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satorena · 2 months

Note

can i request riding choso while he’s high 🌚

❝ DRUGS 'N HELLA MELODIES ! ❞

𐚁̸ featuring. choso kamo.

𐚁̸ warnings. explicit content, foul language, substance consumption (weed), cunningulus, shotgunning, light dom/sub undertones, sex under the influence, established relationship, choso has a tongue piercing, cowgirl riding, overstimulation, unprotected sex, breeding, afab!reader.

𐚁̸ rena's note. i was bullied into writing this… i don’t like it that much :(

“now stick out your tongue f’me. . . mhm, make sure ‘s nice n’ wet, yeah?”

your tongue darts out of your mouth, peeking past your kiss-bitten lips and lolls out. you feel a firm hand cup at your jaw, fingers steadying your stance with the gentleness of the pad of his thumb grazing at your skin. the coolness of silver jewellery blends alarmingly well with the heat emitting from his trailing touches up the column of your neck.

when the tip of your tongue lands on the corner of the rolling paper, you’re hit with a distinctive earthy taste– one that has you delirious in its addictive familiarity. the tobacco darkens as it soaks in your saliva, your tongue swiping from one corner to another.

you don’t miss the way he stares at your every movement, lust and desire swimming in hypnotic violet orbs. choso watches you with want, thumb hooking at your bottom lip when you pull away from the rolling paper, a filthy string of saliva connecting between you and the backwood.

“there’s my good girl.” he praises your good work, honeyed words rumbling out of his chest like a mantra. he runs the pad of his thumb at your bottom lip, collecting some of your fallen drool at his skin. the warmth of his palm at your cheek has you leaning into his touch, nuzzling your nose into his palm as siren eyes return his sensual gaze back.

choso is a very weak man whenever it comes to you. you remain mute, the slow fluttering of your lashes and the intensity of your gaze doing the speaking for you. he can feel your panties dampening against the material of his sweats, leaving a trail of your arousal at his thigh. he had done light foreplay on you earlier– certainly not enough to get you this wet, but he supposes you’re just as weak as he is– and greedy too.

“promise i’ll take care of you baby– just the way y’love it,” he reassures you, lightly nipping at your lip with his thumb and forefinger. he rolls the plushness in between his digits and tugs on it lightly, much to your dismay, if the way you pouted said anything.

“but let’s get some sativa in your system first, hm? ‘s gonna have you feelin’ like y’re floatin’.”

he pulls away from your face in favour to steady his hold on the blunt, before bringing it to his own lips. he never once looks away from you, his eye contact so prominent it nearly makes you shy when he drags his own tongue to coat the paper where you once had.

his pink tongue seals the blunt together eloquently and with practised ease, pupils blown and strong as they stare into yours. you see the twinkle of the shiny jewellery sitting in the muscle, tauntilizing you.

you can’t help it when you bite your bottom lip, core tightening in lust and envy, as you soon wish he’d been going down on you this way. all clear and focused– though his tongue control is precise and messy with spit.

you huff, hands caressing at his bare pecs, gently scratching his skin beneath your nails. it sounds silly as soon as the sentence leaves your lips, but the subtle grinding of your hips into his reveals the truth behind your words before they need to come out. “stop teasing– thought you were s’posed to be nice t’me, cho.”

he pulls away from the blunt, tilting his head in confusion at your statement. “but baby– i am nice to you.” his fingers maneuver the blunt with care, sealing it with ease. you watch with a pout as he sighs, twirling the joint between his knuckles, before leaning back into the couch, though his hands never trail too far from your body.

you narrow your eyes at him, never wavering and choso chuckles at your impatience, running a hand through wild locks. “alright, alright– ‘m sorry baby, now c’mere and let’s light this shit up. ‘m ready to fuck you stupid now.”

those were just the words you’d been wanting to hear, and if you eagerly whipped out the lighter from where they sat in the crevice of your breast, your boyfriend makes no note to comment on it. you roll your thumb and watch the fire ignite to life, flames showcasing a mesmerzing blend of a fiery red and orange.

when choso places the blunt in between his mouth, you know that’s your cue, bringing the flames to the adjacent end. the crisp sound of your blunt burning as it glows a cherry red tells a tale– with furrowed brows, choso inhales the smoke the blunt releases and feels as it fills his lungs. you pull the lighter away from him, chucking it to the side of the couch, before redirecting your attention to your boyfriend.

you watch dreamily as he parts his mouth and ghost inhales, the cloud of smoke compressed and it vanishes as quick as it came. he stares at you with low lidded eyes, tilts his head to the side as beckons you to come closer with two fingers. the smile that creeps at your face mirrors his own, a charming smirk etched onto his flushed out face. you comply with his unspoken request, leaning forward and pressing your chest against his own.

his hand cups at your jaw and slides his lips over yours, and you mimic his movements, accepting the warmth of smoke that was exhaled into your mouth. you feel your lids close at the euphoric feeling, your body conditioned to the bliss brought by sativa weed, limbs already falling limp. it doesn’t help when you feel his hand creep in between your thighs, knuckles teasing rubbing at your clothed clit and fingers toying with the flimsy material of your panties.

you moan, arching your chest into his as your back dips into a beautiful curve– you drag your hips forward, your body chasing after the source of this euphoria stroking at your swollen bundle of nerves. he soothes the ache at your pussy, rubbing at your damp folds with his forefingers, knuckles glistening with your arousal.

“can you hold this for me, doll?” choso grumbles, voice low and deep, and reverbrets against your chest. he hands you the blunt, and it nearly escapes your grasp when he redirects his focus to your cunt, pushing the flimsy material aside. you gasp when the cool air of the living room breezes past your folds, and you clench your pussy around nothing at the sudden exposition.

your clit drools slick down his lap, and choso watches with blown pupils as you drip down his thighs. you’re borderline embarrassed by his sudden quietness, but the way he darts his tongue across his bottom lip and the hardness of his cock stirring to life against your inner thigh says enough.

your hand is shaky as you bring the blunt to your lips, stomach tightening as you desperately chase his fingers once more with your hips, “mmh, hurry up baby– needa feel you right now!”

“i know, i know. . .” his breath is warm in the crook of your neck, lips latching at the supple flesh of your jugular. he nips and nibbles at your skin, inhaling your musk and letting it simmer in all of his senses. you’re smooth and soft– though littered in bites and hickeys, you’re still as perfect as they come, and if you continued to tell him what to do in that breathless voice you put on– there’s no telling how his body would betray him. he’s still a man at the end of the day.

the butt of your blunt glows red as you suck, inhaling a hefty amount of smoke. once enough has entered your system, you pull the blunt away and let the sativa course its way into your veins– the blissful sentiment of peace and lightweightedness simmering in your bones. your body soon begins to feel limp, out of your control in a way that doesn’t stress you but instead turns you on– every emotion felt amplified off the drug.

it’s as if you feel him everywhere at once–his fleeting touches begin from your backside, and he rubs the softness of your bare thighs, trails his hands up to your navel and lands on your chest, groping the plush mounds against your lace bra. his breathing against your collarbone turns moist as he coats your skin in saliva, sensual kisses at all of your sensitive areas leave goosebumps where his kisses follow. he’s everywhere, and his touches feel electrifying against your hot skin, sending jolts of shivers down your spine.

“ngh– feels ‘s gooddd,” your words begin to slur, heavy on your tongue but mind incredibly light. you rut your hips against his fingers like a dog in heat, the contact between his fingertips rubbing at your clit at this angle driving your brain to mush. he was hardly doing anything, and the most minimal contact in this state had already stupid.

“yeah, that’s right mama. . . just relax and lemme take care of you.” he slips in his middle and ring fingers first, past your folds and into your warm cave. you whine, body tensing as your muscles clamp down on his digits. the intrusion feels overwhelming despite past experience, but is definitely welcomed, as he works into your pussy, knuckles rubbing at the spongy walls entrapping him in.

the blunt sizzles and soon enough dies as it's shared between you both, taking enough hits to equally share the high. choso multitasks between accepting the puff you blow into his mouth and scissoring your tight cunt open, preparing you for upcoming events. he’s painfully hard as the sativa in his blood rushes all the way to his shaft– it sits bricked and heavy against his thigh, and you’re drooling and whining, gripping at his biceps and tugging at his locks just the way he likes it– he’s battling demons to avoid creaming his pants.

he watches you through low lidded eyes, and how your body reacts to each drag of his fingers into your cunt. he takes his time with you– fingering your pussy knuckles deep with precision, every stroke with intention and desires to make you come undone. your thighs tremble and your back arches, your head hangs back as your arms tighten around his neck, pulling him deeper into your embrace. you’re oddly more vocal, jaw slackened as words babble past your lips and dissipate into thin air.

he knows your body inside out, and so when he curls his fingers and repeatedly abuses your golden spot, he anticipates the squeal you let out, fingernails clawing at his mahogany tresses as your folds latch greedily onto his fingers. your squelches fill the room, a naturally produced sound so filthy it makes his mouth run dry and balls tighten pervertedly.

“‘s coming– oh god cho, fuuuck, ‘m cumming– hnng!” you moan as the knot in your stomach finally snaps and releases the dam. and when the orgasm does hit you, you swear you feel an out-of-body experience, momentarily. your mind is fuzzy, clouded with weed and the ultimate desire to cum– and for the slightest moment, you think about absolutely nothing at all.

your orgasm is pulled right out of you as is your soul, all in the hands of your lover as he draws you to that orgasmic finish line. you feel tingles creep at every extremity of your limbs, a buzz striking you from the top of your head to the top of your toes, as your cunt clenches down and leaks your fluids all over his sweats. you grind against his fingers, coming down from that high as your skin fleets tremors of electricity.

from beneath you, choso gawks at your beauty. you’re stunning– skin flushed from marijuana and tacky from sweat accumulating but god, you looked like you were glowing. lips parted and glossy, whining and voice throaty as it broke into melodic moans. “my beautiful girl– makin’ a mess all over me. . . go on princess, lemme know who’s makin’ you feel this good, yeah?”

“‘s youuu, only you baby– makin’ it s-so good!” you nod your head, sating his ego as you babble your answer. drool leaks past your lips and dribbles to your chin, trailing downward to the crevice of your boobs.

it’s only then he realises the state of your chest and expertly unclasps the bra with a hand. with your chest now freed, they bounce from the sudden release, and the buds immediately harden from the coolness of the breeze in the room. it’s a no-brainer when choso latches his lips around the stiff bud, nipping and sucking at your nipple while his other hand works at massaging the tender mound.

he moans greedily around your chest, his tongue flat and heavy against your skin as he savours the taste of your skin. he feels as though his senses are heightened– every particle of your body leaves a distinct taste on his tongue, one that is so undoubtedly you, that his cock strains in his sweats, a damp spot amongst the other ones on his lap from where his tip leaks beads of pre come against his lap.

“chosooo,” you whine, your hand slithering between your bodies and trailing down to the string of his sweatpants. despite having just came, your hunger for his dick grows the longer you wait, and so you take matters into your own hand.

time feels rather still, and you can’t tell if you’re actually moving or not– all slump in his hold, but you suppose you managed to grab ahold of his cock when you feel him release your tit with a pop! in favour of hissing at the contact. you’ve gathered slick at your fingertips, fisting around his lengthy dick before slowly pumping the inches.

your fluids lube his dick and ease the slide, your palm rubbing at the underside of his cock. you stroke him languidly, working your way up and down, fingertips reaching his tip and kneading at his slit with your thumb. choso jerks his hips up, always having been a victim to caving in to your touch. his abdominal muscles tense as he pants heavily, sweaty chest rising up and down.

“b-baby, if you keep– fuck, goin’ like that, ‘m gonna finish t-too soon.” he holds at your wrist, but makes no actual attempt to stop you. his skin flushes pink and his matted baby hairs stick to his forehead from sweat building at his hairline, eyebrows pinched in focus.

you hum, interlocking your fingers with his, continuing the jerking of his cock. you lean into his touch, resting your forehead against his and let your eyes fall shut. the sounds your boyfriend lets out from light touching alone makes your pussy wet in arousal yet again, roaring and eager to be filled to the brim with his cum.

“c’mon babyyy,” choso whines, hips rutting into both of your holds. his breath is warm and fans your face, lips ghosting right over yours as you feel the vibrations of his words land on your mouth. his eyes are hazy and you’re certain he’s somewhere floating on the same dimension you’d been when you were cumming just a while ago. “needa c-cum in your, ngh, pretty pussy–”

the guttural moan that chokes out of his throat doesn’t compare to the rush of hot cum that fills your inside as soon as he bottoms out. purple orbs roll to the back of his skull and he lifts his hips up, forcing you to elevate with him as you moan from the penetration. his cock pulsates and spurts loads of creamy cum into your pussy, balls tightening and releasing all the semen he had to offer. his hands grip your ass so tightly, you’re certain he’ll leave bruises.

“motherfucker, shit y/n, y’can’t just– oh fuckin’- ‘s so good, god baby!” curses slip past his lips, body seizing as every single muscle contracts from his orgasm. he’d never felt anything like it before– his toes curled, thighs trembling and balls painfully tight.

he’d never get used to how life-altering nestling in your cunt was, no matter how many times he’d break your pussy open. at the end of the day, you held the most power and control over him, clamping down on his cock so tightly, damn near snatching his soul out through his slit.

his whole body is shuddering, pink lips parted and you lean forward to slot your own lips against his, immediately licking at the roof of his mouth. he moans into you, hands moving up from your thighs to hold at your lower body and kneads the skin delicately, bringing you impossibly closer to him. he can feel your heartbeat thudding through your ribcage, and something about the closeness of your bodies indulges in the intimacy of the matter.

you pull away just barely, the both of you gasping as a string of saliva connects the bottom of both of your lips. you plant your palms against his pecs and push him to rest against the back of the sofa. he’s sprawled against the couch, but once more, his hands never leaving your body as they feel up on your backside. he stares at you in anticipation, chest heaving as he collects himself– he needs to get it together for your pleasure, it’s never about him but solely about you.

“y’better be ready for more. . .” you warn him, shifting your hips up as you feel him semen trickle out of your cunt and leak down to the base of his shaft. he winces when you slowly rock your hips, grinding back and forth on his sensitive dick. “‘cause ‘m far from finished baby– finish what you started.”

“you a-already know this dick ‘s all yours, love, so ride it like y’mean it,” his hands grip at the fat on your hips, guiding your body on his with his help. “don’t shy away now, princess.” it’s effortless, as he’s a rather strong man, and he helps you work your way back and forth, up and down, clockwise circles on his dick. he watches as you soak in the pleasure, head thrown back without a single care in the world, riding him like you needed to cum more than anything.

your breast ricochet with each bounce, jiggling as you hop up and down on his dick. the sounds your pussy makes are fucking lewd– squleches of his cum and your juices mixing at the base of his cock, the sound of your ass clapping echoes loudly, and lest he forgets the way your moans fuse into broken laughs, as if you’ve gone delirious already. as if he’s merely your sex toy, and you’re milking the shit out of him for your own pleasure.

your clit drags at his pelvis when you switch angles, and when you claw at his pectorals, his nipples get caught in your fingers– he’s remarkably embarrassed by the way he mewled at the frottage. your thighs strain as your movements never cease, your pussy sliding down his length entirely, covering every inch of his cock in your fluids. the circumference of the base of his dick is encircled in suds– a mixture of his cum and your slick, the blend sticking at your cunt and inner thighs with every bounce.

tears build in your lash line from the overwhelming pleasure, as your gut is knocked with a familiar tightening sensation. choso held onto the mounds of your ass tightly, whether it’d been to ground you from moving or holding onto dear life, you couldn’t tell, but he’d planted his heels to the carpet on the floor and decided he wanted in on it.

he fucks up into while you grind down– the synchronisation of your movements hitting harder as he’s penetrating deeper into you from this angle. your jaw slackens and your lids rest shut, your body working onto his shaft to bring you to that blissful orgasm. his cock sits heavy and pulsates against your walls, and everytime you arch your back in that specific way, you feel the tip of his dick kiss at your cervix.

it’s all too much, you’re uncertain if you can handle that constant pounding into your sweet spot– it brings stars and galaxies behind your lids, and you feel your soul being pulled to the core of the earth, limbs utterly useless as they fall prey to numbness.

your arms give out before you notice, but you don’t miss the stinging feeling in your scalp at your hair being pulled. you do notice choso has your hair in his grip, holding you up while his other hand pulls your body flush against his. his arm is securely wrapped around your waist, and your back arches as your vision is now limited to the ceiling of your house.

“just, fuck, hold on– promise ‘m gonna get you there, yeah?” he grumbles, breath hot and his voice low as it resonates against the shell of your ear. you mewl and nod your head, hands clawing at his biceps for support. he’s big and beefy beneath your touch, veins prominent and bulging at his pale skin.

choso holds weight to his promise as he slams into you, hips rutting up as he bottoms out entirely into your warm cunt. you scream as he pounds into your pussy, breast bouncing in his face as the skin of his thighs meet your ass in a loud echo. he feels his entire being crumble beneath you, stomach tightening the more you squeeze down on him and cry out his name.

his thrusts are fast and deep– you feel him all in your stomach, puncturing your womb roughly as you’re stuffed with his semen and cock, balls deep. the room reeks of sex and marijuana, but the odour is oddly comforting– so familiar that when a dribble of your sweat lands on his tongue as he laps up at your neck, the salty taste of your fluids drives him into a frenzy.

and it’s as if your souls truly are connected, because your body tenses and all of your muscles clench as you release your juices all over his lap when his semen also intrudes your womb once, rushes of hot cum flooding your pussy.

your moans blend into one, resonating a beautiful harmony into the stillness of your house, as it disappears into the darkness of the night. tears stream down your cheeks and you’re shuddering against him, your body jerking and stuttering in his hold while he empties his load yet again into you. his balls squeeze when you kegel on him, squirting as you clench your ass, grinding down on him to drag out the high even longer.

“perfect fuckin’ pussy– mine, a-all mine, wanna fuck you full of my nut—oh god, fuckin’ love you baby, jus’ take it all f’me— good girl.”

i still don’t like this or him.

#stargirl★rena.#www.tumblr.com/satorena #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #choso kamo x reader #choso x reader #choso kamo smut #choso smut #choso kamo x you #choso kamo x y/n #choso kamo x female reader #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso x female reader #x reader

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burythel1ght · 11 months

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hi!! i am also appalled by the gwen/miguel fics... if it helps i muted all the authors behind those and you can do that too! it'll hide their works from you and you won't have to see them a second time

THANK YOUUU, doing this now while i’m bored at work lmao. you’re a lifesaver 😭🫶

#i’m like 90% sure i read your fic #like an hour ago #i was like ‘hm this user sounds familiar’#didn’t even connect the dots until now #but it was great!!!

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moondirti · 9 days

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simon sees a familiar face. (AO3 mirror) tags: darkfic. ghost x nude model! reader. (given a stage name but no discerning characteristics.) violent intrusive thoughts. objectification. rough sex. marking. dacryphilia. possessiveness. dubcon photo sharing.

It's the slip of her skin in his periphery. Moisturised, gold shimmer body glaze. Tucked up against the bar and nursing a negroni in both hands, her dress riding high up on her thigh. Sticks out like a sore thumb in a pub like this, where seedy men come to drink their woes away. Just a little too clean, prim and perfect polish. Pretty enough to make his teeth hurt.

He has to do a double take before he can be sure. Where he would know her calves, those hands and varnished nails, anywhere, he can hardly believe it until she turns a quarter angle and her face comes into full view. Lips he's seen perked up and glossed into erotic O's. Eyes so often half-cast and sultry, lined in kohl, that it's odd to see them wide like this; looking around, searching for something.

Yeah. Simon knows her. Knows her like the grip of a gun, the rip release of a hand grenade, the flat lining of barrack cot mattresses. Knows her so well that his cock chubs up in an almost pavlovian response, fat and heavy and leaking already, like a bloody sixth former seeing a pair of tits for the first time. In all honesty, this might just be the equivalent for a man like himself. Aching jowls, frothy lips. Ageing, dirty beast – thrown the most delectable fucking bone.

Because it's her. Cut straight from the centrefold of his favourite magazine and pasted a mere four feet away. Just as alluring, as provocative as she is in the poster he'd gifted Johnny on a deployment birthday. The object gracing every page not adhered together with dry cum. The one thing that gets him – and frankly, every other mutt on the task force – through long missions.

He throws back the last of his bourbon and slips his mask back over his chin. The haunt is emptier than usual. He assumes the big guy by the doorway is responsible, no doubt hired to follow her around and scare the creeps away. Simon must count as one – if his intentions, latched like filthy claws in his stomach, are anything to go by – but he's also bigger. Bolder. Probably has tattoos that outlast her bodyguard's experience in the field. So he takes his chances as he stretches up and prowls up to where she's sitting.

"Selene Harlow." It's a stage name, of that he's certain. But he has nothing else to call her by, not having fallen short of searching for her true identity. She's good at keeping herself safe from perverts like him. A good fucking girl, if not a little minx.

"Only on the clock." She smiles softly, dipping the orange peel in and out of her drink. It looks untouched, glass sweating onto the bar top. He thinks of holding her head back by her hair and knocking the concoction down her throat. "You don't look like my date."

Simon makes a sound. "No' your usual type, then?"

"I didn't say that." Her dress is low cut, bandage tight. When she breathes in, he devours the way her chest heaves out of the material. Begging to pop free, or else be ripped open right here. He can't imagine she would be opposed to being stripped in public. Not with her breasts plastered on a million different publications, issues displayed in the illicit material case behind every gas station counter.

"Well, he must be soft in th'head."

She shrugs. "Don't sound so surprised." Simon wonders, if he were to press his thumbs down onto each collarbone, how much pressure it would take to snap them in place. He's always liked the delicate arch of her shoulders, the swan-like column of her neck. With how he fixated he is on them now, he can hardly place the dejection in her voice. "Not a lot of people wanna go out with a girl who does what I do. It was only a matter of time before he found out."

"Can' be too pissed at him, a'suppose."

"Hm?"

"His loss is my gain."

"Aha." A flash of teeth. She turns on the bar stool to fully face him, and her knees knock his. Soft fucking legs, plush like a chew toy and he knows– he knows what they look like completely nude and spread open. But nothing could've quite prepared him for how different it is to see them in real life. To see her – real, fleshly, blood full – and not be able to take. Have to hold himself back despite the way he's pumped himself raw to her arse almost a hundred times now. He lost the plot some time ago. His mind must think of her as his. "Is that what this is?"

And what is this? Simon doesn't have a name for it. All he knows is the way his head itches, the tantalisation crawling in his skin. The sheer self-restraint it takes not to pocket her home and chain her to his bed. He wants to dig his teeth into her cheek.

Instead–

"Could be."

"I think that's up to me." She crinkles in a wily little smile and he chuckles because it's funny. Funny because she takes him to be a good man. But with the way her bodyguard is eyeing him from across the room (fucking muppet), he knows that's not the quality he's projecting. There's the urge to crack a sick joke, something about clipping a bird's wings, just to see her pick up on the rot he carries with him. "You military?"

"Tha' obvious?"

"Hm, no. Wild guess." She straightens her back and the vague gesture she makes with her wrist is enough to drive him up a wall. It sets a timer, ticking time bomb, in his brain that'll detonate if he doesn't get his nasty old hands on her waist. Thirty seconds on the clock. He can never be patient when it comes to sweet things. "Your... stature. And I tend to be popular with servicemen, anyway. What's your name?"

