of work to do. He was saddled with creating drafts for another large project while also trying to work on the commission for constructing a library in Aaru village for the children. Wanting to help alleviate his burden, you offered to take the finished drafts over to Aaru village yourself so he could focus on finishing up work for his other project. Kaveh tried to object, saying you really didn’t need to trouble yourself on his behalf, but you insisted, expressing your desire to help him finish his work sooner so the two of you could spend more time together again. After some deliberation, he let you go to the village by yourself, confident that you could make the trip since you accompanied him there several times before.

A few days later, Kaveh received news that you had died on your return trip from the desert. When he heard the cause of your death, his stomach roiled. You perished in quicksand just like his father. You died doing something for his sake, just like his father did.

Whatever future plans he was building together with you, whatever progress you made in helping him slowly heal from his trauma, it all came crashing down around him. Your death reopened old wounds Kaveh was only starting to heal from, as well as left new scars that tormented him every waking moment.

The first few weeks, Kaveh couldn’t stand to be in your shared home. It was full of memories of you, and each and every one of your belongings would stab at his heart like a blade. Moreover, the house felt so silent without you around. It reminded him of when his mother left for Fontaine, leaving him alone in a house too big for only him to live in. Now, he was reliving that moment all over again, but it was worse this time because, unlike his mother, he would never see you again.

Kaveh also couldn’t stand to look inside his sketchbooks. The pages were covered in various sketches of you, and looking at them only made the anguish and guilt grow in him tenfold. He blamed himself for your death, attributing it to being his fault just like he attributes his father’s death as his fault too. No matter what anyone says to console him, he will never stop believing it’s all his fault.

Fueled by guilt and self-loathing, Kaveh spent several weeks visiting Lambad’s tavern practically every day. One could even say he lived there since the architect seldom went home. He used what little money he had to buy alcohol, especially of the stronger kind. He wanted to numb the pain in his heart and to pretend that you weren’t really gone from this world. The alcohol helped to muddle his mind until his intoxicated brain conjured happy memories of you together, and Kaveh would mumble your name in a drunken haze. Other times it didn’t help, and Alhaitham, Cyno, or Tighnari could often find a drunk Kaveh quietly crying while slumped over a table and trying their best to drag him home while listening to his drunken babble of self-loathing and regret.

It will take a long time for Kaveh to feel okay again, and even then, he will never be the same optimistic and cheerful person he used to be. You were his muse, the one who made him feel like maybe he was deserving of love after all. But with you gone, he lost his creative spark. His designs no longer held the same extravagant and artistic flair they used to. Now, they’re more tame by comparison. With your passing, you took with you the little bit of joy he felt towards the world, and it seemed more bleak than it used to be when he was with you.

Kaveh refused to seek out love after your death. He’s lost too many people he held dear and has been left alone over and over again. The pain of being left behind and of feeling like he will only bring misfortune to those he cares about, made him seal off his heart. He doesn’t want to let people close to him like that again, and neither does he want to replace you. You were, and still are, very special to him.

Despite numerous years going by after your passing, Kaveh never forgot you, and he didn’t want your memory to be forgotten either. He built an art school and dedicated it to you in honor of being the one who inspired him so much in his creative endeavors. He hopes that your name will live on and continue to inspire future generations of artists long after he is gone from the world.

🎩 Lyney Having grown up in the House of the Hearth with Lyney and Lynette, the twins were practically like family to you. Though admittedly, Lyney and you developed romantic ties rather than familial ones the more you got to know each other. It was no surprise to anyone when the two of you became a couple, and Lynette even encouraged it.

Being a member of the Fatui, you were often sent out on dangerous missions to infiltrate enemy territory and report your findings back to Arlecchino. You were good at your job and had major successfully completed missions under your belt, but even the best slip up sometimes. After infiltrating enemy headquarters, you regularly reported your findings back to the House, however, one day the correspondence stopped. You went completely silent. The thought of you being caught immediately crossed Lyney’s mind, but he was hopeful that as an experienced agent, you would manage to find a way out somehow. You always have in the past, and after having worked together with you during joint missions, he saw first-hand how capable you were. To pass the time, he focused on polishing a magic trick he wanted to show you upon your return.

Days go by, and just as the magician is about to lose his patience and run off to try and find you, news about your body washing up on a riverbank reaches his ears. The heartbreak Lyney experiences upon hearing the news is indescribable. He felt lost, disoriented, and anguished. A part of him refused to believe the facts, but after witnessing the gruesome sight of your corpse, he had no choice but to face reality.

You were dead.

Lyney wondered at length about the cause of your death, and while his own guesses made his stomach knot, the autopsy report he read a few days later made him livid. Numerous torture and abuse marks were found on your body. It seemed that the enemy had captured and tortured you, hoping to force you to spill some of the Fatui’s secrets. Judging by the severity of the most recent wounds, you must have kept quiet because more brutal torture methods were used on you until the enemy figured out they wouldn’t get anything out of you, and disposed of you. Lyney knew how loyal you were to your family. You would never betray them even at the cost of your own life, but in that moment, he really wished you would have treasured your life more. Maybe then you could have survived. Maybe then he would have had the chance to hold you in his arms and tell you he missed you while you were gone. Maybe he would have had an opportunity to show off the magic trick he created specifically for your eyes only. But now, he’ll continue to miss you until the day death comes for him too. Lyney’s initial reaction upon hearing of your torture is overwhelming fury. Lynette had to hold him back from recklessly running off to take revenge against the enemy. It took a lot of reasoning on her part, but eventually, her brother calmed down.

Once his bout of anger passed, Lyney broke down. Lynette didn’t hide her own tears as she held her brother in her arms while he cried. The siblings both missed you dearly and mourned your loss, but Lyney took your death especially hard. He felt broken. One of his most precious people was taken from him in such a cruel manner, and the mere thought of how you must have spent your last few waking hours made him feel horrible.

He was anguished and angry, and the potent concoction of negative emotions weighed down on his heart and mind. Gone was his cheerful smile and outgoing attitude, replaced with a cold and somber frown. His calculative side took center stage. Though his initial burst of outrage passed, he wouldn’t give up on his desire for revenge until the act had been carried out. Aside from the twins, Arlecchino also refused to take your death lying down. You were her precious child, someone she put in a lot of love and effort to raise, and this transgression angered her as much as it angered Lyney. Together with Arlecchino, Lyney and Lynette infiltrate enemy headquarters and make every person a part of that organization pay. The magician ensures that the perpetrators experience the same pain you went through during your torture, and by the time they’re done, not a soul is left alive.

Even after exacting revenge, Lyney barely feels a smidge better. Though your captors have been neutralized and won’t hurt anyone the way they hurt you ever again, it doesn’t satisfy Lyney. At the end of the day, all he wants is to have you back in his life. He consoles himself with pieces of your clothing. Your clothes smelled like you, and Lyney hugged one of your items every night, breathing in your scent and soaking the material with his tears as he quietly cried. It takes a long time for Lyney to get himself together and act like himself again. Though he could easily put on a fake smile for his audience, his heart still aches inside. He misses you no matter how many months go by, and Lynette has her hands full comforting him when he breaks down at night and cries about how much he wants to see you. Lyney would have had an easier time accepting your death if you had passed away more peacefully, but knowing you were tortured to death will forever haunt him.

Once he feels more like himself, Lyney incorporates the magic trick he originally wanted to show you upon your return into his magic shows. He only performs it during special occasions so it would leave a great spectacle upon his audience. It was once made to awe you, but now it awes his audience, and a part of him feels some semblance of catharsis in knowing he could inspire others to feel the same joy you made him feel using just this trick. At times like these, Lyney feels as if a part of you was still there with him, enjoying the show he secretly dedicates in your honor.

⚖️ Neuvillette

You were visiting your friend Navia in Poisson, when the Primordial Sea flooded the area and caused a great catastrophe that took the lives of many of its residents. Neuvillette was aware you were in Poisson when the disaster struck, and he tried to get there as quickly as he could to check on you. He would have arrived there immediately were it not for the pressing matters he had to settle prior. He hoped the Traveler and Paimon would find you and keep you safe since they knew you were the Iudex’s beloved.

When he finally made it to Poisson, to his morbid surprise, he found neither you nor Navia, but some Fatui members helping to mitigate the damage. When he asked about your whereabouts, he was told that nobody had seen you. Immediately, his thoughts ventured to the worst scenario, but he refused to believe in his fears until he could get confirmation. He held out hope that you were alright, and went in pursuit of Navia and the Traveler, hoping that maybe you were with them, or they knew what happened to you.

It wasn’t until he was saving Navia from getting dissolved in the Primordial Sea water, did he catch a glimpse of your face. You were trying to protect Navia from certain death, along with Silver and Meluse. At the time he was too anxious about saving Navia to fully register the implication, but an unsettling thought sprang in his mind that maybe you really were— No, he didn’t want to accept it.

When Navia regained consciousness, Neuvillette asked her about your whereabouts. Her answer pierced through him like an ice-cold lance. With tears in her eyes, Navia recounted how you were helping Silver and Meluse rescue the residents of Poisson when the Primordial Sea flooded in, and how she saw your body dissolve in the water along with her loyal subordinates with her own eyes. The news settled in Neuvillette’s stomach like a boulder, causing it to sink and make him feel nauseous. Dread filled him, but he could only muster a quiet “I see…” and stare off into the distance. He felt crushing sadness, but he wasn’t given time to properly process his emotions and your death until he managed to make it out of the ruins.

That evening, Fontaine was hit by a torrential downpour that lasted several days. The rain fell in heavy sheets, flooding the streets and urging most of the citizens to seek shelter in their homes. Only the Chief Justice had the gall to stand outside and let the rain seep and soak through his clothes.

Neuvillette let the water droplets cascade down his face, imitating the tears he wished to shed as the realization that he would never see you again settled in. It was strange. Though he was on land, each waking moment he was pursued by a constant feeling of drowning. His chest felt heavy as if burdened by a great weight that made each breath he took feel like a herculean task.

Neuvillette felt a lot of emotions he couldn’t find the words for. He was frustrated and angry that innocent civilians had died in the flood because nothing was done to prevent it. So many people died. You died. If nothing else, he wanted to get justice for your and the others’ deaths.

However, Furina refused to provide answers to his questions despite his probing and insistence that now was not the time to keep secrets that could potentially help prevent an even greater catastrophe. That was when he turned to seeking aid from his companions, in the hopes that Fontaine could still be saved. Neuvillette lost and gained many things in those few days. The citizens of Fontaine were freed of their curse, and Neuvillette had obtained a position of complete authority, however, it all came at the cost of the lives of innocent civilians, Focalors’s life, Furina’s mental state, and… your life. Those were great prices to pay, and Neuvillette mourned each and every sacrifice.

Now that he had some time to himself to process his feelings, Neuvillette recognized that what he felt was grief and longing. He wanted to see you at least one more time, to feel you in his arms again. To have you taken from him so suddenly was too painful. He never got to tell you one last ‘I love you’, and he could only hope that his words reach you wherever your consciousness might be now. Fontaine will see frequent rainfall in the coming months. It won’t be easy for Neuvillette to get over your death, and some part of him will always ache and yearn to see you again. But one thing he can do is strengthen his resolve to make Fontaine into a nation that both you and Focalors would be proud of. A nation where tragedies like these will never happen again.

🍃 Venti

Venti liked to climb up on high places like his statue in front of the Favonius church, the rooftop of the Cat’s Tail, or the great tree at Windrise. Today, you found him high up in the tree, absentmindedly strumming a new tune on his lyre. Wanting to surprise the bard, you tried your best to climb the tree as quietly as you could, but right as you were about to pop up and surprise him, the branch you were on snapped, and with a heart-stopping shriek, you plummeted down to the ground.

Your scream alerted Venti. He felt your presence before you even started climbing the tree, but he failed to foresee the danger until it was too late. He didn’t react fast enough to summon a gust of wind to safely lower you down. The sickening crunch of your skull hitting the ground made his stomach roil, and for a brief moment he felt as if the blood in his veins turned to ice. He felt frozen in place.

Snapping out of his momentary stupor, Venti rushed to your side to check on you, but the enormous pool of blood blooming around your lifeless body made him throw up.

Not again. He lost someone he loved once more. The painful emotions of losing you triggered a cascade of memories of seeing the broken body of that one boy he called a friend thousands of years ago. The same boy whose face he now wore as a way of honoring his memory and giving him an opportunity to live out his dreams of freedom through Venti.

Venti felt that same feeling of heavy emptiness once again as he cradled your lifeless body in his arms, your blood smearing the white sleeves of his shirt. One of the bard’s hands cradled your still-warm cheek, and he wept. To have you taken away so easily through such a small accident… it was too much.

Venti didn’t attend your funeral. He couldn’t bear to. However, he forced himself to watch from a distance as your loved ones gathered around your grave. He fully empathized with their grief.

In the following days, one could often find Venti at a tavern. He started with Angel’s Share, but after consecutive days of heavy drinking and drunken ramblings about how remorseful he felt and how you deserved better, Diluc put a stop to Venti’s visits. The Anemo Archon wasn’t getting any better from drinking himself into a stupor until he could barely hold himself upright. It was heartbreaking to see.

Even after being banned from the Angel’s Share, Venti would visit other taverns in the city and rinse and repeat. He so badly wanted to numb the pain in his heart and forget the awful memory of your lifeless body. Only after several bans did Venti finally stop coming to the city altogether. He disappeared for a while, and nobody was able to find him. Only after many weeks did the bard suddenly pop up in the town square with his lyre in hand.

During his absence, Venti wrote a few songs as a way to cope with his grief, and after a while, finally felt well enough to play them. As a bard, he was well-known in Mondstadt for playing cheerful and beautiful tunes, but this time his melodies were melancholic, even sad. They listened to him sing about a love he can no longer say ‘I love you’ to anymore, someone he can no longer forge new memories with and can only carry on in his heart as a memory. The music he played captured the attention of every member of the audience and touched their hearts so deeply that they, too, could feel the sorrow the bard was trying to convey through his melodies. His pain became their pain, too. The heartache was so profound, so raw and crippling, that many people couldn’t hold back from crying.

Venti wasn’t playing the songs to earn money or share his sadness with others. He was playing them for you. He hoped that his feelings would reach you wherever you were and that your memory wouldn’t fade away even if he remained the last person alive who knew of your existence. His songs will keep your memory alive in the hearts of the Mondstadt citizens, never to be forgotten.

☂️ Wanderer

You have been fighting chronic sickness for months, but despite the treatments, each week you seemed to get worse and worse. Neither the doctors of Sumeru nor even Nahida herself could figure out a cure for your condition. You were bedridden with barely any strength to move. Wanderer took responsibility for nursing you back to health by helping you get to places you needed, cooking all your meals and feeding you, as well as getting your medicine and administering it.

