#something about being so young and all alone with the dread you feel about your own body | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mollysolo · 7 months

Note

hii can i request a sacred the thread with bucky barnes where it’s a tlou au and bucky and the reader are sent to go find an old friend of sam’s. like an enemies to lovers kinda thing. and congrats on 3k! :)

Labyrinth

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X fem!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky learn to get along when you are sent out on a mission together.

Warnings: Crying, Bucky is mean to the reader, arguing, some insults, there is an age gap between Bucky and the reader (Bucky is 42, the reader is 33), some cursing, kissing, idiots in love, tlou au, mention of guns, mutual pining

Word Count: 2.6k

a/n: i hope you like this!

my 3k follower celebration!

the gif below does not belong to me

For as long as you and Bucky had known each other, you’ve never gotten along. But that wasn’t your fault, you tried to be nice to him like you were to any other person in Jackson. But he just seemed to always treat you horribly anytime you spoke to him.

And you never understood why, but you weren’t going to kiss up to him. If he hates you, there’s nothing you were going to do try to change that. Even though the very thought of him hating you made you feel like your heart was slowly breaking in your chest because you were in love with him and had been for months. But the way he was treating you showed you that he quite obviously didn’t feel the same.

Little did you know, Bucky was in love with you too. He had been in love with you since the day you arrived in Jackson and he had seen Sam showing you around. But he had been scared of the feelings he has for you and has been immature about this whole situation ever since. He was being mean to you just because he liked you and he didn’t know what to do about it like he was still a young boy and he hated himself for that.

The only reason you two interacted at all was because Sam — who ran the community in Jackson — had assigned you to do patrol together every other morning. And right off the bat, Bucky had started to just be an asshole to you and only you.

He’d mercilessly tease you, insult you, torment you about how you lived alone and mostly kept to yourself. “Y’know, I’m not surprised that you live alone, doll. I don’t know why anyone want to live with you or love you, you’re always quiet and when you do talk, you’re just boring.” He had said to you one morning, causing tears to start to well up in your eyes. “Fuck you, Bucky.” you had said in response as you faced away from him and swiftly wiped your tears away.

And as much you would’ve liked to run home anytime he insulted you, that wasn’t an option during your patrol shifts. So you stayed there and tuned him out, not letting what he was saying to you bother you. But that particular statement, really dug deep. It hurt to hear the man you were in love with say these things to you.

You wished that he would just give up on insulting you. And little did Bucky know, the reason you were so introverted was because you had survived on your own for years since you were a kid and teenager and hadn’t gotten used to living close to other people again without worrying if you were in danger. You were taking it all one slow step at a time because that’s what worked for you. If only Bucky knew that, then maybe he’d stop being mean to you.

————————————

One morning in early December when you and Bucky weren’t on your patrol shift, Sam had called you two into his office because he had something he needed to discuss with you and Bucky. You were dreading to find out what he wanted to talk to you about. What if Sam sent you out on a mission with Bucky? Would you even be able to survive being completely alone with that man?

And that fear ended up becoming your reality just minutes after you got to Sam’s office. Sam was sending you and Bucky to find an old friend of his by the name of Joaquin Torres. This man used to live in Jackson and run the community along side Sam but he had randomly disappeared five years ago and Sam had finally gotten some insight on where Joaquin might be hiding.

So he decided to send you and Bucky — his best fighters and scavengers — to find him and bring him back. The two of you would leave tomorrow morning at 9am and start heading north.

You groaned and rolled your eyes the second Sam had told you that two of you would be going on a mission together. “Isn’t there someone else you can send with me?” you asked Sam, desperately hoping that he’d say yes.

Sam sighed as he began to respond to your question, “No, there isn’t. I’m sorry, (y/n) but you and Bucky are just going to have to learn to get along.” he had said to you, causing you to let out another groan.

You took a deep breath, “Fine.” you replied, getting one simple nod of his head from Sam in response.

You then stormed out of Sam’s office to go pack for the mission, leaving Bucky behind in the room. And once you were gone, Bucky looked down at his feet and let out a deep breath as he thought about all of this for a moment.

Sam knew just how much Bucky loved you and he didn’t know how long he was going to last on this mission before he started apologizing for everything and then admitting his feelings to you.

But now that he was actually thinking about it, that didn’t sound so bad. He just hoped that you would forgive him when that time for him to apologize came around. Bucky then looked at Sam one more time, nodded his head in understanding then left, off to pack his own bag for the mission.

And as you walked home from Sam’s office, this mission was starting to not sound so bad to you as well. Maybe this would give you and Bucky the chance to actually get to know each other without the arguments and insults. Maybe he’d fall in love with you too.

————————————

The following morning, you got up early and went to meet Bucky at the entrance to the community after grabbing some things you would need, your shotgun and bag strapped to your back, the horse Sam was letting you borrow standing at your side.

You arrived at your meeting place at 8:59am, earning an eye roll from Bucky.

“Do you even know how to be on time? We have to leave right now, we don’t have anytime to make a plan for how this mission should go.” Bucky complained, glaring at you as he got onto his own horse.

“Oh sorry, I was just busy getting enough of the resources we’ll need on this mission so that we don’t die.” you sternly replied, glaring right back at him as you got onto your horse, the bottom of your bag gently bumping against its back as you got on.

That sentence made Bucky’s eyes widen and it reminded him that all you had ever been was nice to him, even when he had been quite the opposite to you. But he was still too full of his pride to apologize so he simply nodded in response and motioned for you to follow him on the path you were supposed to go down.

————————————

The two of you road your horses on the path you were supposed to be going down for the next 8 hours in complete silence until you had to stop because the sun had started to set. You set up camp in a part of the forest you had come across with a large amount of trees that surrounded a small clearing.

You hopped off of your horse and tied her reigns to a nearby stable tree branch, petting her head before you went to unpack your sleeping bag, your silent way of telling her to lay down. You then got your sleeping bag out and set it down on the ground and took out a large blanket you had brought for your horse, gently unfolding it and setting it down on top of her now that it was getting colder outside.

Bucky watched in complete awe as you did all of this, you looked so gorgeous in the orange light that filled the forest as the sun set. He couldn’t bear to look away from you and he wished that he hadn’t been such an asshole to you from the start. Maybe then he’d have a chance with you.

You turned to face Bucky after you finished setting up your side of the camp, you had felt him looking at you the entire time you were setting your things up. “What?” you asked while you softly shook your head side to side and looked directly into his eyes.

His eyes widened at that and he shook his own head, to bring himself out of spacing out while he stared at you in his case, “Nothing, doll. Don’t worry about it.” he answered, sending a feeling of shock through your system while he crouched down to start the fire in the middle of your camp with some nearby branches.

That was the first time he had actually spoken to you without being mean in some way. Maybe this mission would bring out Bucky’s kinder side? At least that’s what you hoped, all you wanted was to see the side of him that he didn’t let anyone see and have him let you love him.

Sure, he was an asshole anytime he spoke to you. But some part of you just hoped that he loved you too and was just being an asshole because he doesn’t know what to do about these kinds of feelings, as stupid as that may sound. After all, you know it’s been a very long time since he’s had a lover, same as you.

And once Bucky had finished getting his side of the camp as well as the fire set up just ten minutes later, you sat down on your sleeping bag and crossed your legs.

You then reached back into your bag and pulled out two of the sandwiches you had packed for the mission. You threw one to Bucky and it landed in his lap, making him smile and softly chuckle for just a second. But you saw every reaction he’d just had, which caused your cheeks to heat up.

You let out a sigh as you took the first bite of your sandwich. If you and Bucky were going to be alone together for a while, you thought that now would be a good time to tell him more about yourself. Specifically your past, the reason for your solitude that he felt the need to make fun of.

“Y’know there’s a lot you don’t know about me, Bucky.” you said, starting off this sort of conversation in a relaxed manner. You hoped that he would listen to what you had to say.

He looked up at you from his own sandwich and smirked at you, “Oh, yeah? What don’t I know about you?” he asked as he looked into your eyes, showing you that he was listening to you and prompting you to continue on with what you were going to say.

You took one deep breath before you started your story, “There’s a reason why I live alone and I don’t interact with other people in the community as much as everyone else does. I was 10 when the outbreak hit and I was made an orphan right away because my parents had been infected. So, in all of the chaos I was forced to survive alone and figure everything out on my own. I haven’t lived so close to other people without worrying that I was in danger since I was 10 and I only moved to Jackson last year, so I’m still getting used to living so close to it all again. We’re all going through different things and I understand that what you are going through may be the reason you are taking your anger out on me.” you explained to him, your story causing tears to prick at Bucky’s eyes but he wiped them away before they even had the chance to fall.

You had been through so much and even though he was mean to you, you were never once mean to him. You always treated him well, even when he didn’t deserve it. You had been on your own for 22 years and you still didn’t let that destroy your kindness or the goodness of your heart.

“Oh god, (y/n), I had no idea. I’m so sorry, for every mean thing I’ve said to you. I’ve been such an asshole to you and you don’t deserve that at all.” he made known to you, his apology that you had been waiting months to hear making you softly smile as you continued to eat your sandwich.

“Thank you and I accept your apology, Bucky.” you told him after you swallowed the bite you had just taken, that soft smile still on your face making you look extremely beautiful to Bucky.

He was in shock, “You forgive me? You should be furious with me.” he said, you pointed your face down towards your lap and softly chuckled at that.

You looked back up at him, complete honesty in your eyes, “Yes I do because life is too short to hold grudges against people, especially in the world we live in now. Plus, I don’t think I could ever bring myself to be genuinely mad at the man I’m in love with.” you said, a gasp quickly escaping your mouth after that last sentence, Bucky was in shock too. You hadn’t planned to admit your feelings for him as impulsively as you just did.

But the very second that this shock wore off, Bucky was on his feet and quickly making his way over to you. He fell onto his knees in front of you and lovingly took your face in his large, warm hands. You placed your hands over his, showing him that you were okay with his touch. There were tears in his eyes once again and this time he let them fall.

“God, I love you so fucking much. I’ve been such an idiot.” he shakily told you through his tears while your face remained in his hands, laughing a little at himself while he briefly looked away from you.

You inched yourself a little closer to him and looked up into Bucky’s eyes once more, a look of love only for him in your eyes.

“Me too.” you replied with a nod of your head, laughing with him, “I love you too, Bucky.” you made known to him, prompting Bucky to crouch down more so that he could press his forehead against yours and just feel you. He wanted to feel that you were real, that you were actually here and that you loved him back.

He pulled away from your forehead a few minutes later and looked down into your eyes again, “Can I kiss you, doll?” he asked, a tone of desperation in his voice as he continued to gaze into your eyes like you had hung the stars and moon in the sky just for him.

You nodded right away as tears started to form in your own eyes, not having the strength to verbally tell him yes because you were overwhelmed with everything you felt for Bucky. And with that, he pressed his lips to yours and passionately kissed you. You began to stand up on your knees while you kissed him back, loosely wrapping your arms around your neck and pulling him even closer to you, letting yourself indulge in the handsome man.

“I love you so, so much.” Bucky muttered against your lips in between kisses, causing a new feeling to bloom in your chest. Happiness.

You now had each other and everything felt truly perfect for once. The two of you clicked together like two pieces of a puzzle and you hoped that you would stay that way, in love and connected — the way you were always meant to be — forever. You had finally gotten through the worst of what was the labyrinth of falling in love with someone.

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athforskz · 2 months

Text

Locked In - Yang Jeongin

Masterlist

Pairing: Jeongin x reader (afab)

Non-idol au

wc: ~7.7k

semi-proofread

Warnings: fluff, angst, pet names (babe/baby, princess), smut, jealousy, alcohol/drinking, dub-con if you squint, dry humping, fingering, oral (m- receiving), stealthing, unprotected piv, Yandere!Jeongin, breeding, baby trapping, dacryphilia, choking, spit, anal thumbing.

I think that’s it, let me know if I missed any!

Read responsibly. You are responsible for the content you consume.

Enjoy lovelies!

It was already Friday again. Meaning yet another week in your not so exciting life had flown by. You had no plans for the weekend and no friends that were free to spend it with. You, in fact, were the last of your friends that was still single. Everyone else had either married off or were currently in a serious relationship. You couldn’t help but feel the existential dread that encompassed your mind.

What if I’m alone forever?

Yeah, sure you’re still young in the grand scheme of things, but you couldn’t shake the doubt that maybe something was wrong. Wrong with you. Your body shook at the thought.

Deciding to do push the mess of thoughts to the back of your mind, you fished around for your phone in the nest of blankets you had curled yourself in on your bed. Your fingers quickly tap through your home screen until finding the app you were looking for. Tinder.

“Am I really doing this…?” You muttered to yourself. Contemplating once again about your life decisions. All you wanted was someone to call your own. A person to spend quality time with. Possibly settle down and start a life filled with contentment and love. Was that too much to ask?

Against your better judgement you opened the app and set up your profile. You chose the best pictures of yourself to display. Also making sure to write in your bio what you were seeking in a partner, that you were serious about your expectations. You may have been desperate but not desperate enough to lower the bar. At least not yet.

Within a few hours of swiping mindlessly, you got a couple dozen matches. Most of them are not what you’re looking for. But there was one that stood out. His name was Jeongin. He could hold a conversation, even making you laugh a few times. Before you knew it hours had passed of you both talking back and forth on the dating app. He ended up asking for your number claiming he doesn’t get on Tinder much anymore but wanted to keep the conversation going with you. Things were going so well that you thought nothing of it and immediately sent him your contact information. A couple minutes later your phone dinged with a message notification that you could safely assume was your new interest.

Unknown: Hey, y/n! It’s Jeongin :)

You: Do I know you?

You teased him as you saved his contact to your phone.

Jeongin: I’m so sorry! Wrong number!

You: Just kidding lol it’s me, y/n!

Jeongin: You almost sent me into a panic you little minx

The little pet name had you turned onto your front with your legs propped up behind you and kicking freely. You two texted for a little while longer before calling it a night.

Little did you know, Jeongin stayed up half the night doing research on you. Digging up whatever he could find about your past and your present. He had never known someone so beautiful, so perfect. So you. He couldn’t help the burning obsession he was growing towards you. It was like a thirst that could not be quenched. He needed you. All of you. Jeongin had never felt this way about anybody before and he wasn’t about to let it go. Was this what euphoria felt like?

The next morning you had awoken to a bird pecking at your window. The tap-tap-tap sounds reverberate throughout your room. You got up from your bed stretching with a yawn before opening your curtains to find the little tweeting perpetrator. It flew off quickly upon it being caught, leaving you to stare at the newly arisen sun. Just then, your phone vibrated on the nightstand. Hm, 7:03am the clock read. You swiftly unlocked your phone and unplugged it from the charger to read the new message from Jeongin.

Jeongin: Good morning! Hope you slept well

You: Morning, Jeongin! I did actually. Did you get some good rest too?

Jeongin: You could say that. Hey, I uh.. I wanted to ask you something.

You: What’s up?

Jeongin: Do you want to go get coffee together? Like today? I know it’s short notice so if you can’t that’s totally fine!

You: I’d love to go with you :)

Jeongin’s heart flipped in his chest with a widening smile across his face. He can’t believe you agreed to go with him. Now was his time to shine! He had to look his best for you which would be easier said than done because he in fact did not get any sleep. How could he when all that was on his mind was you?

The both of you agreed to meet at a local cafe called LaVazza in an hour. At first, you weren’t expecting to be doing anything with your Saturday besides maybe catching up on some research for your job. However, that could wait until later. You had a date with a cute guy after all.

Wait… a date? Can I even call it that? Is that what this is?

Numerous thoughts began to fill your head as you got ready. Should you dress up or look casual? Go all out with your makeup? Should you put your hair up or leave it down? A cold splash of water would help you think more clearly. Finally, you decided on an off the shoulder cashmere sweater, leggings, and black booties with light makeup to complete the look. You brushed your hair choosing to leave it down since your shoulders were exposed. You did one last mirror check before grabbing the essentials and making your way out of the apartment.

The cafe wasn’t too far from your place so walking was your choice of transportation. Nothing like a brisk walk on a cool Saturday morning to calm your nerves.

Upon reaching LaVazza, the fresh smell of coffee hit your nose. You breathed in deeply while looking around for Jeongin. No sign of him yet. You had gotten there a few minutes early after all. Surely he’d be here in a bit. You walked over to a booth seated in the corner next to the window while you waited; checking your phone every so often to see if you had gotten any messages. Nothing.

At some point you had zoned out while looking over the menu to decide what to order. You snapped back to reality once you felt a presence looming next to you.

“This seat taken?” A warm voice asked.

You looked up to meet none other than Jeongin’s gaze. Your mouth slightly agape as you took in the sight of him. Of course you had seen his photos on tinder yesterday but he was down right handsome in the flesh. He took his seat in the booth directly across from you, folding his hands neatly in front of him on the table. He cleared his throat which brought you out of a daze. “I-I’m sorry. Um hi! It’s nice to finally meet you.” You blinked and extended your hand across the table while mentally scolding yourself for staring so shamelessly. He chuckled while taking your hand and bringing it up to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. Your face flushed in a deep blush. You had been going for a simple handshake but you weren’t going to complain about his greeting. Not when his lips felt so soft on your skin and his voice was like velvet. “Nice to meet you too,” he finally replied.

It seemed like Jeongin was playing it cool, but on the inside he was on fire. He felt his world stop when he first laid eyes on you sitting in the booth. He can’t believe just how gorgeous you are up close. Once you caught sight of him he saw your reaction, making a mental note of it for later.

“Did you order anything yet?” He asked you with a rise at the end of his voice. You shook your head in response looking down at the menu on the table. “I’m stuck between a lavender chai or the classic espresso. Maybe a chocolate croissant too. What are you getting?” You quipped. He pretended to think for a minute. “I always get the americano. It’s my go to.” Jeongin smiled at you. His smile was so bright, so cute, so entrancing. You couldn’t help but smile back, he was infectious.

After finalizing your decision on the lavender chai, you and Jeongin made your way over to the counter to order. You began reaching into your purse to pull out your card before Jeongin playfully scoffed. “Hey, I got it. Put that away.” You were confused at first, “I can at least pay for my own. You don’t have t-“ he interrupted. “Nuh uh, don’t worry about it. Why don’t you go sit down and I’ll bring our order over once it’s ready.” He said calmly before handing the barista his card. “But I insist!” You blurted out. He raised an eyebrow at you in amusement. Before you could embarrass yourself any further you walked back over to the corner booth, waiting patiently for Jeongin to return.

During your wait, you came to the final realization that yes, this was definitely a date.

Once the order arrived you two had begun opening up to each other. Telling each other about yourselves. Your upbringing, your jobs, friends, hobbies. Pretty much anything. The conversation was flowing nicely. Little did you know Jeongin had already known so much about you. He knew exactly what to say to keep you interested in him. To keep you engaged to him and only him.

Before either of you realized, two hours had passed by. The both of you reluctantly opted to call it a day. You had research to catch up on and Jeongin had errands to run.

“I’ll walk you to your car,” he said while holding the cafe door open for you.

“Oh, no need. I actually walked here. My place isn’t too far.”

“What? No way, I walked too! I can walk you home at least.” He offered. Jeongin lied. His car was parked around the corner but he would rather walk with you to spend more time with you. You hesitated for a bit, mulling it over. You just met this man today. Even though you both talked for hours he was still a stranger to you. Should you really let him know where you live? In conclusion, you did it anyway.

“Sure, why not?” You shrugged then proceeded to lead the way. He followed slightly behind you, acting as if he didn’t already know where you lived.

About halfway through the walk, Jeongin felt bold enough to touch your hand, wrapping his pinky finger around yours. You didn’t mind it, you thought it was sweet as he smiled down at you, listening to you speak about some story that happened at a recent friend’s get-together.

Another few minutes went by and y’all had reached the front door to your apartment. You turned on your heels to face Jeongin.

“Thank you for this morning. I had a lot of fun, Jeongin,” you admitted.

“I did too. Thanks for agreeing to meet me,” he replied. His eyes fluttered looking at your features, from your lips to your eyes.

Suddenly you felt warm, a blush creeping up from your neck to your cheeks. Was he going to-?

“Howdy, neighbor!” Your next door neighbor beamed happily as they slammed their door shut and locked it. You let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding as you turned to wave at your neighbor. Jeongin cursed under his breath, becoming irrationally angry at your neighbor for the split second you weren’t paying attention to him. In the blink of an eye he was back to his calm and cheery self once you turned back to him.

“Let me know when you get home okay?” You requested of him before leaning up on your tippy toes and landing a peck on his cheek. All he could do was nod, his skin igniting at the touch of your lips. You unlocked your door bidding him a final goodbye as he walked off. He still felt the lingering connection of your lips on his cheek. Now he was locked in for sure. And unknowingly, that meant you were locked in too.

A few more weeks passed and the bond between Jeongin and you became stronger. He had invited you out on several more dates during that time. Some of them being more casual and others being romantic. You honestly couldn’t be happier. Nothing between you two was made mutually exclusive yet (or so you thought), but it was certainly heading that way.

Currently, you were on a FaceTime call with Jeongin while you were doing chores around your apartment. You had your phone propped up on the coffee table, facing away from it as you fluffed the pillows on the couch during your rambling about what happened at work the other day. Jeongin was barely listening. All he could focus on was the way your Nike pro shorts hugged the fat of your thighs along with the swell of your ass cheeks peeking through perfectly. Any time you’d bend over he’d take a screenshot without you ever noticing.

Thank goodness you could only see his face because he currently had his hand in his sweats to lazily palm his twitching cock. Every now and then he would let out a heavy sigh, but you chalked it up to him just being tired. “Innie, I can let you off if you want to go to sleep. I have to start getting ready anyway,” you had recently took to calling him by the nickname. Just then, his head shot up from the relaxed position it was in, hand retracing from his pants. “Get ready? Ready for what?” He completely ignored your comment about his tiredness. Jeongin was more concerned about your future whereabouts. He had become very good at keeping tabs on you whether you knew about it or not. But this time he had no indication that you planned on going somewhere. Somewhere without him.

“My friend invited me to a party tonight!” Party? You don’t party. Jeongin knows you don’t.

“I normally don’t like going to such things, but I haven’t hung out with my friends in a while, so why not, ya know?” You continued. His face dropped.

Why does she feel the need to go somewhere without me? He thought to himself.

His next words threw you for a loop, “Can I come?”

You were taken aback, “But you don’t know anyone that’ll be there.”

“I know you...” He raised an eyebrow waiting for your response. You seemed to be lost in thought. Is this a good idea, introducing him to your friends so soon? And without an official label no less.

“I don’t know, Innie. My friends will get the wrong idea about us and I don’t-“

“Wrong idea?” He interrupted.

“Like they’ll think we’re together.” You announced. You swear you saw his eye twitch.

“But we are together. At least I thought we were,” he retorted.

Now it was your turn to raise a brow. “We are? Since when?”

“Since we started going on a bunch of dates and hanging out. Not to mention all of the kissing. C’mon sweetheart, did you really think I was just playing around with you?”

He was right, you two had been spending a lot of time together. You’d see him at least every other day and talk to him on the phone on the days that you weren’t with him. Things had become a lot more serious between the both of you including the ever fervent makeout sessions. Neither of you had gone farther than kissing and lingering touches with each other, but the thought of going to the next level with Jeongin made your eyes glaze over. “Well..?” He chuckled waiting for your answer. You shook your head letting out a light laugh in the process as a blush covered your cheeks. “Okay, fine you can come with me since apparently you’re my boyfriend now.”

Boyfriend

Boyfriend.

The word leaving from your mouth to label him as such a thing sounded so sweet. But he wanted to be more to you. For you. He wanted to be all you ever needed. Wanted you to rely on him for absolutely everything. You didn’t need anyone else. All he wanted you to need was him.

A sly smile played on his lips as he at least took this as a good start. Perfect.

Well into the night you found yourself enthralled with the party, having a good time with everyone. You were glad to have agreed to come out and bring Jeongin with you. Your friends however, were not thrilled with your new boyfriend. You had introduced them to him earlier in the night but your friends could tell that something was off with him. You didn’t notice their uneasiness towards Jeongin at first, as you were busy throwing back shots and dancing. Normally, you didn’t drink but when you were out you drank heavily. A social drinker at its finest. Jeongin made sure to keep a close eye on you which wasn’t hard because when you weren’t drinking you were dancing with him. Grinding your ass into his pelvis as he kept a hand on your hips encouraging your movements. To you, it looked like he was enjoying himself. Nursing a red solo cup in his free hand with God knows what kind of alcohol in it. However, Jeongin was sure not to get too drunk so he could keep others away from you. He wanted all of your attention focused solely on him so your eyes wouldn’t wander. If he caught another guy looking at you he’d be sure to press a hot, lingering kiss to your neck as if to claim you for all to see. Right when you began leaning back into Jeongin’s chest one of your friends approached you.

“Y/n, can we talk for a sec?” She asked with a lilt to her voice. You gave her a silent nod before she started to pull you away from him by your wrist. Jeongin started to follow you to which your friend spoke up, “it’s girl talk only, you wouldn’t understand.” She gave him a sheepish smile then proceeded to lead you away, leaving him on the dance floor sipping his drink.

He didn’t like this. Not one bit. He doesn’t want anyone, not even your closest friends, taking you away from him. But, nonetheless, he allowed your friend to speak with you in private so he didn’t cause a scene. His eyes narrowed as he watched your form through the crowd of people making a mental note of where you were going just in case he needed to come get you.

Your friend pushed past a throng of people before slipping into a quiet room with you in tow. She closed the door prior to speaking.

“What are you doing?” She asked, turning slowly to meet your eyes.

“Um, having fun? Duh!” You couldn’t take her question seriously as you giggled.