"And why do you wan' to know my name, bird?"

She flutters her lashes, pointedly looking down to where he's bulging in his jeans. Bird is right. She shines like one with pretty feathers, begs to be plucked, because why else would mother nature create things like her if not to appease men like him?

"Figure you'd want me to moan it later."

And it's like watching one fly into a cage on its own accord. His blood boils hot and thin, flooding his head until his eyes strain with something ferocious. "Why wait." Simon says. He can't wrap an arm around her waist fast enough, scooping her from her seat and wrapping her tight against his side. Tight enough that, if she changed her mind, she wouldn't be able to flap her way out of it. "Name's Simon, and there's a bathroom 'round back."

It's nasty. Depraved. Graffiti lines all four walls and it's no coincidence that the one he pins her up against looks the filthiest. Something in him craves to see her degraded (the same part that marked a picture of her in black ink, chicken-scratch body writing proclaiming her as his), brought down to the same peg that he occupies. Beasts with too much baggage stored in their marrow. Humans, men, with moral compasses that skew a tad too far left. Animals. Animalistic.

"I don– Don't usually do this..." She breathes, excuse stuttered through little whimpers as he mouths at her jaw. Maybe she's afraid of living up to her name, or whatever image Selene Harlow projects. Not a prostitute, he can almost hear her say. Tastes the fear of misconception, sour on otherwise tart skin. He hums and tugs her breasts free with one, scarred paw.

"Doesn' really matter, bird. Were fuckin' made for it." He squeezes the two mounds, pinches knotted nipples and rolls them between his fingers until she cries. Her voice breaks in little bubbled sobs – starts crying so fast that, christ, it must be some sort of record – and he aches in his trousers. Ready to burst if he doesn't bully his cock into a hole soon, just like she's been ready to be unravelled all night. "Made to be mine, yeah? Bloody 'ell, jus' look at you."

Frayed little tapestry. If he weren't so mad with lust, he'd obsess what drove her to this point. What brought her to some shitty pub in Manchester to meet a good for nothing lemon. Why she mewls and completely melts into him when he slaps her tits, just to see the way they jiggle. He's an ugly bastard, definitely punching just by breathing the same air as her, and yet she's so perfectly willing. Flaying herself open, skinned alive. Gasping selfish gulps of air when he finally pulls off his mask to sink his canines into her shoulder.

He's so used to seeing her posed, perfectly still. To have her like this, a trapped worm underneath him, feels like concentrated lightning on every artery. Overstimulating. Paralysing. He never thought he'd see the day where she exposes herself in motion: folding her dress up over her wide hips, slipping soaked panties down to her ankles.

(In fact, he vividly remembers brooding over an interview her magazine had added to the corner of a cover page, once. Selene Harlow tells all! Answers inquiries on video pornography and more!

I don't think I'm the right person for that sort of scene. Not much of an actress, I'm afraid.)

Not that her feigning was ever a concern. Simon knows the giddy gossamer over her eyes can't be artificially replicated. She's too clumsy, too amateur in the way she readies herself for him. Used to doing all this prep in a frilly dressing room with apathetic staff members directing her. Sways a bit on her heels and holds onto his thick forearms as she widens her stance. He stands until she's steady, then drops to his knees in search of the star of this show.

And the sight is as much a bludgeon to his self control as seeing her for the first time was, trigger for the feral mongrel that barks and chomps on his ribcage. Her cunt is just as perfect up close in this grimy bathroom as it is well lit, professionally oiled, and printed on coated paper. A little fuzzy, swollen enough that it flowers open for him on its own. Shyly inviting him to dig his nose right under her clit and inhale, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the scent of her, undiluted. Salivate blooms around his teeth.

When he flattens his tongue against it, she tries to find purchase in the roots of his shorn hair. Nails scrambling along the buzzcut until she forfeits and clamps her hand behind his ears, head thrown back to knock against the wall. If he were a nice man, he would spend hours buried between her legs. Sated by licking her slick from its source, like a kitten given a bowl of cream. Would make her cum until she forgets how to keep quiet, until she screams his name loud enough for the world knows their muse is off the market now.

But if he were a nice man, he wouldn't be defiling her here. He would've taken her out to the Greek place that never seems to have room for him alone, and then back to her apartment, where he'd drop her off with a chaste kiss and a promise to call her tomorrow.

So Simon combs through her lips once, twice, three times. Coats her in enough spit to be able to shove two fingers with little fuss, and scissors them apart. The little thing stretches to accommodate his ministrations immediately, clutch swallowing him up to the second knuckle and sucking around him when he spreads her hole for his leering eye. It's cute – so fucking cute how she clenches and keens and cries. Neck arched up above him. Apple of eden, blank canvas. His fingers leave her cunt as he rises to bite into it.

(Truthfully, she could've done with more prep. She wasn't lying when she said she doesn't do this often, whatever this is. But the way silver pebbles brim on her lash-line makes his chest twist, the dog rearing on its haunches, ready to pounce – and he thinks he'd like to see her babble in pain as he splits her open on his cock.)

"Gonna take you home after this, y'hear? Fuck you well 'n' good, all proper like. Fold ya over a mattress and print my cock on your guts, birdie. Never let you forget it. "

"S-Si! Simon, please. I n-need..."

Ichor beads in the shape of his teeth, streaking oxygenated red down her throat. He makes a mess of it, smearing it across the marred patch of skin, and brings the fluid up to her face to rub it into her cheek. The type of marking he'd reserve for his third or fourth going with someone – if anyone ever lasts that long – but is absolutely necessary right now. Here, with her. Technically their hundredth something time together, if he were deranged enough to count the various times he'd spent himself over her spreads.

But nothing can supersede the truth of the matter. He streaks blood along her face and licks it off in a show of merciless possession. Pretty things like her get plucked off streets and ruined everyday, despite her cynicism on her value, and he can point to at least three other men by name who would slaughter to be in his place. Best to stake his claim now, clamp a collar on the exotic fowl he pulled down from the sky.

"Need wha', hm?" His tongue laps at her cheek, laving over the contour of her nose and swiping right under her eye to catch the tears that freely fall. She winces when he gets too close, hands faltering along his waistband.

"Your... d-dick. Please, please. Just wanna be fucked, Simon."

He plants a rough kiss onto her mouth, all teeth and tongue, and finally ladles himself free of his jeans.

Just wanna be fucked.

Daft, silly girl.

She should've chosen anyone else.

It takes a bit of pressure to feed himself into her cunt, pinning either leg to the sides of his hips as he guides his cock toward the opening. If she was putty before, she's positively liquid now, boneless rag doll slumped onto him. Dead weight. Letting him take control of this fight. Content to do nothing, slack-jawed and empty eyed as her hot walls come to embrace him completely. Her breath halts, the air recalibrating to just the sound of his ragged grunts, and he considers it an invitation to wrap a fist around her neck.

"I'll do more than jus' fuck you, pretty thing. Won' ever let you out of my sight."

And he means it.

It's impossible to withdraw completely from her – vacuum sealed too tight, too good, around him. So he fucks in short thrusts instead, snapping his pelvis back, only to shove forward once her legs begin to flail about. It's brutal even by his standards, rough in a way that supplants pleasure with pain. A small pity surfaces when her lip trembles, discomfort wringing her darling face up like a dish towel. Wet and pathetic, but he sneaks his free hand down to knead at her swollen clit anyway.

Like oil, it slips and hardens, tense enough that he knows she won't last long if he keeps it up.

Simon feels his own release encroaching. Unfurling at the base of his spine to form something cruel and primal. His vision tunnels to fixate on her – not the filthy bathroom or the lewd squelch of her pussy taking him in. Not the banging on the door by a customer desperately needing to piss, or otherwise, her bodyguard concerned at the choked screams carved from her lungs. Just her. Little bird.

The howling in his head doesn't stop, but it sure as hell quiets down when she soaks the coarse hairs at the base of his cock. Squirts, off-white fluid gushing from her and trickling onto the tiled floor. His movements grow stilted, off-rhythm, at the sight. His want grows claws and scales, grows wants that have wants. Beastly. He sees red.

"N-noghonbirfcontraahl." She gasps, suffocated still by the fingers pressing crescent-shaped scars beneath her jaw.

"Don' give a shit." He growls, then cums.

(Really, he doesn't. To see her swell up with his child is just one more added temptation, carrot on a stick. He bucks like a rabid animal and bookmarks that thought away for later.)

His seed doesn't stay put when he pumps her full of it. It gathers and drips out of her, undeterred by the barrage of his softening cock. When he pulls out, it draws milky treks down her legs. There's the instinct to shovel it back into her, tape her lips shut until the spend takes; but as he pockets her panties and helps her readjust her dress (after polishing himself clean on the expensive fabric), he finds he quite likes the thought of parading her around like this.

"C'mon," He nips her earlobe. "let's walk you home."

Simon does end up making good on his promise. They hardly get any sleep that night, sweating on every available surface her flat affords. By the end of it, she's so tuckered out that he has to lift her to bed. Hardly cognisant as he strips to his boxers and sidles up right next to her.

What doesn't escape her notice, however, is when he pulls his phone out to snap a picture of her like this. Fucked to oblivion, puffy pussy oozing about three loads worth of cum.

"W-what are you–" Stuttered. Panicked, like a pet that has at last realised it's been caged.

"Shhhh, birdie. You're my model, ain't you? Let me show you off, yeah? Won' let it get into the wrong hands."

"Promise?" She whimpers, tucking into his broad chest. She isn't in the condition to give her proper assent, but he takes it anyway, kissing both eyes and carding his fingers across her scalp.

"Promise." He mutters, then sends the portrait off. "Jus' to men like me."

Sgt. Garrick: ?! Is that Capt. Price: Christ, Simon. Someone ought to muzzle you. Johnny: I don't believe you. Johnny: Pick up my calls. Johnny: SIMON.

#should've made this a proper fic #it's longer than i expected it to be #anyway.#simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon 'ghost' riley #simon riley #ghost #x female reader #call of duty #fanfiction

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youryanderedaddy · 3 months

Text

Yandere! Crazy ex boyfriend

tw: female reader, non - con, heavy degradation, slut-shaming, abuse/violence, mockery of depression, suicidal ideation, obsessive behavior, death threats, dark

It's 2 a.m. and you can't sleep - you keep turning and burying your head into the soft, warm pillow, but something is off. The moon is too bright, coming in from the gap between your heavy curtains. The crickets outside are too loud, playing around and singing the same old melody over and over again. The static silence of the old radio tucked under the drawers is too repetitive, too predictable. All in all, you can feel it in your bones; something is wrong. Very, very wrong.

You hear the steps next. That sinister laughter - getting louder and louder, someone screaming at the top of their lungs, the echo flooding through the thin walls of your small shared flat. Someone's fist is gripping the lock with uneccessary cruelty as if trying to knock it out of the handle. The key falls down in one sharp motion, and your heart stops completely once the door opens with a squeaky, familiar bang - it still makes you jump even after all those months.

"Aww, baby!" The man exclaims, leaning against the door. You're not sure if you are hallucinating due to the countless hours of lost sleep, or there is actually smoke coming out of his old black trenchcoat. You're not even sure if he's trully here, or if this is yet another nightmare. "You didn't bother with locks this time!" He continues, smiling with childlike glee - but you know him too well. He's never peaceful. He's never cheerful. Any indication of happiness the monster exhibits is meant to confuse and trick his prey, and you're not falling for his tricks again. You already got burnt one too many times.

"Does that mean you missed me?" He tilts his head, almost pouting at you. He's all disheveled - a total wreck. The curly, unruly hair you once loved to caress and play with now just seems shaggy and unkept, sticking out like an explosion. His eyes are dark, well, darker, bloodshot, barely recognizable from the warm pots of honey that used to make you melt against him. He's lost weight, yet weirdly enough seems to have gained some muscle. You can't help, but think that it simply looks weird, unnatural even. Adam, the one you remember, was never strong - he was never threatening, never even raised his voice at you. But that was years ago in the sweet, distant dreams of the past, and that boy had died the moment you two moved in together. That's when your hell trully began.

"Were you trying to give me easy access, baby? Hm?" He smirks, interrupting your stream of consciousness. If you were unsure of his physicallity, of his existence, it's bright clear now - because you can never mistake that taunting, humiliating curve to his voice, the one he only uses when he's mad. Really, really mad. "Knew I would be back?"

You take a deep breath, slowly nodding along - maybe if you play nice, he'd just go away. Maybe this time you won't end up in cuts and bruises, all memories, good or bad, completely wiped off your drugged out hazy brain.

"Of course you did." Your ex boyfriend humms in satisfaction, taking a single step towards you - and it makes you tremble all over, no matter how much you wish you could remain calm and collected at the face of Death himself. "Because I told you so, no?" He clenches his teeth, raising his head so his eyes would meet yours. You feel like a deer caught before a trigger guard with an unstable trigger, one second away from being shot in the heart. "I told you-" He steps closer. "That I'll be back-" Another step. "Didn't I, princess?"

You nod again, unable to produce a sound. You almost wish he brought his gun so this little torture session would end quicker. Almost.

"Aww, look at you trying so hard to please me. It's adorable, baby." The man coos, his knee sliding across the edge of your bed. Fear takes a hold of your lungs, squeezing them in until you feel like you're seeing stars - and then Adam climbs on top of you. It all happens so quickly - one moment he's far away, and then he's towering over you, his hot breath ghosting over your sweaty neck, baby hairs sticking out with shivers. You can't shake the terrifying, unescapable feeling that you've been here before. That you somehow always end up underneath him, begging for your life - for mercy he won't ever grant you.

"I wonder where all that enthusiasm was when you decided to run on me." The white part of his eyes suddenly illuminates, brows raised together - he looks deranged. "Huh?" He looks at you, expecting an answer, yet you can't think of one. Your brain is turning to mush, consumed by raw panic - but why does it matter? Whatever you say he'll find a way to use against you. "Answer me, you fucking bitch!" He hisses, voice dropping to a diabolical whisper as his fist snaps around your throat like a metal collar. This seems to break off your stupor, and you open your mouth, ready to yell at whoever is still awake.

"Don't you dare fucking scream, cunt." Adam grips your jaw with one hand, crushing your cheeks into each other. "If I hear a single word come out of that filthy little mouth of yours, I am going to slit your fucking throat." His lips twist in a big sadistic grin you would have wanted to punch had you had the strength to move your arm around. Instead you whimper, defeated. Even after everything, your stupid self preservation instinct won't let you die - so it sacrifices the only thing you have left, your dignity. "And then in the morning your little friends will find you drowning in your own blood." He lowers his face, cold dead lips tracing the rough lines of your collarbone.

"A pretty picture for sure." He bites his lower lip, imagining it for just a second. "Bu-ut I know that even a depressed, suicidal little attention whore like you wouldn't want her friends to be sad." The man adds teasingly, and you can feel the bile back up into your stomach, burning and acidic. You may actually throw up all over him if you're not careful. And then he'd kill you for sure. "I mean, you seem to care for these pesky bugs oh-so much. It'd be a pity to force them to clean up your remains-"

"N-no, that's not true. I don't care about them, I only care about you!" You lie through your teeth, hot, salty tears pricking your eyes as you deny the love you have for the only people who care about you - the ones who basically saved you from a life of abuse and suffering. But apparently nothing good lasts, not when it comes to you. "Adam, I only love y-"

He backhands you - the slap echoes through the roof. Ouch.

"Don't say-" Your ex boyfriend grunts, roughly shoving you down. You take a shallow breath, letting the sting settle in. It's going to leave a red ugly handprint all over your cheek - and yet you stupidly thought your little confession was going to make him happy. Your anchors, the straws that used to buy you time, howerer rare and far in between, are all gone now. You used them up. You've run out of time, out of trick, out of will to keep fighting.

But you know he'll never make good on his threats. He'd never actually kill you - he doesn't love you enough to rid you of this miserable obsession that ties you together. And yet you tremble every time you feel the graze of his knife against your skin - you cower whenever he raises his hand. And you break down when he holds you close, hoping, praying that this time his embrace would prove just suffocating enough for you to stop breathing all together. It never does.

"Don't say you love me. You don't love me." Adam hisses in your ear, venom dripping off each word. "And I don't even care if you love me." He turns you around, pushing your face into your pillow - muffling your cries into weak, hiccuping sobs. "You're nothing." He swallows, averting his gaze to your lower body - yanking your shorts down with little concern as to whether they'd rip or not. "You amount to nothing, you're lower than dirt. You're just a fucked up little bitch." The man keeps mouthing off, and you can't decide what hurts more - his nails digging into your hips, or the razor sharp insults. " I never want you to forget that you deserve everything I give you."

You cry out as his massive length enters you with absolutely no preparation. It hurts - you're dry and it chaffs against your walls with nothing to make it slide freely, bruising your cervix. Your muscles are trying to push the foregin object out, but it keeps pushing in and out of you in forceful uniform thrusts. Between the waves of sharp and stinging-hot pain you manage to form a coherent thought - and you're surprised. Surprised that the man is even able to stay hard when all he feels right now is anger. Not love or affection, not even lust. Just anger. Surprised your body is still going even after your mind has given up. Surprised that, even despite all your protests and agony, you are growing used to this.

"I gave you everything." Adam start off again, picking up the pace of his thrusts. "Everything - but you're too much of a selfish whore to see." He pulls your hair back so you'd face him from beneath - then he slaps you with all force. "I want to mess up that pretty little face of yours." His hand connects to your cheek once again. You know you'll wake up all puffy and blue tomorrow morning - if you even wake up. "I want you so goddamn ugly no one wants you anymore." He pulls you in by your shirt, smashing his lips against yours with a brutal force - as if he's trying to become one with you, and break your face at the same time. "I want you so ruined-" He kisses you again, teeth running into teeth - yet he's the one to bite you first. "And lonely that you have no one else to turn to."

"I want you broken." He pulls away just to stare into your empty eyes, voice now back to a whisper. "As broken as me."

#yandere #yancore #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere oneshot #yandere x you #yandere male x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere smut

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lovebugism · 2 months

Note

if you're still looking for shy reader ones (with a hint of smuttiness) maybe Eddie finds shy reader's sex toys?

ty! — eddie munson stumbles upon your sex toy and shy!you learns to cope (shy!fem!r, fluff, allusions to smut 18+)

Twisted in thin sheets and Eddie’s Hellfire shirt, you fight for slumber in the honeyed haze of your bedroom. You rest on your stomach, arms wrenched around the pillow you clutch to your face. A heavy, comforting weight smooths over your back in the familiar shape of Eddie Munson. A lazy smile tugs at your lips.

“How are we supposed to nap if you won’t stop touching me?” you mumble as the boy sprinkles chaste kisses to your jaw and neck.

“Can’t help it. You’re too pretty,” he slurs, still sleepy but trying to fight it.

The tip of his nose traces your pulse point when he moves down to kiss the bare skin of your shoulder — where the neck of your shirt has fallen slightly down. Chill bumps erupt beneath his touch. You feel his smile contort against your skin.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it,” Eddie teases. “I know you do.”

“Hm,” you hum, writhing slightly between the mattress and his body. “I do like it,” you confess in a half-muffled murmur.

“Yeah?”

You nod against the pillow. “Very much…”

His bare stomach settles flush against your back when he rises on his forearms. His crotch ruts subtly (only sort of unintentionally) against your ass — cock already half-hard and aching. His plush mouth brushes the shell of your ear. You fight back a shiver.

“Have any rubbers?” he mumbles.

“Top drawer. On the right.”

Eddie scoffs and sits back on his haunches, taking his warmth and the covers with him. He swats your ass with a rough, but not unkind hand, before rising off the squeaking mattress. “You minx,” he chuckles. “What the hell do you have a pack of rubbers here for?”

You giggle weakly into the pillow. “The same reason everyone has ‘em, Eds.”

“Who else are you using them with, huh?”

You’d roll your eyes at him if they were open. “No one,” you scoff. “You’ll be pleased to find them unopened.”

With your eyes still shut, you only hear the squeaking of an opened drawer. You wait for the sound of Eddie ripping the box open like a total maniac, but it never comes. The strange silence makes your chest ache.

“Well…” Eddie scoffs in a teasing lilt. “What is this?”

You lift your heavy head from the pillow to glance at him over your shoulder. Squinting with tired eyes, you find the boy on the exact opposite side of the dresser you pointed him towards. Your veins flood with an ice-cold horror.

“I said on the right!” you shout, rising from the mattress and rushing towards him with a newfound life.

“This is the right!” Eddie argues, then makes an L shape with both his hands. His brows raise beneath his fluffy bangs when he realizes he’s gotten them backwards. “…Oh.”

You slam the drawer shut, as if the damage hasn’t already been done.

You’re not sure what’s more embarrassing, actually — the fact that your boyfriend’s just seen your drawer of sex toys, or the fact that they’re audibly jostling against one another while you try to hide them. Both equally make you so mortified you could die.

“Hey!” Eddie shouts. “I was looking at those!”

You glare at him. “Don’t make fun!”

“I’m not making fun!” he assures through a set of boyish giggles. He gestures wildly with ringed hands and tells you, “You’re a girl with needs, babe— I’m actually glad you’re taking care of yourself when I’m not around.”

“Eddie!” you shout, equal parts scolding and whining.

He laughs again, louder now but no less sincere. “I’m serious! You don’t have to be embarrassed about it, okay? It’s normal. And it doesn’t bother me. Alright? No big deal.” He tilts his wild head to his shoulder and smiles lazily down at you. “Well. As long as you’re not planning on trading me for Mr. Sparkling Pink Vibrator in there—”

You swat half-heartedly at his chest, face screwed with a distant horror. “I said don’t make fun!” you grouse and try to step back from him.

Eddie pulls you back by your wrists, making you stumble into his chest. He ducks down until the tip of his nose brushes the bridge of yours. With a bright pink and crooked beam, he tells you, “I’m kidding, alright? I’m just messin’. I’ll leave you alone about it, okay?”

“Promise?” you murmur in a mousy voice.

“Mhm. I promise,” he nods once, then can’t help but smirk. “Unless, you know, you ever wanna use ‘em together…”

Your nose scrunches at the offer. Not because you don’t like it (your stomach is warm and swirling at the thought), but because you didn’t like he would. “You’d wanna do that? With me?”

“Yeah. You know, whenever you want. No big deal…” he shrugs and tries to be cool about it.

But the thought of pinning you beneath his body, piercing you with his cock, and holding the pretty vibrator to your clit while you scream for him — unable to decide whether you want more of his merciless pleasure or if you can’t take any of it anymore — makes his hands tremble with yearning.

“Though… Now would be preferable.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #stranger things imagine #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble

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satoruhour · 9 months

Text

悟

a/n:a repost from my old blog ♡ / contains one sex joke / 0.9k

“satoru, come to bed, it’s late,” yawning, you pat the space beside you. he’s doing his nightly skincare routine, patting his face gently with the retinol serum he just bought.

“ya sure you don’t want to try it out?” gojo offers out the dropper, a hairband cutely pushed up to prevent his bangs from interfering.

“i don’t like slimey stuff on my face.” and you cringe, realising your mistake too late.