Despite his efforts, you could tell you wouldn’t last long. While you still had the strength to talk, you apologized to him for being forced to part from him.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed, with a frown pulling at his lips. “Rather than talk about such nonsense, use that energy to get better instead.”

He didn’t want to face the facts, to accept the reality that you could disappear from his life. But then came a day where you no longer opened your eyes when he called your name, nor stirred when he tried to shake you awake. Your body was cold and stiff and so unlike what he was used to seeing you as. The life you possessed was gone in all senses of the word.

Something in Wanderer snapped that day. Falling to his knees, he let out a guttural scream that tore at his vocal cords. He unleashed a wail that carried all the anguish and misery he’d been keeping bottled up inside for hundreds of years. He’s lost so many people he cared for in the past. Each time he met someone he grew attached to, fate would always tear them away from him, and you were no exception.

He cried bitter tears in the privacy of your shared home, cursing Fate for doing this to him over and over again. He was angry and heartbroken. Though he lacked a real heart, the sensation in his chest felt like something inside him broke into a million tiny fragments. As if sharp needles pierced through his non-existent heart and caused him to scream until he lost his voice.

He wanted revenge, but how can one get vengeance against Fate itself?

You were gone, so cruelly torn away from his side despite his best efforts to keep you alive. You were the little ray of light that never gave up on him no matter how cold he was towards you or how much he pushed you away, and helped him heal little by little. You accepted him in his entirety and wormed your way into his non-existent heart, so how dare Fate mock him like this? Wanderer truly felt as if Fate was purposely torturing him by taking away all those whom he held dear.

Helpless and anguished, Wanderer reverted to the days when he used to be Scaramouche, the sixth of the Fatui Harbingers who was infamous for his callousness and mercilessness. His roiling emotions spurred him to repeat these spiteful acts against anyone who got in his way. It was the only way he knew of how to vent these overwhelming emotions that made him feel like he was choking on his grief.

It took Nahida’s interference to calm him down and get through to him that you wouldn’t want him to be like this. The Wanderer you fell in love with wasn’t such a hateful person driven by negative emotions, and though he was loathe to admit it, the God of Wisdom was right.

Having quelled the initial burst of wounded anger, Wanderer would think more clearly about what he should do from now on. He could keep all your items, photographs, and letters, but they would never replace you, only help preserve some of the memories attached to them, which a puppet like him had no need for. He won’t forget even the smallest thing about you, not as long as he’s alive.

Wanderer becomes a regular visitor of your grave, taking care of it so your name won’t be erased from the gravestone by time too quickly. He would frequently bring your favorite foods and flowers and place them in front of your grave, before taking a seat next to it and staring off into the distance without saying a word. He did this mostly at night so he could stargaze, just like how you both used to when you were alive.

Even centuries later, when everyone who knew you took their memories of you to their graves, Wanderer will remain to watch over your final resting place, unwavering in his devotion.

🐺 Wriothesley

You accompanied Wriothesley on another one of his swims out in the open waters surrounding the Fortress. Since you weren’t a vision holder, you had to wear a diving suit to breathe, unlike your beloved Duke. You’ve had these private little swim dates a few times before, so your guard was down when you swam through some jagged areas of the Fortress’s scaffolding. The shoulder of your diving suit caught on a sharp edge of metal and tore a hole in it. The tear was fairly large, and you panicked when you felt water rush inside your suit. Wriothesley was quick to freeze the hole and pull you up to the surface to get the suit off of you, but by the time he did, it was too late. You had inhaled too much water and were unresponsive. Wriothesley tried to keep his anxiety at bay and utilized all the CPR knowledge he learned from Sigewinne to try and save your life. He breathed air into your lungs and did chest compressions with enough force to hear your ribs crack, but even after 30 agonizing minutes of trying, you wouldn’t wake up.

Wriothesley had no choice but to accept the fact you died. Wriothesley doesn’t cry for you. He’s no stranger to death. His exposure to it in his younger years made him all too aware of how easy it is to die, and that death came for all without exception. As a result, he was able to accept your death a little easier than most, but it doesn’t mean he made peace with it. The staff and inmates at the Fortress all said Wriothesley looked the same as usual even after your death. He kept up his laidback yet intimidating demeanor and busied himself with the variety of work someone in his position was required to take care of. Only Sigewinne could tell that Wriothesley was not alright despite all the strained smiles he gave everyone. The bags under his eyes grew more prominent by the day, a clear indicator he wasn’t sleeping well. She saw how he threw himself into his work, barely taking any time to rest properly, as if wanting to keep his mind busy from the horrible memory of seeing your corpse. Though he tried to mask it, in truth, your death affected Wriothesley deeply. He had frequent nightmares about watching you drown and being unable to save you, and they would keep him up at night. He usually awoke in a cold sweat, his heart pounding from intense panic and dread until his mind cleared, only to be replaced with a stone-cold reality that made the feelings of guilt come rushing back. Out of habit, he turns to your side of the bed to seek comfort in your presence but seeing it cold and empty served as yet another harsh reminder that you were gone. Wriothesley can’t sleep after his nightmares, so he opts to work out or fuss over his gauntlets to distract himself from his feelings. It takes all his self-control to keep a lid on his emotions and not become the angry, irritable mess he knows he will be if he’s not careful.

When he makes tea, Wriothesley accidentally makes two cups out of habit. One for you and one for him. Even weeks after your passing, it was still a difficult habit to break. For the first while, Wriothesley would even stop drinking your favorite tea blend because it reminded him of you. Rather than enjoy the flavor, all he tastes is bile in his throat. The flavor of your favorite tea makes him nauseous because it makes him think about how you will never taste this again or have another tea date in his office.

There was one occasion when he tried to drink your tea shortly after your death. He thought maybe the flavor would remind him of the happy times he shared with you, but all it resulted in was a broken teacup from the force of his grip, and Sigewinne fussing over his cuts and burns. He didn’t drink your favorite blend for a long time after that, only being able to find enjoyment in it again many years later when the startlingly clear memory of your death didn’t hurt him as much. Wriothesley felt lonely without you. You were the friend and confidant he told his deepest and darkest secrets about his past, the comfort he sought after a difficult day, and the soothing presence that made him feel accepted for who he was without all the embellished titles. But after your passing, the Fortress of Meropide seemed cold and gloomy, as if devoid of the warmth it once had that made him call it home. It was as if your death snuffed out the little ray of warm sunshine he felt when spending time with you.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #heizou x reader #shikanoin heizou x reader #heizou shikanoin x reader #kaveh x reader #lyney x reader #neuvillette x reader #venti x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wriothesley x reader #For some reason Lyney's part is the longest

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fillinforlater · 3 months

Text

On her jeans (Part 1 of 3)

Male Reader x Kim Minji

Length: 3128 words

Tags: backstory, sex as payment, degradation, all things blowjob: face fuck, deep throat, gagging, chocking, throat bulging, rough face sex, training, passive hand job, master/daddy kink, desperate_trainee!Minji

TW: Minji is selling herself here kinda (oh no)

Credit: @sooyadelicacies for co-writing this crazy series with me. Mad lad!

-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part 3-

(A/N: Hey you! I know you're reading this. Get ready for your favorite girls to get defiled one-by-one. Goon or go (or something like that, sounded cooler in my head). For everyone else, have fun!)

"Huh? Minji? What are you doing here?"

Kazuha asks, surprised to see the still-trainee on this floor of the HYBE building, knocking on an unoccupied training room that she has nothing to do with usually.

"I-I came here to ask you about something,” the younger stutters. “I heard you were personally selected for LE SSERAFIM—and that there is some backer for your success. Even th-the group's scandal went away without a hitch.

“Who is helping you, who is he?"

"What are you talking about?" Kazuha responds, face in scrunches.

"I know that you know, Unnie," Minji says and catches the door before Kazuha can close it again. "I need answers, please. I-I've seen their plans, this is going to blow up, we'll be a failure, HYBE's loving stock.

"I can't fail this."

Kazuha looks at the determined young girl, her face loosening up a bit, turning from trying to defend her future spot at your side from a new rival to worrying for Minji. She curls her finger and Minji enters the otherwise empty training room.

"You have some dangerous knowledge," the Japanese woman then says. "Asking for this—I think you have no idea what you might get into."

"Doesn’t everyone say this about the industry?" Minji responds with wit and looks at Kazuha's sweaty body in the mirror. "Everyone always shares their doubts, from the moment you start. And now we are here, ready to debut. I know I have talent, but will it be enough?"

"You really want this, Minji?"

"Yes, Unnie, more than anything."

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen. Why do you—"

"I'll give you his number." Kazuha sighs deeply, but nonetheless, her words have Minji in a delighted dance. "I'll tell him that you are good, so be good, be honest to him. I'm doing you a favor here."

"Thank you so much, Unnie!"

"But be careful: he is greedy, he wants more than you can imagine, so be ready to give him everything. And also—"

Kazuha pinches Minji's chin, tilts it towards her piercing eyes and whispers in the most kind yet threatening voice:

"Never try to get between him and me."

"Oh my—your concept, these plans. They are fucking terrible. It's going to take a lot to salvage this, even you seem to know that, Minji." There is no need for you to hold back. If you think a plan is bad, you better tell someone before they fail. You’ve seen your fair share of bad plans, but not by HYBE and not to this extreme.

"I-I know. I tried to tell them, but the managers just shut me down.” Minji puts her arms back on her thighs. They were just dramatically cast into the air to get her point across, but the young girl saw your unimpressed gaze and quickly got professional again. “They are running us straight into a brick wall."

"I've seen many examples like this. A lot of companies think they can do no wrong, especially when a lot of time has passed since their latest failure."

You give Minji her tablet back and rest your chin on one hand, the other tapping the giant desk before you. You are deep in thought, at least Minji should believe that. Instead you are looking into her eyes, mariana trenches of passion, hopefulness, determination. Minji has a pretty face, leadership qualities, all the skills of a superstar but most importantly, she has some thick lips that will be perfect for cock sucking.

Okay, you are getting ahead of yourselves. The other big thing she has is the willingness to trade everything for her dream, for hope, maybe for fame too. She will give her dignity for glory—and you will make her do it right fucking now.

"This is a difficult case," you say slowly, watching her expression shift a bit, not yet gloomy but getting there. "Luckily, I and HYBE still have the time and resources to make your debut a success. People will talk about it for a long time. I can even guarantee you a music show win from the get go."

"Really? Oh my God, thank you so much, sir. You are way too kind." Minji jumps from her seat and takes a deep, formal bow. "I hope I can lay all of this in your hand?"

"You sure can, Minji, but you know this comes with a price, a hefty one at that. This cannot be solved with two phone calls and some convincing. Hell, I barely have any time." You stand up from your chair and look at the young woman, upper body still tilted but her huge eyes fixed on you, now you’re in front of her. You still dwarf her and she only now knows that she is completely outmatched and will pay up.

"I-I will give you everything, as soon as I can," she stutters. "I only need some time and, and—"

"But I need it now, Minji. Right fucking now.

"Get on your knees."

"Sir?" Minji asks, shocked. "On my knees? Do-do you want me to beg?"

You snort. “I thought you were smarter. What did Zuha tell you exactly?”

“H-how did you know—?”

“Minji, what you're asking for requires a complete 180. Your entire concept will have to be changed. From what I’ve heard, you need some new songs too. I have someone in mind who can spearhead your group but she's a wildcard, batshit insane really, but the right kind of crazy needed for something like this. But all of this will take a lot of fucking effort, time and money. And I need you to prove your worth, now."

Push down on Minji's shoulders until she winces and sinks to the floor. Black tiles, hard, cold and somewhat reflective. You know that for a moment all of them hesitate when seeing the rough outline of their head mirrored back to them. Are they really going to do it? Is this what they have to sell? Is it worth it?

Those that stayed are now superstars and because Minji somehow knew about it and had the guts to look for you, there is not a single doubt in you that she will devote herself to you.

"I can make your dreams come true," you proclaim calmly, yet your words put Minji under unbearable pressure. "Fame, money, success are all guaranteed, out of question, beyond that everything is possible. When you just stay there, on your knees and open your pretty mouth—"

A zip and your semi-hard cock is released, to the absolute shock of Minji, whose mental image of her face is replaced by the first phallus she has ever seen before her eyes.

"—I'll fulfill your desires."

Minji looks up at you and gulps. She thought the auditions and training evaluations were the final tests respectively, but now her entire career comes down to this one huge cock right in front of her. She curses the producers, the managers, those idiots at Ador—their mistakes have to be redeemed by her sucking dick and lowering to the level of a desperate whore.

Minji has no option. Idols are born from hardship and this is just another step, she believes. So her lips part a little, and when she locks eyes with you, they part a lot more. With a satisfied groan, you shove your cock deep into her throat.

"From now on, you'll call me Master. Later will be Daddy, but not until you've proven worthy. Your next few weeks will be rough, new people, new songs, new choreos." The first tears form in Minji's gorgeous eyes as gags bounce through your office. "I don't care how tired or sweaty you are, when I call you, you come to me right after practice, no excuses. You will obey every fucking wish, especially because I have so much work with you."

You drag your balls over her chin, let your cock rest at the top of her mouth and open it wide. Minji is clumsy with her teeth and with the way she tries to dodge your thrust, be it intentionally or out of fear. This is of course vastly inferior compared to a blowjob from all those second and third gen stars you've made big after giving them your big cock.

The only redeeming, already great quality, are her lips. Natural, not a talent or skill. She'd be a lot better just not moving, not thinking, a fleshlight, but how should such a young woman know?

"I assume you're smart enough to understand all this," you tell her expectantly and pull out. Minji leans forward and coughs up her saliva on your floor. You grab her hair and pull it back, get ready to spit at her, but she has wit.

"Ye-yes, Master. Excuse my incompetence, I—you're so big."

"No crying? No regrets? Well, that's more impressive than your blowjob skills. How about you clean up your incompetence?"

You take a step back and pull her face down, down by the hair, onto the tiles where her spurts of saliva lay. Minji hisses out in pain, you know she stares down angrily, shocked at how rude you are to her. She grits her teeth—

"Yes, Master, sorry, Master."

—and begins to lick the floor, slowly and only with the tip of her small tongue.

You are mildly impressed that she adjusted to her situation rather quickly. It is the sign of a prodigy in bloom.

"I am curious, baby girl. I was informed you didn't really set out to become an idol. So why put yourself through all of this?" You muse and question her. Minji's eyes widened a little, finally shifting from their bristling anger. "Oh, I know everything about you, Kim Minji. It is my job to know and then some. So tell me: what is your ambition? What is your desire?"

"Who doesn't dream of being famous?" Minji says, determination in her eyes which she has pointed at you like sharp, pointy arrows. "I want to be a star, the idol that all my classmates, parents, grown-ups have never seen in me. I want to show them how wrong they were."