“No, no not that! I mean like what are you doing with him?”

“You mean, Innie? I thought it’d be alright if he came with me. Was there like a super limited guest list I wasn’t informed about?” Your eyes widened at the realization.

Your friend rolled her eyes at you, “God, you really are drunk. There was not a guest list. I just want to know what in the hell you see in that man?”

“What are you talking about? Jeongin makes me happy and I-“

“He’s weird! I mean have you not seen the way he’s hoarding you to himself and giving death glares at anybody that even looks your direction?! That’s straight up toxic behavior!” She cut you off as her voice raised an octave. She wasn’t yelling but you still didn’t appreciate her tone.

“So everyone else gets to be happy with someone, but as soon as I get a boyfriend there’s a fucking problem? And you’re calling him toxic just because he’s a little protective? Do you even hear yourself right now?!” The alcohol was rushing in your veins making you a little bit more bold.

“Hey, you know that’s not what I meant. Just-“

“Save it!” It was your turn to interrupt her. You put your hand up in front of your face before shoulder checking her on the way out of the room.

You looked among the crowd to find Jeongin had moved to the back wall. You made your way over to him and he looked surprised, probably not expecting you to be back so soon.

“We should leave.” You said dryly while looking down at the floor, your arms crossed over your chest. Jeongin simply nodded and with that you both made your way out of the party.

Once in the car you sighed, the alcohol still buzzing through your body.

“You okay, baby? What happened in there?” He asked clearly concerned. He knew he shouldn’t have let you go off alone with her.

“Don’t worry about it, I.N. I’d rather not talk about it right now.” You trailed off while staring out the window. As much as he wanted to press you for answers, he didn’t pry any farther. He let you have your space for the time being. Jeongin only had one drink so he was fine to drive.

The way back was mostly silent besides the low hum of the radio in the background. Jeongin would occasionally rub or squeeze your thigh for reassurance which you appreciated. You just simply couldn’t get over the argument you had with your friend.

Is she crazy? Jealous?

There’s no way she could be. She was your best friend who got everything she wanted and she never had acted this way before.

But what about Jeongin made her so uneasy? What couldn’t you see?

You looked over at the man in the driver's seat, admiring his profile and the way he drove one-handed. He felt you staring at him so he turned his head to meet your gaze. He flashed a toothy smile which made you smile in return.

Soon he parked out front of your apartment, getting out of the car to come over to open your door for you. You gave him a small thanks before walking to your front door, him tailing behind you.

Once inside you kicked off your heels, sighing at the relief of your feet being flat on the floor. Jeongin closed and locked the door behind himself the proceeded to shuck off his jacket and step out of his shoes. He had been inside your apartment a handful of times now and became accustomed to it. Everything from the decorations to the furniture to the smell was so you. It was like being in heaven for him. He lifted his head to a familiar cork sound popping open followed by the clinking of glasses. You were in the kitchen, pouring wine for the both of you.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” He leaned over the island watching you pour.

“Just because we left the party doesn’t mean I want to lose my buzz.”

“I think you’re more than buzzed, babe.” He laughed as you waved him off. You handed him his glass then walked over to the living room, plopping down on the couch, Jeongin joining you. You kicked your legs over onto his lap as your dress rode up your thighs. He tucked your legs tightly into him as he drew random shapes with his fingertips just above your knees. You turned on your TV and flicked through various channels before finally settling on a random rom-com movie. Both of you offering commentary or laughing when appropriate.

You hadn’t noticed how much the wine had affected you until a rather spicy scene played during the movie. Getting an idea, you set the empty glass on the table before maneuvering to straddle Jeongin’s lap. You giggled while leaning in and trailing kisses down his sharp jawline.

“What are you planning, Princess?” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Shhh just relax,” you encouraged. With that he leaned his head back on the couch allowing you more access to his neck and jaw.

Jeongin absolutely loved the attention you gave him. Basking in it like his own reward for finding you.

You started to suck on the skin between his neck and shoulder, hoping to leave a mark. His hands wandered to your waist bringing you impossibly closer in his embrace. Jeongin groaned when you licked up from his throat to his lips and captured them in a kiss.

The kissing started off slow, innocent even before turning into a full on session of tongues and teeth. You bit his bottom lip gently pulling it to further tease him. His hands moved from their previous place on your waist down to the back of your thighs where the hem of your dress was caught. He pulled the dress further up until it was just under your abdomen leaving your black lace panties exposed. Jeongin then gripped your ass firmly, squeezing the flesh tightly in his hands. You disconnected from your heated makeout to let out a moan and grind your hips down on his growing bulge.

Jeongin hissed at the movement, but welcomed it nonetheless before catching your lips again and droving his tongue straight into your mouth to lick and suck at your own. Breathy moans continuously escaped your throat as you kept riding Jeongin over his pants. Your slick pooling through your panties and making a wet spot over the crotch of his jeans.

This was all so surreal. This was the first time either of you have taken it this far and it was definitely a welcome change to the typical makeout sessions you both shared. It made you want more of him. All of him.

Suddenly, you pulled away from the kiss and stopped your grinding to get off his lap. Jeongin looked breathless, dazed in the heat of the moment. His lips were swollen from all the kissing. You backed away making a ‘come here’ motion with your finger before turning and heading to your room. He grinned like the Cheshire cat and jumped up from the couch to follow you.

Even though, Jeongin had come over plenty of times by now this was his first time actually stepping foot into your room. Normally he’d look around to take in the sight of everything, but that was the last thing on his mind. There he saw you sitting on the edge of your bed with your legs crossed and that dreamy look in your eyes.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous..” he said barely above a whisper as he made his way over to you. He wasted no time in locking your lips again while pushing you to lay back on the bed. He pulled your left thigh to spread your legs and make room for himself to lay between them. Jeongin rolled his hips to press his clothed cock over your aching center, swallowing the moan you let out in the process. He didn’t want to get too carried away, but God did he want you. All of you.

Against his better judgment he let his body lead. Jeongin’s hands trailing up your sides and over your chest to palm your breasts over your dress. You arched your back slightly loving the feeling. He could feel your nipples harden through the fabric due to the absence of a bra. You secretly thanked the heavens that you didn’t need to wear one with this particular dress.

Not being able to take it anymore, Jeongin ripped the dress off of your form and threw it somewhere in the room to be forgotten. He immediately latched his mouth onto your left nipple while rolling and pinching the right between his fingers before switching sides.

“M-more, Innie, please.” You squeaked through your euphoric haze.

“Hm? Is my baby turning insatiable for me?” Jeongin teased while looking up at you. All you could do was whine and nod your head. You were desperate to feel his touch everywhere.

He leaned up again, getting close to your face as you felt one of his hands slither its way into your panties.

“Are you gonna be good for me, hm?” He asked then pressed an open mouth kiss to your lips.

“Uh huh, promise to be good.”

With your confirmation he spread your wet folds with his ring and pointer fingers while using his middle finger to glide from your clit down to your entrance. Jeongin just barely pushed into your pussy up to his first knuckle before pulling out again. Leaving you to clench around nothing. A pathetic whimper from you gracing his ears. He hushed you with another kiss before rubbing your clit in different ways, trying to find what you liked the most. You can’t lie, all of it felt good, but once he started circling your nub you let out a higher pitched moan than the rest.

“Oh yeah, like that? That’s a good girl letting me know just how to please you.” He cooed, continuing his circling movements on your clit for a bit longer then switched from his middle finger to his thumb so he could freely plunge two fingers inside of you. He pumped them slowly at first letting you get used to his slender digits before becoming a little rougher. Your body reacted to every little move he was doing to you, sending you into overdrive. It just felt so good to have him please you like his life depended on it. You could cum just from this, but he wasn’t done yet. Far from it. He pushed a third finger into you, pressing each one deeper than before and curving them upwards to reach that spongey spot within your core. The rings at the base of two of his fingers adding to the pleasure. The room was filled with the most disgustingly wet shlucking sounds from your pussy and your greedy moans. Your walls began to flutter around his fingers and a band felt like it was going to snap in your abdomen signaling that you were close.

“F-fuck, gonna cum…!” You squealed while your back arched higher off the bed. Jeongin placed his had that was still kneading your breast onto your neck and squeezed on either side.

“C’mon gimme that orgasm, baby,” The delicious pressure of him choking you sent you over the edge. Your eyes rolled back into your head as your body writhed from the force of your first release of the night.

“Mm so pretty when you cum for me,”he praised. You panted heavily, while Jeongin pulled his fingers from you and watched as your juices dripped from his digits down to his wrist. He brought his fingers to his mouth sucking them clean, moaning at the sweet taste of you. Now that he’s had a taste of you there was no going back.

After a few moments you had gotten your breathing mostly under control. Jeongin was still busy licking your cum from his fingers before you had roughly pushed him down onto the bed, straddling him once again.

“Wanna make you feel good too, Innie.” You whispered trailing kisses down his neck to his collarbone. His breathing hitched in his throat when you bit down on the flesh there. He looked down at you as you raised his shirt over his head. You admired his body while running a hand over his abs. He was so toned, you had no idea. You continued kissing down his chest and abs while your hands worked at undoing his jeans. You dipped your tongue into his belly button which sent a chill down his spine. Once, you finally got the zipper down you tugged off his pants and boxers in one go. His hard cock springing free and slapping against his stomach.

It looked heavy. Innie was well above average with equal parts length and girth. It even had a slight curve to the left. The tip of his cock was the same color as his lips and profusely leaking pre-cum. His dick was slightly darker than his skin tone around the base. Even his pubic hair was trimmed showing off his pretty smooth balls. You couldn’t help but marvel at the site of all of him exposed in front you.

“Like what you see?” He smirked with his hands behind his head. He knew damn well that he was good looking. This man was the definition of perfection.

“I more than like what I see,” you winked at him. His cock twitched at the thought of what that might mean.

You took Jeongin’s hard dick into your hand, swiping your thumb over his slit to collect the precum that beaded there. He sucked in a harsh breath at your movements watching you with eyes blown wide. You proceeded to spit on the tip letting it drip down the sides while stroking his shaft to make his cock slick. Brushing your hair out of your face, you leaned down pressing kisses all along the sides of it then licked from base to tip, following the vein on the underside of his dick. He reached a hand down to thread through your hair gently while you slowly took him into your mouth. You focused on licking and sucking the tip first, your tongue swirling around it as you hollowed your cheeks. You began bobbing your head back and forth making the grip he had in your hair tighten slightly. He was letting out deep groans that spurred you on, his symphony of noises being your encouragement. Soon, you added your hand back onto his shaft pumping whatever part of his dick you couldn’t fit in your mouth yet.

“Oh s-shit that feels good, princess.” He stammered. You looked up at him through your eyelashes to see his eyes squeezed shut, adam’s apple bobbing as he breathed heavily. You took that as an opportunity to push his cock deeper into your mouth, pushing him down your throat as you gagged helplessly around him. Tears welling up at your lash line as you closed your eyes for a second to focus on breathing through your nose before opening them again. Jeongin propped himself up on his elbow to watch you take him all the way in your mouth as his jaw went slack.

“Are you crying, baby? Fuck that’s so hot, crying while you’re choking on my cock like that.” He bit his bottom lip. You swear you could feel his cock twitch in your throat once he saw tears cascading down your cheeks.

He gathered your hair in a makeshift ponytail to keep you still before he started thrusting, face-fucking you. He thought the noises of you gagging and choking were so pretty, it only egged him on. You kept eye contact with him as he ravaged your throat mercilessly. Feeling drool dribbling from the corners of your mouth. More tears rolled down from your eyes. You moaned around his cock and the vibrations from that were all he needed to bust. He threw his head back with a long moan leaving his lips. Copious amounts of cum sliding easily down your throat. You swallowed all of it, not wanting to waste a single drop. You pulled your mouth off of his cock with an audible pop. Strings of saliva still connecting your mouth to his tip. He swiped his thumb across your bottom lip collecting some of the drool before bringing it up to his own mouth licking it off.

You don’t know why, but you blushed at the gesture. Of all the things you’ve done so far, this is when you decide to get shy?

Before you could get too lost in thought, Jeongin stood up from the bed and gently pushed up down on it. You landed with a slight bounce watching as the man approached you, still hard dick in hand.

“Turn over baby, I want that ass up for me.” He stated with a demanding tone in his voice. His eyes were dark with nothing but lust. You scrambled to fully kick off your soaked panties before switching to your front and propping yourself up on all fours. The bed dipped behind you as he kneeled into position. Your brain might have been buzzing from the heat of the moment and the alcohol from earlier but you still remembered to be safe.

“Umm, Innie. Can you put on a condom please?” You breathed out shyly.

“I don’t have one sweetheart… I’m sorry. I promise I’m clean.” He wouldn’t wear one anyway. Not with you, not when you were going to be his for the rest of your lives anyway.

“I’m clean too, but I’m not on birth control.”

Perfect. He thought to himself. Easier to trap you.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll pull out.” He lied, no he wouldn’t.

“Wait, I think I have one.” You leaned down over the side of your bed and pulled out a box that was tucked away. You opened the box and pulled out a condom, handing it back to your boyfriend. He took it from you with a tight-lipped smile. Jeongin waited for you to turn back around before pretending to open the condom. You got back into position and swayed your ass in front of him. God, you were going to be the death of him. After fumbling with the wrapper a couple more times to make it believable, he tossed the unused condom back behind your desk in the corner of your room. He made a mental note to go over to properly dispose of it later.

Jeongin grabbed his cock swiping the tip through your dripping wet slit a few times, teasing it at your entrance. He tapped his heavy cock over your pussy before lining up.

“You ready, Princess?” He asked, grabbing your hip with his free hand.

“Yes, Innie, please fuck me” You whined desperately.

Jeongin pressed his cock into your aching cunt only going in about halfway before stopping to let you adjust. He hissed through his teeth as your walls were clenching impossibly tight around him. You couldn’t help but let out a loud moan at the delicious stretch of his cock.

“Ah-hah, fuck baby you gotta relax a little bit, I don’t want to hurt you.” The hand that was on his cock reached in front of you to rub your clit in those slow circles he knew you liked.

“Nnng- so big…” you panted. He wasn’t even bottomed out in you yet and he could already tell your mind had gone euphoric.

After a couple more circles around your sensitive bundle of nerves your cunt relaxed a bit allowing him to move again. He slammed the rest of the way into your core figuring you had enough time to adjust. Your body jolted forward at the sudden intrusion, a scream threatening to rip from your throat. Jeongin granted you a few moments before he rolled his hips against your ass making his thick cock grind deeply into your warm pussy. You let out a string of angelic moans as he picked up the pace full on pumping his cock into you at this point. Your ass jiggled every time your bodies fully connected. The raunchy sounds of pure sex resounding off your walls.

“You like taking this cock don’t you, y/n?” He leaned down so he was whispering in your ear.

“Yes, fuck yes, love taking your cock!” You squeaked out as he landed a harsh smack on your ass. Jeongin pushed your front down to be flush with the pillows as he forcefully took both of your arms to pin your wrists behind your back making your arch deepen. The new position allowing him to fuck into your deeper, his cock repeatedly kissing your cervix. You bit down onto one of the pillows to try and somewhat quiet your moans so you wouldn’t get a noise complaint from your neighbors the next morning.

However, Jeongin had other ideas. He looked down to see where you two were connected. A creamy ring forming around the base of his cock from your cunt. His gaze then shifted to your other hole, it just begging for attention too. He gathered saliva in his mouth before spitting right on your puckered hole. This caused you to squeal in response. He let one of his hands go from your wrists as the other kept them in place on your lower back. His thumb rubbing in the makeshift lube before inserting it into your asshole. Jeongin felt your walls flutter around his cock as he pumped his thumb slowly.

“I know you like that, baby. Your body tells me. Fuck, such a dirty girl,” he sped up his thrusts to your pussy while hooking his thumb in place in your ass. You couldn’t deny it, you reveled in the feeling of Jeongin using both of your holes.

You let out a throaty moan as you felt that familiar feeling in your tummy building rapidly.

“J-Jeongin- cumming cumming!!” You screamed. One particularly harsh thrust had your legs shaking underneath you and your pussy clenching around his cock again.

“Mmf fuck yessss, cum for me,” the tightness enveloping his dick made his rhythm stutter spilling his hot seed deep into you.

If you hadn’t been so utterly fucked out you would have felt that his cum was filling you up.

Jeongin let go of your wrists completely and removed his thumb from your ass. Your legs finally giving out from under you making your body fall flat on the bed. Jeongin collapsed on top of you. Both of you trying hard to catch your breath. He moved before you did, removing his now softening cock from within you. His gaze stayed on your core for a bit to make sure you weren’t leaking any of his cum.

Hopefully this will take and she’ll get pregnant. He pondered.

After Jeongin was sure none was going to slip out he rubbed your back and shoulders.

“You did so well for me, y/n. Do you need anything, some water maybe?” He asked you in a warm voice. All you could do was nod.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” He kissed your shoulder before getting off the bed and looking for his black boxers to put back on then walked out to the kitchen. You made your way to curl up under your blankets as your body cooled down. The exhaustion of everything finally hitting you. Jeongin returned with a glass full of water encouraging you to drink the whole thing. When you finished he crawled into bed behind you and pulled you close. Your body fitting perfectly in his hold. Before you knew it you had fallen asleep.

“You’re going to be mine forever. I’ll make sure of it.” He whispered, careful not to wake you.

A few weeks later you were late. At first you didn’t worry about it thinking your cycle was only changing like it did every once in a while. But being more than 10 days late was abnormal for you.

There’s no way I’m pregnant.

You panicked immediately going to a pharmacy and buying a pregnancy test. Once you returned home you took it, anxiously waiting for the results. Five minutes had passed and you looked at the test. It was a strong positive. The test dropped from your hands and at your feet on the floor. But how? You and Jeongin have always been diligent about using protection (or so you thought). You had even been in the process of getting a prescription for birth control.

How am I going to tell Innie? What will he think?

You still felt too young to have kids. Maybe you would eventually, but definitely not now. You simply weren’t ready. Jeongin was going to come over later after he got off work, you’d tell him then.

About six hours later there was a knock at your door. You already knew it was your boyfriend, he always knocked a certain way. You opened the door to reveal the bright smile he wore. He held up a bag of food signaling he brought dinner. Jeongin gave you a chaste kiss then made his way inside setting the food on the table.

“Umm, Innie. I have something to tell you.” Your nerves were starting to get the better of you. What if he thought you had cheated on him?

“What’s up baby? You okay?” He caught on to your avoidance to look him in the eye causing his brows to furrow. You made your way into the bathroom where you kept the pregnancy test on the counter. You walked back out simply handing him the test without another word. Jeongin took the stick from your hand with a confused look on his face. He didn’t know what the hell he was looking at.

“It’s a pregnancy test…” you whispered. He looked at you in shock before looking back down at the test figuring out that it was positive.

“My baby is having my baby?!” He sounded.. happy?

“You aren’t mad?” Now it was your turn to be confused. Jeongin picked you up in a hug and spun you around then set you back down.

“No, of course not. I’m ecstatic!” He exclaimed.

There were so many questions you still had but for now you decided to enjoy the moment with Jeongin. If he was this excited about it then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Just a few months ago you were in a funk about not having someone special in your life, but now you couldn’t ask for anyone better to spend it with.

Jeongin had the most devilish smile on his face.

His plan worked perfectly. Now you’d really be his forever.

Do y'all think Innie would keep his socks on while fucking? It makes me laugh just thinking about it haha

Likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

Taglist: @doitforbangchan

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ataraxiaspainting · 3 months

Text

Chrollo Lucilfer Yandere Analysis.

Yan Chrollo x F Reader.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, not SFW (both non-con and dub-con), the reader is described as AFAB and uses she/her pronouns respectfully, forced tattooing, Chrollo having a god complex but that's nothing new lol, Stockholm Syndrome, stalking, parallels to religion (mainly Judeo-Christianity), implied body transformation (using Chrollo’s book), masturbation, manipulation, and violence/gore.

Word Count: 13k.

credits to @ddarker-dreams for the yandere MBTI and like everything she writes for this creepy greaseball (check her out if you haven’t already!!) <33333

another thanks to @depravitycentral for the inspiration! check them out too!!!! their general profile and nsfw profile for mr. chrollo specifically BUT everything they write is pretty good! <33333

one last thanks to @phasmophobia-territory for the ultimate yandere types list and @blughxreader for the yandere personality meme. both have inspired the unique qualities part of this analysis, so please be sure to check them out! <333

also, for quotes i tried to do something like genshin impact/honkai: star rail voicelines so i apologize if they aren’t good (ﾒ﹏ﾒ)

*~*~*~*

I look forward to living life with you from here on out. However, just know that there will be many different roads we will walk together on. Their lengths will depend on you, for better or for worse. As time goes on, however, I know that they will all end eventually.

→ Introduction.

The very definition of an empty shell, Chrollo has had his humanity stripped of him from a very young age. The only people who have ever made him feel something are all members of the Troupe or are buried underground, burning in hell or soaring above the clouds as angels, either one a much better existence than the life they all spent in Meteor City. So, when he sees you, someone who has been able to make him feel something without interacting with him at all, without the use of Nen, without even brushing your shoulder against him while running to your train in a hurry, he does not know what to do.

He feels like he is back to being a small child, roaming the streets and looking through dumpsters for anything of value trying to ignore the pain of the cuts and infections all over his body. You bring up a feeling he has not felt in years; fear. Despite this situation being far, far different from those times, his brain thinks otherwise. It sends him a fight or flight response every time he sees you, as much as he hides it, much like he hides himself among the crowds and crowds of people as he follows you home. You have resurrected a beast thought to be long dead, something innate, animal, almost carnal, without even lifting a finger.

Is this who he is, he wonders? He finally feels something, for once, a sense of belonging and identity and… humanity.

It fills him with a sense of euphoria, while you view it with dread every time his Zetsu slips for just a moment. You always look over your shoulder during those times and start walking faster, but definitely not enough to deter him, and it will never be enough.

→ Darling Character Analysis.

Creative.

Chrollo has a deep curiosity about the world and appreciates a darling who shares this thirst for knowledge and intellectual growth. The form of expression doesn't matter to him, whether it's through writing, music, or eloquent speech. What truly matters to Chrollo is that his darling can communicate uniquely and authentically.

In a concerning manner, Chrollo imitates his darling’s behaviors to an extreme degree, devouring everything they do with an insatiable appetite. It doesn't matter how his darling presents their interests to him, whether it's straightforward or not. For instance, if his darling mentions their love for playing the violin after spending days alone with only Chrollo for company, the next day a brand new violin will mysteriously appear on the table beside their side of the bed. Chrollo will secretly learn to play the violin himself, the one he purchased as well as the one he gifted to his darling, practicing when they are not paying attention or are fast asleep.

As a result, his darling may find themselves obligated to reciprocate this behavior by learning Chrollo's favorite musical pieces.

He will experience immense joy, perhaps so much that he will hold them down on the bed and shower their face with kisses while they squirm and kick. Even when they eventually stop, he will continue, disregarding their pleas for him to stop.

As always, his strength is overpowering, leaving you with no action to do other than to say no.

At least there is some form of care after it is all over and done with, although it always somehow involves blending with whatever activity preceded it. For instance, if it was playing the violin, he would play you with both your favorite pieces on the gramophone he put near the bathtub while giving you a massage and preparing a relaxing bath for both of you.

It is painful, more so than the usual ache between your legs, because he pays attention to your desires and exploits them, even when he appears to be gentle. The pain lingers, no matter how hard you try to disconnect from everything happening around you.

He gives you everything you want, and it hurts because you always know why.

Bold.

A darling who never hides their intentions and just goes for it would spark some sort of admiration in Chrollo, especially if they use their boldness on him as a manipulation tactic.

He finds it entertaining most of all, but also there is a small part of him that is grateful for it because it makes his darling seem more human to him and not just something to own.

Boldness is quite a human trait, one that he so adores, especially with those he holds close like fellow members of the Troupe. It is also quite a trait that can easily be manipulated.

If you attempt to flirt to lower his guard, he will flirt back twice as hard.

When everything is over and done with, he will admit he knows exactly what you are doing as he kisses you again, you not kissing him back this time, as good as your acting was, much to your horror.

Resourceful.

Chrollo sees himself above the rest of man, a God in his way, so a darling who is quite similar to him he would adore.

That is not to say he could not fall for someone the complete opposite of him, someone who is impulsive and wears their heart on their sleeve and everything else he does not and cannot do, but the probability is low compared to a darling that plans everything and keeps their cards close, much as he does.

That makes escape attempts though, quite common, considering how resourceful his darling can be, like using a file to saw the metal in one of his safes or the iron on their leg keeping them in his penthouse. But he loves it, it is one of his favorite things about them.

It is endless entertainment to him, a sort of fight against himself, albeit he is much, much stronger when it comes to wits most likely. You can think on your feet as much as you want, but so will he.

He will mirror their actions until the end.

Independent.

Much like his beloved's cleverness, he derives amusement from their self-reliance. He takes pleasure in dismantling their barriers bit by bit until they have no choice but to rely on him completely.

Indeed, Chrollo views his beloved as simultaneously superior and inferior to him.

There is no equality between them, only a shifting power dynamic that his beloved will soon discover. They will never be certain if his actions, like retrieving their favorite snack from the top shelf of the pantry, are expressions of love or gestures of mockery.

At times, it may be both. At times, it may be neither.

His thoughts remain inscrutable, and he revels in it.

Cunning.

Chrollo loves it when your eyebrows furrow, when you’re deep in focus, especially when you are trying to come up with an escape plan and not noticing him right behind you, because of that expression on your face.