“and yet you give me your face to cu—”

“shut the fuck up,” you severely miss him, pillow landing on the floor beside him. he didn’t even bother to activate his technique, laughing out loud at your failed attempt.

gojo never did switch it on when he was with you. not when he decided that he’d give his all to you, not even he asked you to move in with him on a desperate full of nightmares, not when you first said i love you.

gojo satoru was soft around you, a sight that many would like to see yet only disclosing it to you. the you who got him falling when you’d hang out with his students, giving as much pointers as you could on cursed energy. that was when he decided, he’s sure. but again, there were countless other times where gojo recalls falling deeper and deeper in love with you. he smiles at that, capping the skin care bottle before quite literally jumping onto the bed.

“argh... satoru, what the hell? you’re heavy!” his weight was crushing you, emphasised more when he leans down to plant kisses on your features. the feigned anger turns to giggling and shielding hands which he easily seizes between his fingers.

“s-stop! ’toru!” your smile is like the first few hues of dusk. it makes him feel all warm and mushy inside, something the strongest normally wouldn’t have the luxury of feeling. satoru says, fuck it, because even i deserve love, even i deserve to be held. he repeats those words you said to him the first time he broke down in front of you, and he does it all the time, now.

gojo is brought back to reality when you cup his cheeks gently, not minding the slimey stuff as you caress his skin. your hands accommodate his smile, cheeks filling up with how he’s grinning down at you and you feel dizzy with the immense love you have for him.

“you’re insanely beautiful, satoru,” you say it like it wouldn’t boost his ego, but you can’t care much when that much is true, noticing how much his hair resembles starlight and how his azure eyes catch the moonlight so perfectly.

gojo could say the same about you.

he sucks in a breath when he hears the compliment, the familiar cocky smirk and corny line lingering on his lips — he figured it’s just different when the words come from you.

“say it again.”

“hm? you’re beautiful, terribly b—” your mouth parts in surprise when the other lowers himself to your side, which prompts you to lie on your lone shoulder.

“no, my love, i meant my name.” gojo pulls you closer, lighting your skin with flames.

“oh! okay! uhm, sa— toru?” you giggle, the name falling weirdly from your lips now that you were demanded to say it. you try again, “satoru.”

your lover smiles, scooting closer, “again.”

“satoru.” the syllables leaving your lips makes him feel dizzy and giddy. while he enjoys being told his voice sounds like silk and syrup, he finds that it fits you better, bringing his face to rest only inches from yours.

“again.”

“satoru,” you whisper, a shy smile overtaking your lips. soon, they’re captured by gojo’s, moving tenderly against yours. you’re certain you see the sky painted in many different colours before your eyes close, the mere thought of gojo sending you reeling and cheeks flushing.

gojo’s kisses are slow tonight, savouring every part of your mouth before he slips his tongue in, entwining with yours as he continues to make you fall harder. it works. breathlessly, you smile into the kiss to hopefully get a bit of air, feeling the reply of a grin on your lips when his irises open up to look at yours.

“love you.” you murmur, ghosting along his lips before he smashes his lips against yours again, albeit clumsily that you two let out collective laughs.

people only ever call him gojo satoru, the strongest. he’s never found much identity, always a pawn for the higher-ups to play with, but when sa-to-ru falls from your lips? god, he can compare it to being caught in cupid’s arms. you give meaning to his name — satoru, satoru, satoru, you whisper, knowing that it meant enlighten, and he’s certain that’s all you do whenever you’re around.

you’re always lighting up his life, always loving him with no restraint.

“angel?” gojo whispers in between kisses. you respond sleepily, tracing incoherent patterns along his chest. the words are caught in his throat when you fingers go over the 悟 of his name, three syllables packaged into a single character. he didn’t expect you to remember, but it breathes some life back into him when you do it over his heart. he can’t remember the last time he let someone trace his name so intimately.

“your first name is beautiful, satoru, just like you,” you peck his lips. “now rest, you have a long day tomorrow.”

“i love you too,” the other replies a little late. his heart clenches up at the sight of you, caged and safe in his arms that he isn’t sure what to do with his hands. “i love you. i love you. i love you so much.”

with one last lingering kiss, you both succumb to slumber in peace, with gojo satoru’s first name in the palm of your hand, and his last name aching to take its place in front of your own.

#writing sounds a little different bc it’s from last year !!!!#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo satoru #gojo smut #jjk drabbles #jjk fluff #jjk scenarios #satoru gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader

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puppetmaster13u · 5 months

Text

Prompt 102

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. In for ten seconds, out for eight. Alright. Okay. “Let me get this straight,” he didn’t motion to the three teens- or not teens even if two apparently looked like they were- but it was a close thing. “You-”

Phantom perked up, white hair flickering with what he was pretty sure were stars as they turned away from the window looking out into space. “-are two years old.” The fae-esque being who looked more like a fourteen year old gave a half-distracted nod. Which, for a toddler, they were paying attention pretty well.

“You-” Klarion looked up from where he was fiddling with the cuffs that had been on him, cat sprawled on his shoulder now that it was out of the carrier. “-are six?” Another distracted nod, the apparently-child seemingly enamored with the sounds the cuffs made when they clinked together.

“And you-” He turned towards Marvel, who shrank back before seemingly steeling themself. “-are in fact ten.” The… well they had thought demigod but apparently all three were some sort of realms-being, which had apparently made Constantine pale and start cursing before stomping out of the Watchtower. Another nod and shaky thumbs up.

Alright. Okay. They had in fact let a ten-year old join the league, which wouldn’t have been so bad if they had known. Especially the fact that apparently Marvel was only half-human, which suddenly explained so much about how he didn’t know so many things about a human life. Which-

“You,” he turned towards Phantom again to make sure he was listening before returning his attention to Marvel. “And you have both lived at least a year in the human realm with human companions, but your-” He turned his gaze towards the ravenette in the center. The six year old apparently. “-experience with the human realm is literally just with the Light.”

Yet another distracted nod. Okay. Bruce was tempted to scream in a room for the entire situation that had cropped up from the single action of taking Klarion’s familiar and then the boy himself into custody. Then again, it was honestly a much better thing they had apparently caught this.

“Alright,” he sighed, suddenly feeling incredibly exhausted. “To make sure I have all of this correct-” Because it was already a shitshow and the amount of shouting had absolutely spooked the child. To the point he’d- according to Marvel- made what was apparently some sort of very distressed noise that had made both him and Phantom running. Or rather flying and portaling.

“-in the realms, people there make friends through fighting,” Bruce pauses to make sure he got that part correct. The origin of this entire misunderstanding with the chaos-lord. Lordling?

All three nodded, Klarion losing interest in the cuffs and starting to pet his cat. Familiar. Everyone had referred to it as a familiar and Marvel had appeared utterly horrified that they had taken said familiar away. Somehow he was the one the trio were currently trusting and weren’t doing the same towards any of the other league members.

“And you have been trying to make friends with the Jr team, which they have been taking as an attack due to this miscommunication.” Honestly they should have gotten more information, though he couldn’t exactly blame any of the teens, what with everything they were currently dealing with.

“... is there any sort of guardian or something you might have, that can be contacted? Or anyone that could help prevent a situation like this from happening again?” All three avoided his eyes, suddenly finding things like the table and walls very interesting.

Oh. Hm. This could be a problem.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #prompts #Bruce is so done #Danny: I would have a guardian but the observants locked him up in his clocktower 'cause he used to date the king #Marvel: Does Tawny count?? Like he's a tiger but he also talks and is sapient...#Klarion: Mother Chaos is busy so dropped me off in this world to play #Bruce: Oh no #Bruce already filling out temporary custody papers: Oh No #Bruce: Do any of you know how to do human things #Danny: Oh my human caretakers were mad scientists-#Bruce: OH NO #Marvel: Oh when I'm smaller the street kids help me out #Bruce grabbing a blanket: OH NO #Klarion: I am doing good at being human a completely normal thing to want a good grade in #Bruce already bundling them up: OH NO #They all have familiars lmao #Klarion has Teekl the cat #Danny has Cujo the dog #Billy has Tawny the tiger #JL in the other room having a breakdown or five #Why yes they were fighting a literal child #And yes apparently they did let in another child and literal toddler #Danny: Hold on can I at least get my sister before we go anywhere #Bruce: Hnnnn #His kids are going to laugh at him for bringing home 4 kids

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yoongiseesawmp3 · 11 months

Text

cupid - seungcheol (m)

summary: brother’s best friend!seungcheol. you move in with your brother joshua while you look for a new place, so you finally meet his best friend and roommate seungcheol. you’ve only heard stories, so you’re not prepared for the good looks or the charm that he constantly exudes. after a really bad date, you need someone to save you, and with joshua mia, seungcheol comes to the rescue.

word count: 9.3k

warnings: smut!!! afab reader. unprotected sex. gendered terms (pretty girl, reader referred to as sister/sis). thigh riding. a little oral (m receiving).

masterlist

“jesus, how many boxes do you have?” joshua complains as you hand him another box of books to lug into his apartment.

“only a couple more,” you tell him. “these are all the things i couldn’t fit in storage.”

“get a bigger unit next time,” your brother grumbles as you start the walk back into his building.

“no,” you say stubbornly, and you can almost hear him roll his eyes. “why did you park so far away?”

“why are you complaining!” he shrieks. “i’m doing something very nice for you! be grateful!”

“i am,” you say as you rush to open the door for him, and he quietly thanks you. “seriously, you don’t know how much this is helping me, big bro. i was about to have a breakdown trying to find a place before my old lease ended.”

“i heard,” joshua laughs. “mom called me the other week and told me to check on you, she thought you were losing it.”

“yeah, well,” you sigh, “if i had to deal with those roommates any longer i was going to.”

“so you’re looking for a place by yourself?” joshua asks as the elevator dings. he lets you go in first, reminding you of what floor to press before you respond.

“yeah, i can finally afford one, so i figured it would be nice to have my own space.”

“i can understand that,” he nods.

“you happy living with your roommates?” you ask. “not ready to give up your frat boy days from college?”

“shut up,” he says. “not all of us got good jobs right after graduation. i need roommates if i wanna live in this area.”

“and remind me of their names again?” you ask, the elevator stopping on your floor. you let joshua go first, following him down the hall and trying to remember the unit number.

“well there’s seungcheol, or cheol,” josh starts. “you haven’t met him yet, he’ll be home later.” he unlocks the door and lets you in as he goes on. “and then mingyu-”

“i remember him,” you say happily, glad to know there’ll be a familiar face here.

“and i remember the little crush you used to have on him,” joshua smiles evilly.

“i did not!”

“hm, you sure?”

“swear on your life.”

“whatever,” he laughs. “anyway, he’s got a girlfriend now, and we haven’t seen him here for longer than a couple hours since they started dating. so you can stay in his room until you find a place.”

“oh no, i couldn’t-”

“he doesn’t mind,” joshua waves you off, your box placed ungracefully on the floor. “seriously, he doesn’t even keep his stuff here anymore. it won’t be an issue.”

“if you say so,” you sigh. “ok, one more trip?”

“nope,” joshua shakes his head before laying on the couch. “you’ve used up all your favors for today.”

“what a helpful brother you are,” you deadpan. “give me the keys. i’ll go get the rest of my stuff. alone!”

“sounds good!” josh replies, tossing his keys to you dangerously. “don’t get lost!”

“no promises!” you shout back, locking the door behind you as you go. you thankfully don’t have much left to bring up, so you’re able to grab a majority of your things this trip. what’s left you can get later, because you’re exhausted. now that you know you have a bed and not an air mattress to sleep on, the idea of laying down is becoming more and more appealing. only problem with you grabbing so many things is now you can’t open the door on your own. thankfully, a guy who must live here too rushes over to hold it for you, nodding when you thank him for the help. he catches the elevator for you both before it closes, sticking his arm out so the doors won’t close in on you as you bring your things inside.

“what floor?” he asks, and you start to reply when you see your floor already selected.

“oh, you’ve got it already,” you tell him, and he nods. end of the conversation, it seems, until you get to the floor and start walking in the same direction. you slow down, waiting for him to maybe turn off at a different door, but, yep, he’s unlocking the door to joshua’s apartment. you stand in the hallway stunned for a moment before you go up and knock the door, not wanting to dig for the keys now that your hands are full. mystery man comes to the door, and you stutter out a greeting.

“don’t tell me you lost my keys already,” joshua calls from within the apartment, and the man, who must be seungcheol, looks between you both.

“you’re joshua’s sister?” he asks, and you nod. he steps aside, letting you in, as he says, “sorry, i didn’t realize. i’m seungcheol.”

“i pieced that together,” you smile. “nice to meet you. thanks for letting me stay here a while.”

“no problem,” he replies. “joshua didn’t really give us a choice anyway.”

“josh you said they were fine with me being here!” you whine, looking for your brother, who pops his head out of the kitchen with a smirk.

“he’ll get used to it. you hungry, y/n?”

“starving.”

“cheol?”

“i can eat,” he shrugs, eyeing you carefully as you put your things down. josh didn’t say his sister was hot. well, that would be weird. he just didn’t say much about you other than you’re a couple years younger and in need of a place to crash, so the fact that cheol can’t take his eyes off of you is a bit conflicting for the man. he looks away before you can catch him staring, clearing his throat before he says, “um, i’m gonna go wash up.”

“oh, can you show me where the bathroom is?” you ask.

“uh, sure,” cheol says awkwardly, walking down the hall as you follow. he points to one door and says, “that’s joshua’s room, not sure if he said that already. your’s is back there,” he points to a door further down on the right, and then to the door behind you, “that’s your bathroom. you’ll share with your brother.”

“it’s like i’m a kid again,” you joke, and cheol smiles softly. “where’s your room?”

“what?” cheol sputters.

“well is there another bathroom? you said josh and i would share this one, i’m just curious,” you go on. “sorry if i’m prying.”

“no, yeah, um, i have the master suite since i found the place for us,” he explains. “the guys let me have it as a thanks for doing all the apartment hunting.”

“it’s a nice place,” you note, and he hums in agreement.

“ok, well, um, i’m going,” he says, pointing to his room.

“right, right, sorry,” you say, waving him off. you step into the bathroom to rinse your face off, removing some of the sweat from your long day. you head back out into the kitchen to bother joshua and he looks up as you walk in.

“so how do you like the place?” he questions, and you tell him it’s nice. without looking at you he asks next, “and how do you like cheol?”

“he’s a little awkward, actually,” you reply. “you sure he’s cool with me staying here? i won’t be here long, if it bothers him.”

“he’ll be fine,” josh waves you off. “he may just be tired. looks like he was coming back from the gym so he’ll be better after his nap and a snack. he’s like a toddler.”

“noted,” you laugh. “you need help with anything?”

“nah, you can start unpacking your stuff,” josh says. “i’ll call you when the food’s ready.”

“joshua?”

“yeah?” he asks, turning to look at you.

“thank you for letting me stay here. really.”

“anytime,” he smiles. “just remember we share a bathroom again, so no long ass showers.”

“way to ruin the moment,” you laugh.

you end up going back to “your” room to change, putting some of your clothes away in mingyu’s empty dresser. he really must spend all his time at that girl’s place, you think. you take your toiletries into the bathroom, squatting in front of the sink so you can arrange them among joshua’s countless bottles. as you’re balancing and trying not to knock over something in an expensive glass bottle, cheol walks down the hallway in a tank top and sweats, water droplets still sticking to his chest. the sight of him booking it takes you by surprise, so you fall onto your ass and shake your head, clearing whatever strange thoughts the sight of a damp seungcheol were bringing to your mind.

meanwhile, cheol joins joshua in the kitchen, opting to sit at the counter while josh finishes the noodles. he wants to say something about you, but isn’t sure how to bring it up without seeming weird. he also doesn’t have much time before you come out of your room, so cheol just goes for it.

“um, does y/n need help moving anything else, you think?” cheol offers, and josh looks over his shoulder nonchalantly.

“you can ask her,” he shrugs. “i’m tapped out for the night though, so i’m sure she is too.”

“ok,” cheol nods. he starts playing on his phone, not noticing you walking into the kitchen until joshua starts complaining about something.

“what, i can’t drink your water?” you whine back, frustrated that your brother won’t let you have one of the bottles in the fridge.

“because those aren’t mine!” joshua informs you. “they’re cheol’s, so at least as him before you take one.”

“seungcheol, can i please have one of your waters? i can get the next case if you want,” you say as you turn around, and it takes cheol a second to focus. you’re wearing an old concert t shirt (cheol is pretty sure he has that same one) and shorts that are barely there. cheol is distracted by the sight of your thighs on display and it takes his brain a second to catch up, so he nods before he really knows what he’s agreeing to.

“wait, what? you don’t have to buy more water,” he says, finally there. “have as much as you want. joshua’s just weird.”

“you’re telling me,” you say as you hop up onto the counter.

“i hate when you do that,” josh says, turning to you with his hand on his hip.

“you know when you do that you look just like mom?”

“shut up.”

“you!”

“oh my god!” cheol interjects with a laugh. “are you two going to bicker all the time?”

“no,” you say in unison.

“most of the time though,” you add, and joshua scoffs.

“only when y/n annoys me.”

“am i gonna have to play referee for you two?” cheol asks. “my god.”

“sorry,” you apologize. “we’ll cut it out. right josh?”

“whatever,” he mumbles, pulling the pot from the stove. “y/n can you get a pot holder from that drawer under you and put it on the table for me?”

“yeah, hold on,” you say, moving with a quickness. “don’t burn yourself.”

“i’m being careful,” josh says softly, and cheol laughs to himself at how quickly you can go from bickering to caring for each other. you both join him at the counter, you struggling to get into the tall chair.

“watch it shorty,” he teases, making you blush.

“oh no, i can’t deal with both of you teasing me,” you scold. “so zip it. i’ve got little legs.”

“hm, it’s cute,” cheol says loud enough for you to hear but quiet enough that josh doesn’t catch it over the sound of shuffling bowls. he passes them out and starts serving you and cheol. “thanks man.”

“yeah thanks mom,” you joke, and josh mumbles an expletive before eating his food.

after eating, you and joshua were both so tired you just went to your rooms. cheol however stayed out in the kitchen, promising he would clean up. instead, he politely snoops through your things, trying to learn more about you through your boxes of junk. he doesn’t touch anything, just looks, so he doesn’t feel that bad about it. he takes note of the books laying on top of one box, jotting down the titles so he can try to find some of them later. he smiles when he sees a soccer jersey falling out of a duffel bag, and he’s about to break his no touching rule when he hears a loud, “HEY!” from the hallway. he jumps at the sound, bumping his elbow on one of the boxes and toppling books over. he whirls around to find you, clad in a baggy sleep shirt with tired eyes watching on in amusement.

“what the hell are you doing?” you question, and cheol tries to stammer out a response.

“i uh, i saw a bug,” he lies, and you nod.

“hm, i thought josh would keep his house cleaner than that,” you judge.

“i’m the pig in this relationship, it’s probably my fault,” cheol says as he follows you back into the kitchen. “couldn’t sleep?”

“no, i’m still hungry,” you grumble. “the noodles were my only meal today.”

“you need to eat more,” cheol scolds and you wave him off as you open the fridge.

“whose lunchable is this?” you ask over your shoulder.

“look at me,” cheol gestures. “do i look like i eat those?” you stare maybe a little longer and harder than you should, prompting cheol to ask, “find something else you like?”

“what? no,” you shake your head. “i should’ve known it was my brother’s. he lived off of these for a month when he was younger.”

“really?” cheol chuckles. “what was joshua like as a kid?”

“hm, angelic?” you say sarcastically, hopping back up on the counter like you were earlier. you start eating your lunchable as you keep talking. “he was the perfect one and i was the biter.”

“the biter?”

“i bit so many kids i almost got kicked out of school,” you confirm. “sorry. don’t know why i just told you that. it’s embarrassing.”

“it’s okay,” cheol smiles. “you still like to bite people now?”

“only when provoked,” you say suspiciously.

“i’ll remember that.”

“so you really don’t mind me staying here?” you ask with cracker crumbs on your lips. cheol finds that captivating, so he keeps his eyes on your lips as he responds.

“i really don’t mind,” he nods. “i’m just happy we could help. josh was worried about you for a while.”

“yeah, well, he never liked my roommates-”

“or the area you were in,” cheol says sternly. “he said it wasn’t safe.”

“oh it wasn’t,” you nod. “but it was cheap.”

“still, you need to be careful,” cheol tells you.

“didn’t know i was signing up for a bonus brother by staying here,” you tease.

“i’m not being a bonus brother, i’m simply a concerned citizen,” he says, hand over his heart. you fall silent while you finish eating, and cheol does his best to commit your form to memory. he wants you to be embedded in his eyelids when he lays down and closes his eyes tonight, and he only feels bad for a nanosecond that he feels this way about his friend’s baby sister.

“ok, well, thank you for the company,” you say as you look for the trashcan.

“under the sink,” cheol says, anticipating what you were looking for and keeping his eyes on you still. “all good?” he asks when you’ve thrown everything away, and you nod. “alright, well, good night.”

“night seungcheol,” you say with an awkward wave as you go back to your room. when you’re halfway down the hall you hear cheol call your name, so you turn to find his eyes smiling at you.

“call me cheol, i like that better.”

“oh, ok. night cheol,” you try again, and he happily nods.

when you wake up the next morning, you hear someone in the kitchen and assume joshua must be up and about. you wrap a blanket around yourself, laughing at the fact that mingyu has a pink fuzzy blanket in his room. you make your way into the kitchen, ready to complain about how cold you were last night.

“dude, are you rich or something? why’d you run the ac all-” you stop short, staring at cheol’s bare back. he looks back at you, hair ruffled, and has the audacity to smirk. “sorry. thought you were josh.”

“he’s still asleep,” cheol replies, and you consider just going back to your room to hide until you’re sure your brother is out here as a buffer. with his back to you still, he asks, “do you want eggs?”

“uh, sure?”

“are you?” cheol laughs, turning around to face you fully. you’re doing your best to keep your eyes on his face, but when he crosses his arms over that broad chest of his you falter. “i promise i won’t put anything weird in em.”

“that’s reassuring,” you say with a yawn, letting the blanket fall slightly as you cover your mouth. cheol sees your sleep shirt again, this time stretched out from your movements as you slept, and he wonders for a moment if it would look like that after he uses it to pull you closer and- “do you mind if i make coffee?”

“go for it,” cheol says, grateful for the distraction from where his mind was going. “machine’s over there.”

“thanks,” you mumble, half asleep still. you stand in front of the coffee maker for a moment, brain processing what you need to get first.

“you need me to find the instruction manual?” cheol asks, watching you the whole time you were standing there.

“make your eggs cheol.”

you empty the coffee grounds that were still in the bucket, then take a fresh filter from the stack on the counter. you move around cheol to fill the pot with water, making sure there’s enough for you all to have a cup if you want. after pouring the water in, you notice you’re missing one crucial thing. you check the counter, nothing. you try the drawers below you, then the cabinets below those. still nothing. you move to the pantry and spend a moment frustratedly moving things around in search of coffee and you come up empty once again. as you turn around to look everywhere once again, you almost jump out of your skin seeing cheol so close, watching you with an amused look in his eyes.

“jesus, you scared me,” you gasp.

“i’ll wear a bell next time,” he jokes. “looking for something?”