"Too bad that even after joining the great and successful HYBE, you are about to be their first blunder," you taunt her and slap her forehead with your cock. "Good thing you're ready to suck cock for some adjustments of their mistakes."

Minji puckers her lips and a bit carelessly gets your cock back onto them, spreading small licks on your cockhead. "This is nothing, I know hardship."

"Oh,

"You call this nothing?"

You tsk and slap her face with your cock.

"You know hardship? Do tell, Minji..." You grip her head and begin to plunge into her mouth. "Hardship? We haven't even started yet. I'm not even at full size, stupid girl!"

You see her eyes widening as tears begin to form with your rough treatment. Thinking back to Minji's words, you read her well. People doubted her—you could too. She wasn't so different from the others you've trained. All they needed was education to rely on you, devotion to you and love for you and only you.

"Make sure to keep your fucking teeth off of it," you growl while your fingers search for new ways to pull at her hair, to push her away and then slam her back down on your cock which is finally hardening at the arousal her fearful face brings. The inside of Minji's mouth grows wetter, sloppier, warmer, until suddenly—

The annoyance of her teeth returns and it stings. To start with blowjobs has both been a disaster for your pleasure but intense fuel to introduce Minji to the harsh reality that is you; you and the success that you bring. Everything she has ever wanted, you can bring her, and so she fights trough the tears and accepts that you press her flat on the floor and fuck down into her mouth like it's a pussy.

"Open wide, open wide," you repeatedly command, a hand on Minji's jaw to help her make this command come true. "You useless slut, don't waste your lips on such pathetic blowjobs. Fucking hell, when I'm done with you, you better deepthroat like a mid porn star.

"Fucking waste of my time, you stupid stupid girl. This is the standard HYBE is accepting now? Fuck, maybe we can't even blame the company for your group's future failure—it will all just be on you. If you don't fucking step it up, this is the last time you will ever contact me."

Gaze still intensely focused on her, you pull out your cell phone and unlock it. You don’t really use it for much, except for phone calls, but this alone makes this device insanely valuable. You however don’t need to make a phone call now. You only need to show Minji one thing: your contact list.

She can see you scrolling past the names of tons of people, all in the industry. Well known producers, managers, executives, staff members, but most importantly, all highlighted by a colorful array of yellow, orange, red and pink:

The full names of hundreds of female idols. Minji scans through the list, recognizing one Unnie after the other, from nugu second gen groups to absolute super stars.

You pull out of Minji's mouth, give her time to cough up all leftover spit and wipe her tears away. Ultimately, you help her up from the cold hard floor, the only thing still laying on the floor is her pride.

"Do you get it now?" you ask and look at her, eyebrows raised with the highest of expectations.

"Yes, Master."

"Then you know what you have to do."

"De-deepthroat like a p-porn star."

"Can you do that?"

Minji hesitates, something you cannot stand for the love of everything. You grab her hips and throw her on your desk, spin her until her head is hanging off of the table. With no further warning, because she does not deserve those anymore, you press your cock on her lips and fill more than her mouth. Minji's throat starts to visibly bulge from the massive width of your cock.

Of course she is gagging, kicking her feet but that isn't even a flight response. There is no need for you to pin her down. She wants to stay, wants to become a good slut, a stupid girl that can suck your entire cock. Sadly, her newfound eagerness isn't rewarded with success. She needs training and stretching and so you stretch Minji's throat with lazy thrust and train her nose to accept your balls on them.

"You're so silly, but finally, we have some effort, Minji," you growl and reach into the top of her shirt. "We can work from here."

You fondle her breasts, run your hands down her soft stomach.

"Good, I can definitely work with this. You remind me of—"

But you pause, not wanting to divulge any advantages for her to pick up on. She looks like an absolute fuck doll as her head continues hang off the table. Even upside down, it was pretty when stuffed with your cock, your balls now touching her lips with each plunge.

"Minji, it's not enough to deepthroat like a porn star. You'll learn to deepthroat like one of my perfect sluts, whores. Porn star is a start, but it will soon be an insult to you.”

She had no idea that her consideration as a future perfect whore meant you already took a liking to her. As of now, all she knew—no, all she could think of—was your cock and that she needed to keep her teeth off of it. It needed to fuck her throat if she wanted any chance at a great career.

And so Minji takes it, acts like a whore who willingly gets gag induced drool over her face, then fat, filled balls on her nose and accepts the greedy hands all over her midriff. Minji always thought that she needs this tight, perfect form for the approvement of the public—now it's you who decides if her body is acceptable and ripe for a fucking.

Your seal of approval is the frantic way you tear open her shirt, then her bra and start to knead her breasts, while her tongue movements become actually enjoyable. You thrust harder, making Minji's face pale as she struggles to get air. She looks gorgeous like that, so you slap her tummy and before the choking is too hard, you back off and pull your pants up.

"That's it for today," you say as Minji still gasps for air. "From now on, you'll be here everyday after practice."

Short silence, disbelief in her eyes. "H-huh—yes, Master."

"The door will be open. Walk in and lay down on the table, just like this. You will wait until I return or have time for you. It doesn't matter what happens, you will lay there until I am finished with you."

"Yes, Master."

"A lot will change." You rub sweat and spit off her temple with a gentle hand and look at her glassy eyes. "You might not get any sleep at all. Now you will learn true adversity.

"Okay, fuck it. You don't deserve this, but I don't care."

Pull your pants back down and lower your balls onto Minji's mouth. This time, there is no hesitation, and she opens her fuckable lips wide. Her tongue starts to twirl around your sac while you begin to jerk yourself off. When Minji finally starts to suck, you feel a satisfying conclusion to this messy meeting arriving. But—

"Why would I do it myself? Get your hand here!"

You find one of Minji's hands and start to spit on each finger. Like a waterfall, it runs down until you deem it lubricated enough. Then you put them around your manhood and begin to thrust. It's a lot colder than a pussy, but Minji seems to instinctively know how to tighten the gap, the grip, her hand-pussy suddenly becomes worth cumming in.

Take a final breath and climax, each pump sending long streaks of pearly white on Minji's body. You cover her in seed until one long line, from her navel to her throat, forms and you admire how carefully she worships your balls. Wipe your cockhead clean on her hand and make a mental note to have this soft palm be a useful masturbation aid for another time.

"Who would've thought that you're already in love with my balls?" You almost crack a smile through your stone cold facade. "A good sign that you're already a whore."

"M-Master, I..."

"Shut the fuck up.

"Tomorrow, after practice. No underwear, no questions, no one is allowed to know."

#kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #male reader insert #male reader smut #newjeans smut #newjeans minji smut #minji smut #kim minji smut

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sanjisprincesswifey · 6 months

Text

romance alphabet ⋆ trafalgar law

summary: what it's like to fall in love with the surgeon of death

a ⋆ affection; how affectionate is he? how does he show his affection?

at the start of the relationship, law almost never shows any affection toward you. he’s helplessly awkward when it comes to lovey-dovey stuff, but after a couple awkward encounters, he’ll gain some confidence and start providing you acts of service.

it’s honestly the little things with law; he’ll bring you a blanket and pillows to nap in his office; he always makes sure you eat, even going as far as to make you meals when you’re hungry; anything you desire, law will provide.

b ⋆ best quality; what's his best quality as a romantic partner and why?

law is an incredible listener. he is always paying attention to what you say no matter the time or place. he always remembers the smallest of details, which of most you didn’t even remember yourself. by knowing every detail about you, it’s his way of showing you how much he cares.

c ⋆ confession; would he confess his feelings first? if so, how would he confess?

lmao no. he’d rather roll over in his grave than tell you he likes you.

the only way you’d find out is through someone else (bepo).

d ⋆ dating; what is it like to date him? how is he as a romantic partner?

in the beginning, it feels as if your relationship is stagnant, nothing really changes from just being friends. until one late night when he asks if you want to see his coin collection or his comic books and it’s like his whole personality does a complete 180 on you, seemingly out of nowhere. suddenly you’re dating a complete nerd who is (un)secretly obsessed with you.

law’s definitely the type to remember all the little things you say, has a journal full of your favorite things, but rarely opts to be overly romantic. he would give you a present that reminds you of someone special to you and treat it as “no big deal.”

all in all, he’s a bit embarrassed to be romantic, but he’s definitely got the spirit.

e ⋆ emotions; how emotional is he with you? does he show his emotions right away or does it take time for him?

you’re lucky if you get a passive aggressive sigh from law for a very long time. he doesn’t start dropping his walls until a couple months to a year, again, if you’re lucky.

poor baby is so afraid to show you any real emotion because of all his unresolved trauma, so just be patient with him.

f ⋆ flirt; how good is he at flirting? does he flirt well or often?

oh my god, no; it’s the opposite in fact. he’s terrible, genuinely terrible.

he’s awkward, stuttery, sweaty, and kinda just stares at you when he can’t get any words out.

on the rare occasion he’s mediocre at it is when he’s drunk and no other time, you cannot convince me otherwise.

g ⋆ gifts; is he a gift giver? what kind of gifts does he enjoy giving you?

yes, but he’s not so much for the pageantry so they’ll be subtle; a new blanket on the bed for you, a framed photo of the two of you suddenly appearing on your nightstand, stuff like that.

h ⋆ hugs; does he hug you a lot? what are his hugs like?

he loves to hug you only when you're in the privacy of his room on the polar tang. he doesn't care much for the affection otherwise, that's what he tells you anyway. you later learn he's just embarrassed to be so romantic otherwise given his reputation.

since law towers over you, he practically throws his body weight into you when you hug. he wraps his arms around your waist, tightly clinging to you as his head droops into your shoulder. the majority of his body weight is now shoved into your shoulder like the big 26-year-old baby he is.

i ⋆ i love you; does he tell you that he loves you first?

again, i have to laugh, but no. maybe subtly, but never, ever directly and he will never say the actual words. he’ll be more ‘romantic’ or whatever his version of romantic is (being more attentive), and then the crew will catch on. law definitely talks about you way too much to the crew and they'll all realize that he loves you before you do.

j ⋆ jealousy; does he get jealous a lot? if so, for what specific reason?

oh, yes; probably one of the most jealous men in all of one piece, in my opinion.

law is deeply insecure, afraid of love, and has abandonment issues and if he feels even a twinge of jealousy it’s like his heart breaks on the sight.

however, it does take a little bit to get him jealous! he’s not threatened by normal interaction, but if someone was a bit too overly affectionate with you (read: luffy, sanji, or eustass), that’s enough to make him jealous. it’s the act of seeing someone be vulnerable with you the exact same way he is with you that drives him nuts.

k ⋆ kisses; what part of you is his favorite to kiss? how often does he enjoy kissing you?

his favorite is any place that’s intimate and vulnerable; being able to claim you as his because no one else gets to touch you where he does.

you can find law in the crux of your neck almost every night, it’s one of his favorite spots because he can practically breathe in your scent and lovingly kiss the area as much as he likes without getting tired.

after your relationship reaches the point where he’s no longer uncomfortable to show affection it’s like every second of the day with him. you wouldn’t think it by the look of him, but law adores kissing you even if it’s a quick kiss to your forehead in passing. it’s kind of his way of showing you love even when you aren't directly saying it and he gets super whiny when you don’t show him the same affection in return.

l ⋆ love language; what’s his love language?

acts of service. law thinks of it as an incognito way to show affection even when he’s around others. it’ll range from throwing a blanket on you when you “accidentally” fall asleep in his office to offering to aid you on specific tasks “just in case.”

m ⋆ memories; what memories of you two are the most precious to them? why do they treasure them?

it has to be the first night he said, ‘i love you.’ it’s after you had fallen asleep in his arms, your light snores echo around the room.

he has an elbow propped up against the pillow holding his head and the other arm draped around you. your bare skin is so warm against him, it was such a strange sensation compared to the cold air that usually envelopes him in his room.

your calm expression twitches slightly indicating that you had to be dreaming and law hopes it was about him.

his gray eyes were so soft; his facial muscles felt so foreign in such a gentle position, but he couldn’t help it when he was holding you so close to him. knowing that the person before him loved him so much.

that meant so much to him because it was the first time in 14 years that law had finally regained the love he had lost so long ago.

n ⋆ nicknames; what nicknames does he prefer to call you, if any at all?

law is such a ‘doll’ kind of guy. it just falls from his lips like butter and he’s so quick to start calling you that too.

o ⋆ on cloud nine; what is he like when he's in love? how different does he act when he's in love?

when law falls in love with you, it is probably the most confusing time in your relationship. it’s kinda like when the grinch’s heart grows three sizes but instead of accepting it, it scares the hell out of him. he’s extremely avoidant of you and won’t explain anything so you gotta corner him in his office.

he’ll get scared, possibly shed a tear or two and tell you just how terrified of love he is. you can’t really blame him, so you tell him you obviously love him too. he turns into such a clingy, obsessive guy after that. he loves having your attention; his walls really come down and he’ll show you all his nerdy collections like comic books and coins.

when law is finally ready to admit that he’s in love with you, he is the softest and most pure a man could be. he’s vulnerable and feels safe with you, so that means he’s extra protective.

p ⋆ pda; does he openly express pda? how affectionate is he in public?

unfortunately, law hates pda. in fact, law is very adamant on keep your relationship personal and private. due to his traumatic past, law chooses to keep you a secret so as to not put you in harm’s way.

though when you make the alliances that law does, he comes to realize that word will get out eventually. law attempts to threaten luffy to keep your relationship under wraps but, c’mon, it’s luffy.

q ⋆ quirks; what are some things you’ve learned about him since being in a relationship?

he’s very particular about everything; he always needs a solution to every problem. for instance, whenever you two have a disagreement, he’ll be unsatisfied until he has a direct solution for your issue and become frustrated if there isn’t one.

because of his particular-ness, when it’s his turn to plan date nights, they are often planned to a t. you will leave a certain time, the activity will take place at a certain time, etc., you think it’s completely adorable even when he’s frustrated when you’re a minute or two behind schedule.

r ⋆ romance; is he a romantic partner? is he cliché or creative?

contrary to popular belief, law can be quite romantic. he’s a ‘flowers just because kind of guy’ and is extremely creative in the gift-giving sentiment.

he opts for purchasing presents you’d actually enjoy, taking his time and putting energy into a photo album or scrapbook. the gestures from law are always well thought out; it’ll always be work he’s proud of.

s ⋆ smooch; what was your first kiss like? where did it happen and was it planned?

your first kiss is something law wishes you didn’t remember. he waited 26 years to kiss someone, did either of you really think he’d be any good at it?

it, of course, was a bit awkward. you never assume someone could mess up a kiss but somehow, he did.

you were in his office, chair placed closely next to his as you read over whatever book he was fixated on this week.

it was late, the both of you were sleep deprived beyond compare, but every time law glanced over at you reading the page he was, he swore his heart jumped out of his chest.

though the kiss itself was not planned, he spent at least 15 minutes mentally calculating if he should make his move.