It’s unholy, the way he worships you with sacrifices both living and not. He wants to ruin you, yet keep you as you are. So, after a long time of pondering, he concludes. He will remake your shape, not enough to completely alter it, but just enough for your walls to tumble down and let him in. That is why while he will let you try and try again to escape, he will still attempt to get into your head. He is like a poison, a parasite, imprisoning you in your fears, insecurities, and plans that are doomed to fail sooner or later. It is what he wants to be, but he also wants to be more.

More and more he will be, and more and more he will take from you. It is only natural to want more than what is given, correct?

It is how Chrollo and the other Troupe members survived so long in Meteor City. They take and take, not caring who they hurt because it is human instinct to want and seize. He will argue as such whenever you try to guilt him because you will soon know that he holds no shame in whatever he does. He is selfish, and he wants to stay that way. He wants you to do the same, so he loves it when you fight him or try to run away because he knows it is only nature. Nature will run its course regardless of who wants it to not. Nature does not care, so why should he? Why should you?

But he also wants you to not be as selfish as him, despite him knowing that it most likely will not be unless you are broken down enough. But that is fine, Chrollo tells himself because that time will eventually arise.

Mature.

Maturity is an elusive quality that characterizes Chrollo, yet eludes him as well. It ebbs and flows like a breeze, carrying seeds to unknown destinations, beyond the perception of onlookers. Unfortunately, you, the observer, are an unwilling participant in the multitude of games he plays and the various disguises he dons. Occasionally, Chrollo can act impulsively, adopting yet another facade acquired from others in the interludes of his life. However, there are moments when he patiently waits for the opportune time to strike, akin to a cunning serpent. But this outcome relies on your level of vigilance or innocence. Perhaps, one day, you'll find it best to surrender to his will. Chrollo eagerly anticipates that day.

Hardworking.

Chrollo feels a mix of jealousy and a desire for control when he sees someone truly dedicated to their pursuits. He wants to replicate their passion and adopt a similar persona. At the same time, he is intrigued by their determination and ambition, as he wants to understand every aspect of their character. This admiration creates a thrilling challenge for him, as he seeks to imitate their drive while also appreciating it. He wants to both admire and exploit this trait to engage in a game of cat and mouse until they submit. Perhaps it would be good to do just that, to prevent yourself from getting hurt again.

Observant.

Chrollo finds great pleasure in the thrill of the hunt, especially when his keen-eyed darling begins to notice subtle indications of being watched. These signs, carefully planted by Chrollo himself, make his darling increasingly cautious. For Chrollo, taking risks brings great rewards. Although these signs are intentional, they still hold, don't they? A lingering footstep behind them. A faint smile on a stranger's face, an unfamiliar figure lurking in an alley near his companion's residence. These signals confirm that they are being stalked, and Chrollo is entertained by the fact that their sharp instincts assure them that this is no mere coincidence or misunderstanding.

Logical.

Chrollo's beloved should possess some semblance of logic, even if it deviates from conventional understanding. The key lies in their thought process, rather than adherence to reason. This cognitive approach, be it driven by emotions or rationality, captivates Chrollo. They meticulously evaluate facts, evidence, and outcomes, exercising caution in moments of perceived advantage, as well as during bouts of insecurity and danger, where they must think quickly on their feet. This mental calculus can either serve them well or inadvertently lead to their downfall. They carefully weigh the pros and cons, thus fueling Chrollo's insatiable desire for the fun of the chase, which hinges upon ultimately catching his beloved in the act.

A Leader.

If you hold a position of leadership, whether at work or among friends, this situation will be even more perplexing and distressing for you. In an instant, you were no longer in charge, forcibly removed from your familiar surroundings and confined. Your authority, influence, and status, which held great significance, have been stripped away. You may experience a profound sense of helplessness and powerlessness as if all your hard work has been unjustly taken from you. Chrollo, as your captor, will seek to exert even more control over you if you possess the characteristic of leadership. He finds it ironic that you are now compelled to follow him, forever robbed of the opportunity to lead while you remain in captivity.

Confident Outside, Insecure Inside.

Chrollo takes great pleasure in this particular attribute, as a mere few words, be they soothing or otherwise, have the power to manipulate you effortlessly.

You find yourself compelled to dance and sing, controlled by invisible strings or some intangible force, as there seems to be no other recourse in this predicament. After enduring prolonged isolation, you will unquestioningly revere Chrollo's words, no matter how distorted they may be, treating them as a testament to be praised. And Chrollo eagerly anticipates the arrival of that day.

It instills fear in you, as both of you are aware that such a day will inevitably arrive.

With a few choice words, Chrollo can elicit tears or smiles from you, a feat that few others have managed to accomplish.

You despise it, while Chrollo utterly loves it. Intelligent.

Intelligence encompasses a wide range of abilities, making it possible for Chrollo to be drawn to various types. However, what truly captivates him is a darling who possesses either linguistic or interpersonal intelligence, or even better, both. He desires someone who can effortlessly decipher people's intentions, using words that ignite a fire within him, even if those words are aimed at him or others.

The type or types of intelligence his darling possesses greatly influences their relationship. How he presents himself in public, whether as a kind gentleman or someone who keeps his distance, depends on their emotional intelligence and intuition. Additionally, Chrollo finds it incredibly appealing when his darling shares a specific interest that is completely new to him. This not only allows him to learn something new but also adds another mask to his ever-expanding collection.

Someone who is emotionally intelligent, like his beloved, would pose a challenge for him to manipulate. They possess the ability to understand him better than most, making it all the more satisfying for Chrollo when they succumb to his desires. After all, as Chrollo often says, the greater the risk, the greater the reward.

→ Yandere MBTI: CAMS. (Cruel, Aware, Manipulative, Strict)

Chrollo possesses great skill in dismantling individuals but lacks the necessary expertise to reconstruct them according to his vision. Unfortunately, you have become an unwilling participant in his experiments. Share with him your deepest anguish and vulnerabilities. Chrollo also portrays himself as a universal remedy, claiming that he holds the power to alleviate all your suffering and resolve your troubles, provided you heed his advice.

However, he waits until he has captured you, and your defenses have crumbled. In that moment of vulnerability, when you are cut off from the world, consumed by sorrow, unable to eat or speak, he reveals himself as a deity. He extends his hand to you, leading you along a path he meticulously constructed. This path is filled with suffering, a never-ending cycle of waiting for both of you. But at the end of this dark tunnel lies Chrollo's ultimate desire: your affection.

What is your ultimate pain, what is your ultimate wish? I can provide anything and everything for you, beloved if you do not stray away from the light.

If you happen to encounter him in public before he abducts you, it is because he willingly allows you to do so, aiming to create a favorable impression that will prevent you from suspecting his true intentions. However, if you do find yourself growing suspicious, it is not without justification. Nevertheless, he will persist in attempting to dispel your doubts by showering you with more gifts and displaying gentlemanly behavior such as pulling out your chair and kissing your hand or inner wrist. Yet, everything appears excessively flawless, to the extent of inducing nausea. Everything is so… flawless all of the time, but only when you are around him and him alone. Ironically, despite Chrollo's desire to dissuade your wariness towards him, his tender and kind gestures only evoke fear.

Chrollo effortlessly switches between portraying himself as a divine figure and a malevolent force, adapting to the circumstances at hand. On one hand, he displays an uncanny perfection, never making a mistake and seemingly possessing an understanding of your thoughts and emotions even before you do. On the other hand, he reveals his true nature as pure evil by casually initiating a bet to see who can consume the most alcohol, leaving you as an unwilling participant in this game of his. As soon as you become intoxicated, he unveils himself as the embodiment of wickedness, groaning as your clothes rip off and you cry his mouth is on yours and he keeps murmuring things into your ear that are so much more terrifying than sweet and-

Panaceas are eternal, refusing to fade away, regardless of your preferences. And so is this situation with me, my dearest.

Chrollo often repeats the phrase that he would sacrifice his life for you. However, there is doubt as to whether he truly means it. His actions, whether they be subtle or overt, inflict daily harm upon you, both mentally and physically. He disguises his hurtful behavior as casual conversation, a serious one, and everything in between. Chrollo's self-centered nature raises the question of why he would make such a claim.

You remain unaware of his true intentions, as Chrollo holds the knowledge of what is genuine and what is fabricated close to his chest. He perpetuates this ambiguity, ensuring that you will never uncover the truth. Once again, Chrollo finds himself in a position of guilt, but the specific charges remain unknown. As an impartial judge, you can't discern between deceit and honesty when you have never been taught the difference. Chrollo, determined to maintain this state of uncertainty, ensures that the truth remains elusive, no matter what lengths he has to go to to make sure it stays that way.

Chrollo possesses the ability to assume various roles. He can portray himself as a reliable partner rather than a deceitful captor, a compassionate individual rather than a mass murderer, a savior rather than someone in need of rescue... The possibilities are endless. This charade is not merely a game to him, but a necessity to maintain his façade. Even if he desired to, he could never remove these disguises, as he is oblivious to his true identity, because who is he without his lies? Nothing? It is a sorrowful predicament for both me and him, you will think someday, one that may prompt you to ponder whether it is Stockholm Syndrome or your inherent empathy for others.

At some point, you will allow him to take what he desires, whether it be when he reaches a breaking point and loses control, or when you become desperate for any form of human interaction.

Whenever you are in need, call out my name. I will be there to provide whatever cure you desire for the ailment at hand.

→ Unique Qualities.

Yandere Type:

Possessive.

Chrollo in one word would be selfish, and he himself would not deny that it suits him quite well.

Whatever he touches turns to gold in the most metaphorical sense. Whenever he sees something he wants, he will take it. Everything Chrollo takes either has rhyme and reason to it or none at all. He turns them into gold as a sign of who owns them. Even if you have fallen or will eventually fall prey to this touch. The golden touch immobilizes you so you never ever leave him.

Like King Midas, he is selfish, and he takes pride in it. He is never humble in anything he does. That much is certain. He holds you in his arms at night like he knows your weight in gold, that he could never lose you as he lost himself all those years ago. His kisses are gentle when he wants them to be, or they can be as aggressive as he wants them to be. You’ll come to learn that it does not matter what you want, what matters is what Chrollo wants. Does not having a say in your hell hurt? Or does not having a choice help you justify to yourself that you must escape this?

Monitoring. (Watches From Afar / Direct Contact)

Really, it is Shalnark that does most of the work here, but it is still worth mentioning, especially since what Chrollo cannot get through traditional stalking alone, he asks a very teasing Shalnark to get for him. Though, if Shalnark fails, Feitan is put to the task, much to Feitan’s quite less than subtle annoyance, not that he would ever voice it. Through this trio, the work is separated into three strategies.

Chrollo’s way of finding information is as classic as it comes. Either he is observing you go about your usual day, to that coffee shop you visit before going to work, to the library you frequent on the weekends, to a park you like walking in to see the birds and to get a change of scenery while you read, or he is inside your home, looking through drawers, sampling some leftovers even from your fridge, and making a literal list of things to buy you either later or in the present moment and things to take with him when he inevitably steals you away. Shalnark’s way comes through the internet, through placing cameras in your home and showing Chrollo the footage day in and day out, and perhaps even making an online friend of you if you are that social with other people. To him, it’s all child’s play, especially with finding family members and friends of yours for later, to perhaps ask them questions under the guise of a fellow friend of yours even. But the information that neither Shalnark nor Chrollo can get from stalking alone relies on Feitan, which is where all the finding people you know and love trickle down and puddle at the bottom of this sort of vial of differing plans. This is a last resort, sort of, because there are better things that Feitan can be doing, really, but he is nothing less than loyal to Chrollo and the other Spiders, so he’ll find people who may know the answers his boss was looking for.

He does not blame Chrollo, because if the information was something even Shalnark could not find, it is something so secretive that it could metaphorically be so beneath the waves that it is on the bottom of the ocean floor.

Feitan takes on the role of the more experienced diver because he wants to make Chrollo happy.

Thankfully for most of those you know, only a maximum of perhaps five people are flicked off before you are brought to whatever penthouse Chrollo has bought for the next month or so. The rest can continue with their lives as it was, not that Feitan cares or Shalnark cares or Chrollo cares, except for poor, poor you.

Removing Nuisances. (Murder Likelihood: 8/10)

Similarly to gathering information about you, dealing with rivals follows a similar sort of hierarchy. Chrollo follows them, albeit with far less care and perhaps even stealing a few things along the way, if the rivals are rich enough, though that is quite rare to happen. Instead, he would try to threaten them through anonymous emails or letters, perhaps even with a photo of them sleeping thrown into the mix. But if that does not work, Shalnark is up next, digging up past searches and buyings that the rival perhaps regrets or wants to remain hidden. It could be anything, really, and soon this information will start to spread like a flame until the rival’s reputation is utterly ruined. If the rival is still stubborn about wanting to be romantically involved with you, Feitan is last, burying a corpse underground that looks far from the human it once was by the end of it all, and Feitan, unsurprisingly, likes this sort of business rather than simply lying in wait for a friend of yours to unfortunately cross his path.

Perhaps even Chrollo will join Feitan in this session or sessions. It sometimes happens, when Chrollo is too pent up or feeling especially angry, although he hides it well with a smile that is a bit too wide, at this rival in particular. By the end of it, when both he and Feitan look like they took a bath in blood with their clothes on, Chrollo laughs, and Feitan snickers. He feels good, both of them do. Maybe this is why Chrollo is so taken with you, Feitan wonders. The power and control that comes with you… it’s utterly addicting, isn’t it?

Adam and Eve. (Absolute Isolation) (Kidnapping Likelihood: 10/10)

Before he takes you away, Chrollo makes sure that whatever he cannot replace he takes with him. This includes memorabilia, photos, family heirlooms if you have any, and even annotated novels you have on your bookshelf with notes sticking out of them like sore thumbs. He manages to take it all away easily, just like he does with you. Chrollo, despite how selfish he is, still wants in some capacity to make you happy. In your “adapting stage”, you may be able to hide away from him in the bathroom and lock the door, but at least you will have the choice to continue whatever hobbies you had before that Chrollo allows you to do while you are self-isolating.

He sees this small reason for you not to hate him entirely as a win. A triumph followed by many others to come.

Collector’s Habit. (Comfortable Imprisonment / Chains + Cages)

Chrollo’s penthouse is lined with things both of significance to him and you. Almost all of it is stuff that he has stolen, however, not that he cares. The paintings lined up in the dining room, the many pretty dresses put in your closet and you are forced to wear, the jewelry that he clasps onto your neck and fingers and wrists like chains, all of them are stolen in some capacity or another.

The things that he had stolen from your home all look like they belong there, almost. Your favorite pink beret placed next to a porcelain plate of macaroons and fruit a note telling you to get ready for a date later in the evening, an old photo of you placed in a frame that ought to be at least three hours worth of your salary, your most cherished books all lined up next to Chrollo’s own, all the covers and sizes somewhat similar to one another that it almost drives you mad. It brings Chrollo comfort, while it brings you ire.

Possibly, you’ll read one of his Dostoevsky pieces when you think he is gone, or you’ll try on one of his many fur coats when it gets too chilly or when you are curious. But curiosity always finds a way to kill the cat, because when you think you are not going to be caught, Chrollo finds a way to sneak up behind you and simply observe, smirking, even when you see him.

Attention-Seeking.

Chrollo has always been one to utterly enjoy being in the limelight. He loves acting parts, playing parts as classy as a Prince Charming to a part as scheming as a villain that has locked the princess in a tower. You get both, the unlucky person you are. He gives you roses and proclaims poems and confessions of absolute love and undying loyalty, but you then remember that he is the one that trapped you here, to begin with.

This life that was forced upon you is a fairytale very close to cracking and falling apart, but never does.

You are forced to be a helpless maiden waiting for a knight in shining armor to rescue her, but unfortunately for you, that knight is also the very evildoer in this story. So, you try to be your own knight, your own prince, but it will never be as close or as real as an actual hero. So, your attempts fail, regardless of how long they were in the making. You are not strong enough, not fast enough, and you simply cannot write your own ending in this whimsical tale if Chrollo is always aware of them.

But you come up with a plan that takes weeks upon weeks and months upon months for it to bear fruit.

You'll comply with his desires and make your getaway when he least anticipates it. Thus, you're compelled to dance with Chrollo, flawlessly and without objection, to safeguard your plan. However, with each movement, it feels as though nails are penetrating your foot, for you're uncertain if Chrollo is aware of your actions, and it fills you with immense fear.

But it is too late to back out of this, so you keep on doing this waltz.

Eliminating Rivals.

The basement, as always, is filled with dust and dirt with insects both alive and dead scattered on the floor next to Feitan’s equipment. Chrollo does not mind it, though, despite him still wearing the suit he wore when he was following you to the train station, the route you usually took to get back from your best friend’s house to your place. He does not like her, but he decides to let her still do whatever with her life as she pleases, unlike the person currently zip-tied to one of the rusty chairs with broken legs. As long as she does not try to seek to be more than friends with you, she’ll be safe from harm. Even though Chrollo’s gut is telling him that she will try, that she will kiss you, say “I love you” to you and maybe go on top of you in bed and-

He tries not to think about it, he is already behind schedule enough as it is, though he could just make Feitan do the work by himself. He tries not to think about it because he has to start preparing his penthouse for your arrival soon to come. He has already purchased some new comforter sets for the bedroom, along with some of the skincare products he knows you use in the bathroom. He’s busy, too busy to involve himself with something other than torturing this man and getting back on track. He focuses on the scene ahead, trying not to think about that friend of yours or the barista who always looks at you for a tad bit too long. If he let his emotions and not logic control him, he would have murdered half this town already and left love notes on their headstones.

He looks at the man, covered in his own blood, his own vomit, his own feces from being confined there for days before Chrollo arrived, deathly thin from starvation and dehydration. From what Feitan told him, Feitan gouged out one eye one day and the other eye the next day, leaving him blind and weeping, his vocal cords far-reaching past their limit, crying out gibberish like some sort of animal, something not too conscious enough of its surroundings to be anything considered even near human.

“Fei, do you hear that?”

“...I do.”

Sexual Drive: 5/10.

Chrollo knows most of what there is to know about sex, but not for his own pleasure. He uses this knowledge mainly in intelligence gathering, when Shalnark, Feitan, and even Pakunoda are not able to get the information the Troupe needs for their next heist. He holds sex with little to no emotional value because of this, since his love for the other Troupe members is high above what little admiration he could possibly hold for those people that he subtly interrogates while fucking them as gently or as hard as they want him to, whispering in their ear when they are feeling their most euphoric, asking them what dons are trading with each other and with what, asking them how the president of this company makes so much when the value of their imports and exports don’t exactly match up, asking them how exactly many secret passageways this mansion has… it’s endless, really, how much information he can get out of them. The human body is so vulnerable, especially when pain mixes with pleasure or pleasure mixes with pain or pain is alone or please is alone. Chrollo is grateful for it.

But when it comes to sex with you, Chrollo then finally sees the emotional side of this spectrum. Your bodies bond and become one, melting into one another as you both moan out each other’s name, lovingly yours and lovingly his.

This development does not surprise him because he does want an emotional bond with you in some sense of the word, he wants you to worship him just as much as he does with you.

Let us go, shall we? Before you could answer, his hand grabs your wrist, his grip making it impossible for someone like you to break away. We… have plenty to talk about and do, correct?

Violence Towards Darling: 3/10.

Don’t take this as a sign that he will not use violence on you at all. Believing that Chrollo's violent tendencies towards you are limited to slapping or ignoring you is a naive assumption. You soon realize that attempting to strike him is futile due to his lightning-fast reflexes. Fighting back against Chrollo will not resolve anything. Instead, you come to understand that he wants you to be like a pet, constantly performing tricks and obediently following his commands.

You wonder if he would also display you like a trophy. Uncertain, you contemplate whether or not you want to find out. Eventually, a few nights later, you dream of a life without Chrollo's constant control, where he does not touch you possessively and parade you around expensive events. You recognize that you are nothing more than his lapdog, his pet, his trophy.

However, Chrollo claims to see something more in you. Is he being genuine in his belief? Do you really desire to uncover the truth?

Violence Towards Others: 8/10.

In his search for you, he maintains his usual calm demeanor, though his eyes reveal his inner turmoil. Anger fills his vision, overshadowing any light. Surely, you couldn't have gone too far. He frantically scans the penthouse until he finds you on the balcony... in the company of someone else.

“Feeling intrusive, are we?”

He pays no mind to the identity of this person, although it's likely they are a former lover or at the very least, a love interest. Your declarations of love and reciprocated kisses leave no room for doubt. How they managed to reach this height is irrelevant to him.

Without uttering a single word, he opens his book, channeling an unseen force from his hands to your ill-fated companion, causing them to plummet to the ground amidst screams from both of you.

After a few moments of tears, mumbled apologies, and the utterance of their name, he informs you that a serious discussion will take place later. With that, you silently follow him back inside. He will contact Shizuku to handle the cleanup of the body in due time.

Vanilla / Kinky

Favorite Kinks:

Begging.

Both inside and outside the bedroom, Chrollo likes having you beg, from you begging him to let you orgasm to you begging him to get you that new book in that series you were quite interested in before you got stolen away. It’s a power dynamic no doubt, it makes him feel wanted by you, needed by you, loved by you. That’s all he wants, really, your love and devotion and for you to promise to be his sun and moon and stars, for you to say he is bigger and more important to me than the sky, for you to hold him, for him to hold you.

No matter how much time passes, how many different places you both stay in and leave, how many countries you visit for leisure or for Chrollo's next big scheme, he refuses to break this unhealthy pattern, even for your sake. He enjoys this routine, so why would he alter it? He will occasionally tease you for being rather selfish, even as you both grow older and wiser and your hairs both white and your skin wrinkly. He will even say it to you when your corpse is resting peacefully in its coffin, as he sheds tears for the first time in many years.

Every time please, Chrollo, please, I… comes out of your mouth, it sounds like to him, the most beautiful martial vow.

He locks each and every one into the deepest crevices of his heart like unwilling prisoners, despite how small and cold and dead his said heart is, at least to you. They don’t want to stay, but they have to because I want them there in remembrance. Just like you. Poetic, is it not?

Voyeurism.

The screen in front of him showed you coming out of the shower, your body dripping with soapy water with a towel on your body that barely covered anything and a smaller towel covering your hair that was put up in a clip. Shalnark placing cameras all around your place made things much easier to know things about you that he could not find out through traditional stalking alone. He is grateful for him.

Slowly, as he smiled, one of his hands went into his pants, then his boxers as he caressed the half-hard thing beneath them both. He kept groaning as it got harder and harder, his breathing getting faster and faster. He is not sure how much time had gone by, but he knows that there was now liquid, slow and warm, running down his legs and is all over his hand, and as always, you were none the wiser.

Oral. (Receiving)

Your knees are on the floor, having been there so long it hurts. Your neck is curved backward and your mouth is in pain from his large manhood in there like an unwanted intruder, as you desperately gag and choke and cry. The only reason you have not successfully gotten away is because one of his hands is grabbing the back of your head and pulling you every time you pull, hopelessly still trying to fight.

Your hands are tied behind your back with silk to not damage the skin of your wrists, while you desperately try to claw your way out of them.

You’re in the clothing that he wants you to wear, as usual, though calling it clothing would be an overstatement as it hardly covers anything. A black thong with a short skirt, along with a low-cut bralette. As always, you have no say in the matter, and even though you are unable to utter a word, he showers you with affectionate words, as fake as they seem.

Favorite Parts:

Your Thighs.

It is more of a comfort thing than anything else, really. The way that it is one of the softest parts of you, one of the meatiest parts of you, and, most of all, the easiest parts of you to grab and hold and kiss and press hickeys into and fuck.

It’s only natural for a thief to want to keep their prized possessions close to them, is it not, my darling?

While Chrollo still places you all of his mementos and diamonds and paintings among the many, many other things he has hidden away in his current penthouse, seeing you as better than all of those things combined, he still sees you, in some ways, as something to be sanctioned, whether it be for your own safety or just his pure, unadulterated selfishness, or perhaps both.

So, he holds onto your thighs at all times pretty much, squeezing the flesh for either attention or just because he needs some security that you are still there with him, no matter how close you physically are to him.

He will occasionally rest his head on your lap, reciting his book aloud while you are obliged to listen. He never dozes off because he is too cautious for that, although he yearns for it. His desire to lie down and have you run your fingers through his hair as he gradually drifts to sleep almost surpasses all his other needs. It may sound like a fantasy for him, no pun intended.

However, it would be a nightmare for you, whether he falls asleep or not. But as always, Chrollo hardly cares. If you dare to object, your longer skirts, shorts, and one pair of sweatpants will vanish for approximately a month, only to be replaced by outrageously short clothes that barely qualify as attire.

They’re soft, just like your lips, your voice, just everything else about you, you, you. It’s the parts that most perfectly describe you, he’ll say, forcing you to tolerate all his touches because his hand is not going anywhere, just like the rest of me, sweetling.

Just stay still and let me see how plush you are just for me, alright?

If he ignores all the goosebumps and the shivers, he can assume that this is what heaven feels like. It must be, right, dearest?

Your Collarbone.

Despite everything else about him, Chrollo can be a sort of traditionalist when he wants to be. This applies quite rarely though, only really affecting the relationship he has with you, both inside and outside of the bedroom.

He likes how the bones stick out, the crevices just so perfect for him to slide the tip of his fingers across, just so perfect for him to kiss and bite, just so perfect to hang necklaces from so they are on a sort of diagonal and reflect the light, making them shine and making them highlight the hickeys that have been pressed into them, right below them, and right above them…

He forces you to wear all kinds of accessories and low-cut shirts that he can find, not caring how much money it would cost, just to see some diamond-encrusted choker on your neck. He says in the calmest voice he can muster that it is no big deal, darling, just trust me and I got this for you and you alone, now why don’t you be a sweetheart and put it on? You might think that a choker and a collar are essentially the same, as they both tightly grip the neck like a suffocating hold. However, Chrollo pays no mind to this, as owners don't concern themselves with their pets realizing they're wearing such a sign of possession.