“the coffee, where do you keep it? please don’t tell me you’re out,” you whine, and cheol just smiles.

“you can find it on your own, i believe in you.”

“what? no, tell me.”

“and why should i do that?” cheol asks seriously.

“i don’t know, because i’m cute?” you joke.

“yeah, you are,” cheol says, holding your gaze, quirking an eyebrow to challenge you. you swear you would deck him if he wasn’t so handsome. you whirl around to look in the pantry again before you hear cheol’s deep voice just barely say “colder.”

you look at him suspiciously, and he’s back to cooking the eggs. he’s keeping one eye on you though, sneaking looks at you and trying not to smile at how ridiculously cute you are being so frustrated over this. he prompts you with a few more “cold”/”colder” clues before you whine in exasperation.

“but i already checked over here,” you complain, back in front of the machine. “i’ll just go get coffee, forget this-”

you reach out to turn the coffee maker off, and cheol mumbles “warmer.” your ears perk up, so you move your hand around the counter to get a clue. finally you lift your hand toward the cabinet above the coffee maker, and cheol says you’re getting warmer.

“hot,” he says as you finally open the cabinet, “hotter, hotter than you are, hottest, you’re on fire! be careful!” he continues, even though you’ve found the coffee and you can now finish the pot you were making. “well that took a while.”

“because someone was being childish,” you chastise him, and cheol smiles like he just won the lottery.

“but it was fun!”

“why didn’t you like that place?” joshua asks as you leave another perfectly fine apartment.

“there’s no dog park,” you reply, and your brother groans. loudly.

“you don’t even HAVE a dog,” he complains.

“but i want one! i can’t have a dog if there’s no where for it to go!”

“come on y/n, that place was nice!” joshua tries hyping it up for you. “there was so much space, way too many closets which is good for you and all your junk, and that view was amazing.”

“the view was really nice,” you concede, and josh bumps shoulders with you as you keep walking toward his apartment.

“plus it’s walking distance from me,” he smiles. “so you can bother me whenever you want.”

“that is a plus.”

“and it means you’re close to cheol too...”

“what?” you stop and look at him, and he laughs.

“i’m just saying. it’d be easy for you to visit. doesn’t matter who you’re visiting.”

ignoring joshua’s insinuations, you go back to discussing the apartment you just saw. if you wanted to apply you needed to move fast, but you were nervous. joshua listened intently as you aired all your worries, and like the good big brother he is he calmly countered each ridiculous thought with logic and only a few jokes. by the time you were walking down his hallway, you were convinced that you’d found your apartment. you grab your laptop from mingyu’s room and start working on the application, joshua peering over your shoulder every once in a while to help you decipher what it’s asking for. you’re thankful for the help, and you turn to ask him another question and almost jump out of your skin.

“jesus, make some noise next time,” you gasp, seeing shirtless cheol behind you again. he was leaning over the couch, close enough that his chin could almost lean on your shoulder.

“whatcha doin?” he asks with a cheshire cat-like grin.

“applying for an apartment,” you inform him, and you’re not sure but you think his face falls just slightly. “do you ever wear shirts at home?”

“why, is that a problem for you?” he asks. you feel like a goldfish, closing and opening your mouth like an idiot trying to decide how to respond.

“y/n?” joshua laughs as he comes back from the bathroom to see you mooning over his roommate. “you good?”

“i’m being heckled,” you finally reply, and cheol laughs.

“i asked if she needed help, sorry if that’s heckling now,” he says as he moves away from the couch.

“it is when your tits are out,” you grumble, scrolling back to the page you were working on. cheol made you mess up, but don’t tell him that.

“not like you haven’t seen them before, sweets!” cheol teases, and joshua looks between you both in amusement.

“you’ve been staring at his tits, y/n?”

“no, he just never has clothes on apparently,” you defend yourself. “he was shirtless this morning when we had breakfast too.”

“you had breakfast together?” joshua asks, looking to just cheol now. he had told josh he slept in today and that you must have made the mess in the kitchen. why didn’t he say he ate with you?

“we were in the same room when we ate, yeah,” cheol nods. joshua leaves it at that, mostly because you start whining about something you don’t understand on your application. he rejoins you at the couch and cheol goes to his room, silently cursing himself for letting josh catch him so easily. he didn’t want your brother knowing he was catching feelings, so he’ll have to play it cool from now on.

speaking of being cool, the boys keep this apartment too cold. after your first freezing night, you wore more clothes to bed thinking that would keep you warm. unfortunately, you don’t know where your hoodies are, so you had to make do. so when you wake up in the middle of the night shivering, you stomp out of your room to go bang on your brother’s door. just as you’re raising your fist to bang on his door, you hear cheol’s open down the hallway.

“you again?” you groan, not missing the fact that cheol still isn’t wearing a shirt. “how are you not freezing?”

“i am,” he replies, and you fall silent. “i was getting up to change the thermostat.”

“oh.”

“and you were..?”

“gonna complain about it to my brother?” you say sheepishly, making cheol laugh.

“joshua is the one that keeps it so cold, he would just tell you to go back to bed,” he tells you as he walks toward the thermostat. “you know you technically live here. you can adjust this if you want.”

“i know,” you nod, watching cheol move it to an acceptable temperature.

“so why didn’t you?” he asks.

“i uh, didn’t think about it.”

“no?”

“that, and i don’t...know..how to use it...” you mumble, hoping cheol drops it.

“you don’t know how to use a thermostat?” he teases with that perpetual smirk he seems to always wear around you.

“no, and at this point in my life i think it’s too late to learn,” you say. “thank you for fixing it tonight, hopefully i won’t wake up frozen in the morning.”

you try to turn and head back to bed, but cheol grabs you by the back of your shirt and pulls you toward his warm chest. he places an arm around you lightly, turning you so you’re staring at the thermostat, trying very hard to ignore cheol’s direct stare as he speaks again.

“it’s easy sweets, just push this notch,” he demonstrates, “then push the up and down buttons to change the temperature. this is good for when you want it to be cool, but if you want to clean out my wallet you can keep it a couple degrees cooler.” he finishes and turns his head back toward you again, and you notice just how close he is. you’re afraid of moving, of speaking, but cheol takes care of that for you. “any questions?”

“yeah, can you move your arm?” you whisper.

“no,” he whispers back. “why are you whispering?”

“because i’m scared?” cheol looks at you confused. “i’m afraid you’re gonna put me in a headlock.”

“you want me to?” he laughs, finally stepping back to give you some space. “do you need extra blankets or anything?”

“ah, no,” you reply. “i wanted to find my box of hoodies but i have no idea where it is, so the blankets in mingyu’s room will be fine.”

“you need a hoodie?” cheol asks, and without giving you a chance to respond he disappears into his room. he comes out with a mound of blue fabric in his hands before pushing it into your arms. “use this.”

“no, i can’t-”

“take it,” he says firmly. “or i’ll be forced to keep you warm myself.” at the sound of that threat, you hastily pull the hoodie on before thanking cheol and ducking back into your room for the night. he stands out in the hallway, smiling to himself.

you’re busy for a few days after that, finally settled at your brother’s place and able to focus back on work and finding back up apartments if the other place falls through. you’re not home much, and by the end of the week joshua sits you down to convince you that you need to go out.

“josh, i’ve had such a long week,” you start to justify. “i don’t wanna go out this weekend. i’m afraid i’d fall asleep at the club.”

“no, no, i didn’t mean anything like that,” he clarifies. “i think you need to go on a date.”

“why?” you ask, a little shocked. joshua never cared about your love life, mostly just judging from afar (and sometimes not so afar). you tend to keep that part of your life private anyway, so it’s not like you let joshua be a part of it outside of obligatory meet the partner nights with your family.

“i don’t know,” he shrugs, “i just think you’d enjoy it. i actually have this friend-”

“oh god, please don’t do this-” you start to complain, afraid josh is about to set you up with cheol.

“no, no, hear me out,” josh continues. “he’s your age, he’s sweet, he’s cute i guess, and i think you’d really like him.”

“so i’m guessing you have all of this planned?” you ask, and joshua smiles.

“be ready tomorrow at 8. he’s picking you up, and i’ll be at jeonghan’s if you want to bring him back-”

“don’t say that please,” you request, holding your hand up. “i’ll go on the date but i don’t wanna hear my brother insinuate i’m gonna have sex at his apartment.”

“i didn’t say anything, you’re the one that insinuated,” joshua laughs as he gets up, passing behind you and kissing the top of your head as he goes to his room. “you’re gonna have a great time, sis.”

despite not wanting to go on this date, you were nervous. you don’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of this guy, because he’s friends with your brother and anything embarrassing will be brought to joshua and used to ridicule you for the rest of your life. you also don’t wanna write this guy off before you meet him, because he could be nice. maybe.

that fire is quickly put out when you actually meet the guy. his name is chan, but he claims josh and all their friends call him dino. you wanted to ask why, but you were afraid of the answer. you just smiled politely and tried to lock up quickly, hoping that the faster you move the quicker this date will be over.

at the sound of the front door closing, cheol is stirred from his nap. he didn’t have any big plans, but he had gone to the gym earlier and exhausted himself so he thought he deserved some rest. he assumed the door sound meant you or joshua was home, but after checking he realized it was just him. he wonders for a moment if he should check on you, but he decides against it. instead he takes a shower and starts working on dinner, choosing a chill night to rest since he has the place to himself.

meanwhile, your date is going horribly. first of all, chan was super awkward walking with you to his car, and then he didn’t speak much on the ride to dinner. oh, well, he did, except that was only his road rage coming out. you heard this man say more cuss words in a fifteen minute car ride than you’ve heard from anyone else all year. he’s said fuck more times than he’s said your name, and quite frankly you’re not confident he knows what it is.

once you get to the restaurant, chan basically leaves you in the car. you’re not a damsel in distress, you don’t need a man to open your door for you, but it would be nice if the man you’re on a date with would at least wait until you’re out of the car to head toward the restaurant. you make it to the curb and don’t know where chan has gone until he pops out of the restaurant asking an annoyed, “you coming?”

once you’re seated, things don’t get much better. the waitress is pretty, and she’s obviously more interested in chan than you are. you’ve given up on the date by this point, but you think you can get a free meal out of it, so you keep suffering. when he’s not flirting with the waitress, chan is mansplaining to you and gesturing so wildly you’re afraid he’s going to knock everything off the table. he tries asking you questions but keeps talking over you, and when he does let you speak he either looks offended or checks his phone. before your appetizers come, you’re ready to leave.

“what did i do to deserve this?” you text joshua as you half listen to chan describe the most boring thing in the most cocky way possible. you hope joshua will respond, but there’s nothing.

“are you mad at me? is that why you tricked me into going on the worst date of my life?” you text again, and still no response.

“hey, that’s kind of rude,” chan says, and you can feel your blood start to boil.

“weren’t you on your phone when i was talking earlier?” you ask in disbelief, and he shakes his head.

“no, i wasn’t. because that’s rude,” he repeats. you want to groan and slam your head on the table, but you refrain. “whatever. i’m going to the restroom, text away.”

that you do. you keep texting joshua, trying to annoy him into responding, but he stands tall. whatever he’s doing is more important that your horrible night. you have an infinite list in your mind of things that you would rather be doing right now, so you understand josh’s disinterest.

speaking of disinterest, you look up to find chan and see him leaned over the bar talking to another waitress. this time she’s way into it, hand on his arm and phone out to take down his number. you watch as he types it in, then pull out a barstool and take a seat. now you do groan, and without leaving the table you call your brother, ready to beg for a ride back home.

“come on, pick up, pick up please,” you mumble, hoping beyond hope that joshua will be your knight in shining armor. you get his voicemail and leave behind some choice words before slamming your phone down on the table, frustrated tears threatening to fall. you’re still new to this part of town, so your brother is your only lifeline right now. you don’t trust your ability to walk home without getting snatched, and you know that calling any of your friends would mean sitting here for at least an hour while they come get you. you’re about to go hide in the bathroom when you think of one other option.

seungcheol.

you don’t know where he is or what he’s doing tonight, but you find the “temporary roomies” chat that josh put you into and call cheol from there. you start the same plea, whispering pick up over and over, but cheol answers on the second ring.

“hey sweets,” you can tell he’s smiling. “what’s going on, you and josh having fun without me?”

“cheol, hi, listen,” you start, “josh set me up on a blind date and the guy is a dick and-”

“what did he do?” cheol cuts you off, and you tell him about the car ride, the attitude, and now his interest in any woman that’s not you. “fuck him. fuck your brother too. where are you? i’m on my way.”

“cheol, no, i was mostly calling to see if josh was home-”

“send me the address, y/n,” he says firmly. “i’ll be there soon.”

he wasn’t lying. it feels like only a few minutes have passed when there’s a commotion at the door and you see cheol stalking through the restaurant looking for you. you gather your things and stand, and chan sees you out of the corner of his eye. he comes rushing over just as cheol reaches you, and it’s almost comical watching this stare down as chan gets closer.

“come on, we’re leaving,” cheol tells you, pushing a helmet into your hands.

“what is this?” you ask, eyeing chan awkwardly.

“hey, pal, we’re on a date, so she’s not going anywhere,” chan tells cheol, and he laughs in his face.

“sorry, pal, date’s over,” he says, pushing chan back lightly. “go back to the waitress. we’re done here.” cheol doesn’t wait to hear what other bullshit chan might try to say. instead he grabs you by the wrist and guides you out of the restaurant to a motorcycle propped up outside. he looks at you smoothly and motions to the helmet. “i said put that on, doll. can’t ride without protection.”

“o-ok,” you stutter, placing the helmet over your head delicately. cheol stops you and turns you toward him, clicking the helmet into place under your chin, feeling his fingers on your neck sends a tingle down your spine, and you do your best to ignore it.

“there you go,” he whispers, satisfied with his work. he grabs your head in both hands and playfully shakes you from side to side, smirking as he says, “quick road test, sorry.”

“cheol, you’re crazy,” you laugh, thankful for the distraction. “i didn’t know you drove a bike. this is cool.”

“glad you like it,” he says as he hops on. “now come on, let’s go home before i go beat that loser up.”

you carefully and tentatively hold onto cheol’s shoulder as you sling your leg over the seat, sliding down accidentally so your chest is pressed firmly to his back. you grab onto his other shoulder and wait, thinking cheol will leave any second.

“can’t hold on like that,” he seems to whisper, looking at you over his shoulder. “you’ll fall off.”

“well i don’t wanna bother you-”

“please,” you hear him scoff, and then he’s pulling your arms down to his waist. he even takes the liberty of lacing your hands together over his stomach so it’s easier for you to hold on. and suddenly you feel very warm. you can feel the outline of his muscles through his shirt, and being so close to him is getting you drunk off of whatever shampoo or cologne he’s wearing.

“cheol,” you say before he kicks off, and he’s looking back at you again. “i’m sorry about this. thank you for coming to get me.”

“anytime,” he says sweetly, his eyes flicking to your lips briefly. “now hold on tight.”

before you know it, cheol is kicking off and zooming down the near empty street, ripping a scream of surprise and joy out of you. you thought you’d be petrified right now, but this is actually exhilarating. you’re not sure if it’s the adrenaline of the motorcycle ride or the proximity to cheol, but you almost feel lightheaded. you’re shrieking and laughing like this is a rollercoaster, and there’s a smile plastered on cheol’s face as he listens.

when you get to a red light, cheol slows down and instructs you to keep your feet up as he places his firmly on the ground. he looks back at you as best he can and asks, “having fun?”

“this is incredible,” you smile. “do an extra lap. i don’t wanna go home yet.”

“yeah?” cheol asks happily, and you nod.

“wait, unless you had plans!” you say. “oh my god, cheol, i’m so sorry, i didn’t even consider that you might have been busy, oh god. i should’ve asked, i should’ve-”

“stop talking,” he tells you. “i’m glad you called. i’d do this for you every day of the week if you needed it.”

“thank you,” you say meekly as cheol revs the bike before carefully driving again. you ride and listen to the sound of the city get whipped by around you, watching the lights and realizing how much you’re enjoying yourself. you lay your chin on cheol’s shoulder and think about the butterflies in your stomach, noticing that they’re going more wild now than they ever have before.

when you get back to the apartment, you’re immediately met with the smell of food. you’re about to cuss joshua out, assuming he had been home this whole time, until cheol walks ahead of you into the kitchen and asks, “did you get to eat on this horrible mistake i just saved you from?”

“hey, whoa, i was doing this because of my brother,” you say defensively. “it wasn’t my mistake, i was bamboozled.”

“you could’ve said no,” cheol shrugs as he leans against the doorway. then he holds your gaze and asks, “why didn’t you say no?”

“i-i don’t know,” you reply, turning away because cheol’s stare is too heavy for your right now. “i guess, yeah, i did it because i thought it would make josh happy since he set it up, but...i don’t know. it would be nice to have someone, i guess.”

“to have someone?” cheol smirks, taking a step or two closer to you.

“yeah, like have someone be mine,” you say shyly, looking up to find cheol closer than you expected. he stands in front of you, smirk hanging off his lips, arms loosely crossed over his broad chest.

“you have me,” he says, moving so close to you that you can feel his breath on your lips. he holds your gaze, waiting for you to make a move. awkwardly, you lean in, lips almost brushing. you get nervous and try to back away but cheol quickly grabs you by the chin and whispers, “and i’ve got you” before connecting your lips. your hands fall to his chest, obliviously rubbing your hands over his muscles. his touch to your chin stays gentle but firm, holding you in place so he can devour your lips. you’re breathless quick, but you don’t want to pull away. the sound of keys in the front door scare you out of your daze, and you separate from cheol like you’ve been shocked. joshua walks in, unaware (or is he?) of what he just interrupted. pleased with himself, he looks from you to cheol and back to you before asking, “so...how was your night?”

you’ve been avoiding cheol. you can’t believe you kissed him, and you can’t believe you liked it. you liked it so much that you’re afraid of what might happen if you’re around him again, because nothing can happen. he’s your brother’s best friend! it’s like reverse bro code to date your brother’s friend. that would be...weird? and yet here you are, daydreaming about it.

cheol knows what you’re doing. he knows you’ve been spooked, and he’s annoyed. now that he’s had a taste of you he only wants more, so you hiding from him when he’s out of his room or only leaving yours when he’s in the shower or asleep is really getting on his nerves. you can’t avoid him forever, but damn it if you’re not gonna try.

you’re currently speedrunning all of your chores, trying to clean the bathroom while your laundry is on and in between you’re washing all of your dirty dishes. you’re doing this because you know cheol will come out of his room soon to go to the gym, so you’re hoping to be tucked away safely in your room before that happens. however, the biggest man in the apartment still manages to move like a mouse, so you turn around to put some plates away and find cheol leaning against the kitchen counter, watching you intently.

“fuck you, stop sneaking up on me!” you shriek. “i’m serious about that bell now. wear loud shoes or something, god.”

“why, so you can hear me coming and hide?” he asks seriously, and you fall silent. you join him on the other side of the room, stretching to put the plates in the cabinet. cheol keeps watching, realizing this is the first time he’s seen you show so much skin. shorts pulled up just barely over your ass, like usual, driving him insane, like usual. but now you’re just wearing a sports bra on top, and cheol doesn’t miss the way you’re giving him the perfect view of your chest. he’s unapologetically staring, and without facing him you mumble telling him to stop. “i can stare if i want.”

“well can you stop, please?” you beg, turning and crossing your arms over your chest, just pressing your cleavage up more.

“baby, work with me here,” he groans. “you can’t kiss me like that the other night and then hide from me. and you can’t look like that and not expect me to stare.”

“stop telling me what i can and can’t do,” you grumble, trying to remember what you were about to do. you start to walk away but cheol grabs you lightly by the wrist, and you ask nicely, “let me go.”

“you can leave,” cheol encourages. “i’m not holding on tight.”

but you stay right where you are, a few steps away from cheol. his hand slides down from your wrist to lace his fingers with yours. he squeezes your hand sweetly before tugging you back in front of him, a stupid smirk gracing his handsome face.

“hi beautiful,” he smiles, making you blush. “so tell me. am i a bad kisser or something?”

“what?” you ask, shocked he would even think that. “n-no, why?”

“well,” he sighs, hands sliding around your waist too quick for you to object, “it’s just that we kissed, and i thought it was pretty sexy, and then you just disappeared on me. which is amazing considering we live together right now.”

“i’m good at teleporting,” you joke, and cheol pinches your hip.

“answer me, y/n,” he tries again. “why are you hiding?”

“because you’re joshua’s friend,” you say with a face. “i can’t date you.”

“who said anything about dating?” cheol smiles. “we’ve got two beds, sweets. take your pick.”

“you can’t be serious.”

“you don’t want to?” cheol asks, seemingly dragging you closer to himself. he slots his leg between yours, leans in close and asks, “so if i check your panties right now, they wouldn’t be wet?”

“cheol, i-”

“hm?” he asks, pulling back enough to look right in your eyes. “you don’t want this, just say the word and i’m gone. but if you do, baby, please let me do this.”

“joshua can’t know,” you whisper fast before you’re grabbing cheol and kissing him again. his hands slide from their spot on your waist to cup your ass, nudging your core over his thigh. you whimper at the slight drag, and cheol tenses his thigh as he brings your hips forward again.

“i don’t even need to put my hand down your pants to know you’re wet,” he says proudly. “you ok with soaking my thigh a little bit first, baby?” you nod, and he tsks. “you need to use your words. not gonna do anything unless i know you want it.”

“let me keep going,” you say breathlessly, and cheol easily obliges. he dives back into your lips, hands gripping your ass to keep you grinding over his thigh. you get lost in the pressure between your legs, but you don’t want to be interrupted like you were last time. you try to break from cheol’s lips but he brings a hand up to keep you in place, doing his best to memorize the shape of your lips with his. you realize you need to get his attention a different way, so you reach down to cup his cock through his shorts. he hisses at the contact, lips pulled from yours. “cheol, stop.”

“what, what’s wrong?” he asks, worried.

“let’s go to my room,” you say with a nod, and his eyes shimmer with lust and a bit of glee. he’s dragging you down the hallway with him, doing his best not to tear your clothes off and leave a trail. once he’s in your room, you push him back lightly so you can be sure to shut the door. cheol takes this time to lay back on your pillows, patting his thigh to invite you back. you join him on the bed, ready to straddle him and go back to grinding down on his stupidly thick thigh, but he stops you.

“shorts off,” he instructs, and you pull them off eagerly. “let me see your panties.” your legs on either side of his, you sit up and lean back, hoping cheol gets what he wants. he hums and nods when he sees the wet patch, grabbing for your waist to pull you back over his leg. “let’s get you warmed up a little more, need you ready to ride me soon.”

cheol brings your core back down to his thigh, guiding your movements as you whine on top of him. you’re not sure what to do with your hands, so you let one of them wander up to push your bra over your chest, playing with your nipple as cheol guides you agonizingly slow. you try to bounce and get more friction but that makes him hold you down tighter and your whines get louder.

“that’s it baby, show me how pretty you are when you come and then i’ll give you my cock,” he growls out, a hand slipping down to push past the waistband of your panties. he swipes a finger down to play with your clit and he moans when he feels how wet you are. “all this for me, pretty girl?”

“yes, for you, just like that,” you moan, “make me come please, need to come.”