when he finally mustered up the courage, he turned to you in an awkward position and just kinda stared between your eyes and your lips.

it doesn’t take long for you to notice your boyfriends gawking and before you can ask him if he’s okay he smushes his lips to yours.

of course, having no prior experience, he doesn’t really move his lips at all and just sits there for a couple of seconds until you pull away.

he’s confused, but he’s definitely got the spirit, so you give him some leeway and show him how it’s done.

the both of you laugh about that memory now, but he still feels embarrassed if he thinks about it for too long.

t ⋆ true love; does he believe you were destined to be together?

nope. he doesn’t believe in fate or astrology or anything of the sort but is definitely open to it if you do.

even if doesn’t believe in any spiritual destiny, he constantly finds himself thanking whoever may be up there that he is lucky enough to have you.

u ⋆ ultimatum; what is a dealbreaker in his relationship?

law needs loyalty. he needs to know that you are his and, more importantly, that he is yours. the hardest part about falling in love for him is that he is terrified that you’ll leave him and having your loyalty reassures him (most times anyway) that you’ll always be by his side.

v ⋆ value; how important is the relationship to him? what is it worth in comparison to other things in his life?

okay, don’t shoot the messenger, but at the start of your relationship law didn’t think that highly of it. due to his lack of emotional affection to or from anyone, he honestly saw no important significance for being in a relationship.

in classic law fashion, nothing really changed between you two until he realized how much your absence affected him. the romantic longing in his heart was such an unfamiliar feeling he mistook it for some kind of heart condition.

eventually law comes to realize that, maybe, someone who is as closed off and lonely as he could fall in love and then he is putty in your hands. the minute he knows he loves you, you become his number one priority. he tries to maintain some of his natural disposition, but he is so desperate to be loved by you that he does anything and everything for you.

w ⋆ wild card; a random relationship headcanon!

law is borderline obsessed with you. he’ll know things about you that you don’t even remember telling him. he’s kind of a freak if we’re being honest.

he steals clothes from your room because they smell like you, takes photos of you without your knowledge so that he can keep them for later, and bought your engagement ring the day he knew he loved you.

obviously, he has no intention of ever telling you any of this because he doesn’t need you to know just how desperate he is for you to love him.

law knows that you’re his and either he’s marrying you or he’s dying alone, no other option.

x ⋆ x-factor; what drew him to you?

law loves how different the two of you are. you aren’t opposites by any means, but the way that your emotional intelligence and situational awareness (especially when it comes to such a brooding man such as himself) differ so greatly from his that it entices something within him. he doesn’t consider you the opposite of him, but he views it as what he lacks, you offer.

he knew you had these qualities from the very beginning, that’s why he asked you to join his crew, but seeing how well they transfer over to your relationship made him swoon even more.

y ⋆ yearning; when does his find himself missing you?

though he never prefers to be put in situations that are rambunctious or crazy, law finds himself missing you most when he’s in them. something about having you there, holding his hand or talking to him makes the situation so much better.

z ⋆ zzz; what is his favorite sleeping position? is he the big spoon or the little spoon?

something about spooning always gives law so much comfort. he loves to cling to you, to have you pulled so tight to chest that you can feel his heartbeat through your back.

while the warmth and closeness being the big spoon provides him is extremely comforting, law does prefer to be the little spoon. when you’re as private and apathetic as law is, he’s practically begging to be held by you. since he rarely gets a good night’s sleep, being in your arms is the best melatonin substitute.

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! (✿◠‿◠)

#trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law headcanons #law x reader #one piece #one piece x reader

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feyascorner · 4 months

Text

Food is not something he's indulged in since he was turned.

He must've enjoyed it once, as every other undead being he's surrounded by. But when he lifts a wine glass to his lips or sips at a broth, all he can do is scrunch his nose, disgusted by the way it tastes. The only thing that satiates him now is blood. He's gotten used to it by now.

So why in the hells he'd thought he could make you soup to soothe your aching throat, he has no idea.

Surely, it can't be terribly difficult? Just a few vegetables, broth, and a pretty bowl to put it in. It would make you feel better if you didn't have to get up and cook for yourself, and he'd get to sit by your side, teasing the way you seem to sneeze every few minutes.

Unfortunately, he's finding that he was horribly wrong.

"You can't feed them this!" Gale exclaims with a groan. "It really is a simple recipe, surely you can make this much."

Astarion glares at him, then back down at the pot of soup sitting pathetically on the stove. He sees Gale testing it one more time with a spoon and shuddering, flinching at the taste. He would taste it himself if it weren't for the fact that it would taste terrible regardless of the culinary quality, but alas, all he can do is narrow his eyes at the deceiving concoction in the pot.

The wizard sets down his testing spoon and sighs. "Look, we can try again tomorrow. We should really feed them soon, anyway."

Astarion frowns. He's killed people and defeated dozens of monsters, and he's brought down by this? A bloody soup? All while getting scolded by Gale, of all people?

He hasn't even tried the soup, but he feels a bit sick.

"Oh, did you guys already cook?"

His ears perk at the sound of your voice, and you pace into the kitchen, wrapped in one of his many blankets. His chest swells at this, but hells if he'd ever show that on his face. "You should be resting, darling."

"I will. I'm just hungry," you sniffle, reaching for the pot of soup. And before Gale can stop you, you're already pouring yourself a serving, and you slowly lift the bowl to your lips, taking a long sip while the said wizard gawks.

Astarion's eyes never leave your expression as you bring the half-empty bowl down to the counter, swiping at the excess in your mouth. You seem in thought, raising a brow before turning to Gale. "Are you experimenting with recipes?"

"It's certainly not one of my makings!" he recoils, almost offended. "I'm afraid I have to give this honor to my friend, here."

Astarion rolls his eyes, readying himself for your criticism of his cooking. He knows you wouldn't be as inelegant as Gale when speaking your concerns about the damned soup, but he thinks it might have more of an impact on him anyway, simply because it's you.

Getting his feelings hurt over a bowl of soup would certainly be a new low for him.

You stare at him for a moment in a painful silence before lifting the rest of the bowl to down the rest. Even Astarion blinks this time, watching in utter disbelief as you drink the soup like the finest wine in Faerun.

And when you set the bowl down, you shrug. "It's good."

Gale's jaw drops, but all Astarion does is stare at you with wide eyes. You yawn, trudging back to your room without another word, his blanket trailing behind your heels. He only snaps out of his trance when he hears Gale sigh obnoxiously loud at his side.

"It's your lucky day. It seems the sickness has rendered her tastebuds malfunctioning."

Despite the embarrassing way, he feels the tips of his pointed ears flush, Astarion cracks a triumphant smile.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion #bg3 x reader #fluff #bg3

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honestsycrets · 10 months

Text

enfócate | tutor!miguel o'hara x reader

❛ pairing | tutor!miguel x student!reader, fake boyfriend!peter x reader

❛ type | explicit

❛ summary | jess is clear: miguel o'hara is a terrible boyfriend. he'll inevitably hurt you-- but peter has other ideas. or, you blow miguel in a library.

❛ tags | spanish tutor!miguel, bratty reader, a kiss with Peter, Miguel's jealousy, bjs, fake boyfriend!peter, slight obsessive qualities, fuck buddies, undefined relationships, fuck boy Miguel.

❛ reqs fulfilled | see here.

❛ sy's notes | the pov on this piece bothers me, it jumps between reader and Miguel. however, i did write two separate pieces for this request (a combined 25 pages vs my usual 11/12). so, i decided to meld them together to create this piece. anywho, if it bothers you, i understand! ❤️ I yoinked a lot of the Spanish from my Spanish learners textbook, hopefully, it's acceptable.

He knew he wanted you from the first day he saw you in the tea cafe.

Jess and he rarely visited the tea shop. It was settled on the edge of campus. Close to the social sciences and arts, but far from the work he did in the Genetics department. As a Ph.D. student, however, not all the work was done in the lab. Jess liked to see the different types of people that came to this tea cafe, where the chair cushions were fluffy emerald pillows and plants hovered overhead.

“Miguel? What's---”

You stood apart from the other students with their sloppy, half-cropped, or frumpy appearances, there was a particular care you took to dressing. It was the embroidered bow in your hair that drew his attention. When you left to fetch a refill of chai, he noticed the soft, frilled socks in tiny ankle boots. He just knew you would taste sweet, leering as he watched you at the drink bar. Jess glanced in your direction, the way you adorably bowed your head after the tea artist gave you your drink, and just knew. Jess looked over her shoulder.

“Not her.”

Jess’s voice was a drawn-out sigh of your name, punctuated by her fist beating the table. Miguel perked at the mention of your name. Oh, so she knew you. She was probably sick of his shit. Good, he was also sick of being used as a vibe check for the lesbians she wanted to pick up.

“Don’t you have enough side pieces?”

Miguel didn’t respond.

“She probably has a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. Look who she's with.”

That finally got a response.

“You don’t know that,” he kept his eyes straight ahead. You caught him staring, wiggling your little fingers in a hello as you sat at a table. "I want her."

You sat with an incredibly frumpy, annoying photography student who once took his picture for the lab website. Could he be… his attention wavered when you pulled out a book: Español para el siglo. His lips quivered into a wildly sardonic grin. Oh no, no no. It was too easy.

“You’ll ruin her. She’s too innocent.”

He leaned in.

“Are you going to help me or not?”

“Buenas tardes,”

Two chairs and a thin desk. The small study room was more of a glorified broom closet for its students. You were lucky that there was a large window that looked out over the student union, flowers blooming up its brick siding. Bits of lush dark green ivy poked into the window’s view from the library’s tall wall. As the sun set on campus, rich orange and pink settled over the sunset on that warm Friday afternoon. At least the sight was pretty for how overwhelmingly small the space was.

It wasn’t the space that bothered you. It was your tutor.

He was big-- big big. Not just a little big, but really big. The kind of big that was on bodybuilding competitions. It made his long, blue-grey muscle shirt and grey sweats look tiny, sucked to his well-pumped muscle. The room felt a lot smaller as you looked at him, his long brown hair whipped back over his neck. His eyebrows raised on his dark forehead, arms turning one over another, a bundle of muscle.

“Ah... you're him? The man from the tea shop.”

He pulled free his sunglasses and set them down. His warm chocolate eyes glanced from the edge of your now too-short skirt to the glint of a dagger necklace that beat between your breasts. He’s staring. Why is he staring-- you finger the dagger between your thumb and index fingers, soothing yourself with the manipulation.

“Miguel.” He warmed, pulling the seat out beside him. His voice was buttery and smooth, almost like rich caramel. The lilt in his voice lightened, inviting you to take a seat by him. You should. You thought. Sit down. “Siéntate."

You stared.

"I said sit down.”

That was a bad idea. You paused, slipping the bag down from under your shoulder and onto the beige tile by the door. Miguel watched every slight movement. That’s fine. It’s natural to do that. You tugged the bottom of your skirt and took a seat beside him. Miguel pushed the chair back in, pushing your chest to the edge of the desk space. Oh-- oh boy, he was strong. Of course, he was, he was built like a--

“Bueno. Now you're settled. How can I help you?”

Do that again.

“Me? Oh! I... Jess said you could help me need to pass a test,” you murmured. The four semesters of Spanish seemed relatively easy compared to being stuffed next to this Adonis in this tiny study room. Your legs settled over your skirt, hands working over one another to will down the pulse of your wily excitement. What was wrong with you? “To pass my language requirement.”

You should have been able to do that alone but-- let’s say you weren’t the most applied to the language in your childhood. A tutor was a great alternative to embarrassment and thousands of dollars in classes. If only he didn’t look like… this. His large hand left the pasty back of your chair.

“Hm,” he paused. “¿Puedes hablar español?”

“Sí,” you murmured. “My mami was-- well, I should have listened to her.”

Hm.

You want to know what Hm means. Your leg tremored on its own accord. He swept a leather bag by his side up and pulled out a thick folder, running across several tabs. Lab notes, diet plans, pruebas.

“It happens,” he notes, sliding a page free. “Let’s see how much you know, princesa.”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to know more, to hear the hum of Spanish bouncing off his lips. It was a world apart from your mother’s shrill screams on Saturday mornings to clean an already clean house. It held its own beauty and mystery when he spoke it. You took the page from him, setting it down on the bland tablespace by your phone, lighting up with a notification.

Jess When you meet Miguel, don’t do it.

"¿Princesa?" you asked.

"You dress like one. Don’t worry if you fail,” you plucked out a pink mechanical pencil, complete with little animated characters tightened around the wrapping. You perked at his words, choking a small smile. “I expect you to.”

Why was he like this? You took another unfortunate look at him, his large forearm plastered over the desk, making the book he had to look like peanuts in comparison. God, he was hot-- you felt comparatively hideous, drooling over a man that was out of your league. Maybe he could be your piece of eye candy this year. Your phone buzzed along the table again. Miguel’s eyes shot to it, a frown pulling at his lips.

Jess Don’t fuck him. He can’t keep his dick to himself.

He reaches over, flipping your phone down with an overworked smile sundering his expression. It’s almost fake.

“Are you…” you turned your eyes to the questions on the page. “A student?”

“Grad student,” Miguel answered. So, older than you then. “I graduated with a BA in Spanish and a BS in Genetics.”

“Oh! A dual degree?” The man couldn’t be normal. He had to do both. “Did it… take a while?”

“No, it was accelerated.”

He was unreal. There was no way this man was ordinary. It was physically impossible for the man to be that hot and successful. You scribbled across the page, nipping the back of your pencil at particularly hard questions.

“So you just do this for… a living?” you asked him.

“I teach and train clients, yes.”

“Train?”

“Gym,” Miguel set his cheek on his fist.

“I do cardio with Jess. No strength training for me.” Jess-- who suggested Miguel to you. You had some shit to bitch at her about the next time you saw her. Namely, why she didn’t warn you about Miguel. He was a boon for chaos in your life.

“I’d waste your time. I’m all marshmallow,” you pat your soft belly. “All pan dulce and burros.”

He chuckled.

“You have a beautiful body.”

And that was that. You set the pencil down on a page half full of answers, glancing toward his full lips. They were quirked into an arrogant smirk. He knew the effect he had on women. He glanced to the page, then to you, his lips growing into a smile laden with arrogance.

“Your hips--” he glanced down, “My girls couldn’t pay to get them.”

He noticed. You supposed that the miniskirt wasn’t the best choice for meeting a new man.

“Do you talk to everyone like this?”

“No. Only the ones that look at me like you did."

Oh.

If it were a game of whom ate whom up first, you had to be honest-- it may have been you. You couldn’t shoot anything back at that, angling your head down at the page guiltily. A sigh fell from his chest. His large hand came to the back of your head, cupping the thick bow on the back of your head. His fingers ran across the silk, teasing it between his fingers.