Your Feet.

Chrollo appreciates art in his own unique way, specifically when it comes to sculpting and realism. He finds your feet to be truly exquisite, along with the rest of you. Despite your attempts to ignore it or cover them up, he has a clear fondness for your feet. Your toes are round, your heels are perfectly shaped, and your soles fit perfectly in his hands when he places heeled shoes on them. In secret, he also enjoys the scent of your feet, although he would never admit it. He would rather die than confess.

Your feet are cute and can become sweaty and sticky, making them easy to hold onto, just like your thighs.

Those traits really remind him after you orgasm, with you of course begging repeatedly for it a few moments before he lets you.

It's a hidden pleasure for him, even if you were to discover it, he would keep it to himself. You won't be able to get any information from him. If you do happen to find out, don't be surprised when a substantial portion of your jewelry drawer is filled with anklets.

His Fingers.

Chrollo admires his hands more than most other parts of his body. He trims his fingernails every two weeks, putting hand cream every time he steps out of the bath, never skipping this routine of his. The reason he admires his hands so much is that despite all the bloodshed and other dirty acts he does with them, they remain on the outside clean. It boosts his ego, in a way.

There are just so many uses for them, he loves flipping the pages of his favorite novels with them, he loves cutting food for both you and himself with them, he loves squeezing your thigh as either a warning or a sign of love… there are just endless possibilities, at least from his perspective.

But his new favorite thing is to fuck your clit with them, and yours alone.

Is it a privilege, then, that only yours can bring him such joy? Whether you believe it to be so or not, it holds no significance, for Chrollo finds pleasure in this, and only his satisfaction matters, given that he is the one who has taken you captive.

Please, Chrollo, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, I can’t take this anymore I-

His movements are flawlessly executed, almost unfairly so. They are deliberate yet unhurried, demanding your submission. However, he will only grant you this pleasure if you plead for it. The act of begging will consume several minutes, perhaps even a minimum of two, leaving you in a state of desperation. Meanwhile, he will revel in your discomfort, relishing the power he holds over you. This perverse satisfaction is what he adores the most.

As you wish.

Inevitably, you will find yourself succumbing to your desires, unable to resist the overwhelming pleasure he provides. Despite your stubbornness, your willpower will eventually crumble under the weight of his expertise.

He derives immense pleasure from knowing that he alone possesses the ability to bring you such ecstasy. This knowledge fuels his ego, heightening his sense of self-importance.

His Words.

Chrollo has an insatiable thirst for knowledge, but he also derives great pleasure from imparting knowledge and amusingly embarrassing others. And when it comes to you, he takes it to another level.

He constantly showers you with compliments, comparing you to famous heroines like Juliet and Ophelia from classic literature. He insists that you possess the same beauty as any damsel in distress from those timeless tales. To prove his point, he even offers to acquire paintings of these fictional princesses and damsels for you to admire and compare yourself to.

Wanting a break from his constant attention, you agree to his proposal. Besides, you get the bonus of owning some exquisite artwork. What could go wrong, right?

Well, it turns out to be a colossal mistake.

Upon waking up, you find yourself surrounded by what feels like an entire museum filled with paintings of fictional damsels, duchesses, princesses, and queens. The overwhelming presence of these artworks threatens to suffocate you. And to make matters worse, Chrollo insists on meticulously going through each painting one by one, forcing you to endure this ordeal that could very well last for days.

Your legs resemble hers, your lips resemble hers, your feet resemble hers... every aspect of your physique and the muse's physique that he remarks upon, leaves you feeling incredibly exposed, more so than ever before.

The duration of this process is absolutely exasperating. It leaves you feeling as defenseless as a lamb anticipating its fate in the hands of a butcher.

His Knowledge.

Chrollo truly treasures his knowledge, viewing it as divine nectar from the heavens, if indeed it exists. This belief is so strong that he occasionally overestimates it, taking every opportunity to display it in a way that impresses you more than anything else he does, both inside and outside of the bedroom. Whether intentionally or not, he will state the obvious, like pointing out that the creature you're observing in the rose garden during your “date” is not a slug, but a snail.

It frustrates you, but you acknowledge that it could be worse–he could forbid you from venturing outdoors altogether.

Surely, that counts for something, doesn't it?

…Doesn’t it?

Fantasies. (Consent / Non-Con) (Coercion / Brute Force)

If one were to make a comparison, they would compare you to a piece of art so beautiful, that it is instinct to witness, praise, and worship until their bodies all turn to mere dust, in which they will be swept away by those alive who do not want your refinement to be stained by those who have passed on. For what is a beauty without a beholder? Chrollo will gladly take up that role, as he is the only one worthy of seeing such a piece. You, leaning on the pillows, legs crossed, hair put up in a neat bun, wearing makeup that he has said he likes on you before, looking up at him like he has come to bless you with a mere glimpse of the divine power he holds, wearing the black lingerie he chose for you to wear this evening, made of lace with patterns of roses scattered about.

This is his welcome home gift, from both himself and you. He may have requested that you could partake in this, but since you are doing it without any complaint but instead loving doing the task at hand, he could consider him soon becoming one with your body for the evening to be an award from you for all the work he has done for the Troupe these past few days.

If such a prize is laid before him, ripe for the taking, why wouldn’t he? So, without so much as uttering another word, he starts to undress as you watch, a mix of genuine joy and interest laid out on your face. He hasn’t even touched you yet, and with this simple act, you are bound to him with the invisible thread of lust.

When his boxers are all the way down, he approaches, and you don’t blink, wanting to take it all in. Shall the fun start? When your lips meet, all reservations that you once had dissolve, as few as they are now.

(But don’t think Chrollo respects your boundaries completely when it comes to sex; if you deny him enough, over the course of months and months, he will break his composure and show you where you belong; underneath him.)

→ Strengths.

Realities. (Your Own, His Avow) (Patient / Impatient)

The being that is above you in this bed is unlike any human you have ever met before. His looks and personality are all artificially crafted, like some automaton made to resemble actual living things, but do not stray far from their roots, what they were made for, and what they were made of. I’m real, you think, I’m real. Chrollo is not.

He’s aware of everything you do. Every step you take. Every word you say.

He is aware. He possesses knowledge of all things, much like the god he feigns to be. His understanding of emotions is as keen as his logical reasoning, resulting in a situation of dread that pertains solely to you.

It instills fear within you because he holds the key to all knowledge, while you remain in not-so-blissful ignorance.

→ Weaknesses.

Lotus Eater. (Dreamy Idleness)

Chrollo, despite his attempts to appear superior to others, is not without his flaws. If those around him stroke his ego, he becomes overly confident. Yet, if one were to try the opposite approach, it would have the same effect as boosting his ego. He is cursed with arrogance, always believing he is superior to others, even some members of the Troupe. Perhaps you can use this knowledge to your advantage. Faking affection could lower his guard and further inflate his narcissism. It is a strategic move, preferable to engaging in a physical fight that you cannot possibly win.

Therefore, when you believe you have the opportunity to escape when his guard seems lowered enough that he won't immediately pursue you, you run. At that moment, his facade will crack, his eyes will grow emptier, and the hollow husk chasing after you will not resemble the Chrollo you once knew.

→ Daily Life.

Welcome. (Day One)

Chrollo remains a mystery begging to be left unsolved.

He rises at his usual hour each morning, and it's a rarity to witness him actually sleeping. His breakfast consistently consists of sausage and eggs, seasoned solely with salt and pepper, as he avoids other spices. He purchases fresh bread from whichever local bakery happens to be closest for the week or a few days ahead. Occasionally, if you're fortunate, he may bring back something sweet while out and about, such as a chocolate-filled croissant or a cherry jam-filled danish. However, trust, whether in platonic or romantic relationships, is something that must be earned.

Interestingly, it appears that regardless of the circumstances, Chrollo seems to possess a certain level of trust that you won't make any foolish choices. On your initial day in this penthouse, he simply greeted you, patiently waiting until the effects of the drugs wore off, allowing you to cry on the bed until your tears ran dry. He comforted you, softly shushing you and gently caressing your cheeks with his thumb.

Yet, he never becomes too intimate.

Was that his motive? Is that why he opted to masquerade as a compassionate gentleman rather than a captor? Instead of asserting his authority, he chose to console you, demonstrating that such solace could be snatched away in an instant. You were oblivious to his true intentions. On that initial day, you wept more than any other day, the taste of mint on Chrollo's breath and the aroma of coffee still etched in your memory. He would inflict further harm, and for the sake of your sanity, you believe it is preferable for him to remain an enigma, shielding you from the repulsive monster lurking beneath his attractive facade.

What Could Be. (And What Is)

Strangely enough, there are still parts of your life after Chrollo has captured you that would still sort of count as normal enough that you could turn the other way and ignore all other cosmic horrors that are happening in the general vicinity. You could still decide what you want to eat and drink that day, what to watch, what to read, what time to wake up and what time to go to bed, what to write in your diary (that not-so-strangely has its lock missing now), listen to the morning birds or to the music that Chrollo allows you to listen to (which is most of it, shockingly)... the list really is endless, really, aside from a few things that you forget sometimes, much to future you’s horror.

But sometimes you forget on purpose, to divulge in the fantasy Chrollo has carefully crafted for both of you, either to fool him or your walls really are as broken down as he wants them to be.

He finds it nice when you ask him questions about whatever place he has rented for the two of you for the time being, the location at hand most likely being related to the Troupe’s plans to steal whatever is of value. He likes to show off, and to listen to him talk for hours requires the patience of a saint.

→ Punishments. (No Punishments / Tortuous Punishments)

Welcome Again. (Failed Departure)

The penthouse looked to be the same after you ran out the entrance door that you lockpicked. The fireplace was still lit. There was still a smell of peppermint in the air along with some scent of coffee, lattes maybe. Everything looks the same, just as it always has. It nearly scares you more, how calm and warm this place is, than the hand that has a grip on your wrist so tight that you feel like he will dislocate it in the very least.

But he does not look angry, but that smile is not good at all either.

He does not say anything as he closes the door behind him, turning the lock on the door so it will remain that way. He does not say anything as he continues to drag you, albeit a bit more tight in his grip now that you are within his grasp once again. Whatever you say goes in one ear and out the other, and you know better than to struggle and scream, because you do not want this day to result in yet another bloodbath, and it would be useless anyway, even if someone came to rescue you. That is why, like the sort of pet you were trained to be, you bite your tongue and obey. He seems to not be angry now, but who knows what awaits you once you are in the bedroom, where most talks and actions are the consequences of your supposed crimes. You can’t really breathe, but that is alright. Chrollo will help you every step of the way after all, as the dutiful owner he has come to be.

Perhaps a pet is all you will be.

He wants you to look up at him like some god, some deity that you worship with all your being. But you can’t, not yet, and Chrollo knows that. Perhaps some methods unknown to you but known to him can help, can’t it?

He hopes so for your sake, but what do you hope for, wish for? You don’t know, and maybe never will.

Venus Fly Trap. (Temptations of a Liar)

Chrollo is well aware of the diverse array of predatory flowers, each manifesting in its own unique way. Perhaps you too possess such characteristics, with your alluring fragrance and honeyed speech, deceiving him into a false sense of security before stripping it all away. However, there is one crucial detail you seem to have overlooked. What transpires when a venus fly trap ensnares a prey that surpasses its own size and devours its own kind and others, rather than the typical fly it ensnares?

Undoubtedly, they suffer. Yet it appears that this lesson has eluded you thus far, hasn't it?

You have displayed kindness, sweetness, and a willingness to comply, within certain limits. Undoubtedly, you possess some degree of skill, though not enough to deceive him, the enigmatic masked orchestrator of this theatrical production.

Therefore, it is without much remorse that he renders you motionless with delicate silk and persuasive words that possess the potential to sting, should you ever dare to push him too far.

However, deep down you are aware of the truth, just as he is aware too. If he doesn't take a firm stance, what other undesirable situations will you find yourself in? With a single hand, he flips open the book, while using the other to shush you.

“A shame,” He says, turning the pages. “A crying shame, really. The sky is so lovely tonight… Who knows when we will get this scenery again, hmm?”

You don’t know what he will do to you.

…Does he?

→ Quotes.

Hello.

Greetings. It is truly an honor to meet you face to face like this at long last, [First]. There is no need to introduce yourself to me as I already know who you are. That, and… hmm. That, and I think you are not all there right now. Please, I recommend relaxing and listening to what I have to say. But just to make sure, try to speak to me… as expected.

Chat: Ballet.

All dancers must put themselves fully into whatever moves they do. I suppose that can be the same thing for you and me.

Chat: Athenaeum.

Libraries and archives are some of the places I enjoy going to the most. Maybe if you continue behaving, I’ll take you to one nearby.

Chat: Reimbursement.

Quid pro quo, darling; I assume you know the best ways to compensate me for the broken locks?

When It Rains.

The rain is perfect for a day of staying inside. Though, hehe… you’ll be indoors no matter what, right? Good thing you have me as company today. …What do you mean? I leave sometimes, mainly to get you things might I add. I suggest being more grateful if you don’t want that koala plush to disappear.

After It Rains.

Sigh… the smell of morning dew and the sounds of birds chirping… simply marvelous. Let’s go dance on the balcony, but be sure not to get your new shoes wet and slip. I would hate to have to bring Machi again.

When Thunder Strikes.

Aw, are you going to cling to me so cutely whenever there is a storm? I wouldn’t mind that, I’ll even give you more blankets to hide in if you wish. …Wait, dearest, come back… sigh… of course she hid under the bed again.

When It Snows.

So cold out there, isn’t it? If you ask nicely, I’ll give you back your socks and slippers. Go on.

When the Sun Is Out.

Let’s go on a walk tonight when it’s not so hot out. The sunset’s beauty will only be second to your own.

Good Morning.

Good morning, love, I made coffee. Feel free to use one of the creamers I got you, and there is oat milk near them somewhere in the fridge… Hm? I have never really been a fan of sweet drinks, so black coffee tastes good to someone like me.

Good Afternoon.

Sure, you can cook lunch. But allow me to cut the ingredients and heat sources. We know how you used them last time.

Good Evening.

It’s so quiet you can only hear the crickets chirping. It’s quite a romantic atmosphere, isn't it?

Good Night.

Ah ah ah. No bed for you yet. Give me a goodnight kiss first. No, you can’t sleep on the couch either. Or the floor. If you keep refusing, I’m going to ask you more questions than yesterday. …That’s better.

About Chrollo: Tattoos.

There is something comforting about them, I think. No matter what the person does to reject it, it will stay. The permanence of such an act should also be what you should be. Now, bite me again and you will sooner than later find yourself in a tattoo parlor. Am I understood?

About Chrollo: Lies.

Don’t say that, my love. I’m not lying to you, I’m just picking what parts of the truth to show and hide. There is no harm in that, I think.

About Us: Home.

This place is much more human with you in it. Do with that as you wish.

About Us: Cull.

Life and death have a sort of agreement. A contract if you will. The more lives taken by your hands, the more your own life is put at risk. Quite poetic. Like everything else in life, there must be balance.

About Us: Matrimony.

Being bound by just a few words… The very idea is beautiful in my opinion. If you want, we can get married. It is not like anyone else is going to put that pretty ring finger of yours to good use, anyway.

About Us: Panoply.

Anything you want you shall receive. Just say the word. Unless it is already here, which is a possibility.

About You: Humanity.

The human psyche is truly fascinating, don’t you agree? All it takes is a few words or a few actions and it all comes crumbling down. Like you.

About You: Epiphany.

Not a man, not ten men, not a hundred men can ever provide me with the same joy you give me. You’re special, you know? You make me feel… alive.

Something to Share.

“Be glad as children, as birds in the sky.” A quote from Fyodor Dostoevsky. But… birds are constantly migrating to better places, so really, are they grateful and glad for the gift of life?

Interesting Things.

I see you are doing experiments with pH again. Just be sure to not use all of the vinegar, please. And no, vinegar cannot melt a door, for the final time.

About Nobunaga.

He thinks more with his heart than his head. But he means well for the Troupe. Or himself when he makes someone call to order takeout for him.

About Feitan.

I learned a lot of torture methods from him. He truly is the best at what he does. As for social skills… not so much. But everyone has their ups and downs, and that is Fei’s.

About Machi.

One of the most loyal people I have ever met. Also one of the most in tune with their wants and needs. If she thinks of something to say, she’ll say it without a doubt. She is very transparent when it comes to that kind of thing.

About Hisoka.

Hisoka… he is very… out there, isn’t he? But he is valuable to me, so I give him free rein to do whatever he wishes.

About Phinks.

One of the physically strongest. Though also one of the only ones to ever get a laugh out of me. Shizuku once asked him why he did not have any eyebrows, and the way he stopped talking and stared at the ceiling caused us all to snicker. Feitan did earn a blow to the head by the end of it because Phinks does not hit women… He is much more gentlemanly than he appears.

About Shalnark.

When it comes to computers and such, Shalnark is the person to do it. He was the one to convince me to get a newer phone model and taught me how it worked. He kept chuckling as he did, and every question I had asked earned a wide smile in response but no actual answer. He says I am an… “old man at heart…?”

About Franklin.

He is not the most talkative one out there, but if ever comes to games to decide matters, he is the one for the job. Once, Uvogin betted fifty thousand Jenny if he ever beat me in chess. Franklin managed to almost win in the end, but he gave up at the last moment. He said he couldn’t bear to do that to me.

About Shizuku.

At long last, she at least remembers my name. She is quite charming in her own way… I see why Franklin took on a sort of caretaker role for her.

About Pakunoda.

Paku… Paku is one of the sweetest people I know. Whenever I didn’t feel well, she was the first one to come and help me feel better. She even fed me her rations, regardless of the tough times we were put through. I should ask her to make me soup again, I have missed the taste of it…

About Bonolenov.

When he trusts you enough, he has quite a humorous and proud side. He is very proud of his culture, and as someone who did not have one as a child, I find it very admirable.

About Uvogin.

I swear he could drink enough beer to kill a whale and still not be satisfied. The same goes for fights. Any challenge goes, whether that is an eating or video game contest.

About Kortopi.

His copying ability is quite useful, and Nobunaga wanted to give him a haircut using his sword. He declined of course, much to Nobunaga’s disappointment. …Hm? A copy of you? No, you are priceless, and nothing can ever compare, even a version of you that does everything I ask. There is a charm to your disobedience. That, and Kortopi cannot make living copies.

More About Chrollo: I.

Come. I got you some books for us to read together. But before you touch them, I must tell you that you can only read them while on my lap. Isn’t that such a great deal, dearest?

More About Chrollo: II.

“Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven…” Yes, I can see the parallels between this line and myself. Is that why you decided to show me this? …Oh, you just wanted an excuse to call me Lucifer again. Do what you wish, I suppose. But please put that book back on the shelf where it came from when you are done. You know I hate it when you mess up the categories. …Hm? Don’t do that, or I won’t get you any more mochi. …You know my threats aren’t empty, my dear.

More About Chrollo: III.

…Do you need something from me, dearest? No? …Why am I asking? So you just happen to be pressing your chest against my arm for no apparent reason? …I see. Well, if you want my attention so badly, who am I to refuse?

More About Chrollo: IV.

Yes, that note is from me. That gift is also from me. Open it, please. …You should try wearing that set next time. Your thighs will stand out better. You were the one that was asking last night, not me. Ah, you are feeling rather adventurous these past few weeks, aren’t you? …Looking for something? Is this it? You know, I’m disappointed in you, to put it frankly. I thought you were coming around. You know what happens now, don’t you?

More About Chrollo: V.

Time has certainly sped by, hasn’t it? Let me give you a word of advice. No matter what happens, always remember those who have gotten you to where you are now. As a result, your situation can prove to be much less isolating that way. …Yes, that includes me. For when you are alone, my dear, your mind always finds a way to eat you whole.

Chrollo’s Hobbies.

Leading an orchestra and executing a grand theft operation share fundamental principles. It is imperative to maintain a commanding presence, ensuring that others adhere to your lead. Collaboration becomes the pivotal factor in achieving triumph during such endeavors.

Chrollo’s Troubles.

I find it perplexing how some individuals effortlessly navigate life with a serene demeanor, rooted in their unwavering sense of self. Maybe it stems from a twinge of envy, or perhaps there's another elusive element at play. But being envious is part of being human, is it not?

Favorite Food: Black Squid Ink Carbonara.

It is briny, and salty, like the sea. Quite refreshing as well, especially paired with homemade pasta. Only the best quality is allowed. …I am not being too picky. Do you know how many children in Meteor City have grown up never eating from a fast food place, much less a local restaurant? I simply am greedy because I can now. I couldn’t before, and that is why I do so as an adult.

Favorite Food: Opulence.

As an adult, my current ability to indulge in greed is a newfound privilege that I couldn't have experienced previously. Hence, I find it impossible to resist the temptation of adding an extra serving of truffle or caviar to my plate.

Least Favorite Food: Canned Cabbage.

One of the very few foods I refused to eat unless absolutely necessary was canned cabbage. It was slimy and always came in watery vinegar with mostly moldy parts… I was desperate, but not desperate enough to eat that. Machi, Nobunaga, and Phinks all agreed. Feitan didn’t, much to everyone’s annoyance.

Least Favorite Food: Waste.

Paku, Machi, and Feitan had a sort of pact that they forced on the rest of us to never throw away things that were still edible. According to Shalnark and Uvogin, moldy food is still edible. Phinks and I disagreed but… we got outvoted.

Receiving a Gift: I.

Indulging in scrumptious meals truly possesses the power to alleviate all worries. So, how can I express my gratitude?

Receiving a Gift: II.

Oh? Thank you, dearest. …For your own good, you better not have put salt instead of sugar this time.

Receiving a Gift: III.

Ah... considering you seem to have a moment to spare, would you be interested in sitting down and enjoying a shared reading session? The choice of material is entirely up to you, of course.

Chrollo’s Birthday.

You are such a prize, you know? You’re in an outfit worth its weight in gold, actually, now that I think about it, diamonds. Autumn has set in, the weather gets colder, and the food gets warmer. Perfect time for spending quality time with someone, wouldn’t you say so? Please, allow me to do this with you, [First]. I have never really cared for this day if I am being honest, but… now that you are here, I feel like new opportunities are around every corner.

Birthday.

Happy birthday, [First]. Within reason, I would like to treat you to whatever your heart desires. Food, art, wine; anything, just tell me, alright? I will see to it. …Heh. I’m afraid a fall from this penthouse will not be enough to kill me. …No, I am not going to put it to the test, since I am certain about it. Please think of something else. The world is your oyster, dearest. But… remember that I can always close it before you can get to the pearl.

Feelings About You: Ethereal.

This feeling… I haven’t felt something like this since… Hmm? Am I? Quite the observation.

Feelings About You: Euphonious.

…I miss your voice, you know. I always like it when you get caught up in a topic that interests you, no matter what it is. …But last time I took the gag off and took you out, you behaved quite terribly… Here, I’ll tell you what. I’ll take the gag off, and I’ll get you something related to your interests, and then we can talk about it. Does that sound good to you?

Feelings About You: Eternity.

We shall be together forever, bonded at the hip if we must be. I promise you. Do not worry about the details. It does not matter if you like it or not, because I will take care of whatever obstacles get in our way. Whether that obstacle is you or any… outsiders.

Feelings About You: Elision.

Do know that I do mean it when I say that I do want to make you happy. Yes, our relationship is less than ideal, but in the end, just know my feelings for you are indeed sincere. …I’m not exactly willing to take criticism, but I could try, perhaps. If you like to do so, I am willing to compromise, though.

→ Conclusion.

You never hear Chrollo in his movements, but you do in his actions when he wants you to.

He puts far more effort into the little things, the details than outright saying his feelings for you, or just telling you his threats. That mysterious gift that appeared on your bed while you were away at work, that just so happens to contain some of your favorite sweets?

The bouquet on your kitchen table that was placed while you were asleep? The box of dozens if not at least a hundred pictures of you by your mailbox when you tried to file a police report?

Chrollo is patient to a fault. You will never know what is happening, at its fullest, until it is far too late.

You can put as much blame on yourself as you want, and hate yourself as much as you want, for not realizing how dangerous this entire situation is. But this position under Chrollo’s thumb is so much more horrifying than you could ever imagine, so do not blame yourself for not noticing everything at once.

That is not to say Chrollo won’t try to degrade you into thinking this is all your fault.

Your walls will be as good as broken and crumbled down sooner than you think.

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arabellasleopardcoat · 11 months

Text

Whatever souls are made of (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Aemond and his wife explore touch. Can be read as a part two of DIFM or a stand alone.

Warnings: Mentions of SA (Heavily) Purity culture, internalized misogyny. Aemond’s POV. Angst. Fluff. As always, more detailed warnings at the end after the dots.

A/N: I do not have the amount of time needed to create my own philosophy, so I took western’s ideas. Title is from Wuthering Heights.

Aemond didn’t believe in soulmates. Whatever the maesters of old had said about them, be it either the same beings separated by the gods or people made from the same substances, it was not real. As any educated young man, he had often wondered what it was that gave humans life. Rationally speaking, there had to be something that set us apart from other beings and at the same time was finite, else people wouldn’t die. Aemond had settled for calling it soul because it seemed to be a sort of universal denomination. It didn’t mean he believed in all the romance related tales.

Then, his mother had brought him you.

“Just think it over, darling.” Alicent had said, laying a careful hand on his shoulder. He had felt the urge to nuzzle into her touch, pull her in for a hug, yet he couldn’t. He couldn't because there were secrets on top of secrets all boiling up in his throat, behind his eye, and sometimes he felt so utterly lonely he wanted to scream them all. All the hatred and fear and solitude, out loud and open. But this time, Aemond stayed behind his wall and didn’t speak, merely humming.