“you can come,” cheol coaxes. “just waiting on you.” he applies a little more pressure over your clit, and then you’re shaking above him, a soundless gasp left on your lips. as you try to blink away the spots in your eyes, you hurriedly help cheol get undressed, crawling down to his cock before he can stop you. you pull his boxers down as he takes his shirt off, and you gasp when you see his size. you grab him by the base and take a taste, kitten licking his tip and driving him crazy. he wants to wrap his hands in your hair and guide you over his cock, but an equal part wants to pull you up just so he can feel your pussy clenching around him. he lets you decide the pace though, hissing through his teeth as you keep licking him, until you’re ready to swallow his cock little by little. you get halfway down before you need to pull back, and you’re worried he won’t fit.

“not to feed your ego or anything,” you say after popping off of his cock, “but you’re really big.”

“no that definitely feeds my ego.”

“i don’t think you’re gonna fit,” you say, worried.

“well get in my lap and we’ll find out, sweets,” he says, reaching for you to help you up and over his legs again. he holds his cock still for you as you line him up with your entrance, and you glance at him one last time, still concerned. “take it slow. i know you can do it.”

“but-”

“baby, i’m letting you pick the pace,” he laughs. “if it were up to me i would’ve slammed you down on my cock already.”

“hmm someone’s horny,” you joke, and cheol thrusts up in retaliation. you gasp at the feeling of his tip at your entrance, and you do what he says. you take it slow, holding your breath as you feel him stretch you out with every inch.

“how you feeling baby?”

“good,” you gasp out.

“make sure you breathe,” cheol reminds you, and you nod as you take a few deep breaths. he can feel every movement on his cock, and it’s driving him insane to not be fully inside you right now. he tries to push you down a little further, but you cry out and he stops. he gives you a moment to adjust, and you move on your own when you’re ready. you keep pushing down, taking more and more. “you’re doing so good baby.”

“it’s too big,” you gasp out, looking down to see how much you have left to go.

“no it’s not.”

“but it is,” you whine, trying to pull up completely. that’s the last straw for cheol though, because he grips your hips and slams you down over his cock, your clit even grinding over his pubic bone slightly. you shudder at the feeling, shocked speechless at the feeling of cheol’s cock so deep inside you. he helps you ride him at first, but you take over and start a steady pace. you don’t think you’ve ever felt someone this deep before, and your body feels like it’s on fire.

“you can take it, that’s it,” he encourages, and you pick up the pace. cheol starts meeting you halfway, adjusting so he can hit your core just right. when he thrusts up and you almost fall over on top of him he knows he’s found the right spot, doing his best to keep his pace steady. he pulls you down so you’re caging him in, and he lays your head on his chest as he takes over, thrusting into you so fast you start seeing stars. you’re moaning into his chest, maybe drooling a little too, and it’s driving him insane. you feel so good around him, so warm, so tight, so wet. the sounds of your pussy are embarrassing to you and intoxicating to him, he wishes he had the patience to lay between your legs and lick you clean before fucking you again. but he’ll save that for later. for now, he needs to find a place to come. “where do you want me?”

“stomach,” you mumble into his chest, sitting back up with your hands on his pecs. “gonna come?”

“if you come first, yeah,” cheol nods. he focuses on bringing you closer, grabbing one of your hands off his chest and guiding it to your lips. you open, and he tells you to suck. after you’ve wet your middle and ring finger, cheol brings them down to your clit, leading your movements and applying pressure as he wants. it’s so sexy, letting him lead you like this, and the way he’s staring at you is making your chest tingle, and his cock is still buried deep inside you as you start getting closer. when cheol pulls you down with his free hand, connecting your lips again, you start to come, whimpering into his mouth as the waves crash over you. he works you through it, giving you only a second or two to rest before he’s pumping you again, chasing his own release. he pulls out and immediately starts stroking his cock, coming with a quiet gasp. you shudder as you feel his come land across your stomach, some even hitting your pussy lips. you lean back to let him see his masterpiece, and cheol looks pleased.

“let me get a washcloth,” you mumble, moving to get up. once you’re off of him, cheol springs into action, guiding you to lay back down.

“no, you’ll be sore soon, let me do it,” he says before ducking out of your room. he comes back with a wet washcloth and waters for you both, which you take graciously. he cleans you up carefully, and then he joins you back on the bed. the last thing you remember before falling asleep is cheol pushing your hair back, smiling at you softly.

you wake up the next morning to a knock at your door, followed by another louder knock.

“what?” you groan, rolling over to face the door just as joshua pops in.

“morning to you too,” he yawns. “i’m getting breakfast. text me what you want.”

“mhm,” you yawn in reply. “close my door.”

josh leaves without doing what you asked, and there’s a beat of silence before you hear the front door close. you feel hands wrap around your waist, pulling you into a strong, warm, bare chest. cheol pops his chin onto your shoulder, cheesing as he asks, “you think he knew i was here?”

4K notes · View notes

nomercyanywhere · 5 months

Text

older stepbro sukuna and little bro you

ーーーーー

knowing him for years now you shouldn't be surprised by the amount of times he's left his used underwear in your room, but for the love of you god, you just cannot

"oh for fuck sake!" you yelled, stormed out of your room and into his. your greeted by him having no shirt on and wearing only grey sweatpants that hugged loosely around his waist. sat on his beanbag playing video games while munching on chips. "how many goddamn times do i have to tell you to quit leaving your nasty boxers in my room?!" you scold him again and again but he just yawns then looks at you with an annoyed expression. he got up, then walked towards you, he leaned against the door frame and grabs his undies from your hand. "wanna tell me why you have this? hm?" no. he was just teasing you at this point. "me?! you're the one who-! " you get cut off by him "no fuckin way, it's wet, were you touching yourself? on MY boxers? your brothers? pfft- you fucking pervert~!" he laughed at your face, all confused and irritated. "hah?! i did NOT!-" despite your yells, he continues laughing. you grit your teeth and slammed the door shut.

now, you're sure you don't steal them away from it, you've even seen him throw it in your room on purpose. but, you did secretly fuck yourself to the scent of it..

ugh, you plop onto the bed and thick blankets. trying your best to calm down, looking back at what happened, you noticed that he wasn't wearing any underwearbunder those pants. the outline of his cock was way too distinct. you could even see a vein. you wanted to touch it, rub it, shove your own face into his crotch and you hate yourself for thinking about scenarios like those. the anger you once had turned into you getting pent up, squeezing your legs together, and a visible wet patch on your cute undies. "i fucking hate this.." you whispered to yourself and started to pull your undies down.

kuna always barges in your room, locked or unlocked, he did it once and your lock broke. speaking of, it hasn't been fixed yet, leaving you vulnerable to his unwanted inviting himself in.

he was feeling a bit playful. so who to play with other than his cute brother? he smirked at the thought of it, then walked to your room.. your fingers play with your clit, pressing on it gently, flicking etc. as soft as your fingers were, you wanted to feel his calloused, thicker and longer one on your cunt. you bit your lip to suppress any sounds, and tried real hard to get off, the familiar sensation on your tummy when your about to cum keeps dissappearing when your near orgasming, causing you to start over again. you were so lost in it that "you're so bad this." you didn't notice him entering your room. you jolt at the sudden sound of his voice and immediatelym closed your legs. "what the fuck?! get out!" you threw your blanket over yourself and threw a pillow him, which he dodges easily. "why? you looked so cute trying so hard to cum" he scoffs at your laughable attempt at masturbating. he crawled on your bed "c'mon, i just wanna help my~" pulling the duvet away and slid his hand up your smooth thig "poor, desperate, adorable little brother~". he grabs both your legs, "spread em" you clicked your tongue and looked away, slowly spreading your legs open.

after that, you'd always come to him whenever you feel horny and needy.

"heh, who knew, i'd ever see you bouncing on my cock." up and down you went, dirtying his lap with pre. your hands on his abs for stability. but something else felt missing, like, you wouldn't be able to focus with out it. you look up at him, then tugged on the controller. "mn.. pay attention to me.." you whined. it was attention, you wanted him to look at you and you only. "hm? acting a little slutty bro~" he puts down the controller and turns the tv off. "and here i thought you hated me" he places both hands on your hips, they traveled to your ass, he groped and squeezed.

ーーーーー

a/n: tumblr, if u allow pseudocest with f reader. u should allow it with m reader too. also, a bit lots of typos i think? i wrote this while sleepy lmfao

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk imagines #jjk smut #ryomen sukuna #sukuna thirst #sukuna smut #ftm reader #m! reader #male reader #nomercyanywhereliterature

1K notes · View notes

babyleostuff · 6 months

Text

COSMOPOLITAN | KIM MINGYU

18+ minors dni

word count | 2k

warnings | not proofread, subby and very needy reader, dom gyu, degradation (whore/slut), slight daddy kink, pet names (baby/princess), minor dacryphilia

“what are you smirking at?” mingyu asked from behind the counter, busy with preparing dinner. he was dressed in a black tank top, grey sweatpants, and an apron you got for him for his birthday - nothing out of the ordinary.

normally you’d drool over how gorgeous he was, how his strong arms flexed under the weight of the pans and pots, how his melanin skin was glowing in the afternoon sun, and how his short hair made him ten times hotter, but the recent pictures from the cosmopolitan photoshoot took all of your attention away from him.

mingyu looked over your phone, and laughed. “you know i’m right here, right?” you nodded your head and bit your lip, not really listening to the man before you, busy scrolling through twitter and saving every picture you came upon.

“how are you even real?” you whispered, staring at the photo where you could see part of his back. "wait, is that why you told me to keep my hands to myself that night? so i wouldn't scratch you?" you looked up at mingyu in confusion, just to find him already staring back at you.

“we both know how my back looks like after i fuck you, baby,” he smiled innocently and leaned over the kitchen counter to press a kiss to your lips.

you shifted in your seat, immediately feeling the wetness between your legs. his nonchalance and confidence, the fact that he knew exactly how he affected you, made you want to throw everything off the counter to show him how much you loved and hated him for how beautiful he was.

scrolling to the next photo where you could see his exposed chest, his skin smooth and silky, you smiled to yourself because you knew it was usually covered in your hickeys. that's right, only you knew what it felt like to run your lips over mingyu’s body, how sensitive his nipples were, and what beautiful sounds he made when you got close to his big cock.

“let me know when you’re done drooling over the pictures so we can have dinner,” your man suddenly pulled you out of your thoughts. you looked at him like he was crazy, your eyes unconsciously landing on his perfect ass.

"i don't know if you've noticed, but dinner is the last thing i want to eat right now."

mingyu turned around and laughed at your pouting face. "baby, they're just photos. i literally look the same right now as i do in them," he walked around the counter and cupped your face in his large and warm hands, tilting your head up so you could look at him. “would you stop sulking and eat dinner with me?” you sighed, taking in his puppy eyes that he knew you couldn’t resist.

you nodded your head and pecked his cheek, as he helped you down from the stool you were sitting on. “go and wash your hands, and i’ll get everything ready,’ you patted his chest.

mingyu disappeared into the bathroom for a moment, leaving you alone in the kitchen with the ramen he made and thoughts swarming your mind.

"what are you thinking about?" you suddenly felt familiar arms tighten around your waist, his hard chest pressed against your back, trapping you between his body and the counter. “what do you think?” you huffed, but it quickly turned into a sigh as mingyu trailed his lips along the sensitive part of your neck.

“did my baby get wet just because of a couple of photos?” he murmured and you nodded, not bothered by the fact that you should feel embarrassed about getting turned on so easily. you knew it was better to be obedient with mingyu.

“and what should i do about it, hm?” he whispered into your ear, as he lazily rubbed his thumb over your lower tummy. “gyu, please,” you sighed and threw your head back, so it rested on his shoulder.

you felt his chest move as he laughed, and you were sure that if you tilted your head just a little you would see that your boyfriend’s puppy eyes were gone, but you were way too focused on his hand to move.

"my little stupid baby wants my cock because I showed a bit of skin in a photoshoot," mingyu cooed, as his other hand slowly lifted your top up, revealing your breasts and nipples, which were already waiting for his warm mouth to wrap around them.

but he didn't do anything further, you could only feel his hot breath on your neck.

"use," kiss. "your," kiss. "words," his lips bruised over the nape of your neck with each word, making your toes curl. "or i'll leave you like this, desperate to be fucked, with wet panties, and empty holes.”

you whined at his words and unconsciously rubbed your butt against his hips and you felt that you weren't the only one who was horny. “you won't get my mouth on your pussy, and you definitely won't get my cock if you act like this," your chest quickly rose and fell with each breath, as you struggled to produce any coherent words.

your mind was mush and you had problems thinking straight, but you knew you wouldn’t survive if mingyu left you like that.

“i want… i n-need your hand," you moaned. "where? show me baby," you grabbed mingyu's free hand and guided him to your breast and squeezed tightly. normally it would hurt you, but now the pain felt like salvation. "your m-mouth," you then grabbed the back of his head and tried to guide him to your nipple that was practically begging for his mouth.

mingyu, as if he knew exactly what you were asking for, squeezed your breast even tighter and began to circle your other nipple with his tongue. "and your o-other hand," you sighed, grabbing his hand that was still resting on your stomach, lowering it to your pussy.

“now fuck me,” you thought.

"you know what, i think i'm bored of this,” he said, as if his hand wasn't just circling your clit in torturously slow circles. “let's eat dinner," the moment mingyu said it all the air left your lungs, and you wanted nothing more but to fall on your knees in front of him and beg him to fuck you, but all you could manage was a begging moan.

you gripped the back of mingyu’s head tighter as he continued to lick your nipple like a lollipop, but you knew that no matter how much force you used, you had no chance against him.

you were like a rag doll to him, like a toy he could push around.

“please m-mingyu,” you pushed your hips harder against his hand for more friction and almost cried out when you felt him pinch your clit. "you're just a slut who just wants to get fucked, right?" he chuckled, going back to rubbing slow circles around your clit. “y-yes g-gyu, i am. i'm your slut,” you moaned as you felt his fingers at your entrance. you grabbed his wrist to hurry him up, but he didn't move even an inch. "great, then you need to be fucked hard, whore."

you let out a tearful moan as you suddenly felt him remove his fingers from your cunt, but not before he collected your wetness. “open your mouth, princess,” you immediately did as mingyu told you and a second later you were politely sucking on his two thick fingers like an obedient girl.

“good girl,” he murmured, looking you straight in the eyes.

he pulled them out after a while with a loud "pop" and your lips continued to follow them for a moment as if you wanted to continue sucking them. "another time, baby. remember, i have to fuck you now,” mingyu caressed your cheek gently, as you pouted at him, and started pulling his black tank top over his head.

“tell me honestly, baby,” he said and you continued undressing him. your fingers quickly found the bow of the apron behind his back and you had no trouble untying it.

"if i wasn't at home, would you touch yourself tonight because of these photos? would you imagine my tongue in your pussy? would you ride your pillow, imagining it was my cock? would you have to bite your lip, imaging it was my shoulder, like you do when you don't want the neighbors to know how well i fuck you?"

a soft sigh left your lips and you had to put your hand on mingyu's chest to keep from falling. “my poor princess,” he muttered, brushing your hair away from your face. one of his hands rested on your waist and the other moved down to your ass, pulling you closer to his body.

his hard cock was pressing into your stomach and you knew he needed you as much as you needed him, only he was better at hiding it. you whined like a child and grabbed the waistband of his pants, pulling them off of him in one move.

"good job, baby. now i can finally fuck your greedy pussy," he smiled like it was some kind of game. honestly, for him it probably was. without any warning, he suddenly leaned you forward so that your chest was lying on the counter, your cheek and tits against the cold granite, contrasting with the warmth of the hand mingyu had on your ass.

"look at you. you're leaking," he ran his hand down your back. "so what, you expect me to clean up after you afterwards, right?" suddenly you felt him pulling your hair, hard enough to lift your head off the counter. "answer me slut."

“n-no, daddy, i'll clean it up myself later,” he laughed, tugging at your hair again as if he was enjoying your discomfort. "good slut."

as if you were nothing more than his toy, mingyu grabbed your hips roughly and lifted you up so that his cock was touching your ass and you had no choice but to stand on your tiptoes. "this hole probably wants me to fill it with my cum too, but that's for another day, yeah baby?” he asked, running his cock over your puckered hole.

“now your tight pussy needs to get what it deserves," and without any warning, in one quick move his thick cock entered your cunt.

you moaned loudly, closing your eyes from the mind-blowing feeling, mixed with pain, but you didn't care - nothing could compare to the feeling of mingyu's cock stretching your pussy. “f-fuck, baby,” he groaned, pressing his hips harder against yours. "i love your little pussy."

"daddy, p-please move!" you cried, turning your head to look at him, as your cunt sucked him in deeper.

as if he hadn't fucked you in months, mingyu grabbed your hips and started thrusting in and out of you hard and fast, so that your tits were sliding against the counter with every movement and you had no choice but to let your boyfriend fuck you. you couldn't see his face, but you were sure he was biting his lip and his eyebrows were furrowed in concentration.

the sound of his balls slapping against your pussy and the squelching sound of your cunt, mixed with your moans and cries filled your kitchen, and there was no point in trying to muffle the noise anymore.

"my pussy." "i love when my little princess lets me fuck her like that." "tight and warm, a perfect fuck for my cock."

mingyu was starting to babble and you knew he was close too. his movements were getting sloppier, but you were sure you’d be left with bruises from how tightly he was holding you, his finger digging into your flesh. tears were rolling down your cheeks, and you could feel your wetness making a mess between your bodies and surely on the floor too, but you couldn’t care less.

holding you with one hand so you wouldn't fall, his other slipped between your bodies and he quickly found your clit. “mingyu,” you moaned for the hundredth time that afternoon, grabbing his hand to make him rub your clit faster.

"come on. cum on my cock, my princess," with one last stroke and a light pinch to your clit, you felt a wave of warmth wash over you, as your pussy clenched mercilessly on his cock. mingyu moaned loudly and came a second later.

after a moment, he gently grabbed your bruised hips, turning you to face him. he ran his hands up your thighs and brushed your hair away from your face. "but really, honey? it's all because of a few photos?" he smiled as if he hadn't just fucked you until you couldn't sit up straight.

“what can I do about it,” you shrugged, nuzzling into his bare chest. "I simply have the most handsome boyfriend in the world."

mingyu chuckled, his arms wrapping around you in a warm hug. "do you know what your most handsome boyfriend in the world wants now?" you shook your head in amusement, looking at him.

"eat dinner, watch a movie and fall asleep in the arms of the most beautiful girl in the world."

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angelltheninth · 5 months

Text

Guess the Taste of Me

Pairing: Beelzebub x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, blowjob, flavored condoms, banter, taste testing, fingersucking, playful Beelzebub

Word count: 1k

A/N: I know one of his things is scent but I really wanted to do this one first.

"Have you ever had one of these?" Beelzebub rose up from his spot on your bed and nuzzled his cheek against your, interrupting your reading. You locked eyes on his mischievous green ones and looked at the box he was holding. It was a colorful one, pretty big too.

"Flavored condoms?" Something you've seen around a lot, but you've never reached for those before. The usual ones tended to do the trick for you if you wanted to avoid pregnancy. "No. Have you?"

"Not yet." He grinned as he leaned in closer and eased the book out of your hand, "Wanna do a taste test with me?" The box shook in front of your face, almost like he was tempting you to open it.

You glanced at the clock, almost midnight. "Are you trying to make me late for work tomorrow? Just cause you don't have to work doesn't mean us humans don't, Beel." His head tilted with a smirk, his tongue already wetting his lips and he shook the box again, "You're insufferable. Just a few."

"Fuck yeah!" He threw the box at you, and his shirt right after, careful not to snag it on his horn, "Let's make it a little more interesting shall we babe?" With a snap of his fingers he manifested a blindfold, winked at you and then tied it around his eyes, "Take your pick."

You giggled at his enthusiasm, and popped the box open, the colorful packages falling out beside you. "Okay, then..." You picked one at random, looked at the flavor and then tore it open. Beelzebub perked up at the sound of the foil tearing, "Open up for me pretty boy." Said pretty boy was already breathing hard in anticipation and drooling, mouth open for your fingers to slide in. You pushed your index and middle finger past his lips, which immediately closed around you and sucked your fingers in deeper.

His whole body rocked back and forth as he moaned, cock visibly tenting the front of his pants, "Grapes." He guessed correct but didn't stop sucking. Holy shit he was hot like that, mouth closed around you, unwilling to let go. But he had to, it was your turn. Beelzebub huffed out in protest when you pulled away and threw the wet condom to the side.

"That was really hot." You confessed as you took the blindfold too. The moment his eyes were uncovered you saw the lust in them, his pupils leaving only a thin ring of green, which was so much darker now then before. The blindfold wasn't the only thing that came off however, so did his pants and boxers, all quickly kicked away from the bed. "Do you want me to..."

"No, it's alright. We can just taste test tonight. I took them off cause it felt like my dick was gonna explode." He groaned as he wrapped his hand around it, hoping to revive it a little. "Your turn babe."

You heard him curse when you tied the blindfold, leaned against the wall and opened your mouth. Like him you couldn't help but get excited at the tearing sound. You were sure he could see your nipples poking against your shirt, he could probably smell your arousal too. No, you knew he could. Next, a taste and pressure hit your tongue, both familiar. You rolled your tongue against and over his fingers, coating the condom with your saliva, "Hm, caramel flavored."

"Y-Yeah." He pulled his fingers away, making sure to press them against your lips before he fully pulled away. "My turn next."

Grapes, caramel, pear, chocolate...

"Banana." Beelzebub moaned as he chased after your fingers, his cock dripping cum down his hand, "Fuck. So good, let me suck on it some more." You got the sense that he was more into this than you. Made sense, he was the Sin of Gluttony after all.

"Nope. Don't be selfish now mister. It's my turn." He let out a growl of warning and bit the tips of your fingers in retaliation. "So spoiled." Once again you saw nothing but darkness in front of you, your other senses sharpened. He picked up another condom and threw away the package, there was some weight shifting on the bed as you waited for his fingers. Instead you felt another familiar feeling. Beelzebub's thick cock. "Mmmnn!"

"Sorry, Couldn't wait anymore. When you open your mouth like that and lean forward I... I can't help but want to fuck your throat." His hands cradled the back of your head so you wouldn't hit the wall behind you, "Focus baby, focus." He cooed over your whispers, "What flavor is it? How's my cock taste to you now baby?"

You tried to focus on the flavor but your pussy throbbed too much, it was making hard to stay on task. "S-gah-!" Beelzebub hardly let you speak up, pulling back and nudging your lips with his tip and pushing in balls deep as soon as you started talking. "No. Fair. Str- mmmn- berry!" He pressed himself in all the way, hips and hands shaking, accompanied by... "Cum." A taste you knew all too well.

"You got both right." He tugged the blindfold off your eyes and cupped your cheek, smiling down as you as he pulled his cock out, a tiny bit of cum dripping down his cock despite the condom staying on. "Came a little bit too hard there."

"I'll say." You had to flex your jaw up and down. It ached from the unexpected rough pounding but it wasn't too bad. "How many more do we have?"

"Huh? Uh, the box said 10 flavors. So 4 more to go." Four more little surprises for your tastebuds. You patted with out looking and threw another one at him. "Babe? But isn't it my turn?"