“Calm down, you’re not the first one to do it. You won't be the last,” he turned your head to look at him, large fingers combing through the strands of your hair. He chased the panic in your wide eyes, doe eyes blown wide. Your heartbeat soared into your chest, choking you there, looking for an outlet from your shame.

“Breathe for me,” he leaned in, his warm breath tingling your ear. His cologne was clean, like the lapse of the waves on the shore back home where the tropical heat was a second skin. You listened, taking a weary, deep breath in, then out again. Again.

“Go on.” His knuckles rapped on the sheet. Miguel’s hand fell away. You found yourself longing for it again.

“He’s gorgeous.”

“I told you not to fuck him," your superior, Jess said, her feet bouncing off the stairstepper effortlessly.

“I didn't-- I just, he called me beautiful.”

“He would call anyone beautiful if it meant fucking them. Don’t fall for it.”

You knew Jess wouldn’t say it unless she were serious. She always knew what you needed help with, where to locate a good solution, and had the right words to calm you down.

“How?” you said, louder than you intended. You were suddenly thankful for the pounding music that beat down on your ears in your school’s gym and the rush of people that came and went. “Jess, you’re a lesbian. You don’t understand-- he’s thick. Like, he’s luchador status big. Big, big.”

“I’ve dated some thick women.”

“And he likes me,” you said pointedly, rushing to the topmost step, remembering his words. The way he calmed you down from your embarrassment, seeming without concern for his own body. It was… sweet. “Men usually don’t like me, Jess. I’m too… soft.”

“Okay, girl, whatever,” you were pretty sure she rolled her eyes. “Unless you’re going to be another one of his fuck toys, just ignore him.”

“How?”

Her stare trained on the floors lapsed. Thirty and she was still going. “If you don’t want him, just fire him. What’s going to do? Come find you?”

You stopped for the entirety of five… or ten seconds. Enough to consider her words. Enough to quite literally get plop off the stair stepper and onto the cold floor. Jess exhaled a stale breath, reaching over to jam the STOP button on your machine. Ow.

“Good job.”

Miguel likes to tutor you. Not because you’re good at Spanish, no, for a girl that grew up with a Spanish mother, your skills are quite poor. But he likes the opportunity to have you in a room all by yourself, late at night. Wednesdays are great days for that.

Your soft buttercup yellow dress is short today, exposing your thick thighs that take up so much of the chair. He pretends that he’s listening as you go over a list of irregular verbs, your lip pouting in response to the irregular verbs. Some were simple in their familiarity like poder with endings such as pudiste; but the plurals and other irregular verbs, you pouted at. It was cute.

“Miggy, it’s not funny, ” Oh, nicknames now. Miguel throws a glance at your glossy lips, undoubtedly sticky but oh so soft looking.

“I never said it was.”

“You’re smirking.”

“Then don’t whine,” he said. “It’s cute.”

“Oh--” As to be expected, you shifted your hands between your legs, drawing your skirt in between your legs. He faltered and took a glance, coasting his eye over its edges and memorizing the way it fell over your skin. You’ll ruin her, he remembers Jess saying. She wasn’t wrong, he sensed the bit of it now, how close you sat--

“Take a break, princesa. Vocabulary-- ascendencia.”

Rather than take a break, you turned and caught the corner of his lips in what was a terrible, cherry-red kiss that would stain his skin. But the connection of your lips, puckered in a pouting kiss on his skin, caught him off guard.

“Descent,” you took his red pen out of his loose grip, scribbling descent by the word. Fuck. Miguel took a sip of now cold coffee. A smile kept pulling at his cheeks, looking out of the window and catching the slight reflection of your lipstick smeared across his lip and cheek, he bobs his head into a nod.

“Correcto.”

You’re with Peter the first time you see Miguel with another woman.

It’s at lunch. Tuesdays and Thursdays are regularly spent running to the College of Arts, waiting for Peter to get out, and a picnic. Today, you forgot to bring lunch, running off to the union hand wrapped around his elbow as he talked to you about a bright new camera lens filter.

“These new pictures are going to come out perfect! Thanks for lending me the money,” he beamed. You loved the way he talked about his art-- stopping to show you his newest pictures of the camera that hung around his neck. Peter was always good with a camera, catching you in all the prettiest angles in your trade of photos for… sponsoring a lens or whatever. Or, at least, bringing down the cost. “Look at this one. Look how pretty you look in that dress, kinda like a pin-up! We should do some’a those next.”

Feet thumping over the pavement, you failed to sense Miguel's presence until you smelled his peppery cologne carried on the air. There, on a bench, he sat next to a girl. She was pretty, with long dark hair and soft skin. Her hand was on his thigh and his arm around her shoulder, eating the last bit of a flaky empanada-- your eyes burned, the closeness of her head on his shoulder, clearly done and finished, waiting for whatever next plan he had. You don’t want to know what that could be.

“Huh? Oh. hi Miguel!” Peter waved to your dismay. You held onto him a little tighter, wringing circles around his sleeve. Miguel spares you two a glance, his eyebrows pushing together. But he waves, lazy and short. You stifle the hot prick of tears at the corner of your eyes and yank Peter away. “Wha-- I’m coming, I’m coming!"

Days later, Peter has a plan.

“I’ve got it-- the solution to your tea guy problem! You should have told me sooner that it was Miguel.”

Peter was very excited. Why, you weren’t sure. He liked to feel helpful. That’s why he was a photographer. Photography lets others feel beautiful and seen. He picked at your lunch, his head flopped on your thigh as he worked through his camera.

“I’ll be your boyfriend!”

“You want to be my boyfriend?” you offered him a grape. He opened his mouth with an adorable ‘ah’ of his his lips. You slipped the grape between his lips. He chewed appreciatively. “I don’t know, Peter. Isn’t it lying?”

“C’mon, I know Miguel. He’s macho. The kind of guy you have to make jealous. And I can do it! I’m boyfriend material. Aren’t I?”

“Sí. But I don’t think I can make him jealous.”

It was a sunshiney day, sprawled out at lunch on a cool picnic blanket, tracing the clouds when you heard his voice. Soft, smooth, inviting. Your head spun around, this time with a lean blonde-haired girl-- her legs were long, tummy nice and flat, blue eyes shining like little sapphires set in her pale face. She swooned on his arm. The perfect sorority princess. What if he called her princesa, too?

“--close lab with me--”

“I can do it myself.”

Miguel’s eyes caught yours, raising his hand lazily to greet you as he walked down the sidewalk, undoubtedly back to his genetics lab on the other side of campus. Over where brilliant boys and girls and theys were, rushing through accelerated scientific programs while you figured out how to fix broken artifacts. He lived in another impossible world. A realm far away from Peter and you: photography and the maintenance of culture and art.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Peter's eyes were glossy with concern. “It’s okay. We don’t have to-- did I say something wrong?”

You shook your head. Peter sat up, his eyes bounced up-- from Miguel over his shoulder to your sudden sad eyes. Peter set his hand on your cheek, the fibers of his soft pink cardigan tickling your jaw. Your eyes tore from Miguel, whose pace became sluggish as if steps along took immense effort. Peter’s nose bumped against yours, clumsy and oh so Peterish-- his hand on the middle of your back, his warm but cracked lips swallowing the gasp that tumbled from your lips. He tasted of sweet fruit, the sloppy lunch you shared, and a silly comfort.

He watching? Peter murmured against your lips.

You nearly forgot to return the kiss, captured in the way Miguel stared-- something in his warm brown eyes was almost wounded. Peter shoved you onto the picnic blanket, a soft sorry murmured under his breath as his thin frame fell between your legs. Miguel stomped away, his bumbling blonde rushing to keep up.

“Oh yeah,” Peter rolled over onto his back, crossing his legs one over another. You watched Miguel stomp past the tall hedges, out of your line of sight. “He’s gonna be mad at you.”

“Peter!”

Miguel was still in a bad mood hours later.

“¡Qué surpresa!” he murmured, offering you your paper blotted with red circles. “You did remarkably shit on this test. Do you focus on anything? Or just Peter?”

“Perdona me.” Your focus was shot with his consistent presence in your life. Not that he could appreciate that.

“How long are you going to keep wasting my time?”

“Are you talking about the Spanish or--”

Miguel set the red pen down, a sharp slam snapping the pen under his force. The fragile plastic snapped into shards of plastic. He flicked it away, paper and pen both, his large hand flexing in and out of a closed fist. You traced the tracks of his veins along his forearm.

“Are you mad that I kissed you?”

“Stop.”

“Or are you angry that Peter did?”

“Don’t touch me.”

Though he said that, you didn’t listen. You slid out of the chair and in between his spread legs, your hands trailing his handsome jawline. He jerked back when your lips caught his, the legs of his chair hitting the wall. Though he said no, his mouth opened to your kiss, and his palms flushed against your soft cheeks. You pinned him between your body and the wall-- and though you were sure he’d quickly whirl you off if he really wanted to, he didn’t. His tongue pushed into your mouth, owning yours. His hands skimmed your back, trailing lower and lower down your deep red dress until he connected with your ass.

“You need to stop.” Miguel broke from his kiss. Though he said that, he brought you onto his lap. You felt little in his large arms, his hands guiding your hips over his crotch. “Before I do something you’ll regret.”

You listened to the sounds of the library’s floor. The scrunch of take out into the trash, the sing of a door opening and closing. It was dinner time. Most everyone had gone to get their snacks�� and here you were, looking down at Miguel with rapt eyes.

“Peter is just a friend.”

“A friend who happens to jam his tongue down your throat,” he turned the word over on his tongue and found offense in it. “Now why do I doubt that?”

“He only wanted to help.”

“By kissing you?”

Your fingers trailed his jaw, dipping back down for another kiss if only to say you could. That Miguel couldn’t tell you what to do. A sound of frustration ripped up his throat. You felt him, his dick twitching to life behind those sweatpants. He felt big. You bit your lower lip— a movement that didn’t escape his attentive eyes.

“By making you as jealous,” You slid off his lap and onto the dirty floor. But as you lifted a hand, cupping his dick through the heavy fabric, he couldn’t bear to stop you.

His lips pulled in a wicked grin, your soft palm stroking along his length. He hooked his thumbs into his sweats, yanking them down over his knees and onto the floor. His cock kissed his belly, straining with droplets of moisture at the tip. Miguel set his hand on your shoulder and forced you to heel on the floor. His temperament evened out. “You were jealous.”

“Yes--” you murmured. “Are.. those girls, are they special?”

“Special? No, none of them are.”

“I want to be.”

“That so?” Your soft hands trailed along the dark hair on his calves, up his thighs, settling your nose where his muscular hand tightened around the root. He wrenched his swarthy hand along his length, drawing along his veiny cock shamelessly. "Let's see how much you do, princesa."

“Please.”

“Aquí se habla español.” Miguel teased. Your fingers dipped down, small tickles of your fingertips as his heavy balls. He watched you massage them with half-lidded eyes, his lips pursing in a pleased hum.

“Por favor.”

“Abre,” you did, sliding your soft mouth open, a well of saliva on your tongue. Miguel slid himself into your warm mouth, a ruptured groan fizzing in his chest. You didn’t want to be too loud— someone might look into the small window on the door, and see you on your knees between Miguel’s thick legs, sucking his cock down when you should be going over that test you just failed.

You caught the salty beads at Miguel’s top on your tongue, sliding sloppily around his thick head, and lapping at his slit for more. Your soft hands stroked along his length, clumsy and shy. He hummed in approval, a sound you were more than thankful to elicit. Miguel took a fist full of your hair and drove himself into your mouth, your tongue stroking the underside of his length.

“Pero mira esto,” Miguel wrenched his head in your hair, grabbing handfuls of it in his palm. “You can focus on something. Sucking my dick.”

Even if you wanted to look up, Miguel drove your head down onto his dick, the dark, trimmed tuft of his pubic hair tickling your nose. He drew his hips back. You nearly pulled off him, if not for his hand assuring that you wouldn’t move off of it. Drool coursed down from your lips, soaking your chin and neck, connecting to his cock as if it were a spiderweb. Your cheeks flushed with blood— you must have looked a mess.

“Coño," Miguel tutted with his tongue, grasping his phone. Your lips pursed around his tip, eyes flickering up to catch the lens of his phone camera on your ruined face. A picture or a video, you weren’t entirely sure. Only that it sent thumps of pleasure down your core to know he wanted to record it, keep it close. You suckled along his sensitive head, working his moans free. He set his phone aside.

Miguel stood and dragged your head along with him to pin you between the ledge of the desk space and his wonderful hips. His hands slipped behind your head, keeping you still and steady, driving himself deep into your mouth. Past your tongue, down your throat, it felt like he hit parts of you that you could only dream of. You struggled with his size, choking the urge to swallow him when he forced you to hold him there. As if your throat was just a hole for his pleasure. Your sad attempt to suckle him down was tempered by the rocking of his hips, his needy face fucking. Your eyes screwed shut, bits of color dancing behind your eyes, the easiest way to deal with this was to focus— on the way he tasted, the scent of his fresh body wash, the light judder of his hips as he came close.

"Hah-- ay, qué rico," his nails scraped the back of your neck, sloppy and undefined thrusts filling your throat. He spurts thick ropes of his cum down your throat and mouth, withdrawing to jerk the last bursts of his cum over your lips. Miguel’s breath fell from his lips in heavy gulps, meeting yours down on your aching knees. Strings of coughed-up cum connected your sodden lips to his cock, globs of his seed slipping between your breasts. You ached.

“Tate quieta.”

You don’t know where you’d go, your palms catching yourself on the floor. He snapped another photo, humming appreciatively. Miguel reached into his gym bag, pulling a sweaty shirt free. Your fingers dipped into his warm cum that spattered across your warm chest, drawing it to your lips. He tasted salty, tangy, and just right.

"You look so-- so beautiful, princesa, just perfect," Miguel bent down, wiping the rest of his mess from your chest and face, gently stroking away all evidence of your face fucking before cleaning his cock and tucking himself away into his sweatpants. He chucked the t-shirt back into his bag, glazing his eyes over your hazy, exhausted eyes. He crouched down.

“Rule one, I never share my women,” he settled his knuckle under your chin, urging you to look him in the eyes. Something told him you wouldn't be as easy as the others, but for some reason, he shrugged the thought aside. “As long as I'm fucking you, you date no one but me. If I find out you are, we're done. Am I clear?”

He was a walking red flag. But for once, in your good girl life, you wanted that. You wanted to fuck in the library-- against the genetics building late at night-- to kiss him during a sunny picnic. More than you wanted a lot of things. His eyes went soft with your answer.

“Claro que sí, Miggy.”

He loves it when he gets what he wants.

#miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara oneshot #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara/reader #atsv imagines #atsv imagine #atsv miguel imagine #atsv x reader #atsv x you #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman smut #spider 2099 x reader #spiderman imagine #spiderman imagines

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de4dlyniightshade · 3 months

Text

꩜ WHAT'S A GIRL TO DO?