“I have found you the perfect wife. She likes reading, and she is very learned. Dutiful, too. You would never have to worry, with her at your side. She is not like your sister.” And Aemond knew she was not thinking of sweet, demure Helaena. “She is demure and devout, and has the most charming eyes I have ever seen.”

“Mother…” Because, really, he was not ready for marriage. The idea of having to be so vulnerable again frightened him. Yet at the same time, he craved the feeling of companionship it could bring, if done right. Aemond often wondered if that was what his sister and Daemon had, despite being so awful. They seemed happy. Partners in crime, the wretched pair. He wondered, too, if that sense of companionship was what Aegon was forever looking for in the women of Flea Bottom. If he was never meant to have it, if there was something deeply wrong with him for not enjoying what other men seemed to enjoy like that.

“Aemond, love. I really think she is perfect for you. You will understand when you meet her, it is as if the Seven made her for you. You two are so alike… As if you were soulmates.”

And there it was, that dreaded word again. Despite being broken, and missing pieces, Aemond didn’t think there was anyone one in the world that could be his other half. He was alone. He had always been. Yet… If what his mother said was actually true… If there was a woman who shared his interests and was polite and demure…

“I’ll do it.” The words bubbled out of his throat, uncontrolled. At least this way, he could have someone to talk to. Perhaps it wouldn’t be love, but if the girl truly liked the same things as Aemond did, they could talk, occasionally. And if she was as dutiful as his mother said, his chambers would never be empty again. Because definitely, she would be there with him sometimes, she would sit by the fire and read, or embroider, and perhaps it would be enough, even if they never touched. “I will court her.”

Aemond has this dream, every so often. It’s not what you would expect, of a dragon rider. He never dreams of falling, or of the day he claimed Vhagar. He should, probably. A normal person would get caught up on what if’s, or even on the events of that night, he will not ever speak aloud. Perhaps, on the pain of losing an eye. Aemond is not normal, though. He dreamed so much of being out in the snow, you might take him for a northern.

There was a window on the side of the Red Keep. It overlooked the dinning hall, clearly built to allow the common folk to watch their King dine. It has not been used in very long years. Aemond dreams about it often, of standing out of it on a cold day, locked out of his home as his family dines. Of banging his fists on it until the wood nearly cracks. He screams with all his might, but soon the cold is on him, turning his breath into crystals, his blood into ice. Until Aemond is nothing but an empty husk, robbed of soul. And the most terrifying thing about the dream is his family never look up or notice he is not at the table, not even when his cold, lifeless body thumps against the snow.

I’ll tell you a secret. It was not the pain of losing an eye, what traumatized him. Nor the scorn from the rest of the court.

“…Thoroughly questioned!”

“Where did you hear such lies, boy?”

Aemond knows you can’t die in a dream. He has died on those many times. Yet still, it always takes him an embarrassing amount of time to realize the tears on his face are not frozen and that he is in his chambers. And even then, he feels lost and adrift in the world.

The day he meets you has to be the happiest day of his life. You come out of your carriage, aided by the ever helpful hand of Ser Criston. His mother is also there, practically shining with happiness. Aemond realizes, then, the whole soulmates thing is an utter load of shit.

There is no way a woman as beautiful as you could be the other half of his soul. He is too broken, too jagged and dirty to be the other half of someone as pure as you. Aemond will not be able to remember later what color was your dress, or if you were wearing a cloak with your house’s sigil on it. He remembers your smile, the way the sun lighted up half your face, and a pair of intelligent eyes, nervously trailing over him.

You curtsy perfectly. You say all the right words. And Aemond then takes your arm, and you have to shift because you are holding a book in your hands. It’s a very well-worn copy of Ten Thousand Ships. It’s clearly a parting gift from your family. It’s not often that someone gets to take a book with them in a world like yours. Most nobles families keep their books well locked and cared for, not in the hands of young maidens. When you start to chatter a mile per minute on rhoynar history, Aemond knows he is a goner.

Aemond thinks of taking you. It will be his right, or so everyone keeps repeating. He spends hours on his knees, trying to erase the sinful urges from his mind. The more he falls for you, the more he wishes for closeness. The more time you spend together, the curve of your neck, your plush lips, they all look more enticing. Yet, the idea of touching another and being wrong halts him. The spell would be broken, then. It would be clear to both of you he is not yours. You would know then he has too many rough edges, that Aemond was not built to love.

The first kiss you share is on the Sept. You look up at home, eyes warm and soft, but also frightened. It is then he decides he can’t do to you what was done to him. Not only for his sake, but because Aemond’s heart breaks when he thinks of you sporting the same broken look he has. He can’t bear the thought of you squealing in pain, eyes welling up in tears, body left used and discarded. He thinks of Aegon and the serving girl, of his mother, and wonders what kind of man can be so ruthless.

In his nightmares, you stand facing him, a scar over your eye.

Still, he marries you. The soft balm of your companionship lulls him into a false sense of safety. This must be what heaven feels like, Aemond thinks, as he watches you try and fail to learn and play Cyvasse. It’s all perfect. Until his mother starts demanding a grandson.

Telling you the truth has to be the most difficult thing he has ever done. Aemond only does because you have a right to know. He has seen how you look at babies, with such longing eyes. And once he tells you, he is astonished at your kindness. You hold him, as Aemond tells you of that horrible night when he was thirteen. Of the feeling of being a prisoner of his own body, unable to stop the situation. Of the shame. So much shame.

“Your body understands what it wants, my Prince.” Sticky, sickly sweet. Crooned in his ear as he suffocated, as he screamed inside for it to stop, to stop, to-

Aemond doesn’t actually remember how much he tells you. These are the facts. As he boils over, words bubbling up from his throat, you hold him. And it doesn’t feel like you are suffocating him, but as if he is the one clinging to you like a drowning man clings to a lifeline.

You show up with research a week later. He has noticed your touch becoming more hesitant, of late. Aemond had wondered what that was all about. You had tackled the problem as you often did, his wonderful smart girl. Diagrams, sources, even a speech prepared. He admired that of you, your attention to detail.

You are too perfect of a being to be his. The Seven must have made a mistake, placing you on his path. But Aemond is too selfish of a man to let you go.

It’s that thought, what makes him brave enough to step behind you one night, as you are unpinning your hair. He is no stranger to your night routine, after so many nights spent together, talking until your eyelids drop and giggling like children over board or card games instead of performing your marital duties.

Aemond is careful to let you notice him approaching in the mirror, eye shining in the low light. You look like the Maiden come to life, the light from the fire giving your skin a faint golden glow. Foreign, yet so familiar. Targaryen silver against spun gold.

“Allow me.” Aemond says, gently taking your hand and placing it on your lap. Through the mirror, you smile at him, and tilt your head back in silent acceptance of his touch. He is grateful for it. Aemond often needs the reaffirmation that he is not forcing you to endure his touch. He wants you to be kept safe from the horrors he has endured, when it comes to matters of the flesh. Even if that means never touching you.

Nerves make his stomach flutter. He has found that the first time he touches someone, that’s the hardest. Touch after that, he can endure. He had voiced that to you, once.

“It’s not about you learning to endure my touch, Aemond.” Your soft voice rings in his memory. “It’s about exploring touching and seeing what you enjoy, if any. There is no goal here, or stages. It’s about learning if you want touch and learning to speak out about it.”

No enduring, Aemond reminds himself. Seeing what it’s like. A hesitant hand is placed on your crown, getting used to the texture of your hair under his fingers. His hand is big, and it makes for an amusing sight, nearly enveloping your skull. Aemond wonders what it would be like, to be so close there is no flesh, no skin between you two. Yet at the same time, he doesn’t need to wonder. He knows you so well, it feels as if he knows you to your very bones.

You stay very still, as he plucks one pin, then the other. Your eyes flutter closed, as your hair falls down in a shapeless blob. Aemond stares at it, perplexed. Surely, he has done something wrong. Your hair doesn’t look like this in the mornings, all loose and mussed from sleep.

It must show in the silence that stretches around you two because you laugh and offer him a silver comb.

“I brush it after. So the marks that the pins leave vanish.” Your smile is kind, encouraging, but also questioning. The comb, it is an offer. One he can refuse if he so wishes. It thrills him.

The comb strokes soothe him. It’s much like brushing a horse. Methodical, calming. But better, because it is you. This close, he can smell the sweet smell of the perfume he bought you for your first month of marriage, see the vulnerable skin of your nape. Hear all the sweet little sounds you let out when he scratches the brush lightly along your scalp.

Aemond decides he likes this kind of touch. There is something intimate about standing behind you, brushing your hair. Something that not even knowing all your secrets can give him. No matter if he knows where all the scars on your body come from or what’s your favorite book. There is something special in the way you turn all soft and pliant with pleasure, in the way you turn vulnerable. Trust. You trust him. This is it, he realizes. What he didn’t know he had lost, that night.

The brushing stops. You scrunch up your nose at him through the mirror, in the same way you do when he keeps you from falling asleep, or when the bed lacks the number of blankets you like. Adorable.

“Will you do mine?” He asks, and you nearly jump out of your seat in front of the vanity in your haste to obey him.

“Are you certain? May I braid it?” It’s very lighthearted, but still asking for his approval. His consent.

Aemond sits down on the deserted stool. He closes his eye, and removes the eye patch, so it doesn’t get in the way. A gesture that cannot be misinterpreted. Your breath hitches, slightly. Trust. He is reciprocating the favor.

The brush begins running through his hair in soft, controlled movements. It’s even better than what he imagined.

“Tell me if it doesn’t feel good.”

Aemond doesn’t answer. He relaxes under your hands. Whatever souls are made of, yours and his are not the same. Nonetheless, he is keeping you.

Detailed warnings: The fic is Aemond’s POV of the aftermath of trusting again a partner after SA. It deals with nightmares, self esteem issues, shame, guilt and bad memories. There is a line of dialogue (ONE) from the actual SA. No descriptions

Tags: @yentroucnagol

#aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen fluff #house of the dragon aemond #prince aemond #aemond targaryen fic

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daisynik7 · 1 year

Text

Dirty Thirty

Pairing: Kishibe x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

cw: thigh riding, cunnilingus, fingering, spanking, spit play, vaginal sex (doggy, cowgirl), cockwarming, use of pet names (princess and Master)

Word Count: ~5.6k

Summary: An alluring stranger gives you a special treat on the night of your 30th birthday.

Notes: Kishibe is in his mid 40s. Also, apparently he is 6’4”, so reader is shorter, below 6’. This is very self-indulgent considering my own 30th is in a few days (shout out to all my fellow Pisces babes)! Also, I started this after finishing Chainsaw Man a few weeks ago, so this is a result of heavy Kishibe brainrot.

Additional Note: Check out Part 2 here: After Last Night! Reblogs, likes, and/or comments are appreciated. Thank you for reading!

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The bass of EDM music reverberates through the speakers at the DJ’s booth. This particular bar you frequent turns into a club at 11 PM. College kids from the university down the street congregate in this establishment on the weekends, like today. You and your friends have been here since an hour ago, drinking and chatting in a booth hidden away to the side of the dancefloor. After dinner, you stopped by for a quick drink. With the booze and vibes just right, you ended up staying.

Tonight, you celebrate your birthday. It’s the end of an era, really. You’re officially thirty. You’ve been dreading this day for the past few months, sad to bid farewell to your twenties, which wasn’t all that anyways. The number of times your friends reassure you that your thirties are the new twenties only brings you mild comfort. Glancing at the crowd tearing up the dancefloor, you can’t help being envious of their youth.

Maybe it’s your buzz talking. You’re not one to feel sorry for yourself, especially about something as inevitable as aging. Thirty is young. Who cares if you’re the only one in your inner circle who’s single, unmarried, or childless? There’s no shame in it. You’re sick of women being scrutinized each year they get older for not doing what society tells them they should do. Who the fuck cares if you don’t have a ring on your finger or haven’t popped a baby out your vagina yet? It isn’t on your radar, and that’s perfectly fine. Men don’t get this much shit for remaining bachelors well into their forties or fifties, why should you?

You fidget with the glittery Dirty 30! sash you wear over your little black dress. A shimmering tiara sparkles on top of your head to complete your ensemble. Your friend’s voice in your ear snaps you out of your thoughts. “Hey birthday girl, how’s it going?”

Smiling, you hold your half empty glass up towards the middle. “Good. Thanks so much for coming out to celebrate tonight!” You’re ready to chug the rest of your liquor so you can head to the dancefloor. The other three women in your group cheers, clinking their drinks with yours.

You’re about to suggest dancing when your friend says, “Shall we call it a night?”

It catches you off guard. The music just started and it’s not even midnight yet. You’re not ready to go back to the real world; it’s your special day until you fall asleep, which you don’t plan to do for a few more hours. You’re silent though, listening as the other girls repeat a similar sentiment.

“My husband is waiting for me at home, so yes.”

“And my babies have an early morning play date tomorrow!”

Your friend beside you turns to you and asks, “Ready to go?”

Contemplating for a moment, you respond, “I think I might stay, actually. Have another drink or two.”

They stare at you bewildered, surprised you want to be here alone, which is unusual for you. “Are you sure?” they clarify.

“Yeah! Go ahead, I’ll be fine! I’m a big girl now,” you joke, standing up to hug them. They kiss you on the cheek, greeting you one last happy birthday before leaving together to go home to their husbands and children.

Craving another drink, you abandon your booth to approach the bar. You order your favorite: a vodka cranberry, your comfort cocktail throughout your 20s. A reminder that you’re still the same you despite moving up a decade.

You close your tab, promising yourself this is your last, and go back to your table. It’s now occupied by an older man in a black coat, sipping on amber liquor. Annoyed, and slightly intrigued, you sit opposite of him in the same booth. He lifts his head up slowly, noticing you.

“Hi there,” you greet him. Even in the dim light, the stitched scar on his left cheek stands out. The metal piercings on his ears glisten, the strobe lights reflecting off them from the dancefloor.

“Can I help you?” His voice is low and raspy, either naturally or from the alcohol.

“I was sitting here earlier. The other tables are all occupied, and I really don’t want to stand around on the dancefloor by myself. Can I sit here until I finish my drink? There’s plenty of room for the both of us.” You put on your most charming smile.

“Where are your friends? I’m sure you’d rather sit with them instead of with an old man like me.”

“They ditched me to go home. Besides, it looks like you could use the company.” You tip your cocktail into your mouth, keeping your gaze on him.

He watches you, skeptical. “How old are you?”

You glance down at your sash, which is now twisted so that the answer to his question is on your back where he can’t see. You grin at him. “Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a woman her age?”

He hums, unamused. “I’m not keen on hanging out with girls in their 20s. Not really my style. Not tonight, anyways.”

“How old do you think I am?”

Narrowing his eyes at your tiara, he responds, “You’re wearing a crown, drinking a cranberry vodka at a bar that plays this shit music. I’d say you’re 23.”

This amuses you, like getting asked for your ID does, which is becoming rarer nowadays. It’s flattering.

“Hey, you’re here too. The only difference is that you’re drinking a whiskey,” you tease him, pointing at his glass.

“In my defense, I finished work nearby and this shitty cesspool was the closest bar I could find.” He takes a swig of his alcohol. “So, am I right?”

Sliding the sash to face him, you answer, “Nope. You’re wrong. Lucky for you, today is my birthday. And I just turned thirty.”

He cracks a smile at this, giving you a flutter below your belly. You’re not typically into older men; however, this guy has piqued your interest. There’s something about him that is alluring. Exciting.

“Happy birthday,” he says, swallowing the rest of his whiskey. “Get anything good?”

“No. But the night’s not over yet.” You’re full-on flirting now, not at all ashamed of how brazen you’re acting. Fuck it. You only turn thirty once, right?

There’s distance between you, but the tension is so thick, you could smell the bold scent of liquor coating his lips. He leans closer, a wicked glint in his eyes. “Well, I guess it’s my responsibility now to give you something good.”

~~~

Minutes later, you’re in the back of the cab, riding towards an address he mutters to the driver. He holds you, interlocking his fingers with yours, peering out his window in silence. You focus on your entwined hands resting on the middle seat, the intimacy of it all distracting you from the fact that you’re about to hook up with this attractive stranger.

The driver arrives to a swanky apartment complex. Once inside, Kishibe doesn’t give you enough time to marvel at the beautiful interior of the room. In an instant, his lips are on yours, both palms cupping your cheeks assertively. Breath hot and chalky from the mint you saw him savor earlier in the car. It barely masks the lingering taste of that cigarette you witnessed him drag waiting for your ride. He didn’t have the same type of smoker’s breath that you’re sick of from your coworkers. With him, you don’t mind it at all.

His hand trails down your neck, thumb carefully brushing over a pulse point right below your chin. His skin is rough and calloused compared to yours. The scraggly facial hair scattered along his jaw is scratchy on your cheeks.

He breaks the kiss, gazing at you while he removes his overcoat, hanging it on the rack in the corner, kicking his shoes off in the process. There’s a small bar cart in the kitchen, where he pours himself a whiskey. At the freezer, he reaches for the ice, dropping three cubes into the dark liquor with a plop. You stand still, observing him, nervous and thrilled about what this mysterious man will do to you tonight.

At the couch, he takes a seat, thighs spread wide, his wrist hanging low between them, gripping the top of the glass with his fingertips. “Come here,” he beckons.

Removing your heels quickly and abandoning your purse, you step towards him, ready to sit beside him until he demands, “No. Not there.” He pats his thigh with his free hand. “Here.”

Your body trembles with lust as you straddle him, pussy pulsing against his muscular thigh. He studies you, from your hazy stare down to him between your legs, savoring his cold liquor all the while. You gulp loudly, obediently waiting for his next command.

Gently removing the crown atop your head and tossing it aside, he asks, “What do you want from me, princess? It’s your birthday after all.” Hearing him call you princess gives you a rush you can no longer contain. You start moving on his thigh, riding it to feel the glorious sensations on your clit.

His chuckle vibrates through his chest as you grasp at his collar to hold you steady. “This is what you want? Okay. Take what you need. Come on my thigh. I’ll watch.” His gravelly voice in your ear makes you ride him harder, grinding against him until your creamy mess is soaking through the thin fabric of your panties. You clench his tie, loosening it around his neck. He continues to watch you, sipping on his booze, enjoying his own private show.

Once the glass is empty except for the melting ice, he sets it down on the coffee table, pulling you in closer, his hand behind your neck. Lightly blowing cool, whiskey breath along your lips. You lean forward to kiss him, his tongue slipping past to explore your needy mouth. The longing for his touch on every inch of your body grows stronger by the second as you moan into the kiss, bouncing on his leg.

“Can you come by yourself? Or do you need my tongue on it? I can lick it up real good if you’ll let me.” His obscene suggestion surprises you, as if you weren’t already performing lewd acts on his lap. You tug at his tie to pull him into another fierce kiss before sitting next to him on the couch, lifting the hem of your dress up to reveal your wet undergarments.

“I’ll let you do whatever you want to me. But I’m not calling you Daddy,” you tease, spreading wide for him.

His voice is low in his throat, kneeling on the carpet, face positioned between your thighs. “Good, because I prefer to be called Master.”

You roll your eyes at him, to which he responds, “What? You don’t like that? I bet I’ll have you screaming it all night long.”

This has you speechless as he drifts towards you, staring at the wet spot soaking through your lingerie. “Look how fucking wet you are for me.” He hooks his fingers around the fabric, stretching it to the side to expose your sopping cunt. Leaning in closer, he flicks his tongue gently onto your clit, causing you to squirm above him.

He’s testing the waters, starting slow to gauge your limit. It’s gentle at first, toying with your bud until it’s plump and sensitive. Until your wanton moans are bouncing off the walls of his big, fancy apartment. There’s no doubt that he knows exactly what he’s doing. It’s obvious this man has years of experience beyond you. Having this stranger swirl his tongue on the most intimate parts of your body makes you weak in the knees. This is the first time all night that you’re thankful to be turning thirty. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be in this apartment, getting wrecked and torn apart by him.

“I’ve always wanted a plaything I can ruin,” he breathes out, finally wrapping his lips around you. “Will you be my pretty plaything tonight?” He surrounds your clit, drawing an erotic whimper from your mouth.

“Fuck, Kishibe. Yes. Use me as your plaything, fuck.”

He eats you out noisily, emphasizing every wet sound his mouth makes on your swollen bud. Several times, he spits on it, spreading his saliva up and down your pussy, plunging his tongue into your entrance to get it lubricated with his own drool.

“You’re fucking drenched down here. When’s the last time you let a grown man eat you out like this? I bet you’ve never been with someone like me, huh?”

You shake your head, swiping through his hair, spreading yourself wider for him. “Never.”

“I can tell,” he says, slipping his middle and ring finger into your entrance. “So fucking wet for me. I love it.” He pumps into you, curling his digits just right, resonating all the way down to your toes. His lips latch onto your clit, drinking you up to quench his insatiable thirst.

“Hold these for me,” he says, guiding your fingers to your panties. “Want to stroke my cock while I eat this gorgeous pussy out.” You hear the unbuckling of his belt, the sound of him shoving his fist into his slacks to jerk off. The vibrations from his moans tickle your skin as he nuzzles himself deeper into your arousal, practically drowning in it, flattening his tongue to smear his warm saliva all over. You whine in ecstasy, heedless of attracting any neighboring attention to your explicit blubbering.

“Come on my face,” he muffles, too busy lapping up your clit to pull away, fingers pumping in and out of you, shiny and sleek with your slick.

It doesn’t take much longer for you to reach your orgasm, pleasure jolting through your body while he works you until you’re overstimulated, twitching from the euphoria. He laughs softly, face glistening with your essence, taking a seat beside you. You watch him in a daze as he sticks his cum-coated fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean. “You want a taste, too?”

You nod, disoriented from your intense climax. He drags your bottom lip down using the pad of his thumb, mumbling, “Open.”

Obediently, you stick your tongue out for him, knowing fully well what he’s about to do. Your pussy throbs again, ready to be fucked for real by this provocative stranger you were so fortunate to meet tonight.

He grazes your open tongue, then spits in your mouth. “Swallow,” he demands, voice husky with desire. You do, making sure to gulp loudly, incredibly aroused and needy for his cock.

“Show me,” he whispers, opening his own mouth to mimic you. “Ah.”

You show him your tongue again, a dumb expression on your face while he inspects. Satisfied, he grunts, “Fuck, you’re bad. You’re a bad girl, aren’t you?” He reaches down to your soaked panties clinging to you. “Take these off.”

He slides out of his trousers, revealing briefs that barely conceal his obvious bulge. As you slip out of your underwear, he removes his, displaying his impressive cock. “You going to ride this cock now?”

Without a word, you nod. You’re already anticipating how fucking amazing he’s going to feel inside you. Your brain is jumbled with naughty thoughts of him taking you in all positions in every room of his apartment.

There’s a hungry gleam in his eyes as he watches you mount him. You hoist your dress up, stripping it from your body. He unclasps your bra, baring your breasts to him while he still wears his dress shirt and tie. For some reason, you want him to keep it on. Get it nice and dirty with slick and sweat.

You reach behind you to position him at your entrance. Once aligned, you slowly sink onto his cock, allowing yourself a few seconds to adjust to his size. Given his stature, it’s not surprising how big he is, both in length and girth. When you bottom out, he lets out a raspy fuck, holding your ass to squeeze your plush cheeks. “I’m ready whenever you are, princess. Like I said, take what you need from me. Milk me dry. I know you want to.”

Spurred by his provocative encouragement, you ride him, rocking your hips back and forth onto his lap, gripping his cock tight with your wet cunt. Forehead pressed to his, lids closed, jaw hanging open, experiencing the best fuck of your life. With a brief glance, you catch him watching you, a similar dazed expression on his face. You bounce on him faster, his dick pounding into you over and over again, determined to feel every inch you possibly can.

“Fuck, Kishibe, feels so fucking good,” you moan, directing his fingers down to your clit. “I want to come all over this cock. Make me come, Master.”

Bingo. His eyes widen as soon as it slips from your mouth. It’s the magic word. The trigger.

Without hesitation, he brushes his thumb ruthlessly onto your swollen bud. “Say it again,” he demands, pressing it hard as he massages it, eyes wild with lust.

“Fuck, make me come, Master. Make me come.” You’re riding him so fucking good, couch creaking, clutching his shoulders tight, his carnal stare locked on your every movement.

“Tell me when you’re close,” he growls.

“I’m close, I’m close!”

Suddenly, he pulls out, cock covered in your arousal, wet and stiff against his abdomen. Strings of slick cling to the hem of his dress shirt. You’re about ready to yell at him for teasing you. Before you can, he stands up, grabbing your wrist to lead you into the bedroom. His breathing is heavy as he points to the bed, hastily removing his clothes. “On your knees, ass up. I’m going to fuck you so good. Make you squirt all over my fucking sheets.”

The anger immediately subsides and you’re back to being eager again, knowing damn well that he means every fucking word he says. You do as he commands, wiggling your ass to entice him. He chuckles behind you. “I’m sorry for denying you earlier. I just really want to see this ass bounce on my cock like this.” He teases you with his tip, tapping your clit, sliding it along your pussy lips.

“You’re not forgiven,” you pout, growing impatient.

Placing a soft kiss on your lower back, he laughs again. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about this stranger you met mere hours ago, it’s that he is a man of his word.

He guides his cock into you slowly, stretching you little by little until you’re squeezing him, his entire length inside you. “Look at you, sucking me in again like you were made for me.” He starts thrusting, holding you steady to penetrate you deeper.

“So fucking good!” you cry out, fists bunched on his silky sheets, drool leaking from the corner of your mouth.

“I know, princess. It’s amazing for me too.” His heavy balls slap your damp skin with every brutal thrust of his hips, fucking you hard, dipping into your sweet spot until you’re woozy with pleasure. “You take it so good. So fucking sexy.” He tightens his grip on you, increasing his pace. “So fucking beautiful.”

You throw your ass back, arching your spine to get the perfect angle. With your cheeks bouncing obscenely against his thighs, you beg, “Spank me, Master. Spank me like a bad girl.”

Not wasting a second, his rough palm connects with your ass, the loud smack ringing in your ears. He spanks you again and again, your pussy clenching him tighter while you continue to thrust back onto his cock. You’re about ready to burst, desperate to reach your second orgasm after being denied earlier. You play with your puffy clit, electricity rippling through your body upon contact. Whimpering, you rub your bud faster as he pounds into you, cursing under his breath.

“Fuck,” he moans, staring at your ass jiggle after each fresh slap he delivers. “Come on my cock, princess. That’s it. Get it creamy. Just like that, fuck.”

Waves of pleasure sweep over you, the intensity of it causing you to tremble before him. In the midst of your climax, you plead for him to finish inside you, greedy for his cum. It doesn’t take long for him to fill you up, staying nestled deep in you as he releases his warm load, letting out a husky fuck.

He pulls out, his warm release leaking from your pussy, dripping onto his sheets. He ogles at the pornographic sight in front of him, pleased with himself.

“Like what you see?” you tease, lowering your torso and relaxing on the bed.

“You are a naughty, naughty girl,” he says, collapsing beside you. “Can’t believe I let you seduce me.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault? You were the one who offered to give me something good for my birthday.”

He raises a brow at you. “Did I succeed?”

You gaze at him, properly examining his appearance. Scruffy facial hair, eyes that are perpetually tired, the striking scar aligned with his frown. You find yourself wondering what his story is; someone this fetching must have a story.

“Considering the mess we made, I would say you exceeded my expectations.” You lay your palm on his firm chest, his now steady heartbeat lightly thumping against your fingertips.

“I’m glad to hear I wasn’t a disappointment.” He doesn’t take his gaze off you. Normally, you’d be intimidated by such intense eye contact. With him, it’s different. You feel safe. He places his hand on top of yours, rugged thumb gently caressing the skin of your knuckles. The two of you stay like this, enjoying each other’s presence in an easy silence.

“We can’t do this again,” he mutters, finally looking away from you. He turns onto his back, staring up at the ceiling, your hand still snug under his.

“Why not?” The shift in energy surprises you. This is not the typical pillow talk you’re accustomed too.

“I’ll keep wanting to see you if we keep this up,” he admits. Although it’s a sweet sentiment, he’s deciding to end it here and now, not even waiting until the morning like in a typical one-night-stand.

Matching his candid demeanor, you ask, “What’s wrong with wanting to see me again?” A strange feeling of unease swells in your chest, anxious for whatever truth he’s about to reveal.

He takes a breath before explaining, “I’m a Devil Hunter. The best in the world. My job is very dangerous. A young woman like yourself shouldn’t get attached to me. My life is expendable.” He avoids you while he speaks, eyes laser focused on the ceiling, barely blinking. It’s as if he doesn’t want to say it; rather, it’s part of a script, forced to recite the lines like it’s standard procedure. How often has he had to deliver this sober spiel to his ex-lovers? You start to pity him, speculating how detached he must remain to the outside world strictly because of his risky profession.

You continue to stare at him, letting the information sink it. The air is thick with a serious tension. It’s a sudden switch from the wild romp you just experienced. Choosing not to pester him further, you decide to lighten the mood. You scoot towards him, mouth skimming his ear, muttering, “Well, l didn’t really like you anyways.” The cold metal of his piercings contrast the soft warmth of your lips.

He turns to you again, the tension in his brows easing slowly as he gives you a small smirk. “Oh yeah?”

You nuzzle your nose against his. “Yeah.”

“Good. It’s better this way,” he says, planting a kiss on the forehead.

Sighing, you ask, “Can I at least spend the night?”

“Of course. I’ll even cook you breakfast tomorrow morning.”

“I hope that doesn’t mean a cup of coffee with a splash of whiskey and a couple cigarettes,” you joke.

He chuckles. “I’ll throw in some eggs for protein, does that work?”

“Sure. I’ll take whatever I can get, since this is the last time we’ll be seeing each other.”

There’s a small smile on his lips as he gazes at you. A minute passes and he reaches for you, grazing your cheek delicately. You feel comfortable in bed with him. Protected. You snuggle into his chest, his arms wrapping you into a bear hug. Cozy in his embrace, you listen to his rhythmic breathing, lulling you to sleep.