"Not anymore. Your cock is still hard. And I think... they taste better when mixed with your cum." Beelzebub's grip almost annihilated the condom. You loved how you could get to him so easily. Before putting the blindfold back on you stripped until you were fully naked, your hard nipples and wet cunt on display for him. Then you put the blindfold over your eyes and beckoned, "My mouth's waiting for you pretty boy."

Orange. Mint. Vanilla. Bubblegum.

#what in hell is bad #what in hell is bad x reader #what in hell is bad x you #what in hell is bad smut #beelzebub #beelzebub x reader #beelzebub x you #beelzebub smut #what in hell is bad beelzebub #whb beelzebub #whb #whb x reader #wihib #wihib x reader #wihib x you #wihib smut

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sophiethewitch1 · 4 months

Text

What We Want - Chpt. 1 - Not Quite An Isekai

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

You awake to the sound of your phone ringing. You slap to the edge of your couch, aiming for the rickety side table. Your wrist smacks against the corner, and you hiss in pain. It’s a few inches too high, and wood, not metal. Seems you somehow got to your bed during the night, but you didn’t remember it. Still, you get your phone. Through squinted eyes, you find the screen, its 3:15, far too early for your drunken suffering- Wait no, it’s mid-afternoon. Still, you feel tired, and you want to sleep.

You answer the phone anyway, putting it on speaker and resting your head back against the pillow. Your head doesn’t hurt that bad anyway. God was smiling down on you today.

“Miss, are you awake?” a man’s voice rings through your apartment.

Who was that? Who called you Miss of all things? Your boss didn’t remember your name sure, but he just called you ‘intern’ instead. You’d been an official employee for six months now. Right, conversation, paying attention, replying like a normal person.

“Hm, yeah, I’m awake,” you say, fighting back the urge to yawn.

“You don’t sound very awake, Miss,” the man replies, his tone familiar.

“Who is this?”

He sighs, “Miss, are you being sarcastic?”

“What? No, I’m serious,” you confusedly answer.

“…This is Alfred, Miss. Now, Master Wayne has asked me to-”

“Master who now?” you cut this Alfred off, doubly confused now. Wayne? Like, the Wayne family? The rich, philanthropist one?

He sighs again, “I understand the relationship between the two of you is quite strained, and this is a personally difficult day for you, but he insists on seeing you. Your birthday gala starts at 7, as I’ve told you, and your assistant will be over at 4. I ask that you unblock both their accounts, as I would much rather I didn’t have to talk to you when you’re like this.”

“What?” you repeat, like the idiot you are.

“Good day, Miss. And happy birthday.”

He hangs up. You blink down at your phone. And then you roll your eyes, because oh my god are Molly’s pranks getting ridiculous. You never should have told her about your weird fascination with the Waynes, she was getting back at you hard for your drunken mistake.

You make a lot of those. Well, life goes on. You’ll put glitter in Molly’s car’s vanity mirror or something.

You turn off your phone, and let your face slam right back into your pillow. For a while, you try to go back to sleep.

…Something about this isn’t right. You, like the freak you are, take a deep inhale of your pillow. It smells like you, like the laundry soap you use, but it also smells like… Well, you don’t know. All you can think about is your new boss’s wife and her awful perfume that swallows the office space like noxious gas.

Your pillow… kind of smells like that. Your first ungodly thought is that, somehow, you spent a torrid night with your boss’s wife. The second is that Molly needs to die for her crimes.

You let your crusty, bleary, stinging eyes blink open.

Hm. Why is there a chandelier in your bedroom? You shoot upright in the bed, silk sheets falling to your lap. Silk sheets you can’t afford. You look around the room, eyes widening at the space. The bed is king-sized, while you had barely been able to afford your twin-sized mattress. The living room isn’t in the same space as the bedroom. You can’t see the kitchen and the bathroom to your right has shining marble tiles. And even then, the decoration’s are luxurious and clean, compared to your livable chaos.

You look to your left, and your mouth drops open.

A floor-to-ceiling window, showing the Gotham horizon with the morning sun. Fog and clouds twist around spiralling gothic towers, reaching down to the people down below. You’re looking out over the bay, and you can see the Narrows barely peaking through the mist, desperately clawing for any sunlight.

The sun rises on the right of your building, not the left. You don’t have a view, you’re on the fourth floor and there’s a brick building directly across from your window. You live in the Narrows.

You live in the Narrows. You press your face to the cool glass and look down. Oh my god, you can’t see the streetside. You’re too high up. You’re somehow on the opposite side of Gotham City.

Stumbling away from the window, you do your best not to touch anything, because you know it’s all too expensive for your peasant hand. Let’s start thinking… whatever was happening to you, through. Molly might kidnap you for a joke, sure, but she was barely any richer than you, and that was just because her boyfriend lived with her. She could not afford this level of fuckery.

So… so… is this, what? A big joke from the universe? Did someone else kidnap you? You have to have been kidnapped, right? Why the fuck would someone kidnap you?

Did the Joker kidnap you? Was he coming to finish you off? End your family line?

You reach down and pinch yourself hard enough you yelp. When the dazzlingly perfect apartment doesn’t disappear, it’s much harder to force yourself not to panic. Okay, okay, okay. It’s fine. This’ll be fine, and it could still be a dream. That whole pinching thing was a myth, right? Argh, maybe you should’ve listened to Molly when she was trying to get you into astral projection.

Wait, Molly!

You go back to your bed and pick up your phone.

It’s… it’s not your phone. What was this? The iPhone 27? You didn’t keep up with those sorts of things, but it looked expensive. Everything here looked expensive.

You think you’re going to go into anaphylactic shock. Wait, no, it’s hyper-something. What was it? Argh, you can’t do this right now!

You press your thumb to the ‘on’ button, and luckily whoever this phone belongs to is not worried about their privacy because there's no password. Stupidly, you look for Molly’s name in your list of contacts.

BLOCKED - ‘Bruce Wayne’

BLOCKED - ‘Damian Wayne’

BLOCKED - ‘Dick Grayson’

BLOCKED - ‘Tim Drake’

‘Alfred :)’

BLOCKED - ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’

You drop the phone. Because the floors, even in the bedroom, are marble, it shatters like glass. You make a sound like a dying chicken as you watch the piece of technology make a bouncing break for the bathroom. It slides to a stop against the giant hot tub, and you pick it up and cradle it between your palms like a newborn.

The screen still works. Even if it’s cracked to high heaven and takes multiple attempts to turn it on, it still eventually does. Thanks God, won’t forget this. You hiss as you open the contacts again, pricking your fingers against the sharp edges.

As fate commands, you click on the ‘Bruce Wayne’ contact. The description is very simple.

‘Massive dickhead. Hope you jump off a building and fall like a rock.’

You go back. Click on ‘Dick Grayson’.

‘Massive dickhead’s beloved firstborn. Most annoying man on earth congrats.’

Again. ‘Damian Wayne’ this time.

‘Massive dickhead’s massive dickhead. Demon? Grinch? Somebody kill it with fire please.’

And finally, ‘Tim Drake’.

‘The only acceptable one.’

…Well, at least your kidnapper liked one of the Waynes. Maybe they kidnapped you because you were their opposite or something? You definitely wouldn’t call Bruce motherfucking Wayne a massive dickhead. Or maybe they wanted to kill you.

The Molly prank idea was becoming more sound. Maybe she won the lottery and didn’t tell you.

You click on ‘Alfred :)’. He’s the one that called you earlier and also called you ‘Miss’, for some reason.

It’s just a bunch of heart emojis. Coherent, sure.

You go back, and click on the final of the list, ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’.

‘Don’t listen to Alfred. She wants to eat you.’

She wants to what?

A knock at the door has you jumping a foot in the air and nearly banging your head on the bathtub’s lip. You hear someone call your name through the door, and you freeze. Who… how? They call your name again, this time their voice louder. They bang on the door.

You creep over to the door.

“Ma’am, if you don’t open this right now, I’m quitting! We both know Alfred contacted you this morning, and he’s going to be very upset if I do so. There’s only so many assistants in this city!” from this close, you can recognise the voice belongs to a woman. She rattles the doorknob.

You lean down, peering through the peephole. The woman has a harsh face, a perfect pencil suit and her blonde hair in a pretty updo. Her makeup is impeccable. You get the feeling this woman is also more expensive than you can afford, despite her calling your name.

Bewildered, you open the door. She slams through like a battering ram, strutting 6-inch stilettos into the space.

She huffs, and then turns around. You can see very clearly she’s trying to keep her calm, but you did leave her at the door for like five minutes. It wasn’t your fault, you thought you were hallucinating or something.

“Ma’am,” she stresses the word, “Please unblock me.”

You blink at her, “Uh, sure.”

She waits, her hands clasped together in front of her.

“Oh- oh, right now?” you stutter, pulling the phone out from your noticeably lavish pyjamas.

Wait had someone changed you in your sleep? What the hell was going on? Maybe you should be more concerned about that, honestly. Still, you do as she commands.

She watches you like a hawk as you stare at the cracked phone. Your eyes flick up at her, and then back down at the screen. Slowly, watching for her reaction, you unblock ‘The Wicked Witch of the West.’ She nods, not even commenting on what was apparently her name in ‘your’ phone.

You were still slightly concerned about the ‘She wants to eat you’ thing, but she seemed… alright. Kind of scary. But not cannibalistic.

Still, this was Gotham after all. A healthy dose of fear was what kept people like you alive.

“Ma’am, did you just wake up? It’s already 4 o’clock,” she gives you a subtly disapproving look, and your shoulders sink like you’re being scolded.

“Yeah- yeah, sorry about that,” you stammer, embarrassed for some unknowable reason. This really was just like a dream. You could tell something was very obviously wrong, but you were still going along with everything like it wasn’t. Everyday life.

You were going to focus on that, this had to be just a dream. Just go along with… this, and then you’d wake up. And if you could manage to get over the uncanny valley-ness of the very obvious wealth surrounding you, maybe you could enjoy it.

You had always wanted to be rich. This was just your brain spewing out random information. Better than the nightmares you usually get.

You’re abruptly pulled back into focus when the woman clears her throat loudly. Ah, shoot. Had she been talking? You definitely hadn’t been listening.

“We need to get you ready, Miss,” she says like she’s repeating herself. You nod, because yes, of course, getting ready.

Ready for what? You think if you ask her she’ll yell at you. So when she grabs your arm and tugs you along, you follow. She pulls you into the bathroom, sitting you down in front of the mirror on a stool. Because this bathroom has stools in it. You stare at your reflection warily, before glancing up at her behind you.

“The stylists will be here in about forty minutes, and the makeup artists in two hours,” she pauses, giving you a strange look, “I appreciate you being so cooperative today. I understand this is all a delicate matter, but I am under Mr. Wayne’s orders first and foremost.”

“Wayne… like Bruce? Bruce Wayne?” you ask, even though there’s really no one else it could be. Still, you have to check.

Because it’s impossible. Even if it’s a dream, it still feels completely impossible. There was just something inside you that said ‘that can’t be right’, even if you knew none of this was real.

You realise, quite late, that you don’t even know this lady's name. ‘Wicked witch’

“Yes, Ma’am. Bruce Wayne of Wayne Enterprises,” she answers you, pulling out her phone and flicking through it. She doesn’t even respond to what you have to assume is an inane question. Maybe ‘dream you’ often asks stupid questions.

‘Normal you’ certainly does.

“Oh… okay…” the conversation drifts off, and she makes no attempt to fill it. Aren’t P.A.s supposed to… you don’t know, fix that? Or maybe she’s not your personal assistant, just an assistant. Silly you, making assumptions.

This bathroom deserves assumptions. You wonder if the gold frame of the mirror is, y’know, real.

The blonde woman walks out of the room without speaking another word to you. You think maybe you should follow her, but instead you just sit there with your hands on top of your knees. Your leg bounces up and down, and you glare it into submission, ignoring the way your muscles jump.

You look at yourself. You look… different. The bags under your eyes are worse than usual, and your gaze sunken into your face. Your hair is sad and oily, knotted in places. Your skin is almost waxy.

You look sick. You look like… you remember, you look like…

In the light of the day, you refuse to think about it. You’re not allowed to, you’ll break if you do.

You just don’t. Even if your reflection just confirms that you have to be dreaming.

Instead, you turn your gaze to the tub. You raise your hand to your hair again. Back in your apartment, you’d had a shower. It was a surprisingly good shower because you’d invested in a showerhead with better pressure. Still, it wasn’t a bath.

You missed bathes. You get up, close the door, lock it, and sink inside the tub. You take off your silky pyjamas inside the bath, and then you toss them on the floor beside you. Sitting there, you watch through the giant window at the world down below. At the ravens and pigeons that fly through the fog, at the few people you can see through the windows and balconies.

You press your cheek against the glass. It’s cold. You’re cold.

You’re sitting in an empty bathtub naked. What are you doing?

Rubbing at your eyes, you reach over to what you think are the controls. They all look very complicated, but there’s a switch that goes from blue to red, so you turn that. It takes another button press for the water to start flowing out. Steam fills the room, and you let out a sigh of contentment.

“Ma’am! Ma’am, the stylists will be here in ten minutes, and you need to get out. Ma’am? Ma’am!”

You shoot up in the bath, splashing water over the overflowing sides. Blinking, you turn your head back and forth and then sink back down. Oh. You’re still here. You went to sleep, but you’re still here. Maybe it’s one of those dreams where you think you wake up, but you haven’t. Or, ah, something similar.

You feel so tired. You really, really didn’t miss this feeling.

Quickly, you wash your hair and body, scrubbing furiously at the oily sweat on your skin. You stumble out of the bath on shaky legs, dry yourself off, and almost trip in your haste to get out the door. Showing off your negligible intelligence, you only realise you’re still wearing just a towel till she manhandles you towards the closet.

A walk-in closet, because of course it is. You think it’s bigger than your apartment. It has a flat bench in the centre because evidently all the walking around you’ll be doing will require a fainting couch.

The woman gives you, horrifyingly, a set of lacy, racy underwear. When all you do is just gape at her, she sighs, takes them from your hands and gives you a simple black set with no frills. You look down at them clasped in your wet hands. They’re clean, and they seem to be your size.

Still, this is a bit…

“Are these… new?” you ask, because there’s no tag or anything.

“Yes, Ma’am. But if you want, we do have some sets still unpacked at the back of the closet,” she says, going along with your weirdness. Even if she was a bit scary, you were grateful for that, at least. You guess celebrities were usually quite eccentric, so maybe this wasn’t out of the ordinary for her.

“Yes, please.”

She gives you a pair of Victoria’s Secret bra and underwear, plain beige and still in their plastic packaging.

“Cool, sweet, thanks,” you say, and she shakes her head just slightly.

She puts a white bathrobe down, and leaves the room, closing the door behind her. You lock it, and then you put on the underwear that you did not buy. The whole experience is strange, but still, you just go along with it. You’re a go-along-with-it kind of person.

You were… you were starting to not like that all of a sudden. Still, out of your depth in an odd dream is no place to start doubting your entire personality. You put on the bathrobe too. And the fluffy slippers that are tucked under them, with great pleasure.

You hear the many voices before you open the door. When you step through it, you feel like you’ve stepped onto the set of a movie. Or well, the backstage at least. Women and men are flittering about the chic apartment in the sort of rush you’d only seen working at BatBurger.

The woman from before spots you and you feel like a rabbit under a hawk's gaze when her brown eyes narrow on you. She strides over to you and then, once again, clamps her grip around your wrist and drags you over. You wonder as you stumble after her if she’s got some meta-human in her because no slim, perfectly put-together lady should be this damn strong.

She pulls you towards a set of three people. You can immediately tell they’re the heads of the operation, with an aura that squashes you like a pancake. Two women, one man. They’re all dressed to the nines, in their own unique ways.

They all look at you with assessing glances. You fear you do not measure.

“I’m surprised, Jeanine. You actually got her this time,” a woman with a black bob and a rocker look comments, her red lips twisting into a grin. You realise, with a start, that the blonde woman who was not incorrectly nicknamed ‘The Wicked Witch of The West’ was actually called Jeanine.

Lovely, you were getting the hang of things.

“Yes, she was very agreeable this afternoon. I’d like to apologise once again for any past issues,” Jeanine says, all business. You still have no idea what’s going on, and definitely no idea what they’re talking about. But what you assumed was the jist of it… was that ‘dream you’ wasn’t a very harmonious person.

Lovely, lovely, lovely. This was a bit of a personal nightmare for a people pleaser like you. Actually, it was a literal personal nightmare. Lovely.

“The disrespect I’ve faced is immeasurable. But, Monsoir Wayne pays exceedingly well. Still, it’s nice to actually have our dear client before us,” the other woman says, appraising her french tip nails. Which, considering she said ‘monsoir’ and the whole accent, would make a lot of sense. She’s closer to a classic beauty than her punk rock friend, with brown hair coiled and beautiful pearls across her neck.

“I don’t know, I thought I’d be getting paid for doing no work tonight. Ruins my plans,” the man teases, and you’re relieved at the kindness in his gaze. He’s wearing a suit with a dazzling but trendy red tie. His tie has an odd metallic sheen to it, a fabric your peasant mind couldn’t place.

If Molly were here, she’d jab you in the stomach with an elbow and whisper “One of those homosexuals, me thinks” even if she was bi herself.

You wish Molly were here.

“Yes, well, I’d like it if we could all work together tonight. And get to it quickly, the drive to the Wayne Tower isn’t a quick one with the evening traffic, so, if you’d please.”

And that was that. No introductions, no extra pleasantries. You were swept away in a whirl of fabric and hair products.

They stuff you into a gorgeous evening gown, its colour reminding you of a sparkling midnight sky. Rhinestones dot down the sides, coalescing at the bottom. You hope they’re not real diamonds. Gloves, a bracelet, a necklace, and dripping pearl earrings. It was all impeccably put together, and you felt uncomfortable with such items on you. You didn’t dare ask how much it all cost, despite being desperately curious.

They slip towering 6-inch stilettos on you despite your protests, cake your face in enough powder to make you sneeze. Dramatic liner and eyelashes that felt heavy on your face, a lipstick that had to be coated twice because you chewed on your lip with nerves.

And then you’re done, dizzy and confused but thoroughly made up.

You get one quick look at your reflection before Jeanine is pulling you up and out of the seat.

They’d gotten rid of the signs.

You ignore the part of you that desperately wants them back and follow Jeanine out into the elevator.

Despite the fact that it is, in fact, a very long drive to the Wayne Tower, she does not seem inclined to say a single word to you. The ride is awkward and quiet, broken only by the sound of you pressing buttons in the back of limousine, and even that stops when you get an unimpressed look from her.

So you just sit there, vibrating at frequencies unseen by man.

When you finally arrive at Wayne Tower, the crowd shocks you. There are so many paparazzi, nearly overflowing the flimsy barricades and onto the carpeted marble entryway. The tower itself is a display of outrageous wealth, towering over the rest of Gotham City easily. You think for a while it’d been the tallest building in the world, but you couldn’t remember your elementary school education all that well.

It wasn’t like this information would’ve been useful at any point in your life. You still don’t think it will be, as this is all a very vivid dream.

The door opens, and immediately you’re overwhelmed by the camera flashing. You hunch away from the lights like a vampire, but Jeanine pushes you forward.

“We’re already very late, Ma’am. No time for faffing around,” she says from behind you, hand placed squarely against your back.

What? But all you’d done was rush around all afternoon! You know, if you’d just taken one of the trains or even the Skyrail you’d have been able to avoid this. Still, you’re out the door, up the steps, not given a moment to react to the questions thrown at you.

“Miss! Miss, are you here to celebrate your birthday? Don’t you think it’s a bit callous to ignore the tragedies of today?”

“Miss! Is it true you’ve been disowned?”

“Miss, miss, about your family…!”

Oh, well, even if what they’re saying is awful, it’s a relief. It’s your birthday again. You think the guy who had called you said happy birthday. That meant none of this could possibly be real. See? It had to be a dream. Had to, had to… You decide to ignore literally everything else they say, letting the words float through your very hollow brain.

Life’s a lot easier when you play it a little stupider.

The heels and the stairs are an awful combination, and if it wasn’t for Jeanine’s herculean strength you’re certain you’d be tumbling down them right now. Your assistant… secretary… lady is careful not to let that happen, however.

Maybe you judged her too quickly. You appreciated anyone who made sure you didn’t fall flat on your ass. It was a good quality for a person to have.

You don’t get to appreciate the Wayne Tower all done up. You don’t get to stare at the lights and flowers strung into the art deco rafters. You don’t get to stare and gape and look like an idiot, because Jeanine wants you to look like an idiot elsewhere.

In the middle of all these fucking random rich people you don’t know. Hurray!

You’re shoved into a group of people, with Jeanine at your back. She starts rattling off names and titles and relations, and you can’t make heads or tails of any of it. You turn to look at her with what must be a genuine deer-in-headlights fear, and she stops and then starts speaking slower.

Thank God for that. Well, since she’s making an effort, you do too.

“This is Lianne Jenkins, wife of Senator Jenkins,” Jeanine whispers into your ear, and you nod. You knew him, you’d voted for him, in fact. How the fuck were you here talking to his wife? She’s not looking at you, instead talking to someone beside her. She turns, and you put on the best smile you can.

The socialite physically startles when she sees your face. Great.

“Oh- oh my!” her voice stutters over your name like she can barely even remember it, “I didn’t know you’d be here tonight, it’s a pleasure to see you!”

It… it was your birthday party, right? Your name was on a giant banner at the back of the room, so you had to assume it was. Dream logic. Just- just blame it on dream logic.

“Oh, look it’s Gerald! I’m sorry my dear I really have to-”

And she just ditched you. At your birthday party. You blink at the space she just evacuated and then turn around to Jeanine. You probably give her some sort of weird Kubrick stare, and she winces. She then looks around for someone else for you to talk to. From the growing despair on her face, you can assume she doesn’t find anyone.

“I don’t want to be here,” you say.

“I said I’d quit, remember?” she replies. You think she’s lying to you. She looks about as desperate as you feel, which is a lot. You were seeing a lot of sides of ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’ today. She seemed less wicked and more generally insane. Hey, at least the two of you had something in common.

You turn away from her, eyes roving over the party. You recognise some people, because you know, they’re all rich and famous. That guy over there was in a movie you pirated recently. The one on your right seems to be someone important in online tech spaces. You think he did NFTs or something, which made you sad because you did not want that sort of person at your birthday party. Oh, the woman on the other side of the room eating canapes is an Instagram influencer, you think. The fantasy of a Wayne party gala is fading fast, falling out of the sky like a comet of fire to bring doom and death to mankind.

You are so out of your depth.

You turn back around to Jeanine.

“I really, really don’t want to be here,” you repeat, and Jeanine, shocking you, grabs your hands in hers.

“Please stay. Just for thirty minutes, please,” she begs you, her dark eyes pleading. And because you are the living personification of a doormat, you sigh.

“Alright. But only for thirty. And I’m getting very, very drunk.”

“Thank you, thank you. I’ll be right beside you the entire time-”

You decide, oh so kindly, that you are totally ditching Jeanine, too. Spinning in your dress, you make a grand effort to get away from her, but she dogs you loyally. The goliath-like heels you’re wearing don’t make it any damn well easier. Still, you don’t stop trying to outrun the tiny, control freak of a woman. Because while she definitely seems to desperate to stay near you, you are also very desperate to not be near her.