꩜ PAIRING: spencer reid x afab!reader

꩜ RATING: 18+, mdni

꩜ WORD COUNT: 2.9k

꩜ WARNINGS/CONTAINS!: smut, needy!spencer, vague mentions of injury, dry humping, making out, cumming in pants, handjob, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, dacryphilia, begging, light choking, brat!spencer, softdom!reader,

꩜ PROMPT(kinda): when he's begging so nicely and looking at you with those big eyes, what's a girl to do?

[WARNING!] - explicit sexual content! mdni!

꩜ A/N: ^•-•^

You knew that Spencer could be stubborn since the day you met him, which was never much of an issue; everyone could be stubborn at times, but this was hell in a handbag. He had only been out of hospital for two days, and you already felt like you were losing your voice from spending the entire day yelling his name, not to mention constantly forcing him to stay in bed.

"Spencer! sit down! You're not supposed to even be out of the hospital yet, let alone on your feet." You scolded for about the tenth time today. Honestly, you felt like a nurse taking care of an elderly, demented man with the willpower of a thirteen-year-old boy.

"I'm fine! I can walk; I don't wanna sit down anymore." Spencer bargained with you, trying to convince you that he wasn't in complete agony, which you knew he was, and you weren't about to let him make it any worse. You needed him healed and out of your hair as soon as possible, not because you didn't want to be around him; you just knew that he wanted to be better and back out in the field.

"You're a terrible patient, you know that?" You grumbled as you walked over to him, clearly unsteady on his feet, using your shared sofa to keep himself upright. "Sit down before you fall down," you ordered, placing your hands on his shoulders and urging him back onto the couch, where he insisted on being rather than in bed, where he was supposed to be, whining about wanting to be nearer to you, which is what made you cave. You couldn't deny him quality time with you, especially when he gave you his winning puppy eyes.

"If you don't cut it out, you're going straight back to bed, or I can give the doctor one phone call and he'll be the one taking care of you." You didn't mean to be demanding or strict with him; you just didn't want him to hurt himself further. It was purely out of love, and Spencer knew that, but he just couldn't help but want to be close to you. He had spent just over a week in a boring hospital room being showered with care, but it wasn't the care he wanted. He wanted to touch you; he needed it, and he was sick of trying to drop hints.

"Will you sit with me at least? please?" He pouted with those same puppy eyes that he used to get here in the first place, and you just couldn't say no, letting out a defeated sigh. "Alright, fine, but I'm still not happy with you," you warned, pointing an accusing finger at him as you carefully sat down next to him, lifting your arm instinctively so he could rest his head on your chest, his arms snaking around your waist.

You sat there with him curled against your chest, your fingers combing through his long hair as your chin rested on top of his head. It was a completely innocent moment between the both of you, or so you thought. Your brows furrowed as you felt Spencer sneak his hand under your shirt, trailing his way up until you grabbed his wrist, stopping him just shy of his destination.

"Nice try, mister," you quipped, Spencer letting out a whine of protest, fighting your hold on his wrist to no avail. "Come on, please? Can I please just touch you?" He begged, moving to rest his chin on your shoulder, trying to go three for three with those big eyes, but you weren't going to let him win this time. You were soft on him, but not that soft; you knew exactly where it would lead.

"Nope, hands off, hoppy; I know your little ploy and it's not gonna happen." Your tone was stern as you stared him down, his hand still under your shirt and a pout still on his lips. You did feel bad denying him, but doctors orders were no strenuous activities, and although groping wasn't strenuous, what would follow definitely was.

"Please, I just wanna feel you, I promise." Spencer bargained desperately, and you could feel him breaking down your will, but you forced yourself not to fall for it. "Spencer, no, don't make promises you can't keep." You felt a tightening in your chest as he looked back at you, pouting with big, sad eyes, and you could've sworn you saw his eyes welling up with tears.

"I'll keep it, I will, I promise. Please just let me touch you." You could hear the desperation in his voice as he begged and pleaded with you, tears now truly welling up in his eyes, and you broke. "Oh Spence, shh shh, don't cry, honey," you moved to quickly cup his cheeks, walking straight into his trap as he looked up at you with his picture-perfect sad face. Who could blame you?

"j-just miss you," he sniffled, and he wasn't lying about that or trying to trick you; he did actually miss you; he missed your warm, soft body and being close to you after having spent a week with the only physical affection being a peck on the lips, cheek, or forehead and a reassuring hand in his. Needless to say, he was sexually frustrated.

"Okay, okay, but you promised only touching, got it?" You reminded him, a stern look in your eyes as he nodded eagerly before moving to bury his face in the crook of your neck, finally inching his hand up to cup your breast, an almost silent whine falling from his lips, and you melted. You wouldn't admit it, but you'd missed his touch just as badly as he'd missed yours.

You felt Spencer breathing heavily against your neck as he continued to caress your soft flesh, his other hand gripping at your soft waist as you ran your fingers through his hair, cupping the back of his head as a quiet moan slipped past your lips when he suddenly pinched your nipple between his fingers, the sound making his sweatpants tighten and blood quickly rushing south.

"I-I need you, please," Spencer whined into your neck, placing a few open-mouthed kisses over your pulse, letting his tongue dart out to taste your skin, the feeling of his hot mouth on you almost clouding your judgement enough to let him continue before you realised what he was doing, snapping out of it.

"Spence, no, remember w-what the doctor said." You tried to pull away as you spoke, but Spencer just secured his arm around your waist, tugging you closer as he continued to mouth at your neck, gently suckling and licking your smooth skin, still rolling your sensitive nipple between his fingers.

"P-Please, I'll take anything. J-Just please, please touch me," Spencer mewled, moving to press his hard length into you, wincing as he strained his leg. "Spence, sit back, please." You placed your hand on his chest, pushing him to sit back to take the strain off of his injury, Spencer whining as you did, the loss of your body heat making him pout at you.

"Spence, come one, you know better," you sighed, a sympathetic look on your face as you kept your hand on his chest, stopping him from hurting himself further. "P-Please, I c-can't; it h-hurts, please," he panted, his eyes pleading and glassy as he shifted where he sat, his tip rubbing against the inside of his pants and making him whimper.

You felt yourself losing your composure watching him buck his hips into nothing, looking at you with those pleading eyes, his hair awry and clothes wrinkled. "You promise to stay completely still?" you questioned, watching Spencer lick his lips before he nodded quickly.

"Promise, I-I promise," he breathed, watching intently as you removed your hand from his chest, quickly moving to sling your leg over him, straddling his lap, and placing your hands on his shoulders. A whimper falling from his lips the second your clothed core pressed to his as he instinctively rutted his hips upward.

"Still. Spencer. Or I'll stop." You warned, lifting yourself off his lap to prove your point. "Sorry! 'm sorry!" He apologised quickly, forcing himself to sit still, placing his hands on your hips as you slowly lowered yourself back down, moving to tuck his hair behind his ears, letting your hands rest on either side of his neck.

"Now, behave; do you hear me?" You scolded, your eyes boring into his as he nodded shakily, swallowing thickly in anticipation before you leaned in, stopping a mere inch from his lips just to tease a little for a brief moment before you closed the gap, pressing your lips to his in an open-mouthed, almost desperate kiss.

Spencer's kissing quickly got messy, his organised, precise movements becoming sloppy and desperate as he kissed you with fervour, his hands gripping at the flesh on your hips, his cock twitching in his pants as he forced himself not to fuck into you no matter how badly he wanted to.

You let your tongue slip into his mouth, the feeling making Spencer let out a muffled moan, hands tightening on your hips to ground himself as you explored his mouth, your warm tongue sliding against his, the whole thing so messy and wet, a mixture of yours and Spencer's saliva trickling down his chin.

You were the first to pull away for air, a thick string of saliva connecting your lips to his, and you couldn't help but pull your bottom lip between your teeth at the sight of him, his hair tousled, cheeks flushed, and lips swollen, red, and glossy with spit, all while his painfully hard, leaking cock throbbed against you. You simply couldn't resist grinding on him, revelling in the way his eyes fluttered closed, brows pulled together, and his jaw fell slack.

"Oh, p-please," Spencer breathed, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he struggled to compose himself as you continued to grind on him, setting a steady pace as you ran your hands down from his neck to his shoulders and back up before you leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips before trailing down to his jaw, placing open-mouthed kisses along his jawline and down to his neck, stopping to nip and suck just below his ear, the sensation of your hot mouth on him making his hips roll into you.

Spencer couldn't resist trailing his hands under your shirt again to cup your boobs, massaging them gently in his large hands as you continued sucking red and purple marks into the smooth skin of his neck, licking over each mark as you did, tangling your hands in his hair, and tugging lightly, eliciting a moan from him as you did.

Spencer could feel an all-too-familiar feeling rising in his stomach as you rutted your hips into him at a fast pace, purposefully trying to get him to cum in his pants, and he wasn't about to stop you. The feeling of his impending orgasm completely overriding his better judgement for the mess it would make.

"I-I'm gonna-" Spencer couldn't even finish what he was saying, cutting himself off with a loud whimper as you rutted your hips particularly hard into him, a quiet moan falling from your lips, the sound making Spencer throb in his pants as he shallowly fucked into you, making sure to keep his leg completely still so you wouldn't stop your movements.

"Gonna make a mess of yourself, baby?" You husked in his ear, burying your hand in his hair and tugging at the roots, a choked whimper falling from his parted lips as he squeezed his eyes closed, his jaw falling slack.

"Mhm, d-don't stop, p-please don't stop," he mewled, rutting his cock into you as he felt his release so close he could almost taste it, letting out a constant stream of whimpers and moans as you trailed your hand around from the back of his head to rest on his throat, gradually pressing your fingertips harder into his pulse.

The feeling of your hand wrapped around his throat and the blood flow being cut off had him choking out a moan, babbling incoherently, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he shot spurts of cum into his sweatpants, completely soiling them, a slew of desperate sounds spilling from him.

"Happy now, hm? Always get your way," you murmured when you realised that you'd been hustled into giving him what he wanted, the ruse of him simply missing you clouding your judgement. Spencer couldn't even reply to you, just whining quietly, completely fucked out and pliant under you. The sight making a devious idea come to mind, a smirk tugging at your lips.

You shifted off his lap to rest on his thighs, trailing your hands down his body to stop at his hips, Spencer letting out a breath, thinking you were just sweetly touching him until you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants, harshly tugging them down enough to free his spent cock, the cold air making him gasp and open his eyes to look at you, a confused expression on his face until you pressed your hand to his length.

"No underwear, huh? Was this what you wanted all along?" you teased, quirking your brow at him as you slowly stroked your hand up his slick shaft, spencer writhing underneath you at the feeling, your words not even registering in his mind.

"I-I c-can't 'm sensitive," he mewled, gasping and arching his back as you wrapped your hand around his sensitive tip, purposefully paying extra attention just to watch him squirm and hear him whimper.

"Thought this was what you wanted, no? You wanted me to touch you." Your tone was low as you spoke, your words making him whine as his hips stuttered away from you, your brutal touch on his oversensitive tip making him writhe under you, pathetic cries ripped from his throat as tears welled in his eyes.

"P-Please, o-oh my g-god, please, I c-can't," Spencer gasped, his cock throbbing in your hand as you pumped his length at a fast pace, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as he panted and whimpered desperately, his hands gripping your thighs as tears spilled down his flushed cheeks, the overstimulation completely overwhelming him.

"You can, baby; I know you can; c'mon, pretty boy, cum for me," you breathed, clenching around nothing at the sight of him, his jaw slack and brows furrowed as he arched his back, his body tense and twitching as he felt his second orgasm approaching quickly.

"M g-gonna i-i mmph," he choked out, his head tipping back as he let out a quiet sob, his lips quivering and tears streaking down his neck. "That's it, baby, look at me. Wanna see that pretty face when I make you cum" you practically moaned, moving your hand from where it rested on his hip to take his face into your hand, his eyes fluttering open to look at you like you told him to.

"Good boy, such a good boy," you breathed, the praise making his cock twitch, rutting his hips into your hand as he choked out nonsense, a mix of your name and desperate pleas falling from his lips before he gasped loudly, his eyes rolling back his head and mouth dropping open as he came, making a mess of your hand and himself, his back arched towards you and hands gripping your thighs so tightly you were surprised it didn't hurt.

"That's it, baby, I've got you," you breathed, wrapping your arm around him and tugging him towards you as you continued to stroke him through his orgasm, the feeling making him let out quiet sobs into your neck as he wrapped his arms around you, his body shaking and twitching in the aftershocks of his high and the overstimulation.

You finally released his spent cock when he tried to squirm away from you, whining pitifully into your neck. "Shh shh baby," you murmured, wiping your hand on your pants before placing it on the back of his head and letting your nails lightly scratch his scalp to soothe him, a content sigh falling from his lips as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

"T-thank you," he breathed against your skin, his words making you croon at him, hugging him closer to you. "Too soft on you, y'know that?" You spoke as you let out a breathy laugh before you pressed a gentle kiss to his temple, your words making him huff slightly, knowing you were right.

"m sorry, just needed you so badly," he breathed into your skin, his voice laced with guilt and his tone hushed and meek, which made you coo at him. "Aw, don't be sorry, baby, can't say no to you, not when you beg so nicely," you teased, the reminder of how he begged so desperately, making him whine out of embarrassment, his cheeks blushing a dark pink.

"Let's get you cleaned up, hm?" You spoke softly, stroking his hair as he nodded into you before pulling away to look up at you with those big, pleading eyes and a pretty pout on his lips. "Will you watch Doctor Who with me after?" He asked meekly, his antics making your heart swell as you cupped his cheeks, pressing a kiss to his soft lips. "Of course I will, sweet boy," you spoke against his lips, feeling him smile before he surged forward to press his lips to yours in a passionate kiss, smiling into you, feeling like the luckiest man alive.

꩜ TAGLIST:

@cancersunthatsit @mindfullycriminal @teachugger69 @queermaxwooo @olives-and-sunshine @ac0511 @deluluforu @reidsdaisies @fliesforeyes @iluvreid @unimportantweirdo

(tagging moots bcs i'm annoying asf;)

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dilfsfordinner · 3 months

Text

summary- nanami kento being a girl dad

pairing- husband nanami x wife!reader

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with the growth of a child came the difficulties of their attitude, most adults making it known that they were struggling with parenting through the complaints of certain ages, like “the terrible twos”, which coincidentally, your daughter was in the current stage of.

“come here, now,” your voice was stern, all patience fizzling out of your system as you watched your little girl cross her arms indignantly, scowling at you before pointedly turning her head away.

it was nanami’s idea to use up your weekend at the beach, his optimism rubbing off on you prior to what was now a toddler’s tantrum.