~~~

In the morning, you wake up alone, tucked under the covers, clothed only in a dress shirt, barely buttoned. The bedroom door is wide open, the sound of a pan scraping on iron ringing in your ears and the inviting smell of food cooking wafting from the kitchen.

You spot a pack of baby wipes on the drawer next to you, noticing that your body is fresh and clean, opposite the sticky mess you fell asleep to. Next to it is a brand-new toothbrush and toothpaste. With these items in hand, you tip-toe into the bathroom, appreciating his thoughtfulness.

When you’re done, you study his bedroom for the first time, and probably last. There are no pictures hung anywhere, no personal touch to anything. Only small traces of a man whose entire existence is his job. Several ties scattered on his dresser next to a metal flask. A mini calendar on his nightstand with random scribblings of future work commitments. Hamper in the corner of the room, filled to the brim with white dress shirts, black slacks, and a couple of mismatched argyle socks. You’re slightly tempted to investigate some drawers to see the type of weapons a Devil Hunter of his caliber carries, but you don’t.

You lean against the doorframe, watching him in the kitchen. He’s in a plain white t-shirt with navy-blue pajama pants. As promised, he is cooking a batch of scrambled eggs over the stove, a steaming mug of coffee in one hand, spatula in the other. Looking domestic and sexy as hell. His words replay in your mind. You shouldn’t get attached to someone like me. You almost regret sleeping with him, knowing you’ll miss him after you leave.

Quietly, you stroll towards him until he notices you. When he does, he takes a sip of coffee and mutters, “Morning, princess.”

Positioned behind him, you wrap your arms around his waist, raising your heels to place a gentle kiss on the back of his neck. It’s only now that you realize how much taller he is than you. “Good morning, handsome. This is a pleasant surprise.”

“I told you I’d cook you breakfast, didn’t I?” He cranes his neck to face you, smirking.

“You did. I’m pleased to see you keep your promise,” you tell him, resting your cheek on his back. “You’re truly a man of your word. I think that deserves a reward.” You slide your thumbs under the waistband of his pajama bottoms, teasing him.

“If you tempt me, you won’t be able to taste this delicious meal I prepared for you,” he comments, setting his coffee mug down the counter and turning off the burner. His hand covers yours, maneuvering it over the growing bulge in his pants.

“Maybe I’m craving something else for breakfast.” You start palming his erection, suddenly hungry for him rather than the food.

He turns to face you, looking at you up and down in his dress shirt, your legs clenched together to hide your arousal. Still smirking, he says, “You’re making this much harder than it needs to be.” He slowly pushes you against the counter, running his fingers up your inner thigh, spreading your legs to expose your wet cunt.

You moan, anticipating another round of intense fucking, this time in his kitchen. It makes you want to christen every part of his apartment.

“How are you this fucking wet for me already?” He whispers, rubbing his thumb on your throbbing clit. “You’re so sexy, it’s driving me insane.”

“Kishibe,” you breath out, struggling to steady yourself. “Fuck.”

“I got you. Get on the counter for me, princess. Spread those legs so I can lick that pussy clean.”

With his hands on your waist guiding you, you hop up, opening wide for him. Knees bent and body folded forward, he starts licking your clit, palming his erection through his pants. You come within minutes, gushing over his tongue as it glides along your slit, nose digging firmly onto your swollen bud.

“Fuck me, Kishibe. Want that big cock inside me. Want you to fill me up again with your cum.” You hop back down, turning around and lifting the hem of the dress shirt past your ass, ready to get railed right there on the countertop.

“Not like this,” he murmurs, kissing you on the cheek. “Wait for me in my room. We’re going to have breakfast in bed together.”

Minutes later, a tray with a plate full of eggs, toast, and bacon set on top is temporarily forgotten as the two of you fuck on the other side of the bed. Him sitting up, back pressed to the headboard, you riding him until he spills inside you, causing you to orgasm again all over him.

You slump forward, resting your head on his shoulder, tired and satiated from another amazing fuck. Attempting to slide off him, he kisses you on the lips, his grip firm on your waist, unyielding. “Keep my cock inside you. Can you do that for me?”

In your blissful state, all you can do is nod, getting comfortable on his lap. He reaches for a slice of bacon on the tray, letting you take the first bites before he finishes it, doing the same for a piece of buttered toast. He feeds you forkfuls of scrambled eggs, using the same utensil for himself. It’s pleasantly intimate for two people who just met. Playing the role of a long-term couple, indulging in simple delights together, like breakfast in bed.

Plate cleared, both your bellies full of nourishment, you stay in this position, kissing each other leisurely, no rush to separate. He whispers your name, fondling your breasts through the fabric of his dress shirt that you’ve made yours. He repeats it a few more times, relishing how it feels on his lips before he never has to utter it again.

It’s bittersweet, knowing it’s ending as soon as it begun. You have no reason to be so smitten with him. You’re two people who hardly know each other. Still, you find yourself not wanting to say goodbye yet. Something’s there. A tiny spark flickering in the distance. Maybe you’re one of many women he’s done this with before. Maybe you’re nothing special. But in this fleeting moment, you let yourself believe it’s real.

The two of you reluctantly part after an especially long, passionate kiss. You dismount him, grabbing the wipes to clean up the mess that was made earlier. He gives you a smooch on the forehead before getting out of bed to exit the room, returning in less than a minute to hand you your outfit from last night. You briefly recall carelessly discarding it all over his living room floor right before you pounced on him. Is it too soon to consider that a fond memory? It hasn’t even been 24 hours and you’re reminiscing about him already.

He leaves you alone in the bedroom to change. Before you undress, you bring the sleeves of the shirt to your nose and inhale deeply, memorizing his scent. You almost want to keep this shirt as proof that this happened. That Kishibe is real.

Back in your black dress, you sit at the edge of the bed, waiting for his return. When he walks in, he points at the sash and tiara next to you on the bed. “You’re not going to wear that?”

Shrugging, you respond, “It’s no longer my birthday, so it feels silly wearing it. Just toss it.”

You check your phone, estimating the time of arrival for the ride you requested. Any minute now, they’ll be here, ending your short-lived tryst. He offers to drop you off, but you refuse, not bothering to explain that doing that will result in you dragging him into your own apartment and keeping him a willing hostage for another few hours. It’ll only make it more difficult to not get attached. He doesn’t question it, probably understanding this himself.

The ping from the app chimes through your phone. You stand up, smiling at him, swinging your purse over your shoulder. “That’s my ride.”

He walks you to the door, waiting for you to strap on your heels. Once they’re on, you smile. “I guess this is it. Thank you for a fun night.”

“Thank you too. This was fun.” It could be wishful thinking, but you hear a waver in his voice. Is he a little bit sad too?

You face the door, ready to turn the knob, when you feel his grip on your wrist. He spins you towards him, kissing you feverishly, his hand caressing your cheek, the other behind your neck. Yearning for one more moment of intimacy with you. He breaks away, resting his forehead against yours, eyes shut as he says goodbye with one last whisper of your name. You avoid his gaze as you exit, walking out of his life.

It’s better this way.

#kishibe #kishibe csm #chainsaw man #kishibe smut #kishibe x reader #kishibe x you #kishibe x y/n #chainsaw man smut #csm smut #csm kishibe #kishibe brainrot #chainsaw man kishibe #dirty thirty

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strangermarvelss · 2 years

Text

the pain of letting you go- e.m (pt 7)

Pairing: Ex!Eddie Munson x Ex!AFAB!Reader

Summary: eddie and you begin to patch things up a bit, leading to something unexpected happening as you bid him goodnight

Warnings: SMUT 18+ (van sex, oral [f], fingering, p in v sex, praise kink), confessions, some wholesomeness, angst, eddie being an idiot, sad reader, it’s not a nice ending

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: part seven of the series is here! thank you to everyone for the continued support! i was so excited to write this chapter and ngl some of y'all might not like it but oh well ! reminder: if the topic is sensitive for you, please do not read. enjoy! :) -sava

series masterlist

november, 1990

You watch Eddie scoop a sleeping Christopher in his arms, flashing you a smile as he rounds the corner of the couch and making his way upstairs to tuck him in. You feel a smile of your own creep onto your face, turning and walking into the kitchen to clean the dishes from the family dinner you prepared tonight. For the first time in months, you felt happy that things between you and Eddie were civil, and that his attitude had completely changed from when the two of you started your separation.

It’s been a month since Eddie took you home from your drunken night at the bar, where you let it slip that you and Steve had been intimate and you just emotionally vomited all over him. Luckily for you, things have gotten better since that night, with Eddie reaching out to you more, offering to take Christopher more if you needed more alone time, and being emotionally available for you and your son, without any hostility residing between the two of you when you would child swap. It felt nice to be on better terms with him, finally feeling a breath of fresh air instead of impending dread when he would come over.

You even started having family dinners as of last week, as requested by your son. He was taking notice at the polite and friendly behavior going on between you and Eddie, and you noticed how much happier the young boy was because of it. Things around you were changing, and with Thanksgiving just next week, you were optimistic about having a nice, drama-free family gathering with your parents, Eddie, and Uncle Wayne, not letting the separation and drama from the year ruin the mood of the holidays.

Lathering up the dishes, you scrub away any food residue and remnants of the meatloaf you prepared for the night. The weekly dinners also gave you an excuse to cook again, usually opting for something quick so you could have some kind of free time to yourself after getting off a long day at work, then coming home and jumping right into mom duty. Usually you had Eddie here to help with getting Christopher down for bed and doing the other household tasks, but thanks to the separation, it left you to doing all the chores and being full time mommy.

Putting the dishes in the drying rack, you pat your hands dry and exit the kitchen, rounding the corner to see Eddie plopping down the stairs with a smile on his face. He always had a gift with getting Christopher back to sleep so fast, something you always wanted to pick his brain about and learn all the tips he had to share.

“He’s down for the count. No big deal or anything,” he tells you, a smirk dancing on his lips as he leans against the banister. You chuckle to yourself and cross your arms, looking up at him with a genuine smile. He missed seeing that smile, it was always one of his favorite features about you, and seeing you so down these past few months made his heart twinge.

A comfortable silence falls between you for a moment, just exchanging looks between one another and then with the ground or ceiling. It was finally the time in the night where you two parted ways, and it was your least favorite part of the night. There was the part of you that was still mad at him for everything that’s gone down, but every other inch of you was wanting to scream for him to stay. The couch was comfy enough for a full nights rest, and Christopher would love to spend the mornings with him again. Plus he always made the best coffee, and that was another part of having him around you enjoyed.

The two of you walk towards the door, Eddie grabbing his jacket from the rack that sat next to the exit. He slings the leather over his shoulders and loops his arms in the holes, smiling at you as his hair flips from the inside and rests against his shoulders. You bite your lip and cross your legs before extending your arms and wrapping them around him, taking in his musk as he returns the gesture.

“Well I better not keep you from Shirley any longer,” you tell him, digging your hands deep in your pockets as you pull away. Eddie bites his lip for a moment and looks away from you, his brows furrowed a bit. You knew him well enough to know when there was something going on in his mind, wanting to say something but not sure how, or even if he should. “Eddie? Everything okay?”

“Yeah. It’s just, um…Shirley is a non-issue now,” he reveals, turning back to you slowly. You open your mouth to speak, but feel nothing come out as your brain stops momentarily. They broke up?

They broke up.

“W-Why’s that?” you finally muster out, taking your hands out of your pockets and crossing them in front of you.

“Well, for one, she was using me for my ‘status’, and apparently thought my life outside of Corroded Coffin was boring and not worth her time,” he explains, using air quotes and gesturing his hands as he spoke. You mentally laugh a little, knowing she was not fond of the idea that Eddie had a kid and wasn’t always in rockstar mode. “And also…I’m a complete idiot for letting you go.”

You feel your breath hitch in your throat as Eddie’s words leave his mouth, his eyes staring deeply into yours as the sincerity and depth of his words hit you. Months of heartbreak and sadness, night after night of crying your eyes out into the pillow that he used to lay his head on, all came down to regret and jealously on his side? You were truly at a loss for words.

“Eddie-“ you let out, shaking your head as you shift your weight from one foot to another, still trying to wrap your head around the whole scene that was playing before you.

“No, Y/N, I just need to get this off my chest. I’ve been a complete asshat to you and Chris for months, and that night you slapped me was a real wake up call for me.”

“Sorry about that,” you butt in, kind of lying. It was pretty freeing to lay the hit down.

“No, don’t be. I totally deserved it, I really don’t blame you, it knocked some sense into me. Y/N, I don’t know what I was thinking when I asked for the separation. I had a good thing going for me and I can’t believe I let my own idiotic reasons keep me from seeing that. I know I was completely out of line when I said those things about you moving on with Steve, and I’m not sure where you stand with him currently, but I still love you with my whole heart. I’ve been trying to find the right time to tell you within the past few weeks we’ve been seeing more of each other, so I’m putting my heart out there for you.”

You sigh, running a hand over your face and looking at him with confusion seeped into your expression. Eddie’s chocolate brown eyes were looking deep into yours, his brows furrowed and lip jutting out ever so slightly. You knew the words he spoke were genuine, you always knew when he was being sincere. It doesn’t help the fuzziness in your head.

“I don’t understand why you need to say this all now. Why now Eddie?” You question, crossing your arms and shifting all your weight onto one leg.

“Because I saw how close I was to losing you for good, and I know it is stupid as shit to say I was jealous when I have no right to be, but I was. You were the only person to ever truly love me, and letting a momentarily lapse in judgement get in the way of the most pure and beautiful thing I’ve ever known was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done,” he continues to explain, taking your hands in his and sending you a pleading look with his eyes. You feel a frown form on your lips, your eyes darting to the floor as the intensity of his gaze becomes too much for you all of a sudden. He lets out a sigh, breaking free of your grasp after a few minutes of silence. “I don’t expect you to ever forgive me, but if I have to spend the rest of my life making it up to you and showing you that you’re worth any kind of hurt I deserve, I will do it and take it with a smile.”

You turn your attention as you watch the door open, Eddie’s figure slinking out and closing it lightly, catching the sad expression on his face as he makes his exit. Even his body language was sending a stabbing pain through your heart, shoulders slumped and tears on the brink of spillage from his lash line. You stand there for a second, letting his words sink in. Eddie's attitude towards you was so sour at the start of this whole new situation between you, and now it’s completely changed. Did he really mean what he said, about wanting to make it up to you? Did he really regret calling the whole thing off?

You open the front door of your house and see Eddie opening the driver’s door to his van. Stepping out into the cold November air, you speed walk to him, watching him turn to you. You let out a sigh as you finally approach him, inches away and looking him deep in the eyes.

“Did you mean everything that you said back there? You’re not fucking with me or anything? You want…you want to try this again?” You ask timidly, the vulnerability in your voice evident. Eddie’s soft eyes leave yours momentarily, looking at your hands as he takes them back in his and giving them a squeeze.

“I’m not messing around this time. I love you Y/N, you’re it for me sweetheart. I know I have a shit ton of making up to do, but I really want to try it again,” he answers, a soft smile etched onto his face.

You waste no time closing the gap between you, your lips pressing against his. The familiar taste of stale cigarettes and minty fresh gum flood your senses, the two things you didn’t think you’d ever long to inhale the scent of again. You feel Eddie’s hands pull you closer, snaking around your waist and holding your back firmly. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you press yourself to him as close as possible, throwing caution to the wind and feeling overcome with the need to just be on him

“Eddie-“ you whimper out, feeling his lips move from yours to your neck. You feel heat creep up your neck and onto your cheeks as you take in your very public surrounding, thinking of what your neighbors would be getting a show to if you stayed here. “Eddie, stop.”

He breaks away from you and search your face with concern. Did he hurt you on accident? Did you change your mind about wanting to start over? “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is great! I just…I just don’t think the neighbors want a front row seat to, um…this,” you say, hiding your face in his chest, nose brushing against the patches that accompanied his vest. He leans back and takes your hand, walking you towards the back of his van and opening the door for you.

You felt like a teenager again. Sure, your teenage years weren’t so long ago, but the fact that you were sitting in Eddie’s van with a wet spot growing in your panties really brought you back. Eddie shuts the door and crawls his way to you, slotting himself between your legs and presses himself against you, running a hand along your face and biting his bottom lip.

“This work better for you sweetheart?” He questions, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. You nod, grabbing the lapels of his vest and pulling him down. You lips connect once again, lips melting into one another as you feel his chapped lips glide against yours. The man always had an issue with keeping up with the consistency that was chapstick.

You worm your hands under his vest, attempting to tug it off his figure. He gets the message and helps you guide the denim off his body, tossing it towards the doors of the van. You tug at the hem of your shirt and throw it on top of the vest. Eddie’s hand immediately fly to your breasts, kneading the lumps and eliciting a moan from you. His dexterous fingers slide to your upper back, unclasping your bra in an instant and freeing you from the restrictive confines.

Eddie lets out a low moan, taking the pert nubs between his calloused digits and rolling them gently. A long low whine leaves your lips, hands rubbing his exposed biceps. The lack of physical contact you’ve desperately been craving over the past few months had been killing you, so being this close with Eddie again, your hands exploring each other like you’ve been touch starved your entire lives, erupting a fire deep inside you that you didn’t know resided there.

Your hands fly to his belt, unbuckling it in a flash and guiding the black denim off his body. He lays next to you for a moment, kicking the pants from his ankles and allowing them to pool at his feet, softly kicking it towards the growing pile of clothes. You take the opportunity to unbutton your own jeans, lifting your hips and sliding the fabric off your body. Eddie’s eyes linger on your bare thighs, traveling down as you slide the rest of your pants off of you and flying towards the rest of your clothes.

Eddie slots himself between your legs once again, his calloused hands running up your soft legs and resting on your hips as his lips make contact with your neck. You were mentally thanking yourself for the shower you took this morning, and all the preparation you did. Not that you had planned on jumping Eddie’s bones after family dinner tonight. It just felt nice to feel nice.

Your back arches at the feeling of Eddie’s lips traveling further south, brushing your collarbone and working his way down to the valley of your breasts. His hands caress your sides, the cool metal of his rings coming in contact with your hot skin, making you shiver at the touch. You feel the wet sensation of his tongue circle around your harden nipple, latching onto the bud and suckling it. Your hands fly to his hair, playing with the frizzy curls as you moan softly at the delightful feeling.

He readjusts himself and starts moving lower along you body, pressing kisses as he makes the journey. You feel a fluttering feeling in your tummy when he kisses your belly button, Eddie sending a smirk your way before moving to kiss your hips. He presses his nose into your mound, kissing your clothed heat and making you jolt.

“Eddie,” you whine, shifting a little as the cool metal brushes against your inner thigh. He shushes you softly, dragging out the sound as his fingers dip into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down your legs as you lift your ass just enough for the fabric to travel pass the curve. He takes the panties in his hands for a moment, sniffing them briefly before tossing them behind him, making you giggle at his silly behavior.

A trail of wet kisses are pressed along your thighs, the soft ends of Eddie’s long curls tickling you and enhancing the wonderful feelings he was pulling from you. Rubbing at your thighs, his tongue dives in, unable to resist your dripping cunt anymore. You bite back a loud moan, soft whimpers escaping your lips as you feel his tongue lick a broad stripe from your wanting hole to your swollen clit. You tangle your fingers in his long locks, tugging at the brown strands as his lips close around your pulsing bundle of nerves.

“Fuck you’re so soaked baby,” he lets out, the words sending vibrations through your cunt. You throw your head back as he continues his assault on your needy cunt, wrapping your legs around his face and all but crushing him between your legs. He moans into you, snaking his ring clad hand up your thigh and circling two fingers around your hole, probing ever so slightly.

“Need your fingers Eds. Please,” you whine, biting your lips and looking down at him. His eyes meet yours, a devilish smirk playing on his lips as he sinks the digits into your dripping pussy, the squelching sound of your juices filling the entire van, the lewd sounds down-right pornographic. There was something so erotic about Eddie’s head between your thighs that made you more wet that you ever thought. The long hair, his big brown doe eyes looking up at you as you fell apart at his tongue, it all just made your senses dialed up to 11.

“Takin’ my fingers so well baby. Let me hear your moans pretty girl,” he tells you, his lips latching to your clit once more and suckling the bundle of nerves as he begins thrusting his thick fingers in and out of you slowly. You close your eyes and lean your head back against the rough material of his van floor, letting the pleasure overcome you and moaning at the sensation.

He curls his fingers up and begins pressing against the special spot inside you, eliciting more squeals and moans from your lips as that familiar white hot feeling of bliss starts coiling in your tummy. Your eyes roll back into your head, small mutters of curses tumbling from your lips as the fastening pace of Eddie’s fingers moving in and out of you. The bubbling feeling of your orgasms is quick to dissipate however, letting out a frustrated groan as you look down at Eddie’s fleeting figure, smirking at you as he climbs up your body and planting a kiss on your lips, the taste of your slick coming in contact on your tongue.

“You’re not coming until my cock’s inside you sweetheart. That bit still hasn’t changed,” he whispers, taking your lips in his again. You melt into the kiss, feeling his tongue dance with yours and his hand finds purchase on your hips. You feel his leaking tip rubbing against your slick covered lips, one of Eddie’s hands snaking down to pump his cock a few times before lining up with your entrance. Pulling away, you shake your head and bring your hand up to comb through his hair.