Your hand itches. Randomly, it itches quite a lot. You don’t know why you only notice what must be a bug bite inside the gala, but you do. Awkwardly, you scratch your palm with your other hand, staring down at the skin. It doesn’t look red yet, but it honestly it’s getting kind of annoying.

You sigh again, and turn to ask Jeanine if she had any lotion or something, because you assume that’s what stalking personal assistants are for and… she’s not there. Somehow you lost her, without even noticing.

You throw your arms into the air. Yippee! Now, it’s time for alcoholism, as is the answer to all problems in life. It’s what the loving and maternal arms of Gotham had taught you, after all.

You stumble your way to a wall where there’s a set of food, and a server with a silver platter carrying a bunch of champagne glasses. You stop the guy before he moves again, your hands in the air like you’re trying to soothe a scared animal.

You point at the tray, “I want that.”

He looks at you with mild horror. You thought rich people were weird, like he’d be used to something like this. It wasn’t like you were asking for the shirt off his back or cocaine or something. If it wasn’t obvious, you really didn’t know anything about what rich people did.

“It’s my birthday. It’s totally cool. I asked Bruce myself,” You bald-faced lie, like you’d ever even met the man. Like a predator, you watch the man carefully put the tray down next to the rest of the food, and then he slowly backs away from you. Well, okay, you could admit that was kind of weird. This night is getting to you. God knows this loud-as-fuck party was more overstimulating than anything you could usually stand. And so bright. What a shitty fairytale ball.

You grab one of the flutes of champagne and swirl it, sniff it, and then once you’ve gone through the polite checklist of drinking you throw it back like it’s a shot of vodka. There were people watching after all. Wait, they’d probably seen you corner that poor server boy.

Hmm, this requires cake. You choose a random slice that looks like it might be strawberry something, and dig in eagerly. It tastes fucking fantastic. The cream is sweet and soft, and the jam has a pop of flavour you totally weren’t expecting. And the cake itself was a lovely, spongy texture.

Grand. Maybe if you just sat here like a wallflower and ate food and drank liquor you could handle this. It wasn’t any different from how you behaved at Molly’s college parties.

So, you decide to work your way up and down the buffet table. Most of it’s delicious, but when you try things you can’t quite recognise, there’s a twenty-percent chance it’ll be disgusting and you’ll have to spit it out to avoid poisoning. You’re careful not to try the caviar, despite your own curiosity. You’d heard that it just tasted like salty water, and that didn’t mix well with whatever you were currently putting in your stomach.

You look down at your hand. It’s another piece of the sponge cake, wedged between a napkin so your dirty fingers didn’t touch it and you didn’t have to bother with another plate. You giggle, because it really is that good.

Ah, this is great. You could do this forever, screw thirty minutes. You eye the entrance the servers keep coming in and out of, and wonder if Jeanine would get mad if you tried to follow them into the kitchens. Probably, probably…

The question was, was it worth it? You’re debating the merits when the sound of someone's shoes stops next to you. You think it’s a man, and you consider barking at him to get away from the buffet, but decide you’ve tried everything and can probably share again. It takes great strength, though. You decide you deserve some more champagne for the kindness.

It’s after a moment that you realise he’s not taking anything.

“Oh, so you actually showed up? Colour me surprised,” a familiar, calm, masculine voice speaks from behind you. Your mouth drops open, and you spin on your heel. If you hadn’t been clinging to the table cloth you’d have fallen over, but still, you drop the champagne flute, and it bursts in a spray of liquid and glass against your dress.

It also splatters on the dress shoes of one Tim Drake.

First the phone, now the delicious drink. You really wished you’d stop dropping things.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

#Series:WWW #yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere batfamily #yandere batfam x reader #yandere x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader

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mondaymelon · 8 months

Text

— 𝗷𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘀𝘆, 𝗷𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘀𝘆…♡

໒꒱ || :feat~ yandere!childe, dottore, scaramouche x gn!reader:

໒꒱ || cw: low and behold, jealousy, possessive + obsessive (who would’ve thought), oops he’s yandere mb, established relationship, dottore... chokes you? you’re his subordinate + dr*gging (scara) dont ask me what im doing i dont know either

⤷ “You’re mine, and I’ll make sure you won’t forget that.”

“Where were you yesterday night?”

CHILDE’s empty gaze lands on you and doesn’t let you leave it’s sight as soon as you walk through the door. You sense an air of displeasure surrounding your boyfriend as he leans back on the wall, arms crossed over his chest with his eyes fixtated on you. You haven’t done anything wrong, so why do you feel like a deer caught in headlights?

“I just went out with some friends…?” You aren’t sure of the source of his inexplicable anger, but you decide it’d be best not to trigger it.

“They treated me to some street food, and that was it, really…” It’s hard to elaborate further with the harbinger keeping completely silent, and his gaze feels like it’s piercing you.

He echoes a word that seems to have sparked his interest. “‘They?’” “Uhm- you know, Xingqiu, Chongyun, and Xiangling…”

Unconsciously, you let a brief smile cross your face at the mention of your good friends’ names, remembering the lively bustle of Liyue Harbor and the many laughs shared between the four of you.

It’s a sight that doesn’t escape Childe’s keen eye. Instantly, he’s three steps closer, with your chin raised in his gloved hand. “Wipe that smile off of your face, goddamnit.” He speaks through gritted teeth, though his harsh voice is obscured by the way his words come out as a soft hiss. His brows are furrowed, eyes flashing with annoyance as he pauses and takes in a deep breath.

“Wh…what’s with you? Don’t do those things so suddenly!” You yelp, attempting to move away only for your back to hit the wall.

The male only lets out a breathy laugh. “Ah, honestly, I don’t know what I’m doing either…” He’s much more reserved now, but you know him well enough to be aware of how he’s silently seething under the surface. “Archons, you’re a troublesome thing, aren’t you? To think affection would do such a thing to me… hah, what a thrill!” He glances up long enough for you to catch his twisted expression, eyes blown and a smile spreading across his face. “Jealousy, hm? Hahaha, oh how the troops would ridicule me if they knew!” He stops to take in a breath, his chest heaving up and down erratically. What a fool you’ve made me, darling.”

“Wh-What?” He’s moving closer, too close, his hot breath fanning your face.

“Look at me, you’ve made me a pliable idiot under your touch, haven’t you? Don’t even think about leaving now.”

“You don’t have to worry, all I’ll do is just make sure that pretty little head if yours doesn’t think about anything except me only.” ♡

“A friend, you say?”

DOTTORE has a quizzical look about him, as it’s rather odd how much amusement his crimson eyes hold. “Hmm, is that so?”

“Yes…?” You don’t know what has come over your boyfriend at the moment, but he ponders your words as if they hold a different meaning - which, they don’t. Something about the way he stares at you makes you feel like the guilty party… but you haven’t done anything wrong, have you?

“I need a name.” He whips out a small notebook out of seemingly nowhere, a pen also appearing in his hand.

“Oh, uhm-“ You momentarily pause, hesitant as you pictured the familiar fox-eared forest ranger. “He’s not exactly fond of the Fatui…”

The male lets out a hum, smile only spreading wider. “All the better. Explain him. Thoroughly.”

You frown. “Why are you so fixated on-“

You swallow your words as they’re interrupted by a sound that’s more akin to a bark than a laugh. “Ahhh, I knew giving you my hand would be beneficial, just look how delightfully humorous you are!” He strides closer, one step, then another, effortlessly closing the space between the two of you. You can feel his red gaze through where it’s obstructed from the mask he always dons, and you have a feeling that his eyes are trained toward your every move. “Do you truly mean to say that I am not to ask of this ‘friend’ of yours?”

“It shouldn’t be of your concern…”

“Oh, but it is.” Dottore does what looks like a shrug, an action you certainly wouldn’t put past him. “Do I not have the right to monitor my partner’s actions? Who knows,” He steps even closer, his arms positioned in either side of you. “What kind of things you might be doing with this ‘friend’ of yours?”

“Dottore, what you’re implying right now is-!”

“My name sounds good in your mouth. You should say it more often.” Even in such a situation, he won’t stop his teasing mannerisms. “Ah, but perhaps you say his name much more often, don’t you?”

The words escape your mouth before you can halt them: “Tighnari isn’t!-“

“Tighnari, you said?” Dottore lets out a low chuckle, his voice giving way to his definite ecstasy. “Ah, so that’s his name? I’ll be sure to remember it. Hm, who knows, perhaps he’d make a wonderful subject of mine?”

“Why- Why are you doing this??”

“Isn’t it obvious, darling?” He’s shifted closer once more, and the very air you breathe feels suffocating. “I desire for you, and only you. Ahhhahah, you have me wrapped around your finger, don't you? Carve up my heart for all it matters, just be mine.” His fingers find his way around your throat, and it’s even harder to inhale than before. Dizzying black spots begin to grow larger, casting the edges of your vision into to darkness. “But in order for to us to live happily, together, I’ll have to make sure of things first… and first on the list…” A low growl makes its way out of his throat. “I’ll just need to make sure there won’t be any lasting regrets for you, hm? Just a few dead here and there, who’s really going to notice? After all…”

“I can’t have you running from my grasp, can I?” ♡

“Why didn’t you tell me that you’d be going out tonight?”

SCARAMOUCHE’s scornful glare is enough to make you cower where you stand in front of the door to his private quarters. His significantly short stature made it rather difficult for him to tower over you, but the deathly aura that surrounded the male was already more than enough.

“My apologies, sir. I was not aware that it was mandatory to inform you of my departure.” You give him a swift bow, casting your eyes to the floor. Several possibilities ran through your head. Perhaps he’d just settle for a rather harsh scolding, or maybe a social probation. Either way, a small part of you stirred in annoyance at your superior’s words. Nowhere in the trainee handbook had such a rule been written! You had heard the not quite so savory rumors of the 6th Harbinger numerous times before, and while they had never really proved to be a significant problem, the reason they had even surfaced in the first place was beginning to dawn on you.

“Where?” He raises his hand, a sign to lift your head. He’s being rather gracious today…? Perhaps he had been in a good mood - that is, until you soured it.

“I’m sorry, sir?”

“Where did you go?” There’s clear frustration in his tone for having to repeat himself.

“To the nearest marketplace. The soldiers in the east quadrant needed more supplies.”

“And you complied? You let them just push you around like that?

“Respectfully, sir, if I hadn’t, they would’ve done the same and pestered someone else. There was no task assigned to us-”

“Us?”

“I and another lieutenant, sir. He agreed to help me because-”

“Did I grant you the right to go with that scum?” It startles you, how much venom lies in his words. Posture stiffening, you manage to glance up, only to meet his burning violet gaze.

“Sir, I don’t underst-”

“Of course you don’t understand.” Something seems to suddenly come over the harbinger as he doubles over in his signature maniacal laughter. “You never understand, do you??”

You take a step back, only for your heel to hit the wall behind you. “Lord Scaramouche…?” For every quickened breath you take, he sways an inch closer.

“I’ve been sending you so many signs, doing nearly everything in my power to just make it so my affection would get through to that dense head of yours, but no, you still remain ignorant, ignorant for how much I’m willing to do for you! Anything and everything, no matter where and what. If it means words of praise from your mouth and your warmth touch, then any task is worth fulfilling.” The malice in his eyes dims slightly as he closes them, smiling at you brightly as he slides his hand into yours. His hand is cool, his skin smooth and unblemished, yet rigidly unnatural, the sharp angles of his joints proof of the way he was crafted into this world. A being… incapable of love…? No, the heartless being in front of you was certainly capable, and far too deeply immersed in the feeling. His lips brush against yours, yet darken dangerously when you shift your head away as an act of avoidance.

“Don’t be like that, not after all the trouble I’ve went through, just to ensure that you’ll finally be in my arms…” There’s a flash of light, a tendril of purple lightning, and all of a sudden, your limbs feel weak. You don’t know when you’ve collapsed onto the floor, or when you’ve been nestled into Lord Scaramouche’s arms, but you’re able to make out his words through the fog in your mind.

“Ah? It seems that the solution I slipped into your dinner proved to be quite potent. It’s a shame you won’t be seeing more of it, but alas, I can’t possibly keep you here any longer. Not when there are countless of those dogs salivating over the thought of you, those wretched vermin…” Sensation in your fingers, his lips against the back of your hand as he kisses it gently.

“There won’t be any need to worry anymore, darling. I’ll be all that you need.” ♡

(a/n) for you guys who were hoping for something soft n fluffy, sorry, please take this offering as an apology.

“Ah, I hate this feeling, whenever you hang out with them it’s just…”

“Are you… jealous?”

“What?? No, no way!! Don’t get the wrong idea, alright?”

“Don’t worry love, you are my one and only beloved, so please don’t worry about me leaving you, because rest assured, it will never happen.”

“I…😭🥹🥺🥺”

smoochy smooch the end !!

help i feel like the quality of my fanfic is just slowly degrading over time have i peaked is it just downhill from here am i growing to become old and wrinkled 😞

(oh… it’s been a while hasn’t it…. a month of unexcused absence… i was trying to post this early but the yandere theme made me reach a stalemate FUCKK IM SORRY ILL WRITE MORE PSPSPS IM SORRY FOR NEGLECTING ALL OF YOU WAAAH)

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123

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dreamermonica · 1 year

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you belong with me !

when someone else approaches their partner, how do they react?

—includes itoshi rin, michael kaiser, itoshi sae

—gender of reader isn't specificied, fluff, established relationships, angy bllk boys, mentions of creeps, unwanted contact and such. first post in this blog, hope everything goes well!

all hell goes loose when RIN catches sight of another person gripping your wrist—especially when you look utterly terrified and confused. they dare to touch someone that is leagues above their own, someone that's already taken by one of the most well-known soccer players in the world, and do it without the bare minimum of consideration for your own feelings? in that very moment, he only sees red.

quickly apprehending the cause of your discomfort by ripping the person's hand off of your arm and retracting you to his chest with a small oomf from you—a harsh glare burns onto the person's face. you could probably see the intensity of his stare just by looking at the person's horrified reaction.

“who are you to touch them like that?” his airy voice brings comfort to the erratic beating of your heart, your tense form slowly melting in his hold.

right now, he doesn't care that he's attracting unnecessary attention. the crowd that's slowly forming around the commotion he'd caused is the least of his problems right now. sure, it'll probably ruin the stealth of your date but he needs to see this insignificant pest to drown in shame until he's satisfied.

“rin—it's fine. this type of stuff is normal, let's just go, hm?” you probably sensed that he was ready to take it a step too far, and when he kills down the glare on his expression to look at you properly with his usual indifferent eyes, you heave out a sigh of relief.

tugging on his coat, you smile at him nervously. “c'mon now! let's resume our date before anyone recognizes you!”

contrary to the usual soft and compliant rin you're used to, he does not budge an inch. seemingly glued to the floor after your words. “what did you say?”

“...huh?”

“before what you just said right now. you mean this type of interaction is normal?”

with how intense his stare burns into yours, you grow sheepish each passing second—hand reluctantly raising to rub the back of your neck in confusion and slight bewilderment.

wait, he didn't know that until now? how are you going to word this properly without sounding sensitive? “well—uh, you see...you're like, crazy popular, and everyone knows i'm dating you, so of course i'd also grow popular too, and then you know you also have some of these crazy fans that hate me and—” you cut yourself off when you feel a familiar air of anger rise once more.

your lover does not reply, and only carefully brings out his phone to dial what you recognize as his manager's phone number—and very, very scary words coming out from his lips while shifting his stare back at the person who's now groveling at his feet.

his little conversation about hiring bodyguards and telling the media they're doomed for affecting your safety does not faze you one single bit. there's only one thought inside your pretty little mind as you stare at the dark expression of itoshi rin.

oh lord. what have you done?

if there's anything KAISER hated more than anything, it would be when someone touches something, or in this case, someone who solely belongs to him. a emperor usually has his own certain treasures, and they're kept away from the hands and eyes of commoners and peasants for a reason. should one give into their selfish desires and attempt to take away his treasures—an inevitable treason is in line.

“what the hell is this? some irrelevant bumpkin treading where he doesn't belong?” with how loud and condescending the blonde sounds, you're certain that he's doing it so that it garners the entire room's attention.

a celebration party is held to commemorate bastard münchen's latest victory—hence the crowd full of friends and families of the football team's members alike are gathered, along with expensive investors and celebrities wanting to meet the famous aces of the country. funny acts committed in parties like these are not common, yet not all that uncommon either.

but it's mostly happens for the nobodies. who would even consider getting too friendly with the infamous partner of michael kaiser—who's offhandedly the embodiment of bastard in bastard münchen?

at the end of the day, it seems there's someone with more-balls-than-brains here in front of him. it's interesting, in a way. kaiser thinks as grins as the man's face contorts into a way that feeds his own sadism. the day was starting to get boring until this little failure came to ruin his—

a gentle squeeze on his hand halts his violent thoughts.

he cranes his neck to look at you with an eyebrow raised, your [e/c] hues glinting in a way that's telling him to stop whatever he's going to do before it goes too far.

contemplating options as the football ace glances back at the man drowning in shame amidst the sea of judgemental looks thrown his way, he heaves a deep sigh. one of defeat rather than disappointment. he's already well-aware of your forgiving nature.

“okay. i'll cut it out. but in one condition,” he looks back at you, squeezing your hand back as a smirk creeps on his face. “we ditch the party.”

“wha—? but isn't this whole event your idea in the first place?” you come nothing short of confused, hand still in his.

“meh, who cares.” he retorts boredly, snapping his fingers to call on forth the body guards hired for the party, before gesturing towards the man—kicking him out for the good and betterment of guests. “it was getting boring anyway. 'only hosted this event just so i could see you all dressed up.”

dressed up for his victory, he chooses not to add to spare your blushing face. that final goal he scored would've made his fans froth at the mouth if they were up close. he briefly wonders if you had reacted the same. er—most likely not, but a man can dream.

“you're so infuriating, you know that?” you comment without any malice, a small smile spreading on your lips when kaiser starts tugging you away from the room filled with expensive champagnes and rich ambassadors. almost feels like a daydream to run away like this, hand in each other while noa's scoldings fall on deaf ears.

a light laugh escapes his lips, “but you still love me anyway.”

he sends a playful wink your way right after, and you might just faint—knees weakened and all.

SAE seems indifferent at first, blankly staring at the person attempting to woo you. is it of disbelief? disgust, even? whatever it was, he just kept staring while the person uttered the most horrendous pick up lines your poor ears have ever heard. you were too preoccupied in tuning out the person's musings to even notice sae moving towards you.

it sure is a pain to have an attractive s/o. the famous football player just went to the bathroom and he comes back to see another man kissing up to you like some dog whimpering for scraps of food. in this case, the scraps of food the dog was getting desperate for was your number. a shitshow, he thinks.

“sorry, but i'm actually waiting for someone.” you finally managed to formulate a sentence without the man cutting it off once again with his terrible lines. you forgo the urge to compare him to an npc designed to rizz up a rock. it was genuinely that bad. bad enough that the rock would probably grow legs just to get away from him.

“you've said that what, three times now? where's that person yer' talkin' about, huh?” the man leans closer while rubbing the insides of his ear, causing you to cautiously take a step back. god, a bath could really help this man, and he's right—where is your boyfriend? “just lemme hit now, you won't regret it one bit—”

a sturdy hand places itself onto the creepy man's shoulder, roughly, and i mean, roughly turning the man around to face a maddened pair of emerald hues. right before you and the man stands an enraged itoshi sae—one of the most well-known aces of the entire country. from the way the man stays paralyzed in his place, it's not hard to deduce that he probably recognizes the living and breathing legend right in front of him.

“out of my sight, unless you want things to get dirty.” the soccer genius is known to be level-headed and rational even in dire situations when it comes to within and outward of the field, so who exactly are you staring at right now?

the redhead coldly dismisses the man with a chilling glare, before approaching you with hands now stuffed in pockets, eyebrows raised as if to question your dumbfounded look. “let's get going. the grime is starting to rub off on me.”

ah, that's right.

you let him grab your wrist to drag you away, his demeanour doing a complete 180 as he asks about what kind of food you'd want to eat today, naming your favourite restaurants one by one whilst he tugs you around, ignoring the double takes of passerbys making sure they didn't just see sae itoshi in the flesh.

the man you're staring at right now...is your lover

the very same man who shut down the touchy feely dude earlier, not to mention him completely dismissing the entire situation as to not ruin your mood, the one who has all your favourite restaurants memorized, the very same guy who invited you out today because he simply wanted to see you and enjoy the day with you, the boy who chose you out of millions, and millions of admirers—

you're simply looking at your boyfriend, itoshi sae. not the genius revered by multiple nations, but simply a man who loves you just as much as you do to him.

a smile spreads on your face as you finally keep up with his pace, now beside him instead of being dragged around like a lost puppy. “hmm, why don't you choose? i'm feeling like trying some new today.”

“okay. we're going spicy then.”

(ik bastard means like sword or smth for germans ok kaiser being THE bastard just sounded right for me)

edit; okay just found out bastard actually means bastard, it makes more sense now

ALSO YES I HC SAE LIKES SPICY FOOD

#blue lock x reader #rin itoshi x reader #sae itoshi x reader #michael kaiser x reader #rin x reader #sae x reader #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi rin x reader #kaiser x reader #bllk x reader #kaiser x y/n #kaiser x you #itoshi rin x y/n #itoshi sae x y/n #har❗#har❗fiction

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brain-rot-central · 2 months

Text

Sonnet of the Lone Cardinal

A/N: This is a working title. I reserve the right to change it going forward, lol. This is also my first AA fic! Can't believe it took me this long. Also feel free to note any other tags I may have missed. I'll add them as I go.

Rating: E Word count: 5.1k Pairing: Ascended Astarion/Fem!Tav Warnings: 18+, post-canon, PiV sex, creampie, angst, stalking behavior, obsessiveness, possessiveness, manipulative behavior (overall A's not really the greatest in this), use of derogatory language (though not at anyone specifically), messy break-up, depictions of gore, break-up (maybe make-up?) sex

Summary: Astarion has performed the Rite, becoming someone unrecognizable. Tav leaves him after settling their business with the Netherbrain, refusing his proposition to become his consort. She uses these last 6 months to heal her broken heart, mourning all they were and what they could have been. Hopefully all her hard work has paid off, because he's decided he wants her back and drops in for a visit.

♥ Next Chapter ♥ Link to Ao3

“It's awfully dangerous for such delectable morsels to leave their windows open this time of night.”

The whimsical voice comes from behind. With it, a rush of cold air sweeps through the quaint upstairs bedroom. Curtains lining the double panes of the front windows dance as the breeze blows in. Papers on the dresser scatter about the floor.

A young woman dressed in a sheer linen nightgown sits at her vanity, combing through her long red hair, when she freezes.

A familiar scent dances beneath her olfactory nerves - heady, rich, citrus. She breathes deeply, the warm spice of the cologne sweeping through her. Waves of heat pulse throughout her body as her ears pick up the sound of footsteps drawing closer.

With a sigh, the woman closes her eyes as the assailant reaches her position, their footsteps coming to a halt behind her.

It's him, she realizes. She’s never been more sure of anything else in her life.

Many months have passed since their last meeting. Passion burned as hot as an Infernal forge on that night. Promises of love, of pleasure, of power poured freely from their lips as their bodies intertwined. At that moment, she was prepared to give him everything - her life, her freedom, her body, soul.