“do you want me to count?” your eyebrows quirked as your daughter continued the silent treatment, hmphing in disobedience. “fine.. i’ll just tell your father.” at the mention of her dad, your baby immediately whipped toward you, her face contorting into a cry as she realized she wouldn’t get away with not listening, little feet stomping as you got up to talk to your husband who was currently preoccupied setting up a tiny, pink umbrella.

stopping with his task, nanami listened as you complained about your little girl not letting you put on sunscreen, her back apparently too sensitive to stand the cold cream. “help me, please,” you sighed, leaning your head against the bare skin of his chest, forehead resting against his collarbones.

a large hand began to rub up and down the length of your spine, comforting you, consoling you in a way that instantly had your nerves relaxing. “you sit down, i’ll deal with her,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head gently before pulling away to trek toward the pouting child in the sand only a few yards away.

the sun was already starting to beat down at only 8 o’clock in the morning, reinforcing your belief that sunscreen was indeed needed to protect your baby from sunburn or sickness. bottle in hand, nanami approached his little girl like she was a lion ready to pounce at him. she wouldn’t look at him either, braving a spanking to stand her ground.

sinking to his knees a few feet before her, nanami didn’t say anything, just opened the tube of sunblock, and began to manipulate the white lotion into a variety of different shapes. first, was a simple sun on the tan skin of his thigh. second, was a couple of flowers, trailing up the outside of his wrist and forearm. the third actually piqued the little girl’s interest, a big butterfly that was messily drawn on the expanse of his chest.

continuing his painting session, nanami concealed his smile as he heard sand begin to drag beneath what sounded strangely like knees, his peripheral vision granting him the ability to watch as his baby began to crawl toward him, big eyes zeroed in on the insect on his chest.

“daddy,” came a quiet voice beside him, nanami finally looking up from the haphazardly drawn shark on his knee to look at the curious little face of his daughter. her eyes were wide but wary as she pointed to his chest, tiny index coming up to smear the butterfly there, almost like she was testing the quality of the “paint” he had used.

“do you want to help me?” nanami asked gently, gesturing to the bottle in his hand. she tilted her head as if she actually had to ponder his question, before she was nodding excitedly, reaching for his hand in a hurried frenzy.

tsking, he pulled the bottle away quickly, his arm high above her head even while sitting. “if you help me, i get to help you too.. okay?”

nodding again, she tried and failed to reach the bottle, little eyebrows furrowing in annoyance. “pinky promise?” he asked softly, large hand coming down until only his pinky nudged the air before her. before he could pull away, her whole hand wrapped around his single finger, shaking it up and down like a giant shaking hands with an ant, he couldn’t help but laugh.

“alright, c’mere baby,” lifting her up by her waist, she set her feet on his thighs, his hands remaining wrapped around her belly to hold her upright before he deposited a puddle of sunscreen in her hand, awaiting her painting.

she certainly wasn’t gentle with it, repeatedly testing the safety limits of his face, one time almost jabbing a sunscreen-covered finger in his eye. slowly but surely, she began to smile, little giggles coming from her mouth, her reaction being enough to tell him that he didn’t even want to know what was occurring on his face.

after a couple minutes, she leaned back in his hands, her index leaving a swipe of white on the tip of his nose before she started to giggle again, “mister kitty.”

ignoring the revelation of her comment, he tickled her sides, smiling at the shrill laughter that echoed along the empty beach, drinking in the fact that his little girl was happy again, that one of her moods hadn’t ruined the day before it even started.

ruffling the fuzzy mop of hair atop her head, he kissed her forehead, “can daddy paint you now?” he asked nicely, her response giddy and quick, clapping her little hands before plopping down into the sand, back to him.

“i want a kitty too!” she practically barked, wiggling her toes in the sand to conceal her very apparent excitement.

“yes ma’am,” nanami murmered, squirting a generous amount of sunscreen in his hand before he began applying the white paste all over her back, letting his hands “accidentally” travel over her arms and legs, somehow successfully applying sunscreen to every necessary area without her noticing.

finishing up, he patted her bottom, urging her to “go show mommy” to which she complied, hurriedly clambering across the sand to jump in front of you, trying (and failing) to point at the “painting” on her back.

“isn’t he cute?” she gushed, jumping up and down, obviously referencing the cat she assumed was on her back.

looking up from your giggling child, you watched as your husband sauntered toward your position on the beach blanket, triumphant grin on his face at his accomplishment. a smile pulled at your own lips at this, not because of his success, but because of the white whiskers and nose that had been slathered across his face by the hand of the girl sitting before you, makeshift face paint making him the world’s cutest dad.

swallowing a laugh, you pulled your baby into your arms, rocking her back and forth as you watched your sun-kissed lover begin to set up that tiny umbrella once again.. strong muscles glinting in the sun heavily offset by the cute kitten makeup on his face… “he sure is.”

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#i hate the word daddy now but it was better than papa cause i only ever think of stranger things with that name #nanami fluff #dad nanami #girl dad nanami #jjk x reader #jjk x fem!reader #jjk fluff #nanami x fem!reader #nanami kento fluff #nanamin

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j-u-u-z-o · 4 months

Text

“Watch and Learn, Brat!” High school Yuuji x F. High School Reader x Sukuna NSFW‼️

AN: My mind went out of control on this one — not sure what i was on. But I was listening to Angora hills by Doja cat and this happened. 😩

Credits: to the OP for the cute bedroom pics I found on Pinterest. 💕

Synopsis: You just want to spend time with your boyfriend and your parents aren’t home yet. Luckily, take the opportunity to chill and get some more extra time together. However, sukuna doesn’t like third wheeling and judges Yuuji’s terrible oral game. What’s he gonna do? Show him.

WARNING: both are 17/18years old, needy gf, dry humping, Oral, squirting/drinking, Sukuna being cocky, fingering, GRAMMAR.

Don’t read if you’re illiterate — read my WARNING. Otherwise, DO NOT INTERACT/WASTE YOUR TIME.

Take your time reading due to pacing —Enjoy! 😉

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“Yuu? Pleeeease? Can you stay over for a little bit?” You begged, wrapping your arms around his arm while you and him were walking to your house from school.

“Umm…” he looked down at you and then looked straight ahead at the crosswalk. “I don’t know. Your parents might be home now.” He said, assuming that they already are. He just wanted to walk you home from school since he had a half-day from jujutsu tech.

“They’re not. I know that.” You pouted, looking down at yours and his footsteps as you walked, matching his steps. “Hm? How do you know that?” He raised an eyebrow, looking at you again, and stopping at the crosswalk. “Because!” You said, thinking of another reason to get get him to come stay with you. Even if it was for 30 mins. Yuuji waited. On purpose. He knew you didn’t have a good reason to back up your statement. “Because you don’t know, babe.” He snorted, bringing his hand up to his mouth to cover his laugh but ultimately failed.

“It’s not funny!” You said, feeling like you lost an easy game of “Life.”

Suddenly a great idea came to mind. “Okay!” You jumped in the middle of the street. “If I make it home before my parents then you have to stay with me until they come home!” You looked at him expectantly, waiting for his turn to try to be a good boyfriend. Even though he already is. “Don’t you have any homework to do?” “Yes!” “Hmm. Fine.” He shrugged and you raised your hands in victory as you both made it to the end of the street.

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The walk home was quiet and peaceful as you walked with your boyfriend. His fingers interlaced with yours — warm and safe. You looked at him and noticed that His yellow hoodie makes him stand out more. I should keep it. “What’s wrong? Something’s on my face? Besides these little things?” He pointed to his face with his free hand. “Mm. Nothing~”, you giggled, his curiosity getting the best of him.

When you turned the corner, you noticed that neither of your parents cars were in the driveway from 8 houses away. “They’re not home! Yay!” You cheered. “Huh?” He squinted very hard. “Hm. I guess…they’re not,then.” He said, a bit surprised that he assumed wrong earlier. You quickly grabbed his hand and ran to your house and made it to the front door. Quickly taking out your house eyes. Yuuji looked at you in awe. Realizing that he spending quality with you, even if was until your parents came back from work, shouldn’t hurt.

You quickly took off your school shoes and ran into the living room. Leaving him behind. He took off his own and fixed yours and put it to the side. “Alrighty then.” He sighed, stepping into the hallway. A chunky cat limped walked out the living room and looked up at Yuuji. “Oh? Sakana!” He called out, walking to pet him. “Yaa…I haven’t seen you in forever. You’ve grown… so much.” He stroked the round animal’s soft fur. He purred. “Heheh. Your name fit you well enough.” He chuckled, trying to pick him up but the cat meowed in refusal. “Yuuji? Babe?” You called him, opening a bag of chips. “Yes, yes. I’m coming!”

*Sakana = fish served with sake.

He walked into the living room and saw you sitting on the couch with a few bags of chips next to you and the tv on. “Cooome~” you whined, patting on the cushion next to you, worried that your parents would come home in any minute. “Aren’t you gonna do your homework first?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, walking towards you. You sighed in annoyance. “Yeah. But first I want to eat something and chill for a little bit. Now, come here!” You pulled his sleeve with force to make him sit down already.

A few moments passed, you’re sitting beside him with your legs hooked over his and his arm hooked around your shoulders, as you both munched on some chips and watched an afternoon comedy show. Some laughs and quick pecks from his and your lips were exchanged in the living room, while Sakana rested next to Yuuji.

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“Haaa…that was a good episode.” He mumbled, eating a chip you fed him. “What time is it?” He asked, kissing your temple.

You looked at the time. “It’s 5:04pm.” You turned to look at him. Your parents didn’t come home yet. Usually they come back around 4:30pm. You didn’t want to tell him that.

A comfortable a silence was felt in the living room.

“Well! It’s time for you to do your homework.”

“…” you sat with this in your mind as you watched his chest rise and fall under the yellow hoodie. “Yuuji…’” you called softly. “Hm? What’s up?” He looked down at you, you sounded a bit sad. “Let’s go upstairs. To my room.” You said softly, playing with the strings from his hoodie. “Huh?” He blinked. “Why?” “I wanna do my homework in my room, babe.” Your eyelashes flickered up to him, your hand caressing his midsection and moving it up to his chest.

Another wave of silence followed.

“Y/n. Don’t lie to —“ he said, knowing what you’re probably thinking about — probably wanting to do something else, which you both have done in the past, as a little “distraction”. but, he didn’t want to assume again. Plus, you needed to do your homework.

“ I just want a change of scenery.” You said lowly, caressing his chest.

“Umm. Yeah. Sure.” He shrugged, unhooking his arm around your neck and gently lifting your legs that laid atop his, to start cleaning up. After you both cleaned up, you held onto his hand and led him upstairs. “Bye Sakana!” He waved, smiling at the chunky cat laying down like a potato now that the two of you left your seats. You giggled as you walked up the stairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You happily skipped to your bedroom door with your hand still held in his and opened it. Stepping into your room, a bunch of Stuffed animals all over your bed caught his attention in the pink colored room. You happily walked and jumped on your bed and sat on your knees. Yuuji looked at you in surprise as he stood by your bedroom door. “Come here!” You said, smiling as you beckoned your finger to get him to come to you. He walked towards you with a straight face as you looked giddy as you made room for him on the bed and reaching out your hand to get his.

His hands remained on sides, stopping in his tracks. “I thought you said you wanted to do homework”. He said disappointment, looking down at you to see what you were going to say this time. Your smiling face slowly disappeared as he confronted you. You lied. “I - I did it during lunchtime.” You spoke lowly, feeling bad. He facepalmed. “Why did you lie to me, y/n?” He stood at the side of the bed with a straight face— in disbelief. “I don’t want you to leave me alone after — “ your eyes looked down on the pink Sanrio rug. “after what? He sharply, knowing that he caught you lying in the first place. “After you do your homework?” He pointed out.

You shrugged, escaping his eyes and looking around your room. “I’m leaving.” “Nooo~” you whined, pulling his hoodie with your hand, and quickly sitting up on your knees. ”I’m sorry.” You croaked, putting your hands inside the middle pocket of his hoodie, looking at him with a sad pouty face. He looked at you with anticipation. “For lying to you.” You added, looking for forgiveness in his eyes. “Okay. But don’t do that again, ok?” He said, cupping your cheeks. You nodded and he gave you a quick soft kiss on the lips. “Mmm. Let’s cuddle now!” Feeling giddy, taking your hands out of his pocket to pull him closer from the waistline of his pants, playfully. “I can’t believe you,” he sighed, shaking his head and quickly pushing you on the bed, earning him a playful giggle as you landed on your back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Soft lip smacking sounds echoed in the room as you two laid on each other’s sides. You both whispered sweet nothings and giggles in the pink bedroom. Chest to chest, your soft thumb brushed his cheek, back and forth. You hooked your leg over his waist to keep him close to you even though he wasn’t going anywhere — soon. “Mmm.” You moaned softly, feeling his warm palm stroke your leg hooked over his waist. His fingers slowly creeping up to your ass but not close enough.

Minutes later, you tugged on his hoodie to get him to take it off. Without a word, He sat up and took it off. You watched his abs flex while he pulled it over his head. “Better now?” He asked, looking down at your smiling face and nodding. You’re so spoiled. He moved around and was now in between your legs and continued to kiss your soft lips more.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and your soft hands held his cheeks while your lips smacked against his slowly. Soon after, he kisses your neck. Peppering it with kisses. You stretched your neck out to give him more room as you stared up as your pink ceiling and stroked his biceps. “It’s your turn now. Fair is fair.” He said, unbuttoning your buttoned up uniform shirt. He pushed up your bra — revealing your breasts. He gazed down at your globes and your nipples that were already erect from his ministrations earlier. He bent over to kiss around your round flesh before he licked it gently.

“M-mm!” You twitched, feeling sensitive nipple receive the pure sensation from the familiar muscle it knows all too well. He circles it while his eyes were closed. Your nipples always seem to put him in ease. Your soft pants rang in his ears as he did so. “Ahh.” You panted, tracing circles on the back of hjs shoulder , the other brushing his hair messily while you watched his tongue cover your nipple with his saliva.

“Mmm.” You whimpered, relishing the appendage flicking it, desirably. “Haaa…” you sighed, his tongue feeling too good on your nipple while he went back to circling it slowly. He did the same with the other, Pushing your chest up closer to his mouth. “Ah. Like that.” You whispered, resting your hands on either side of his head, watching him wrap his lips around your nipple and suck it.

He went back to kissing you for a moment. You were lost in the passionate kisses — pushing your chest up against his to feel your nipples brush his soft skin. “Mmm.” You moaned, arching your back to keep close to his chest, nearly lifting your head up from your pillow. However, he abruptly broke the kiss and looked out your window. Which faces the front of the house — and the driveway. His eyes searched for your parents car. Whether if it was one end of the block or the other.“Stooop.” You cried, looking up at him with a sad expression. “I’m just checking —“ he still looked. “They aren’t gonna come soon, yuu’” you pulled his face away from the window to look at you and tightened your grip around his waist.” “Let’s just focus on us.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The passionate kisses grew deeper. He slid his hand under your uniform skirt — kneading your thighs and stroking your legs. Which was covered by your high knee socks. Your legs rested in the air as he did so. Earning a moan from you when you felt his fingers brush your inner thighs with just his fingertips. Gently clawing you with feather-light strokes — making you quiver underneath him.

