#rarely pure and never simple

[sabraeal]

Rarely Pure & Never Simple, Chapter 9

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Obiyukiweek 2023, Day 6: Free Day

Bright and early comes and goes with no sign of Obi.

Shirayuki nurses her morning tea at her usual place, hips braced against the sink and eyes fixed somewhere out past Nanna’s curtains. Or they would be, had any of her concentrated efforts to grow extrasensory powers in elementary school panned out the way she’d hoped; instead she’s stuck staring at ninety-percent frill, all that crocheted lace and starched lawn an impenetrable barrier to the outside, even if it only covers three-fourths of the glass. Nothing a quick bounce on her toes wouldn’t solve, but there’s no casual way to pop on tip-toe, no elegant way to stretch up over that homemade horizon that Nanna won’t immediately read as nerves.

And so she stands there with both hands wrapped around the mug, Felix the Cat tick-tick-ticking behind her. The reflection of his tail shimmers across the glass, a ghost of itself where the sun shines through. As long as she keeps her palms pressed against ceramic, it’s impossible to tell if they tremble.

But when the long hand gives one, tenuous tremble past nine o’clock, Shirayuki finally has to admit: he’s late.

“Oh, don’t wear that face,” Nanna chuckles, shuffling up to jog her elbow. And steep her own cup of tea, but that seems a secondary errand next to giving Shirayuki a hard time. “There’s no world under this sun where that boy stands you up. He’s just running a little behind, that’s all. Your father couldn’t read a clock to save his life either.”

Ah, she’d been hoping the furrow between her brow made her look serious and concerned, not…pouty. “I’m not worried about that.”

She might have been a few months ago, back when all this was new, and Obi’s interest seemed at best mystifying and at worst circumstantial. But with almost half a year under her belt, Shirayuki’s firmly aware of where she sits in the hierarchy of Obi’s personal cosmology: disturbingly close to the top, well above his own personal well-being, but somewhere just below food. Or, well, at least below Funyons.

“It’s just…what if something happened to him?” Her stomach clenches considering what sort of grim misfortune could befall him in the three miles between their houses. “You know, they say that the worst accidents happen just outside your own home. What if he—?”

Nanna clucks fondly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “He’s a growing boy, honey. The only thing that’s gone and happened to him is hitting the snooze button too many times.”

“No one presses buttons anymore, Nanny,” Shirayuki sniffs, taking a long sip from her mug. “Everyone’s got phones now, and there’s apps where you can even—”

There’s no time to inform Nanna of sleep rhythm tracking or blue light-induced wakefulness; no, she can’t even express that there’s different alarm sounds before reality frustratingly, inevitably resolves to favor her grandmother.

An ill-tempered groan is all the warning Shirayuki has before Obi’s jeep heaves to a stop at the curb. With a few more metallic grunts, it spits him out on the front walk, whole and intact, at least from where she stands. There’s a chance he might have a scratch or two beneath the thin fabric of his vintage tee, or maybe a skinned knee where the flames at the bottom of his trunks cast a shadow, but well— she probably shouldn’t hope that her boyfriend’s hurt himself, even if Nanny’s going to be unlivable over it.

“Well, would you look at that.” Grandad rests his arm right across the top of her head, squinting right over the curtain. “Positively occult, that’s what I say.”

“Oh, come on,” Nanna huffs, giving her tea a showy little stir. “That’s hardly anything at all. You should see what I can get up to when there’s a baby involved.”

“Not any time soon, I hope,” Grandad snorts, using his arm to tip her head back and remind her, “Don’t get any ideas there, pumpkin.”

Her tea hasn’t cooled a jot, but with one hand clapped to both, her cheeks are still the hottest thing in this kitchen. “Pa!”

It’s no use, Grandad’s already strutted right across to the front door, look all satisfied with himself for a joke well-executed. His hand settles on the knob for a long moment, tentative, like he’s waiting, and then with one swift turn, opens it with a flourish.

“Ah.” Obi’s hand drops from where he’s raised it, hooking it right around to scrub at the back of his head. “Good morning, sir.”

“Good morning, young man.” Shirayuki rarely pities her father, but seeing Grandad turn that grin on Obi, she understand why he might have elected for windows as the main source of entry to this house. “Are you here to pick up some precious cargo?”

“I think cargo would be better behaved.” Obi’s head cranes around the corner, gaze sweeping the kitchen it can reach. “Is Shirayuki here?”

“And waiting!” Nanna’s wrinkled hand presses against her back, guiding her right to the door, tea mug and all. “You two have a good time now. Do you need me to put that in a cup for you, honey, or—?”

“I-I can leave it.” It squeaks out of her, nervous, and ah, last night had seemed like such a good idea at the time, but now when she looks at him—

God. Even now the scrape of his voice leaves tingles racing beneath the frail barrier of her skin, like static electricity waiting to be unleashed on the nearest metallic surface. I would have come for you anytime.

Shirayuki’s cheeks are already flushed, but she could swear the next flood of heat could sear them from the inside out, like a sunburn in reverse.

“Not too good a time,” Grandad tells them, a little arch, but she can see how a smile clings to the corner of his mouth, more teasing than warning. “Don’t need to hear about any trouble after the fact.”

Nanna swats his shoulder. “Oh, really! There’s going to be a hundred kids at this thing at least. How would they even manage to get up to anything in a crowd like that?”