“Do you happen to have a condom babe?” You ask timidly.

“Thought you were on the pill?” He questions, dipping down to latch his lips to your neck and beginning to leave a mark.

“Nope,” you say, popping the p as you spoke, tilting his head up so he could look at you. “I, um…haven’t really needed to be on it for the past few months.”

He nods, separating himself from your grasp and turning towards the pile of clothes resting at your feet, giving you a nice few of his ass. It was so round and pale, the view making you bite your lip. Leaning up a bit, you reach your hand out and give his bum a nice slap, earning an exaggerated moan from Eddie and a giggle falling from your lips. He turns back to you and slots himself between you again, his classic smirk plastered on his face as he holds the foil packet up to you.

He tears the packaging open with his teeth carefully, knowing one of the last time he did so, your son was brought into the world. He throws the packaging to side and glides the rubber onto his painfully hard cock. You rest your arms around his neck as he lines up with you again. His big brown eyes meet your own as he begins his descent into your waiting heat, low moans filling the van coming from both of you. His thick dick stretches you so good, hugging your gummy walls with every inch he continues to sink inside you.

“Fuck you feel so good baby,” he moans out, hand coming up to rest on one of your breasts and kneading the fleshy mound. Your hands cup his face as he bottoms out, pressing your lips to his as the two of you lay there for a moment so your pussy readjusts to his length.

“Forgot how good you stretch me Eds,” you let out, letting your hands fall to his chest before snaking them around to his back and giving it a scratch as he begins to thrust in and out of you. His mushroom tip dragging along your velvet walls felt as through you were on a cloud in heaven, if there was even a heaven to begin with. You almost forgot how good sex between the two of you was, even if months a part isn’t that long, but it was long for you.

The two of you were used to fucking like rabbits, which is probably how you ended up being a teenage mother in the first place. It was a constant need between the two of you, never stopping from keeping your hands off each other and the two of you even considered soundproofing your bedroom so you could spare your son any trauma from the lewd noises that would echo down the hall and spare his curiosity from causing him to see something he would later regret. You should’ve seen it coming when the touches became less frequent, and the sex becoming non-existent. But that was not what was happening right now.

His ring clad hand comes to rest on your cheek as the other pulls your leg up and wraps it around his waist, reaching deeper inside you and tickling the special spot that had you turning into a moaning mess every time. You weren’t able to form words, the only things coming from your supple lips were incoherent phrases and broken moans. Eddie’s lips dip down and bite at yours, little nibbles mixed with soft kisses as his spare hand reaches between where your bodies connected to circle your clit.

Bucking your hips against his, the pace Eddie previously set was becoming quicker, his cock barely leaving your cunt as he plows into you. The fiery feeling was bubbling in your stomach once again, the coil you knew all too well building and wanting to be snapped at any moment. Your nails dig into Eddie’s back as you match his thrusts, his hot breath fanning over you as he begins to chase his own high. You knew all the signs of when Eddie was going to finish, spending the better part of 8 years memorizing all the time you spent with one another.

“Fuck sweetheart, I’m not gonna last m-much longer,” he chokes out, his breath uneven and bangs sticking to his sweaty forehead. You nod, your mouth hung open as the pace on your clit gets faster, the swollen nub pulsing under his touch as you feel the tingling euphoria you loved begin spreading throughout your body. “You’re doing so g-good for me baby. Come for me, cover my cock in your sweet cum.”

That was enough for your body to be sent hurdling over the edge, a loud moan ripping through your body as you shake under Eddie’s form. He’s chuckling above you, proud of himself for allowing you to feel as good as you do. His pace remains the same, although his thrusts are becoming sloppier with every buck of his hips. You rub his back as you continue coming down from your high, feeling him still above you and empty his load into the condom, head buried in the crook of your neck as he moans your name in the prettiest pitch of his beautiful voice you’ve ever heard from him.

After a few moments of just laying on top of you, he pulls out of you with a sigh, the feeling of him leaving your cunt making a whine tumble from your lips. You can already feel the ache beginning to spread between your thighs, your spent pussy not having been through that kind of activity in so many months. But it was a nice kind of pain the resided within you, a familiar feeling you didn’t know you missed as much as you did.

Rolling over, Eddie lays next to you, clutching his vest as he rummages through it, fishing out a joint he pre-rolled before the dinner. He grabs his lighter and flicks a flame against the end, inhaling the drug with a content sigh. He offers you the joint, but you shake your head.

“I’ll pass, but thank you,” you say, curling up against him and running your fingers along his bare chest, twirling your index finger within one of his few chest hairs. You can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face as you take in your situation. The old habit of Eddie’s post-sex smoke just really hit home for you, allowing you to take in the events that just occurred. Not being with Eddie for these past few months felt awful and you longed for the embrace that you were soaking up right now. Eddie’s hand runs up and down your arm as he pulls you in more.

It felt right laying here with Eddie. The guilt that resided deep in your stomach after your foreplay adventures with Steve ate you alive for days, scared that the love between you and Eddie was official dead and put to rest six feet under. But maybe everything happens for a reason. Not sealing the deal with Steve allowed you to rekindle things with Eddie and have a new outlook on your marriage, trying again and finally allowing yourselves to be happy like you once were.

“Fuck I missed this,” he says after taking another puff of the joint, let out a low laugh which you knew was his tell of the drug already taking effect. You look up at him and see the glaze in his eyes, the whites turning to a light pink as he takes another puff, blowing it away from your face before leaning down to take your lips in his. “Can’t believe I ever doubted this.”

You pause for a moment, leaning back with your eyebrows twisted in confusion. “What do you mean?” You chuckle out.

“It’s soo stupid, really. Probably shouldn’t even tell you,” he says, bopping you on the nose with his finger. You sit up and pull away from his grasp, digging around for your bra and panties and pulling them on. You turn back to him, giving him a serious look. Eddie had a habit of not being serious when he was high, hell, you couldn’t blame him. But he also spoke his truth and his words already peaked your interest.

“Enlighten me Eds. Please?” You ask, a half hearted smile working its way onto your face. He rolls his eyes and sits up as well, throwing on his underwear to cover his softened cock.

“Okay, fine. So,” he begins, before taking another puff of his joint and blowing it out in the opposite direction of you. “Gareth, you know Gareth? Course you do. Anyway, right before summer began, he got it in my head that it wasn’t very ‘rockstar’ of me to already be married with a kid. On top of that, he thought it wasn’t ‘rockstar’ of me to have only been with one girl ever in my life. And so…I guess I thought I should be a rockstar,” he explains.

What. The. Actual. Fuck?

“I’m sorry?” You question as you cross your arms at him. He freezes for a moment before directing his attention back to you, a coy smile on his face.

“Yeah BUT it didn’t feel right after a while, not even with Shirley I felt 100% of the kind of feelings I have for you. Like I said, it was a stupid explanation and I’m so glad we’re back together-“

“I never said we were back together, Eddie,” you hiss out, rummaging for your shirt and pants and throwing them on your body. He sits back and now has his own eyebrows twisted in confusion. The gears in Eddie’s head were only working on half capacity, but he sensed such hostility coming from your end, leaving him a little speechless. Things had started to look up for you two, so why the sudden cold shoulder?

Then it clicks in his head, the haziness that was clogging his mind momentarily parted and he saw it as clear as day: he word vomited and told you the thing was trying to spare your feelings from.

“Y/N, wait I can explain what I meant,” he rushes out, stomping out the rest of his joint and reaching his arms out for you, but you put your hand out as you back yourself into the corner of his van near one of the double doors. Hot tears were filling your eyes as his words sank deep within you, the clarity of why he didn't want to be with you anymore finally coming to light, the thing you’d been begging for for almost 6 months.

“No Eddie, don't bother trying to 'charm' your way out of this one. I should have never even thought that you could change. Not back in high school, and not over these past few weeks. You risked tearing our family apart, so you could keep that bad boy reputation that you tried so hard to have in high school? Eddie, grow the fuck up. You can have a successful music career and have a fucking family, plenty of fucking rockstars now have that. You’re just a dick,” you scream at him, opening the door to the van and hopping out, slamming the door shut behind you.

You felt miserable, more miserable than you did when he told you he wanted the stupid separation in the first place. All so he could get his dick wet and have some more experience under his belt for the sake of a rockstar persona? The Eddie that helped you welcome your son into the world or the one you said ‘I do’ with would have never given up on you for some silly comment coming from Gareth that didn't even have any backbone to it.

Even you knew that Gareth was joking about the comment, because he always loved your and Eddie’s relationship. He’d tell you that constantly. You just can’t believe that Eddie was so insecure about his reputation and your relationship that he’d do something like this. Now you felt like a huge idiot, trying to jump back into things and sleeping with the biggest asshole you’ve ever met.

“Y/N wait!” Eddie shouts as he comes tumbling out of the van. His shirt was stuck over his shirt as you kept walking towards the front door. You almost made it through the threshold of your home and nearly had the door closed before his foot comes in between to stop it, a yelp coming from his lips. “Y/N please just hear me out.”

“I really think you’ve said enough Edward. You need to leave and just…you know what? Maybe you should go back to Shirley or whatever other girls you’ve been with instead of being here with me and Christopher. I’m done trying to think I was ever enough for you,” you tell him. You kick his foot from between the door and the doorway, sweeping the door to a close and locking both latches before sinking to the floor and letting the sob you kept in your chest nearly rip you in half.

You should’ve never given that freak a second chance.

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engie-ivy · 10 months

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(Upon popular request (really, thank you so much for the amazing response!), a second part to Your New Family! Where Sirius finds out who that stranger in the restroom actually was😁)

Part 1: Your New Family

Pouring his heart out in the loo might not have been Sirius’ best moment, but at least that kind stranger managed to somewhat reduce his anxiety about meeting Remus' parents. Until he sees Remus' father, that is.

Your New Son

As Sirius approaches their table, he sees Remus is not alone. An elderly woman has joined him. She has a round face framed with dark blond curls interspersed with streaks of grey, and big, honey-coloured eyes. Remus’ eyes.

Remus’ mum.

She must’ve gotten here early. Shite. Shite. And Sirius was at the loo the entire time! No doubt she already thinks he’s totally weird, dammit.

Sirius rushes towards them. “I’m so sorry I kept you waiting!”

“Oh my goodness,” Remus’ mum says as she turns around. “Could this be your Sirius?” She gets to her feet and takes Sirius’ hands in hers, but holds him at arm’s length so she can study him properly. “Look at you! Aren’t you a properly handsome young man! Remus has been going on about it, of course. ‘Mum, he’s so lovely. Mum, his hair is so pretty. Mum, his eyes are so nice.’ I assumed he was just smitten,” she turns back to Remus and smiles brightly at him. “But you really got yourself quite a looker, didn’t you, Remus?”

Remus beams at them proudly. “I sure did!”

Sirius, a little overwhelmed, wants to give a compliment in return. He’s aiming for something along the lines of ‘I always found Remus’ eyes beautiful, and now I can see who he gets it from’, he really is, but what comes out is “I like Remus’ eyes on you” which is just so weird.

Unfortunately, his remedying attempt does not quite make it better. “I mean, not Remus’ eyes. They were yours first! But you gave them to Remus. Not your actually eyes, of course. You still have eyes, after all.”

Remus’ mum looks puzzled, as she slowly says “...yes. I do have eyes.”

It’s only then that Sirius realizes Remus’ father isn’t there. Immediately, the worst-case-scenarios cross his mind. Remus’ dad has already decided he hates Sirius and doesn’t even want to meet him. Remus’ dad has looked up Sirius’ family and now wants nothing to do with him. Remus’ dad is not okay with Remus being in a same-sex relationship (which is absolutely ridiculous, since Remus has been out since he was fifteen, and his parents have been nothing but loving and supportive, but in Sirius’ anxiety-riddled state, even Remus’ dad changing his entire belief system overnight seems completely possible).

It is at that moment Remus’ mum says “You must excuse my husband. He just had to go to the restroom.”

Sirius lets out a sigh of relief. Right, the restroom.

The restroom...

Wait.

The restroom.

Oh. Oh.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no.

“Ah, there he is!” Remus’ mum says, and as Sirius turns around he feels dread settle in his stomach.

And indeed. The man approaching them is the very same man Sirius just trauma-dumped all over in the restroom. The man has a smirk on his face. The exact same smirk Remus has when he thought of a particular wicked prank. Oh yes, he definitely knew all along.

“I’d already reckoned you’re Sirius!” The man says, reaching out a hand. “It’s about time we were probably introduced! I’m Lyall Lupin, Remus’ father.”

All colour must’ve drained from Sirius’ face as he shakes Mr Lupin’s hand. “I... You... I was... And you were... I didn’t... Oh my god. I’m so sorry! I can’t believe I...”

“Sirius,” Remus says in a levelled tone. “What did you do?” The exact same tone he uses when Sirius and James call him in the middle of the night to come pick them up somewhere.

“Nothing bad, nothing bad!” Remus’ dad quickly says, laughing while holding up his hands. “He just told me how anxious he was to be meeting his boyfriend’s parents for the first time. But only because he loves the boy so much!”

Remus lets out a small gasp before turning to Sirius with wide eyes. Eyes that Sirius is purposely not meeting, looking everywhere but at Remus.

“Oh,” Remus’ dad says, looking from Remus to Sirius and back to Remus. “You two haven’t...”

“Sirius!” Remus exclaims, smacking his arm. “I can’t believe the first time you say that you love me it’s to my bloody father!”

“Well, I did not know that!” Sirius says defensively. “I thought it was to a stranger in the loo!”

“That does not make it better!”

As the boys bicker, Hope wraps her arms around Lyall’s upper arm and rests her head against him. “So,” she says softly. “We approve?”

“His feelings for Remus are very sincere,” Lyall replies. “And I honestly think he’ll do anything for him.”

Hope lets out a content sigh as she looks at the couple. “I’m glad.”

“He seems kind and genuine,” Lyall adds. “And also, we’re going to have to adopt him as our second son.”

Hope lifts her head to look at her husband with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve already decided that?”

“He never had a real family,” Lyall says. “He claims he wants us to like him purely for Remus’ sake, but there’s more to it than that. I don’t think he’s ready to admit it, maybe doesn’t even realise it, but he’s craving it for himself as well. A family, a home.”

“Well, then he has chosen the right in-laws,” Hope says, accepting Lyall’s judgement without question as she lays her head back against his arm.

Then she chuckles. “My, my. That was some toilet break, huh?”

#my tumblr writing #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #lyall lupin #hope lupin #lyall lupin is a good dad #sirius is a mess #lyall finds a second son

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kinkandkreep · 8 months

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♡︎ 𝐂𝐖: 𝐍𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 '𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

♡︎ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭

♡︎ 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭

ʰᵉʸ ʰᵉʸ ʸ'ᵃˡˡ! ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃ ᶠᵃⁱʳ ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵈᵉˡᵛᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᶜʰᵃᵖᵗᵉʳ, ⁱ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉ ˡⁱᵇᵉʳᵗⁱᵉˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ⁱᶻᵃⁿᵃ'ˢ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ˢⁱᵐᵖˡʸ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ⁱ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿᵒⁿⁱᶜᵃˡ ᶠᵃᶜᵗˢ ᶜᵒⁿᶜᵉʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ, ᵈᵘᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃᶜᵗ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁱ'ᵐ ᵃⁿ ᵃⁿⁱᵐᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˢⁱᵈᵉ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵃ ᶠᵉʷ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵘⁿᵃᵛᵒⁱᵈᵃᵇˡᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁱˡᵉʳˢ, ⁱ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵏⁱⁿᵈᵃ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ. 🙃 ˢᵒ ʸᵉᵃʰ, ⁱᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉᵗᵃⁱˡˢ ⁱ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃʳᵉ ʷᵃʸ ᵒᶠᶠ, ᵃ.) ⁱ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇ.) ᵗʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ʷʰʸ. 😂 ᵃˡʳⁱᵍʰᵗʸ, ʷᵉˡˡ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵗʰᵃᵗ, ⁱ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸ'ᵃˡˡ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸ! 👋🏾

Mikey hasn’t returned home.

Ken left a little while ago, after you assured him many times that you would be alright on your own and wouldn’t lash out and do anything drastic.

“Though you’d be well within your rights to,” he’d said, causing a small, strained, albeit genuine smile to curl your lips.

With a final hug and firm, comforting squeeze of reassurance from the tattooed man, you were finally left alone with your thoughts. Back to the front door, you let your eyes roam around your living area, gaze momentarily catching on each of the photos of you and your husband strategically scattered about the space.

‘Now, how do I make that son of a bitch pay?’

Deciding to take advantage of the time you have alone before Manjiro presumably returns, you make the decision to do a little redecorating.

You’re not entirely sure he’ll notice- especially not now, as entranced as he is with that whore of his- but you hope that at least to some degree, the subtle changes will cause a cold, looming shower of dread to trickle over his being.

You don’t want to be too direct just yet, having decided that this learning process for Manjiro cannot be rushed. No, you’re going to take your time, and maybe even have a little fun.

It’s strange, you think. How the initial shock and sorrow wore off so quickly, only to leave burning rage and bitterness in its wake.

Perhaps it’s because subconsciously, you knew all along the truth. Perhaps it’s because deep down, you always knew something like this would happen.

Despite yourself, you can feel tears threatening to build at the latter thought, and so you quickly push it away.

You’ve not shed a tear for that piece of shit yet, and you’re not about to start now.

Continuing your journey around your living room, you begin removing certain pictures from their frames, replacing them with others.

The photo of you and Mikey at the beach when you were a bit younger? Replaced with a photo of you and Ken from that same day.

The photo of you and Mikey smiling big and bright on his CB250T the day he got it out from the shop following a minor accident? Replaced with one of you and Takashi smiling at each other at his workshop.

You smile fondly as you recall the memory associated with that photo. Takashi had made your wedding dress, and at the time that photo was taken, you’d been discussing the details with him.

Several other photos are taken down and replaced as well, until you arrive at what is perhaps the most poignant one of them all.

It’s of you and Manjiro on your wedding day, looking so young and in love, who’d have ever thought that it would ever come to this?

The picture was taken by your friend Shuji from high school. You remember with a chuckle how much of an absolute menace he used to be when you were younger, but it brings you pride, the thought of the respectable young man he’d turned out to be.

He ran a freelance photography business, and when you’d approached him about being the photographer for your big day, to your surprise, he’d jumped at the opportunity, even offering to do so for free.

You still paid him, generously in fact, your heart warmed by his thoughtfulness.

It almost pains you to hide that wonderfully taken photo away, but if you’re to make a point, the photo’s got to go.

It is replaced with one of you and Manjiro's adoptive brother, Izana.

The picture catches you and him mid laugh at something most likely he’d said, one of your hands gently clutched in his, nails partially painted. Izana holds the nail polish brush in his left hand, his head tilted back as he guffaws.

You recall that day like it was yesterday, though it’s been quite some time.

Your friend group had just recently celebrated the grand opening of Izana’s first nail salon in Shibuya. The man was so ecstatic, he practically vibrated with excitement for the entirety of the event.

It was a little unusual, given how collected Izana always was, but you were all extremely happy for him and his success.

As part of the event, Izana and his team gave out free manicures to the first 10 people who entered the store and inquired about their services, then offering nail services at a discounted price to the next 15.

You hadn’t expected him to approach you and offer to give you a free manicure, as you were just there to show your support, but with how skilled Izana was, you couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

As you sat in one of the plush, high-end massage chairs and awaited your service, you studied Izana as he went about tending to some of the other patrons and his staff members before dedicating his full attention to you.

Izana had a somewhat rocky childhood. He has a Filipino mother and Japanese father. Because of this, he moved back and forth a lot, never quite settling down and stabilizing in any one place.

Eventually, once he was a little older, he did settle in Japan with his dad following his mother’s death. Growing up, Izana was left to his own devices most times, and this allowed him to get into some less than savory situations.

Thankfully, he eventually straightened out and found his passion in nail artistry. He painted his nails in his younger years to express himself, finding later that he wanted to help others do the same.

That led to now, and as you continue to observe your good friend turned brother-in-law, you can’t help but smile at how far he’s come.

Izana is undoubtedly good looking too, but you’ve never known him to be with anyone. The thought strikes you as a bit strange, but you decide to leave it alone.

After a bit, he finally makes his way back over to you, apologizing for the delay and laying out his tools.

You decide to get something simple yet seasonally appropriate. It was the spring time when Izana opened up shop, and if you recall correctly you got a simple olive green nail base with white and yellow daisies painted on top.

Izana worked thoroughly and efficiently, and the finished product had been so delicate and pretty you’d gone back for that same design before the season was up.

The two of you chatted throughout the duration of your service that day, laughing and reminiscing. You couldn’t stop gushing about how proud you were of Izana, missing his fond gaze and lightly flushed cheeks.

Now, in the present moment, you feel yourself smiling widely. Despite the unfortunate circumstance, you felt much lighter after having gazed upon the happy faces of those most important to you.

With the final photo in place, you head into the bathroom, preparing to freshen up before heading to bed. It’s late, and you’re frankly more than a little tired and worn out.

After completing your routine, you head into the bedroom, switching into pajamas and sliding underneath the covers.

You’re just about to drift off when you hear a key in the front lock, the hollow sound of the front door opening and footsteps followed by the low creak of it swinging shut.

It’s Manjiro.

The footsteps move through the living room, pausing at odd intervals.

You hope it’s because he’s noticed the photos.

Eventually, the steps begin making their way upstairs. You notice that they’re slow, even; almost like Manjiro’s trying to be as quiet as possible.

He stops right outside the shut bedroom door, probably figuring it odd that door is shut in the first place.

If he’s out and you’ve gone to bed, you typically leave it open in anticipation of him. But this time, you’ve shut it, almost as if you’re passively, subconsciously shutting him out as well.

The doorknob twists slowly, before stopping entirely. You hear Manjiro make his way to the bathroom, the sound of the switch flicking on and the door starting to shut before it pauses.

Again, you hope he’s taken notice.

You removed your wedding ring before you got in the shower, setting it in the most obvious place and neglecting to replace it before you left the room.

If nothing else, this should cause the greatest alarm for Manjiro.

You never take your ring off. In fact, up until this point, you hadn’t removed it since the day Manjiro slid it onto your finger.

It’s silent for many seconds, before you hear the door swing completely shut and water begin to run.

You’re still tired however, and for as much as you’d like to gauge Manjiro’s expression when he enters the bedroom, you feel your eyes droop and shut, and after some minutes, you’re off to the Land of Nod.

It’s a shame you don’t stay awake for just a bit longer, because when Manjiro exits the shower room, he has your ring clutched tightly in his hand.

Carefully making his way over to your sleeping form, he gently coaxes one of your hands out from underneath the covers, slipping the ring back into place before leaning over to place a single kiss on your forehead.

“I’m sorry, __.”

ᵃ/ⁿ: 👀 👀 👀 ʷʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ᵈⁱˢ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʰᵉʳᵉ? ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ʰᵃˢ ᵇᵉᵍᵘⁿ ʰᵉʳ (ᵗᵒᵏʸᵒ) ʳᵉᵛᵉⁿᵍᵉ(ʳˢ) ᵖˡᵃⁿ. ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈˢ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ˢʰᵉ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ˢᶜʳᵉʷ ᵃʳᵒⁿᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐⁱᵏᵉʸ'ˢ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵉˡˢᵉ. ⁱ'ᵐ ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ. 😈 ⁱ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ ˢᶜʳᵉʷ ⁱⁿ ᶠⁱᶜˢ, ᵉˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵃˡˡʸ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᶜⁱᵉᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵃʳᵗʸ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵈᵉˢᵉʳᵛᵉˢ ⁱᵗ. ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʸ'ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ. ˢᵉᵉ ʸ'ᵃˡˡ ˡᵃᵗᵉʳ! 👋🏾

#tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #tokrev #manjiro sano #sano manjiro #sano manjiro x reader #manjiro sano x reader #cheater sano manjiro #ken ryuguji #draken #mitsuya takashi #hanma shuji #shuji hanma #izana kurokawa

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idcbabyialreadylostmymind · 1 year

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Jealous Girl

Pairing- Spider x Metkayina!reader

Summary- You cut Spiders hair amd he gets the attention of many others getting your jealous.

Hopping down the beach you hum an old Metkayina tune stopping when your eyes meet just the person you were looking for. Spider Socorro, he was kidnapped by the sky people and he finally escaped when the battle happened a few months ago.

You admit that you were a little wary of him to begin with. But the more you watched him, how kind and generous he was to animals and Na'vi alike. It was so strange how he ignored all the badgering from Na'vi who still wanted him off the island. But he was a part of the Sully's he helped save Neteyam and many others that horrible night. They made it just in time for Neteyam. But as I was saying he had a strong heart, and was brave for a sky person.

And when you remember the first time you interacted with the strange boy a smile always finds its way to your lips.

You watched the Sullys swim with the tawtute (human) you had been observing him the past few weeks since he had arrived in Awu'atula. He was a bit strange looking with his hair and all, but you couldn't deny he was cute. You stayed a cautious distance from him until you watched him more. And watch him you did, whenever he stepped into a room your eyes were glued to him, he entranced you and you wanted to know more about him. You waited until everyone else had to do something and Spider would be left alone. You never understood why they left him but this time you took the opportunity to talk to him.

Walking to the dock he lifted himself up on, even though it looked as if he was really struggling. He sat and you stepped lightly. He didn't notice you until you sat next to him.

"Hello Spider." You say making the boy jump a little. "Oh hi Y/N." He said he knew your name because Tsireya introduced you to him but you never said anything to him more than that. After the small hellos were exchanged nothing else happened, just awkward silence.