His soft clawing on your smooth skin made you pussy throb under your covered panties. “Feels so good.” You mumbled, caressing his muscles with your fingertips, mimicking his ministrations. He hummed in he passionate kisses and pushed your skirt up. Revealing your panties. you slid your hand down to your clothed pussy and rubbed it. You moaned and broke the kiss. He watched you for a second before he looked down — slowly realizing what you were doing. Biting his bottom lip, he watched you do your task. “Ahh.” You sighed, observing him as you began circling your covered clit, slowly.

He followed your fingers tracing your clothed pussy in circles. You low pants rang in his ears as he watched you so. He lets go of your inner thighs and began unzipping his pants. You watched him pull out his clothed bulge afterwards. You tilted your head to the side as you watched him knead it while you slowly kept flicking your clothed clit.

Yuuji reached out for your hand to caress the hidden flesh. You kneaded it gently — exploring the warm flesh under your fingertips. Soon after, your finger founded the tip and you began rubbing it with your fingertip, softly. “Ahh.” He moaned lowly, relishing the soft tingles on the head of his clothed cock. You hummed as you do while your free hand rubbed your clothed clit in circles. He moved your hand and replaced it with his own began rubbing your clothed pussy. Your grounded your hips down for better friction as his thumb stroked your throbbing clit.

Your gratified breathes filled the room as you caressed one another. Yuuji bent over to leave a soft kiss on your forehead and temples as you stroked his erected cock under his boxers. You watched your task while feeling the soft wet kisses on your skin. After a while, you felt a wet patch on your panties from his ministrations. It didn’t go unnoticed by Yuuji when he felt how slippery the fabric was getting. He leaned back to see and groaned.

His cock twitched under your grasp. He bent over — positioning himself to align his clothed cock to your clothed pussy. His warm weight made your stomach flutter now that your chest to chest. You both were getting comfortable in this position as the sheets shifted a bit more. With your feet on either side of his hips and your legs spread open due to his broad waist, you shivered when you felt his clothed cock rub against your pussy. “Unh.” You whimpered, the familiar warmth of his cock and your wet panties mixed well with the friction you were receiving. You held onto his biceps while he grinds against your pussy, steadily.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hmm….hmmm~…” your erotic moans echoed in the room along with the sounds of your bed creaking slowly underneath you. Your covered legs dangled in the air as you were slowly getting rocked by his ministrations. “Mmm.” You hummed satisfyingly, feeling his soft lips on your neck while he nuzzled his face there. You rolled your hips up to meet his thrusts. And each time you did, the tip bumped your cunt and slid up to your throbbing clit. Earning a satisfied pant from your lips. Yuuji moaned as he felt the tip push against your core — feeling your slick warmth cover the tip of his cock — slipping up to your cunt. Forming a wet patch on the crotch area on his boxers. “Ahh. Yuu’” you said lowly, “feels so good.” Pushing your head back against the pillow, relishing the sheer friction you were getting while you circled your hips — Feeling his tip rub against your clit over and over, as you so.

“Mmm…mmmm.” You moaned in pure satisfaction, gently clawing his back while he pushed his hips down roughly against you. Making the bed creak roughly. “You like that, baby.” He whispered, watching how blissed out you looked below him. His lips met yours in a slow yet passionate way. Your panties were completely soaked from his controlled thrusts; your warm arousal getting smothered messily — making you feel so lewd. The bed creaked relentlessly while he held onto your knees from underneath. Your breasts bounced around steadily whisk you watch him buck against you. “So wet.” He mumbled, getting a better view of your soaked pussy under the fabric — thanks to the clear and big wet patch. “Oh fuck yeah.” He drawled out, getting distracted by your pretty pussy.

You hand reached out to feel his abs while youwere whimpering in the midst of listening to his pleasurable words. His stomach pulled in as felt your feather-light touch. He quickly shifted his position by gripping your knees from underneath and bending over and began to jackrabbiting.

You were getting rocked quickly in his grip. The bed shook crazily along with your rapid pants and your legs dangling in the air. You cupped his cheeks as he bit his bottom lip — completely focused on meeting his high. You watched him drag a long satisfied moan — the tip receiving the perfect pressure of rubbing your clothed pussy, while he humped you frantically. “A-ahh. Y-yuu.’” you mumbled, feeling the tip rubbing your nub while rocking your hips quickly for sheer friction. Your mouth slowly opened as your clit was beginning to pulsate, rapidly.

His eyes were still closed while he breathed heavily. “U-ugh.” Your mouth widened as you were feeling the release of your orgasm dance all over your body. You clit throbbed uncontrollably. “U-Unh!” you were twitching underneath him until he froze. He breathed heavily — slowly opening his eyes to meet yours. Your body was so tense that you remained unmoved as you looked up at him. “Hehe.” He gave a breathless laugh, his chest having from the first orgasm. “That’s my bad.” He grinned, blushing uncontrollably. You giggled and pulled his face to pepper his lips with kisses — feeling his warm fluid on your clothed pussy.

“Let’s keep going then, babe.” You said, rolling your clothed pussy against.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Snuggling with him for this long broke a new record, you mentally noted. It’s almost getting dark outside. Cuddled up with him in between your legs, exchanging kisses as your bodies were tangled together after cooling off. A few minutes after, He crawled down and stroked your inner thighs. You quivered making him chuckle. He pulled down your panties and threw at the end of the bed behind him. “These can stay.” He pointed to your black high knee socks. He laid flat on his stomach —facing your pussy. “Mm!” You whimpered, feeling the feathery touches of his fingers spread your folds open, making you shiver. “Look at that.” He mumbled to himself, watching his finger brush your clit, gently. The tingling sensation fluttered in your veins; clenching on nothing as he did so.

He then spread you open with both hands and leaned in to lick your clit. He licked it in circles with his eyes closed. “Haaa…” you sighed heavily, the warm appendage licking your nub lovingly. His crafty tongue licked it slowly before wrapping his lips around it — sucking it gently. “A-aah!” You gasped, moving your hand up to your mouth.

You lower tummy ached at the overtaking laps he made on your clit. It felt so warm. Your little bush in the middle, you watched the muscle lick your puffy clit. Your nub getting shifted around the appendage and covered with his saliva. You whined. “Mmmm.” He hummed, open mouth kissing your pussy steadily. “Oh fuck.” You panted, listening to the deep kisses done to your throbbing pussy.

You reached out your hand and rested it atop his fluffy pink hair. His movements were so smooth and soft that your clit pulsated relentlessly. You applied weight on your hand and pushed it down. He chuckled and began bobbing his head slowly. “U-ungh.” You cried, grounding your hips for good measure as he sucked hour clit with his puckered lips. “Unh. Yeah.” You breathed out, pushing his head down steadily, watching him so. “Oh fuck.” You panted lowly, laying your hand back on the pillow with your eyes closed.

You toes clenched on either side of his head. His grip on your inner thighs, close to your ass, while he took his time eating you out all made you feel putty. The light sucking sounds rang in yours ears — the slow yet gentle pace taking you in with him. Yuuji was focused on his task. His eyes were also closed as he ate your pussy, passionately. “Oooooh.” You groaned, your legs trembling as he moved his face side to side. Soon after, your rested your hands on either side of his head. Steering his head as he circled it around — his tongue gliding against your folds in circles making you feel that hot appendage all over your pussy while you whispered words of encouragement to him.

A particular swipe of his tongue made you gasp and roll yours hips up to his to his face. “Oh fuck…yeah.” You breathed out, lifting your head up from the pillow to watch your boyfriend. A great view of your puffy pussy receiving the sheer friction from his crafty tongue. You whined playfully when he circled your clit with a grin on his face. “You’re so cute.” You giggled breathlessly, resting your hands on his cheek to steer him.

He began flicking his tongue rapidly— making you body tense as he so. “A-ahh. Like that.” You said thickly, feeling the sparks in your lower stomach. his saliva dripped down your pussy and onto the pink blanket. “Ahhh. Y-yeah!” You moaned, you began riding his tongue frantically. You pushed your head back on the pillow and pulled his head from behind close to your needy throbbing pussy to keep him there. “Haaa…haaa.” You panted breathlessly, getting closer and closer to your release. Your legs dangling in the air quickly — your feet “fighting” the air as you rode his face quickly.

The bouncing bedsprings squeaked endlessly due to your hips gyrating against his face. “O-ooooh!.” You cried out heavily, your body twitching as your pussy pulsates uncontrollably. He pushed your knees down to the mattress and dipped his tongue in your cunt. You mouth quickly widened. “Y-y-uu!” You bucked your hips up roughly to get it in deeper — his nose bumping against your throbbing clit. Soon after our hands gripped his broad shoulders for good measure and you humped his tongue feverishly, beginning to spurt out on the sides of his mouth every second. “Uuuunghh.” You groaned deeply, Your hips stuttering until you froze — squirting in his mouth, in pure relief.

The room was very still. Quiet, as a matter of fact. Except for the sounds of your fluids filling his mouth in the quiet room. Your mouth wide open, you breathed heavily as you watched him mouth your pussy until you finished entirely; drinking it with a satisfying hum to finish off. You didn’t expect him to do that at all. A new kink you discovered from him, you noted.

“Ngh!” You twitched, feeling your sore clit throbbing when he started swirling his tongue on it. He looked so drunk in between your legs. “Ah!” You hissed, watching him leave a wide and loud kiss on your clit to finish. “Haaa…Yuu’” you said breathlessly, smiling at his glistening face covered with your fluids, dripping down his chin and on the pink blanket.

“Come’re.” You said softly, gently caressing underneath his chin. He submitted and smiled — crawling up to your chest. “You made me feel so good, baby.” Your soft voice made him feel warm inside. He hummed and pecked your lips. “Yeah. Cause’ I love my girlfriend, y know? You hummed in agreement. “And I love you too, baby.” You said, the heel of your feet rubbing the back of his legs.

He gave a breathless laugh and kissed your forehead softly before turning to grab his yellow hoodie —

Suddenly he froze.

“Hm?” You blinked curiously. He looked like statue. “Yuuji?” You called softly, looking confused.

“That was terrible.” A gruff voice echoed from the dark void.

“What do you know? You don’t even have a girlfriend!” He looked up at the tattooed man sitting on top of skulls. The kind of curses. Sukuna.

“I know how to make a women beg for her life and not do all the work. You didn’t even finger her this time, dumbass.”

“Wha—“He said, gawking at him in retort.” The hell are you talking about?! She loved it!”

“Sure.” He said sarcastically, You should learn from me, honestly.” He stared down at Yuuji with a smirk.

“Why the hell should I learn from a guy that has 20 fingers?” He eyebrow twitched, trying to maintain self control.

He chuckled. “You’re blind too, brat?” He looked down at Yuuji with his knuckles supporting his cheek. “You’re useless.” He rolled his eyes.

“Oi!”

Sukuna sighed. Replaying the moments where you did most of the work to make you cum — even telling him what to do. He stared at Yuuji with disinterest. She’s good at hiding it. He mentally noted.

“Christ. Hey, Brat.”

“Stop call me that —“

“I have a proposal for you.”

“Huh??”

“Allow me. He emphasized, a grin creeping up his face. “To show you how to turn her into a hot mess with my skills. Just Watch and learn, brat. Can you do that?”

“Absolutely not—“

“Ask her, then.” He chuckled.

Sukuna chuckled and pushed him out of the void and Yuuji snapped back into reality. He blinked several times to see clearly again while you gently scratched his undercut. “Yuu?” You looked concerned. “Hm?” “You okay?” “Oh, yeah. Um about that.” He looked around to think of how to ask you. “What is it?” You said softly. “Ah damn.” He dropped his head, laughing s bit to distract himself. “Itadori.” He stopped and looked up at you. “Is it okay if…sukuna can show you me how to make you feel more…good?”

“Umm.” You tucked your lips in. “You remember him right the guy that kinda looks like me but with tattooes?” He reminded you. You nodded. “Yeah so, if you want —“

“Yes.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~”Stop if you feel uncomfortable, okay?” He said, leaning down to give you a peck on your lips. “Okay.” You hummed. Yuuji took a deep breath and closed his eyes.Suddenly your orbs were tracing the tattoos appearing on your boyfriend’s body until it landed on his face. His hair has risen up too. His eyes slowly opened — eyes staring at you. Not Yuuji’s. Sukuna’s. Scarlet eyes, in fact. You wondered if he actually saw everything earlier. Since you sometimes forget that your boyfriend is hosting an old curse inside his body.

“Heh. I see the brat has good taste in women.” Your eyes widened — speechless, in fact. “Now, let me show you how it’s done.” He grinned heinously close to your face.

A moments passed and your throat was hurting so much from your uncontrollable pants while you were being fingered to oblivion by Sukuna. The filthy squelching sounds from your sobbing cunt echoed in the room. “So fucking tight.” He mumbled, holding your knees down to the sides of your chest with his yuuji’s forearm as he did his task. “Unnghh! Don’t stop!” You whined, drooling from the overtaking sensation.

That brat can’t please you for shit.” He beckoned his fingers to rub your sweet spot — making you see stars. He leaned over and sucked your clit while his fingers fucked you. “Ahh!” You moaned, pushing your hips up to meet his quick thrusts. Soon after, your walls squeezed his fingers from the way he sucked your throbbing clit until you’re squirted on his yuuji’s midsection.

“Hehehe.” He chuckled while he rubbed your g-spot with his bent fingers, watching you squirt each time as he did so. “That’s it. Good girl.” “Mmm.” You hummed, feeling putty from being overstimulated.

“Tch. I could fuck you right now but your parents are here.” He said, his red orbs following the headlights. He saw a black sedan pull up on the driveway. “Huh?” You panted, following his scarlet eyes. you quickly got up and turned to look out the window.

He’s right.

You checked the time. 7:59pm

“Oh my gosh.” You mumbled, quickly turing back to peekout the window. Unbeknownst that your ass in front of him. “Hmmm.” He hummed, caressing your ass with his yuuji’s palm. “Yelp!” He smacked your ass roughly — pulling your hips back against his yuuji’s hips. “Or maybe I can.” He chuckled.

“Hey! Bring my boyfriend back to me!” You growled.

“You’re a feisty one, aren’t you.” He smirked, the tattoos slowly vanishing from yuuji’s skin. You saw his body fall backwards on the bed. You turned to him quickly. “Babe! Wake up!” You whispered to him loudly, tapping his face to quickly regain consciousness.

End.

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