She would have, had she not come to realize it was all an elaborate farce.

As she cracks open her eyes, daring to look up, the woman catches his reflection in the vanity mirror. With an audible gasp, it quickly dawns on her that this is the first time she’s seeing his face reflected in a glass pane.

Their eyes meet in the mirror, her chest suddenly heaving.

It is him.

And by the Gods, he's even more devastatingly handsome than she remembers.

“You never know what sort of monsters are out lurking the streets, hm?” he purrs, bringing his face close to her ear.

Assaulted once more by the warm spice of his cologne, her head spins.

“Astarion,” the woman whispers, nearly breathless. “What are you doing here?”

Craning his head, Astarion dips down into the nape of her neck, inhaling deeply. Her pulse quickens as he draws near, heart hammering away in her ribcage. His lips curl, fangs gleaming in the faint candlelight illuminating the room as his tongue sweeps over his teeth.

“I needn't an invitation to go where I please now, pet,” he pants against her neck.

A cold shudder shoots down her spine.

There was a time when her body would come alight from his many terms of endearment.

Darling, dear, sweet, pet, love.

Love.

“Nothing special, of course. You're only the first person I truly care for.”

His words echo in the far recesses of her mind. The words of her companion and partner, her lover… of a man who no longer exists.

That night in the ritual chamber, he changed.

The sound of the staff hitting the stone floor reverberates off ancient walls. Cazador and his spawn playing their parts, bound together in blood by the Rite. Astarion, levitating at the center, eyes burning red as an aura of blood envelops him. He's chanting the words - the Infernal seance that was once meant to be his end.

Her tongue lay heavy in her mouth. Words fly across her mind; desperate pleas begging him to reconsider, to stop this. None ever make it past her lips.

Suddenly, the spawn pop. One after the other.

Pop, pop, pop.

Astarion laughs, loud and boisterous, relishing the new found power that comes with each death.

Finally comes Cazador's turn.

He screams - a true blood-curdling scream. The type you hear moments before a person knows death has come, all too late. His voice carries on as she stands in the chamber, helplessly watching Cazador succumb to the ritual. He bursts at the seams into a pile of pulverized matter, dripping onto the floor below, completely unrecognizable.

Then suddenly, the room is engulfed by a haunting silence.

The Ascension… is complete.

The aura around Astarion fades and he drops down onto the platform below his feet. He remains kneeling for a moment. The sound of his breathing is all that fills the chamber, companions too stunned to speak.

He rises, slowly turning to face their leader. Looking upon his face, she sees the horrible truth lay bare before her.

Her lover is no more.

She's mourned him, the promise of them, ever since that night. Cried tears until her head throbbed and her face swelled, cried until nothing but sleep could soothe the ache in her heart.

And here he stands behind her, a scowl littering his visage as their eyes meet yet again in the mirror.

Her heart pounds in her throat, tears welling at the corners of her eyes. She swallows, asking, “Why did you come here, Astarion?”

Astarion pulls himself back, taking a few paces away from the woman. Folding his arms over his chest, he replies, “My darling Tav, I've come to take you home.”

“Home? I am home,” insists Tav. Turning her body, still seated in her chair, she scans him over.

Moonlit curls sweep elegantly across his forehead, framing his face. Ruby gems glint in the dim light of the room. He's wearing a black and silver doublet, blood-red dragons delicately embroidered on the lapel. Every bit elegant and refined; elite.

Astarion's face softens. He draws closer again, Tav’s breath hitching as his hand cups her chin. Tilting her face up toward his, he states, “I've given you more than enough freedom.” He cranes his head, bringing his lips a breath above her own as he whispers, “Don't you think?”

The velvet grace of his voice makes her dizzy. Tav realizes she feels heat radiating off his skin as their faces draw closer in proximity; a stark contrast to his usual aura. Her face burns - a fire that quickly spreads down into her belly. Tav tries to speak but Astarion closes the distance, lips capturing hers in a delicate embrace. His kiss is soft, alluring, unhurried.

Gentle, she thinks to herself. He's being so gentle.

“Astarion-” she protests, logic returning to her as she breaks the kiss. Tav scans his face, drawing her head back. Heavy lids fall over his eyes as they transfix upon her lips. He’s hungry, in more ways than one.

She knows that look. It's the very same he'd give her night after night in his tent, when all he wished was to share his body with her. Instead, they'd find other ways to partake in the ecstacy of one another until they were left breathless and panting.

But that was long ago.

Astarion's tongue darts out to lick over his lips as he says, “A lord is nothing without his dearest consort.” He moves to kiss her again, but Tav quickly ducks out of reach. She stands, hands clenched in tight fists.

“No,” she insists, locking eyes with him. She furrows her brow. “I will not be made into your personal plaything!”

A chuckle rumbles from his chest. Astarion tilts his head, a smirk forming on his face. “‘Plaything?’” he reiterates. “Do you believe I think that little of you?” Astarion brushes his knuckles over Tav’s cheek. “My darling treasure,” he begins, “I have many playthings, though none are quite like you.”

Tav’s pupils blow wide.

Astarion means to make her jealous with talk of other lovers. He means to fill her mind with images of him making love to unknown beings. To make her think of him finding pleasure in others who are not her.

She will not rise to it.

“Your chosen harlots aren’t enough?” Tav sneers. “I thought Lord Astarion Ancunín had everything he desired?”

With a scoff, Astarion replies, “You don't get it, do you?” A twinge of impatience can be heard as he says, “You helped make me what I am. We are bound to one another, until the end of time.”

Tav shudders as his hands come up to hold her face. She pulls in a sharp breath, expecting the cold sting of death from his usual chilled palms. Yet, they're completely warm as they cradle her jaw. Another reminder that he is now very much changed. Alive. His cologne assaults her senses once more and her eyes flutter closed as she settles into the strange comfort of his touch.

“My heart will never stop calling for you,” Astarion speaks softly. “No other can satisfy that hunger.” He brushes over her bottom lip with the pad of a thumb and feels her tremble below him. “You are to be my consort, my bride,” he insists, voice stern but low. “That is your role in this.”

Tav falters beneath his touch, allowing herself to be walked back to the wall next to the vanity. Her hands come up to wrap around his wrists. “Such honeyed words,” she retorts. “If I didn't know any better, I'd actually believe you.” Her back connects with the wall and she gasps.

“Tav, look at me,” Astarion demands with urgency. She doesn't comply, turning her head to the side. Slipping a hand from her cheek to grasp her chin, he forcibly turns her head back toward his. “Look at me!” he spits again.

Hesitant to look upon Astarion’s face, Tav cracks her eyes open. Opening them fully, it's not anger that she finds there. Her stomach flips. No, not anger or even disappointment. Instead, she sees… vulnerability.

“I wish I could replace you. I’ve tried,” Astarion bites out through clenched teeth. His face falls as his eyes settle on her. “Nothing can fill the void your absence has left.” He shakes his head slightly before adding, “Something within me screams for you, as if I were alone in a decrepit crypt and only you can save me.”

Her heart beats wildly in her chest. She feels as though she may suffocate, or that her heart may give out at a moment's notice. Tav begins to feel the tendrils of desire dance across her abdomen. They start low in her groin and quickly spread upward, causing a rhythmic contraction of her walls. She cannot fall for this again, she simply must not. All he's done is spout pretty words and step into her presence. And yet…

His breath pants against her face as he rests their foreheads together. The scent of freshly chewed mint whirls beneath her nose. Her vision spins.

In her stupor, Tav hardly notices Astarion's hands slipping under her nightgown. His palms rest on the backs of her thighs and he lifts a leg, allowing more room to slot himself against her core.

Tav groans as their centers meet, arching her back. Her chest presses into his and she moans, hands seeking purchase in his hair as he rocks himself into her once again.

“Astarion,” she pleads, wrapping her leg around the small of his back. A bolt of pleasure shoots up from her groin. She feels her walls clench again in desperation as his hardened cock brush against her cunt, straining against the fabric of his trousers. Her body remembers him and is all too eager to receive him once more.

Astarion knows. He recalls exactly how her body reacts almost on instinct to his touch. He pants against her lips with each roll of his hips into hers. “Come home with me, Tav,” he groans out. “Please, darling. I need you.”

His voice comes out ragged, stressed. Astarion leans against her chest, slipping his face into the nape of her neck. Inhaling deeply, a fire begins smoldering low in his belly. Her scent is of fresh mountain dew in early spring. Floral, sweet, and holding the promise of possibility. His cock twitches in anticipation.

Tav moans, loud and unfiltered. Her knees grow weak and she nearly buckles off the wall if Astarion weren't holding her up. She throws her head against the wall behind her, back arching once again.

“I mourned you,” Tav tells him, nearly breathless. “I mourned us.” She doesn't protest as Astarion lifts her other leg to join in locking around his waist. Tav doesn't fight how he grinds himself into her again, trapping her between himself and the wall. She feels faint, her vision growing fuzzy at the edges, though she manages to huff out, “You don't get to come here and make demands of me, Astarion.”

Astarion pulls his head back leisurely to meet her eyes. “You left me, remember?” he says low in his throat.

“What choice did you leave me with?” Tav exclaims in frustration. “You wanted me to sacrifice my life in order to prove my love for you. You would have never asked that of me before that accursed Rite!”

“I only wish to live out the rest of eternity together,” Astarion replies. “I promised I would protect you, that no harm would ever come to you.”

Tav stares into his face as realization registers in her mind, mouth falling slightly agape. She's gotten used to reading between the lines of his words, so often laced with duplicate meaning. True to his former life as a rogue of the night.

Her mortality is a threat to his oath.

Astarion cannot fathom going through the rest of time without her. Or, he does, and the thought is too painful for him to ever risk becoming reality. That is what he means to say, though apparently incapable in this new state.

“Isn't this what you wanted?” he asks, quietly. “To be together? Forever?”

Tears well in the creases of her eyelids and Tav sobs. “You are a fool, Astarion Ancunín,” she chides.

Astarion hovers his mouth mere millimeters above hers. “Only for you,” he says. “Always for you.” He captures her lips in a gentle embrace, breathing deeply through his nose as he pushes further into the kiss.

Tav moans into his mouth as she slackens her jaw, creating enough room for their tongues to begin exploring one another. She gasps as Astarion carries her from the wall to her bed on the far side of the room, grabbing at his shoulders for leverage.

“Tell me I may have you,” he asks, breaking the kiss as he lays her down over the mattress. He climbs over her, mouth descending upon her neck. He peppers chaste kisses along the underside of her jaw.

Tav writhes beneath him, whimpers escaping her throat as he licks and suckles on the delicate flesh of her throat. With resolve quickly waning, her hands find purchase again in silver locks as she finally says, “You may, but only for tonight.”

Astarion freezes above her. Hesitantly, he pulls himself back, looking her over as he begins shrugging off his doublet. “Are you sure?” he inquires softly.

This is the perfect opportunity to ask him to turn and leave. To not start this over again, to not return down a path in which she knows there is no favorable end. Though, Tav also cannot deny just how much she has missed him, as well.

“It's only sex, Astarion,” she tells him, sitting up to undo the ties of her nightgown. “That's all this will be.”

His hands come to rest atop hers, replacing her motions as he pulls gently at the laces of the gown. With the last tie undone her gown falls open, revealing her bare breasts to his heated gaze. Astarion sucks in a sharp breath as he meets her eyes.

“Only sex,” he ponders aloud as he furrows his brow. “But what if I want-”

“No,” Tav interjects, voice firm. “This is all I can give you. You either take this, or you have nothing.” Her breathing comes uneven as she stares back at him, chest heaving. Her nerves have come alight; she cannot fall in love with him again, but she can at least offer him this.

With a curt nod, Astarion replies, “As you wish.”

His expression is guarded as he fumbles with the laces of his trousers. He pulls his undershirt up and over his head, dropping it unceremoniously onto the floor behind the bed. Standing up, he peels off his boots, pants, and underclothes in one fell swoop. He returns to Tav on the bed as bare as the day he was born, following her eyes as they roam down the long plane of his torso. They come to rest between his thighs.

Astarion’s cock stands ready at attention, jumping in tandem with his heartbeat. Saliva pools thick on her tongue and she slips the nightgown down and off her arms. She's left naked before him, not having time to fully dress before his unexpected visit. Tav hears him groan as he looks her over.

A surprised gasp falls from her mouth as he cups her sex. She feels him drag two fingers through the arousal that has already gathered between her folds, and watches as he brings those same fingers to his mouth. A bolt of desire pulls behind her navel as she watches his slick-soaked fingers slip between his lips. He suckles around them, moaning his approval.

With a wet pop, Astarion pulls the two digits from his mouth and places them against her cunt again. They're saturated with his spittle, softly prodding at her entrance.

“A-ah!” Tav gasps as his fingers sink in. It's only two, but Gods how she's struggling to take them. They glide in and out, Astarion occasionally curling his fingers to pass along the spongy spot inside her that turns her vision white.

It's not long before he's pulling his fingers out and lining himself up along her entrance. Astarion spits into his hand, giving himself a few languid strokes. The weight of his cock slaps down heavily as he drags his length through her slickened folds once, twice, before he's finally slipping into her.

Screwing his eyes shut, Astarion lets out a guttural groan as he feels his tip pop through her tense entrance, her warmth enveloping him as he seats himself a bit further before halting. Her walls spasm wildly around his shaft; it takes every ounce of willpower he has not to sink the rest of himself down into her inviting wet heat.

Tav sighs as she finally adjusts, body relaxing around him. She hadn't necessarily forgotten that taking Astarion is no small feat, though she did forget how it feels to actually do so.

“You can move,” she tells him meekly.

He doesn't respond with words; a simple nod of his head is all Tav gets before he's leaning over her, hips slipping further and further toward the backs of her thighs. Wrapping his arms around her thighs, Astarion pulls her into him, pelvis meeting her backside. He growls, cock twitching as his tip brushes against her cervix.

Tav shudders under him as he pulls out, feeling the dragging of his length within her cunt, only for him to push back in with added force. Her body jerks upward from the power of his thrust. An audible string of whimpers falls freely from her lips as he does it again, and again, and again.

Astarion catches Tav’s hands as she tries reaching for him, pushing them back toward the bedsheets. Confused by his gesture, Tav tries again, only for Astarion to once more shove her hands off of him.

Stunned, Tav looks at his face. Sweat is beginning to gather along his brow, though he keeps perfect composure. There is no lust nor passion to his expression. He looks… removed. Distant. Aloof.

Just… having sex.

“Astarion?” Tav asks, concerned. “I can't touch you?”

He scoffs above her, grunting as he slams his hips again into hers. “Touch is a rather intimate thing,” he says, sarcasm saturating his tone. “Intimacy isn't welcome when you're just having sex.”

“Stop,” Tav demands, hands pressing against his stomach. Astarion immediately ceases his movements. “This is too cold, Astarion,” she says quietly. “This isn't us.”

Above her, Astarion sucks in a large breath. “It is when it's devoid of emotion,” he clarifies, patience wearing thin. “That's what you wanted, isn't it?” He tilts his head, craning his neck to look down upon her. “Just a quick romp?”

“I-”

Venom seeps from his pores as he quickly adds, “If you were ever curious as to how I treat my harlots, well, now you know. It's rather different from our last time, eh? I wonder why that is?” Astarion feigns an inquisitive glance, placing a finger to the side of his mouth as his lips form into a pout.

“Astarion, I-”

Tav tries desperately to interject, but is disrupted again by Astarion snapping his fingers. “Oh, I know! It's because I made love to you!” he sneers, lips curling over his fangs as he leans closer to her face. “You were never a conquest to me!” he growls. “Never one night it's best to forget.”

Astarion exhales, eyes falling closed in an effort to regain his composure. “If you insist on me treating you like a whore in a brothel, fine,” he says, “I'll do it. But know it's not done willingly.”

Tav remains silent, words failing her. Her body trembles as the full weight of his confession echoes throughout her mind. Pulling in ragged breaths, she questions, “Would you make love to me again? If I asked?”

Astarion huffs out a laugh, his expression softening. “I would raze an entire city for you,” he confirms. “You need only ask.”

A sense of despair enshrouds her as she stares into his ruby red eyes. He still loves her, Tav realizes. As much as, if not more than, the day she left him. Her head pounds; she needs to stop this from going forward. The voice in her head is begging her not to continue, to not risk reopening the wound she's spent the last six months delicately stitching back together.

Their last night together replays in her thoughts. She recalls the all-encompassing feeling of want that radiated off Astarion, that night. He carried her into a world of pleasure she never dreamed possible, all while singing praises deeply into her ear as he rocked in and out of her core. They joined as one, body and soul. Or so Tav thought, until the following morning.

Astarion looks at her now with that same compassion in eyes. He means what he says; he would destroy anyone and anything should she ask it of him. He's already destroyed himself, all in a vow to protect her.

Choking back a sob, she accepts final defeat in the battle her heart fought so desperately since he first came through her window. “Make love to me then, Astarion,” Tav tells him, pleadingly. “The way you used to.”

The flame of the single candle in the room dances in his eyes. The ghost of a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “Oh, my sweet,” he purrs, “There's nothing I'd like more,” Astarion brushes her cheek with the back of a palm. His arousal has flagged, still situated within Tav’s warmth, though it stirs back to life as he captures her lips in a hungry kiss.

Tav groans as she feels Astarion's length swell within her walls, noises swallowed by his mouth over hers. When he grows stiff enough, Astarion gives shallow thrusts between her legs. It isn't long until he's back to full virility, rolling his hips into hers in a steady rhythm.

She cries out as he breaks the kiss, one last deep thrust before he's pulling out of her. Pushing her legs back, knees almost hitting her chest, Astarion slips back into place between her thighs. Tav’s knees are being held up by his shoulders as he bends forward, sliding his cock back into her slickened cunt with ease.

Astarion groans as his cock slides down, down, down until his tip nudges the end of her tunnel. Tav gasps as he settles himself impossibly deeper, hips giving a soft push that leaves her womb pulsing. She claws at Astarion’s back when he pulls his hips up slightly, only to crash into her again.

Astarion rests his forehead against Tav’s. He drops his hips repeatedly into her center, eyes locked with hers as he does. The air pushed from her lungs from each of his thrusts passes over his face and he greedily sucks it in. Her face is flushed shades of red and pink as blood rushes through her veins, singing her desire loudly in his ears.

Nails sink into the tender scars on his back and Astarion hisses. With half open eyelids, Tav struggles to keep his gaze, pleasure threatened to overwhelm her. But when she finally does, she sees it. There, in his eyes, is him. The man she fell in love with.

Astarion's eyes are soft, round, pleading. The eyes of the man she gave herself to repeatedly all those months ago.

Each night she spent being devoured by his mouth, pulling the very essence of her body into his, she felt it - the sanctity of her oath dangling in the balance. Should she have stuck to her teachings, Astarion would’ve been staked through the heart at first discovery of his true nature. And yet, night after night, she willingly succumbed to the lustful desires that only her blood could provide him.

She moans as he angles his hips sharply on the next downstroke, the head of his cock brushing deliciously up against her spot. The rhythmic fluttering of her tunnel over his shaft pulls a throaty groan from Astarion, who quickly buries his face into the nape of her neck as the sensation wracks through his body. His arms envelop her torso, using her as leverage to increase the pace of her thrusts.

Tav feels her arousal leaking down the cleft of her ass, carved out from her with each plunge of his cock into her cunt. The tip of him rams against her spot repeatedly and she shakes in his arms, pleasure coiling tightly in her belly with not much left to hold onto. “Astarion,” she pants against his ear, mindlessly mouthing at his lobe. “Gods, Astarion…”

He groans again against her neck, skin muffling most of it. The sounds of their joint arousal fill the room, and Astarion pulls his lips back in anticipation of his impending climax. The smoldering fire in his belly has erupted into hellfire, threatening to consume all and any in its path if not quelled soon.

Fangs press into the delicate skin of her neck and Tav shivers, hands flying into his hair and grasping, pulling. “Do not bite me, Astarion,” Tav says, panicked.

Humming his disapproval, Astarion reluctantly pulls his head away from her neck. He rests his forehead against hers again. “Where do you want me, Tavaria?” The question comes quietly, unguarded. Strained.

Tavaria.

The sound of her full name on his tongue sends pulses of desire through her belly. He's close, Tav realizes. Astarion pants against her face as his thrusts grow more uneven. Moving a hand to his jaw, Tav holds his cheek, rubbing his chin with her thumb. “However you want,” comes her reply.

Astarion shudders, a moan slipping past his lips, eyes rolling to the back of his skull momentarily. He blinks back into focus, chest heaving as his breathing becomes labored. He's barely lifting hips into Tav, instead giving short stuttering thrusts that have his tip kissing her cervical os.

“Tav, please,” he begs. “Tell me.”

Silver strands of hair stick to his sweat-soaked forehead. Brushing them out of the way with a hand, she plants a kiss between his brow. “Inside,” she coos. “It's okay.”

Carnal desire flares behind Astarion's eyes. He grunts, raw and guttural as he dips his head back into the crook of her neck. He feels his cock begin to swell, a telltale sign that his release is imminent.

Tav whimpers as Astarion rams over her pleasure point again and again, the fattened head of his cock dragging along her walls. It doesn't take much longer before she's screaming out her completion below him, nails digging into the skin of his marred back.

Astarion roars out his own climax above her, balls pulling up tightly as fangs sink into the pillow next to her. He floods her channel with his seed, tiny rolls of his hips pulling groans from his chest as he rides out the wave. Tav’s walls are more than willing to massage the rest of his spend from his balls and into her greedy womb.

They lay together panting, post-coital haze in full effect. It isn't until Astarion shifts to pull out his softening member that Tav feels it - his spend dribbling from her entrance and onto the nightgown under her. He's the first to leave the bed, shaking his head while running a hand through tousled locks. Tav watches him disappear into her washroom as she slowly sits herself up onto her elbows.

The sound of water running into the tub can be heard and Astarion reappears in the doorway. He returns to the bed, Tav gasping as he scoops her up into his arms and carries her toward the washroom.

“What are you doing, Astarion?” she asks, mind still clouded by her peak. She loops her hands around his neck, lolling her head against his shoulder.

A chuckle rumbles from his chest as he kisses the top of her head. “Taking care of you,” he answers, bringing them both across the threshold of the washroom.

-------------------------------------------

Tav awakens the next morning alone, tucked snuggly in her bed. The events of the night are hazy as she slowly regains consciousness. She doesn't recall when or how she fell asleep. Peeling off the covers and giving herself a quick look over, she realizes she's dressed in her nightgown again. The ties are neatly in place, eerily similar to how she had them before.

Looking around her room, there's no evidence that Astarion had been present. The papers she swore fell to the floor are all stacked neatly on her dresser. The candle has been hushed out, and her windows closed.

Was it a dream? she ponders, heart rate rising as her confusion grows.

Her eyes scan the room frantically in an attempt to find a single piece out of place. Finally, she finds the answer she is searching for laying atop her vanity. Rising out of bed, Tav walks over to find a single rose laid across the top of the desk. He was here, Tav notes to herself, bringing the rose to her face. She inhales its sweet scent, dread filling her heart as the heavy weight of last night begins to actualize.

No, it was very real. And it’s only just beginning.

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