"Awu'atula is beautiful—"

"What was it like in the Omatikaya—"

Cutting each other off you both stop and look at each other. You begin to laugh putting a hand over your mouth and he slowly lets loose as he laughs with you. "You…you go first." You say after calming down a bit. "Yes, I said Awu'atula is beautiful." He said looking at you. You look out into the ocean. "It is. Sometimes I feel like I take it for granted." You say a small smile cracking in your lips. "I know how you feel." He says and your smile widens. "What did you say?" He asks and pulls you out of your trance. "Oh, uh I just was wondering what it's like in the Omatikaya." You reply.

He smiles softly, "It was amazing, you know I'm not Na'vi obviously," he says pointing to his small human body. "But what I did see and what I was able to experience was amazing being in the trees. It was the place where I never felt judged." He says. "Like the ocean." You say and he throws you a confused look. "You being in the trees is like being in the ocean for me that's what I mean." You explain and he smiles. "Spider, do you want to be friends?" You ask with a big smile. He looks caught off guard but he returns your happy smile before nodding.

Back to the present you saw Spider and waved him over. His small body ran past a few Na'vi soldiers who obviously made fun of him after he passed them and he only rolled his eyes as he finally reached you.

He looked different, you really couldn't put your finger in it. Until he moved a peice of hair out of his face. Oh. My. Eywa. You've never seen such a matted hairstyle. Has no one done his hair yet?

"Spider can I do your hair?" You ask and he looks taken back. "My…..hair?" He asks questionably pointing to his hair. "Yes, some of those sky women showed me how to cut hair with something called scissors." You explained and he nodded. No one had ever done his hair except for the dreads he had done very young. And the thought of you doing it made him all giddy inside.

"Ummm, sure." He said and you jumped in happiness. Spider was surprised by your sudden outburst. "Come, come let us go do it." You say, guiding him to your family's marui.

You grabbed a bowl of hot water and settled his hair in it. You gathered some soap your mother taught you to make and some other things. It would take quite a while for his hair to be done.

"Okay, let's get started."

-A few hours later-

"Y/N are we almost done, my neck is starting to hurt and it's like way past Eclipse." Spider complained and you tsked, "Yes I am just adding lay-ers." You sound out the strange word you heard one of the women use it when they taught you.

With a few more 'snips' of the scissors you sat them down and tapped the boy's shoulder. "It is done." You say and he groans out a tired 'Finally.' He goes over to the nearest reflective surface, his hands go up to his short hair. It was fluffy on the top and short on the back. It looked good, surprisingly.

"You look great!" Clapping your hands excitedly. You sat on your knees to be at his height somewhat your still taller than him (short king). He turns to face you and he gives you a bashful smile. "It's great Y/N you know no one has ever really cared about what I've looked like before so thank you." He said and you tilted your head, how could no one care about him? You pull him into a small hug.

It was a short hug considering his face was right at your chest.

"It was an honor doing your hair Spider Socorro." You say bowing your head a little letting a small laugh out. He chuckles after looking outside and how late it was. "I should get going, let's hang out tomorrow alright." He says and you nod your head feverishly. Smiling at your excitement he walked out giving you one more goodbye wave.

-The Next Morning-

When you awoke you got up immediately, first tended to the crops that needed to be picked today, and then you made your parents breakfast, they were surprised to see you so happy you usually aren't a morning person since you stay up all hours of the night. Then you pulled your outfit for the day. It was a gorgeous top intricate with beautiful pearls and shells found just on the reefs of your home. And a loincloth for your bottoms that had dark colored leaves on the front. And just before you left you packed a few things you needed for your hangout.

Quickly you changed as you saw more and more Na'vi step out of their own homes as the day began. You said goodbye to your mother and father, giving them a kiss on the cheek and bowing your head in respect.

You say your 'Hellos' and 'How are you' and, 'Tell your Mother my Mother said Hello' to those who you passed quickly trying to get to the docks.

You walked past a little rock that sat on the path to the docks. And then you see Spider and his new and improved haircut and your smile got even wider when you saw him and then your smile faded as you saw, Heyian, she's a healer as you are a farmer. (You're a farmer bc I say so).

You now drag your feet and slight anger bubbles in your stomach when her hand finds its way onto his arm. You look at your hands, you've been farming since you knew how to count. Your's were a little rough since you used your hands to pick the fruit and vegetables, and moving heavy bags of dirt, dealing with the rough earth when you don't know when or where the climate will change. You shake those silly insecurities off as much as you can, though some still lingers.

When Spider clocks you be immediately checked out of the very long, and very boring conversation he was having with this girl named, Heyan, or Heian something along the lines of that he can't remember.

"Hey Y/N!!" Spider called out and you got a little pep in your step seeing how excited he was about seeing you. Heyian looked back and obviously rolled her eyes before looking back at Spider. She's never shown interest in him so why now? And then some other girls ran past you to Spider and ran there long and touchy fingers in his hair.

Spider was overwhelmed, what was happening?

You were shocked they were just touching him, touching Spider.

You ran faster to them, and it was like a battle to see who could get Spider to talk more or to hang out with. He kept trying to get away from their grabby hands but if one wasn't pulling him one way someone else was.

You made your way through the girls and pulled all of them off of him. He gave you a quiet thank you but you heard it. "So who did your hair, Spi." One said and you look at her almost offended, no not almost definitely offended, Spi. Spi! "Y/N did it." He said and you smiled at them it was almost smug, you got to do his hair and he was proud of it. (Delulu ass)

"Really?" Another one said. Glaring at her slightly you smile again blinking, "Yes. Really. Now if you will excuse us, Spider and I have some stuff to do, okay, bye bye see you later." You quickly said and before anyone could let there protest out or follow you two you ran down the beach as fast as the both of you could.

You held his hand and he laughed as you pulled him behind a large rock and then you two fell into a fit of laughter.

"Eywa," you say laughing a little bit more before sighing and sitting up back resting against the rock. "Thought we'd never get away from them." You say and Spider laughs a little bit more watching as you pull two bags out of your satchel. "Whatcha doing?" He asks, getting curious.

Handing him a bag he has a confused look on his face. You wait for him to open but he was just stuck with a confused look. Maybe he needed a little help. "Open it you'll see." You say.

He opened the bag and it looked like a bunch of shells. He began to pull them out and when he pulled all of it out and revealed a beautiful necklace, made for him. It had brown and green colors in it. "Um the brown is to match your eyes and green cause you look good in it." You say but he was still starstruck.

"Thank you Y/N I love it." Spider said and you only smile back as he puts it on. After a while it was just sitting in silence, drawing in the sand, usual stuff from when you and Spider hang out. But what you couldn't get out of your head was how those girls were all over him earlier. Your stomach twisted and you closed your eyes. "You good Y/N." Spider asked and you opened your eyes. "Yeah I'm okay—"

"Oh my Eywa! Spider there you are!" Heyian, the girl from earlier, exclaimed running over to where you and Spider sat. Although you Thank The Great Mother that none of the others were following her as she sat down and she just had to sit right in between the two of you.

Both you and Spider scooted a good distance away as Heyian chippered on and on to Spider as she flung her hair in your face.

You wanted to be nice, but everyone has their limits and hair in your face is one of them. You decided to just be passive aggressive. "Watch where you fling your hair." You say and she just lets out a loud giggle before turning back to the blonde boy.

Spider noticed your irritation most of the time you just ignored Heyian's presence. And then her hand found its way to the back of his neck fiddling with his necklace.

Huffing with irritation you scoot even farther from them. "It's so cute Spi, let me try it on?" She asks and you look at them, is he? No he wouldn't. Would he?

He stood up and wiped his hands off walking in front of you. "Actually Y/N gave me this as a gift and we have somewhere to be right about now." He explained to the girl. "Oh…..Y/N." She said and you rolled your eyes. "Yes, Y/N bye Heyian." Spider said, helping you up and walking further down the beach.

"Gosh it's like they leech onto you." You laugh but in reality it kinda stung. Spider laughed as he observed your face. "If you asked me I think you were jealous, Y/N.". Spider laughed at your bewildered look on your face. "M–Me…..Jealous?" You say trying to play it off. "Cause I have all these new girls trying to talk to me and you don't have me all to yourself." He chuckles after every word and every reaction you give. Huffing for what seemed to be the hundredth time, "Whatever." You say.

"But the truth is I only want you." He says and you look at him, your steps closed down before you smiled. "Yeah." You whisper as you pick your pace back up, you grab his hand slowly placing it in your palm, holding hands with him and as Eclipse comes peace surrounding you.

#avatar 2 #avatar 2022 #avatar #avatar 2009 #avatar way of water #avatar x reader #avatar x reader fluff #avatar x y/n #avatar x you #spider x reader #spider avatar #spider socorro #avatar shit

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futureplayboibunnie · 1 year

Text

‘Innocent’

Sherlock x fem! reader

- oh. my. god. i got a few requests for this virgin/ inexperienced smutty fic and lord i got so carried away. I LOVE THIS ONE SO MUCH IT TOOK ME SO LONG BUT MY OWN WRITING HAS ME FERAL??? help x

Sherlock was feeling completative, pondering upon forbidden grounds that he wouldn't usually travel. He was walking through the avenues of his mind, the thoughts reeling through him- even though it really wasn’t a good time.

You were next to him, he was being awarded another stupid gift for his incredible and somewhat pretentious sleuthing skills but he really wasn't paying much attention. Not after what he did. Not after what he felt.

Sherlock accidentally grazed your fingers while you were standing next to him, he was versed enough to catch onto bodily reactions but yours was incredibly different. Your breath caught in your throat but you still let out an audible gasp, you stiffened under his glare and your face started to blush a heated rose with every moment he stared at you. Lips parted, eyes widened with a surprised sheen, teeth clamping onto your lower lip- he didn't know he had the ability to draw that type of reaction out of you. He hasn't really seen a woman react like that before. Especially because of something he did.

Jesus Christ, it's like you've never been touched before.

He stole another glance at you. You were incredibly bashful, not in a nervous way but in an endearing shyness. Naive but knowing, chilling but warm...sexy yet sweet. A mystery altogether and Sherlock wanted to uncover all the secrets you were hiding, you were concealing something and he wanted to find out what it was. It was nagging him relentlessly. He was in spite of it. Sherlock was able to deduce anything about anyone but he couldn't place his finger on you, maybe it's because he couldn't but maybe it was because he didn't want to. This helpless attitude he was beginning to adopt was disarming him and he did not like it one bit. Even if he did want you, he simply wouldn't have the opportunity, you were as blocked off as he was.

Stop, Sherlock. She's much too young.

Sherlock's sex life was incredibly demanding. It never really occured to others that he had a sex life at all but what he demanded in the bedroom was intricate and detailed- he fucked his women in the way he alone wanted. He pushed the limits of every woman he had ever bedded and to some it may be shocking that he had a line of women begging for him.

Sherlock's tastes were very singular, specific and he was beggining to question if...you...were adventurous in bed. He shouldn't even be thinking about you in this way because you seemed so...innocent. Normally he didn't find that attractive but you were a fascinating creature altogether.

His brow creased. He could quite literally feel you shiver. He wondered if you were cold or nervous, but it all began to click- the puzzle pieces began to fall into place and he only realised once you were alone in his presence.

He asked you to meet him at Baker Street.

You were filled with dread and pining, you weren't even sure if it was quiet or loud pining but the desperation that was beginning to bubble within you was becoming very difficult to control and hide. Especially when the object of your desires wanted you to meet him..alone. You were so sweet for him. So ready for him but concern began whirring the cogs in your mind...for one, Sherlock Holmes was quite frankly unattainable and you were...inexperienced. Either way you were fucked, and not in the way you wanted too. He was just too potent, too strong and he could see through anything and everyone, you couldn't deal with the embarrassment he would be so unashamed to put on you- dealing with the ramifications of that would simply be your downfall.

But you couldn't find it in your bones to say no. Saying no to Sherlock Holmes? It simply wasn't within you, you couldn't find the strength to pretend not to want him anymore. Your heart thundered with every step you took up those stairs. Velveteen and living single wasn't really cutting it for you anymore.

‘’Sherlock?’’ You called after him as you creaked the door open, not really expecting an answer from him. ‘’Sherlock, what do you want?'’ You sighed exasperated and annoyed by the way he was keeping you waiting.

He was very certain with himself. He had a simple hypothesis but he wasn't sure if it was true, it really couldn't be true. Sherlock came out from the kitchen to see you standing there, trying to keep yourself cool, calm and collected but anyone with a brain stem could see that you were filled with panic. He straightened his blazer and unbottoned it as he made his way over to you.

‘’Can I try something? Please.’’ Sherlock asked with inquisitive and dark eyes, you were wondering what he wanted, what he was going to do. ‘’An experiment of sorts.’’

All you could do was mindlessly nod. ‘’Yeah.’’ You breathed.

Sherlock gazed into the endless summer of your eyes. If time stood still you'd take this moment and make it last forever. Your pupils dialated and that was something to cross off his checklist, his face was nearing yours and you blinked up at his dumbly. Your breath mingled with his and you stilled once his fingertips grazed up the bare skin of your arm, the pads flowing on the suppleness like oil upon water. Smooth skin left with goosebumps, you let out a shaky breath- completely confused yet enthralled with what he was doing.

His head dipped near your ear. Sherlock could feel your pulse kick into overdrive, he felt your body alight as he neared you- warm breath coating your skin. You were so damn shy, bright, deep and arousing as hell.

‘’No. It simply can't be true.’’ Sherlock muttered, he let go of you and you felt as though the sun just left everything in complete darkness.

Sherlock swayed slowly to lean on the edge of the table, arms crossed and the way he stood was enough to make electricity shoot down your thighs. Sherlock was shocked. It really couldn't be true but he secretly hoped it was.

‘’What are you talking about?’’ You asked impassively, afraid to reveal too much of yourself and the desire to jump his bones you were feigning in.

Sherlock finally pieced together you hadn't had anyone. You were a virgin.

It made his breath halt in his tracks when he came to the realisation, aren't people your age supposed to be fucking like bunnies? It was an objective expression: you were beautiful, sweet, charming and completely disarming. You had barely been touched. The thought is strangely appealling. Inexperienced? He could work with that, God knows he wanted to.

‘’Have you been kissed before?’’ Sherlock asked out of the blue, completely oblivious to how dumbfounded you were.

‘’Of course I have.’’ He thought you looked offended.

Yeah, you've been kissed but not often.... for some damn reason, it pleased him.

‘’Have you ever been touched before?’’ He questioned as if it was a normal thing to say.

You opened your mouth to talk but you couldn't find it in yourself to speak.

Hmm…interesting.

You were so...different. So different to his other women. He liked that.

And he wanted to fuck you, spank you and watch your skin pink beneath his cold hands. You weren't talking, that's out of the question now- isn't it?

He wanted to whip you into shape, your mouth would need training of course but he liked your naivite- it provided a challenge. Well maybe not fuck, that's too heavy handed for you. Maybe he could break you in...show you the ropes. It would be a novel experience for the both of you.

The look in Sherlock's eyes was that of fire swirling into a cylone, he sauntered his way over to you like a sly fox. Your chest was heavy as you looked up at him, the proximity between you two growing smaller and smaller. You daren't blink when he hooked his fingers up from your chin and jutted it up slightly- the feeling of his hands on yours was enough to do you in.

‘’I would like to bite that lip.’’ Sherlock grumbled concisely, his voice low and authoritative and your lips parted in surprise, he grazed his thumb over the soft pink flesh of your lips.

‘’I think I'd like that too.’’ You whispered, shocked by your own words.

‘’Where have you been? How have you been- how could you…?’’ Sherlock breathed, eyes inquisitive. Imploring you to make him understand how no one had taken you, no one had had you or touched you. How could it be possible?

‘’Waiting.’’ You breathed as you felt his hands cradle your face. ‘’For you.’’

‘’And a nice young man hasn't swooped you off of your feet? Men must throw themselves at you.’’

You were melting, knees buckling- you felt pathetic.

‘’No. No one. Just wanted you.’’ You exhaled, so intense and certain of your desire for him as you give him a bright come hither look, he was startled by the fact you weren't feeling so innocent now.

‘’Can I kiss you?’’ Sherlock asked politely and under his breath, which he wouldn't normally do but for you he was willing to bend the rules, his rules and it made him irate. He didn't like his specific rules he set be broken...he was just so curious about you that he was pushing to just get you out of that skirt, gag you and fuck you over the table but he had to tread lightly.

You shocked him when you grabbed him by the collar like instinct and slanted your mouth against his. Sherlock twisted his hand in your hair while your lips seek to find his. You moan into his mouth, the call of a siren and finally he could sample you: mint, tea, peach and an orchard of mellow fruitfulness, a fresh full supply that he wanted to drown in. Innocence and sweetness.

You taste every bit as good as you look.

You reminded him of a time of plenty. Good Lord, he was yearning for you.

Sherlock grasped your chin, deepening the kiss and your tongue tentatively touches his...exploring. Considering. Feeling. Revelling. Kissing him back.

Good God in Heaven. You thought you would grow wings before you could see the day, this could only happen in your wildest fantasies and dreams. A manifestation of sorts. You were punch drunk off of his taste, completely intoxicated beyond your reach and you didn't want to let go but you had to tear your lips away from his to breathe.

‘’I want to take you now...can I?’’ Sherlock had to ask politely, he couldn't just jump your bones although he wanted to.

‘’Sherlock, please. Do whatever you want with me, take control, I don't care. Just because I haven't been touched in this way doesn't mean I'm fragile and breakable. Fuck me how you want to, show me what you like. I've waited long enough, just do something.’’

Your voice sensual and that of an exotic creature, far too holy to be considered earthly. Sherlock had to contain his amusement and surprise, wow you were pulling the rug from under him and he liked that a lot. Those big doe eyes wide and gleaming to give you a morsel of the pleasure you were craving. He loved your incessant blushing.

‘’You don't mean that.’’ Sherlock warned.

‘’Yes I do.’’ Your voice timid.

‘’You're incredibly brave. I'm in awe of you.’’

‘’I feel like I'm too clothed.’’ You flirted.

Sherlock wanted to taste you, eat you out until tears were leaking down your face and then shock you with his cock.

He'd get there soon...in time. Maybe next time, he'd use the riding crop.

Yeah, yeah keep dreaming Sherlock. You have her here right now, just ease into it.

When he gripped you by the hand and lead you to his room, you felt your cheeks pink in desire. Sherlock felt a wholly unexpected thrill unfurl inside of him. He held you flush against his body. You gasp in surprise and his loud thoughts were subdued by his libido, he was so damn horny because of you- you had no clue how arousing you where. So alluring.

Sherlock's fingers tug at your hair, pulling your face up to his as he gazed into your captivating eyes.

This is so different...so intimate. It felt so heated. Although there was no arrangement made between you two, nothing placed, no limits set, you weren't his to do with as he pleases but yet he was still excited.

Aroused. It was obvious the way he was trying to reign his eagerness in when he was peeling you out of your clothes. You were shivering into his feather light touches, your body was alight like the fourth of July- a million fireworks exploding into the clear night sky and you were bathing in the feeling. He was so damn seductive. It was an unfamilair and exhilerating feeling, the desire for him coursing through you, at the tipping edge of a giant rollercoaster.

Sherlock got you half naked fairly quickly, he kneeled in front of you as you stood and your eyes widened. Sherlock Holmes on his knees? Dear God. You felt so special. He got you in your bra and now he wanted to peel your skirt off. His gleaming eyes met with yours and they daren't waver, they were blown out and dialated. Sherlock hands gripped onto your hips and he kissed the skin below the hem of your skirt and it began riding up with his nose as it travelled north. You whimpered and threw your head back in pure ecstasy. Your brows tensed as he stopped kissing you and finally shimmied your skirt down your legs.

Damn it.

His cock hardened in his pants. You in stockings? You in fine lingerie even though you had no one getting to see you like this, this…intimate? Who were you wearing them for? Him? Oh fuck. He was on top of the world.

His nose trailed over your panties and the scent of you was simply perfect, so delicious, he was salivating.

‘’Do you have any idea what I'm going to do to you?’’ He grumbled, planting kisses on your thighs.

You whined at nothing, the words filling you up entirely. You were entranced- lost in his spell- he was clearly happy with himself.

‘’Do you want me to kiss you here, sweetheart?��’ Sherlock asked and you nodded fervently as his mouth was dangerously near the place where your ache was.

Lord, you were pulsating. Soaked.

‘’Yes. Please.’’ You agreed politely and he loved how naive and cute you were, it was delightful that you remembered your manners.

Sherlock's thick finger pulled your panties to the side as he kissed and suckled on that spot that no one else had touched. You felt electricity course through you, your hands flew to his soft curls to tug at it. It made him feel so good. His tongue was doing his magic now, swiping and suckling on your swollen clit, illiciting these lewd noises out of you in the process.

You were seriously about to cry, it was all so much.

You grabbed his face to make him stand and he got on his feet in quick hot flashes, his mouth was fastened to yours again. You moaned into his mouth when his tongue tangled with yours again, you could taste yourself off of him- it was so damn erotic, something out of a dream. When he ripped his lips from yours to see the wanton look in your eyes, he found that you were covered in a delicious rose, your breathing shallow and quick. You were clearly embarrassed at how quickly he got you like this.

Sherlock groaned when you gripped onto his arms, he finally reached behind you and unclasped your bra. Your tits fell free and he immediately palmed at them, your nipples were painfully hard and it made him realise how badly you actually wanted him. Your skin was warm as you flushed. It was the first time anyone else had seen you naked and the fact it was the infamous Sherlock Holmes made it all the more better.

'So pretty, I want to mark your skin up, make you mine." He wasn't sure why he blurted the last part. Would he make you his? Well you weren't.

‘’Do it then.’’ You breathed.

Like clockwork, he obeyed. His teeth sunk into the skin of your neck as he littered bites all down the column of it, leaving his mark on you.

His mark all over you. You then noticed that he was still fully clothed and it made you frown and Sherlock saw that as he peeked at you.

‘’What's with the frown? Am I not satisfying you enough?’’ He taunted.

‘’You've still got clothes on.’’ You pouted. ‘’Let me take it off for you.’’ You offered so deliciously and for once, Sherlock let you. It was unheard of, but you were already bending his rules.

You unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it off him, but before you could revel in his physique he pushed you onto the bed. Your face contorted into different scenarios of pleasure and he wasn't even inside you yet. Sherlock fawned over you, hands roaming every inch of your skin, your hands raking in his hair. Breath warm as he kissed you. Your hands flew to his pants.

Whoa...gentle. Easy. So...eager. He liked that. The naive innocent itching to just get into his pants- interesting.

You unzipped it and Sherlock finally let his cock spring free. He peeked up at your face to check that you were still keen but it was more than that. You were desperate. Your mouth formed into an 'o' as it popped open, eyes wide with how big he was. It startled you, even envisioning what it would look like. He was leaking. Fuck.

‘’You still want this?’’ He checks again and you nodded furiously, already panting. Has he ever been this aroused? He didn't get it…it must be you.

Sherlock postioned himself in between your thighs as he slid into you so he could take you on his whim. Your eyes were open wide, imploring him as you strained. Should he be gentle and prolong the agony or just go for it?

The need to posses you clouds him. He goes for it.

You cry out and the pain felt so fucking God, the sting burned and you fucking loved it.

‘’Is that okay?’’ Sherlock checked as his eyes bore into yours, your face was etched in pure pleasure.

‘’Mmhmm...fuck...it feels...nice.’’ You whisper in his ear, moaning and whimpering and it was like his favourite sound of music.

Nice?

Sherlock? Nice?

Oh no, that's not good enough.

Sherlock wasn't nice in bed he was downright devilish in bed but for you he was willing to be soft, maybe later he'll fuck you in every way possible.

He had never felt this desire. This hunger before. He wanted so much from you but for now, he wanted you to cum on him.

Sherlock eased in and out of you slowly, eyes connected and scorching. Intimate. Hot. Slow. Normally, he would've pinned your hands above your head but right now they were in his hair and that's exactly where he wanted them to be right now. He began to pick up the pace and your moans echoed throughout his bedroom. It was just beginning to dawn on you that you were being fucked by Sherlock Holmes in his own bedroom.

‘’You're so fucking wet, I love it.’’ He cooed condescendingly and you didn't find it in yourself to care.

Sherlock reached you at the hilt, hitting that spot over and over as he kissed your lips and your jaw. He was just relentless and perfect.

‘’..God..'’ It was more of a strangled cry than an actual word.

‘’Cum with me...feel it with me, baby.’’

That's it…Feel it.

He loved that you were so responsive, he'd have to keep you in line for that later though. The pet name drove you to insanity as you bottomed out, gushing onto him as the flood gates opened and you had none of the means to keep them closed. Your cry was incandescent and it made him follow you in your footsteps. How telling. It was an explosive collision, a once in a lifetime event. That blush began to coat and prick your skin again.

When he finished, he rolled off beside you to regain his breath. The air was so thick and fulfilled, fire and erosion turning the atmosphere to molten lava. You cut through the pants.

‘’Am I supposed to thank you...because..uhm. Thank you.’’ You breathed bashfully, so sensual in your stance but you attempted to collect yourself and he wanted to laugh.

You were so amusing. So fun.

‘’This was more for me than you.’’ Sherlock admitted truthfully.

‘’Humility will always be a mystery to you.’’ You raised your eyebrow as you leaned to your side to peek up at him. Silence encompassed the air as your statement was incredibly true, he wasn't oblivious to it.

‘’How on Earth have you avoided…?’’ Sherlock seemed exasperated, confused as his brows creased but you cut him off.

‘’I told you, I wasn't interested. I only wanted you.’’

#bbc sherlock #sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes fluff #sherlock smut #sherlock holmes angst #sherlock x fem!reader #sherlock holmes smut #sherlock fanfic

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