“You must be getting old, Nan.” Grandad hangs from the door just like Shirayuki’s seen boys lean against lockers, giving her a cheeky grin and a wink. “Can’t remember the sort of things we used to get up to when we were eighteen.”

“Oh, hush!” Pink dapples her wrinkled cheeks, and she shakes her head. “All right, off with you two. I don’t need you getting any ideas from this old lecher.”

Grandad only smiles wider as they shuffle past him to the stoop. “I don’t think they’ll need any of my help with that, dear.”

The last thing she heard before the door shuts is Nanna’s huff, that sharp cluck of her tongue before she issues a warning, “Now, Dad…”

And just like that, the sound muffles, leaving only murmurs of her grandmother’s discontent— and the high points of Grandad’s laughter. It’s not long until she hears Nanna’s too, breathless and consternated, the last bastion against his charm. Shirayuki ducks her chin down, burying her smile in her shoulder. Nanna won’t hold out long.

“Man,” Obi sighs, a laugh bubbling under his words. “They’re exhausting.”

“Tell me about it,” she agrees, tucking a chunk of hair behind her ear. It’s only just long enough for a ponytail, and the front pieces keep trying to make a bid for freedom. “I think my heart stops every time they say we might be…”

Having sex. She can’t make herself say it. Can’t even make herself look at him, not when just last night she’d taken that picture he’s sent her and— and—

Please. It’s strange how vividly she remembers the words when she hadn’t ever spoken them out loud. All of it happened strictly in the confines of her own head. I want you. I want you inside—

Fingers slide between hers, gently squeezing as their palms come to kiss. “Hey,” he murmurs, his other hand reaching up to rub at his shoulder. “We’ll do whatever you want when you’re ready for it. I don’t care about what anybody thinks but you.”

It should be easy to tell him that it’s not about other people, and it’s certainly not about what popular opinion has them do behind closed doors, but— but about her. About what she had managed to imagine last night, all on her own, with only his chest and the hint of his erection to spur her on. About what she might be ready for if there was some way to— if only she could—

But she can’t. Not when she can’t even decide what it all means in terms of, er, readiness. So instead she just squeezes back. “I know.”

She dares a glance up at him then, taking in the faint circles around his eyes, the way his hair sticks up wildly from every direction. He must have just rolled out of bed and straight into his car.

“Sorry.” He scuffs his boot shyly on the stoop before hopping down, using their tangled hands to guide her after him. “I, uh…overslept.”

Shirayuki blinks at him, concerned. “Did you forget to set an alarm? I thought that you usually—?”

“Yeah, well, kinda slipped my mind,” Obi mutters wryly, stare pointed even from just the corners of his eyes. “I kinda had a big mess to clean up right before I hit the hay.”

“Oh.” Her cheeks prickle with heat, matching the tingle up her neck, and it’s a good thing he has his back to her to open her door. She doesn’t think she would survive if he could see her too. “That, um…makes sense.”

“And let me tell you, it was an even bigger one this morning,” he continues, so casual as she slips into the seat. “After I woke up to this.”

She glances up right into his phone’s screen, open to their messages. And there it is, in gray and white, I’m stuck

“O-oh,” she breathes, whole face so hot she’s sure it’ll crack to show magma beneath. “I, ah, forgot I sent that. I didn’t think you’d…”

See it, she doesn’t say. Because of course he would; even if he wasn’t awake to get it hot off the presses, Obi would never ignore her texts. And from the way he bends down, one hand braced on the back of her seat and the other on the dash, he’s not in any mood to forget it either.

“Too bad I missed it. I would have loved to help you.” He leans close enough her eyes cross to keep him in focus. “Only would’ve been fair after you gave it to me to so good last night.”

Ah, if he keeps that up, she might just erupt, the way kids in elementary school used to tease her. You got lava for hair, they’d always say, which suited her just fine. That’s how they drew Madame Pele in the books after all, and if it was good enough for her, then—

Obi’s gaze drops down to her lips, and, oh, well, that’s enough for her higher cognitive thoughts. “Did you…?” She licks her lips, nervous. “…Um, like that?”

“Kid,” he breathes, and that’s as much warning as she had before his mouth presses against hers, capturing her bottom lip between both of his. His tongue traces the shape of it, a gentle tease, a promise. Her fingers scrabble against the center console, trying to gain some purchase before she leans in, scraping them over his scalp.

“Jesus.” He pulls back, flushed. “Just…one second. Okay?”

She has enough presence of mind to whimper out, “Uh-huh.”

Obi jerks upright then, spine stiff and limbs loose like a marionette with a poor puppeteer, the tension of his strings all tangled. He shuts her door— gallant, like always; a gentleman, Nanna would hum, too pleased— but when he crosses in front of the grille to make for his, there’s none of his usual swagger. No flirtatious winks, no cat-like prowl that makes her flush, remembering the way those muscles feel like between her thighs. No, now there’s only a sense of urgency, a scramble to throw himself gracelessly into the driver’s seat.

He coaxes the car to a cough, its frame shuddering beneath her feet, still so stiff, not even daring to look at her.

“If you were a cat I’d take you to the vet,” she says, mild. “But I think they’d just tell me you had gas.”

That gets him to blink, to swing his head toward her. “What did you just say?”

“I was just wondering if something was wrong. I mean, if you were…” She hesitates, scrolling through her mental thesaurus until she settles on, “Upset? About something?”

“Upset?” It’s not a question, but a giggle, one that doesn’t so much bubble up as purr out of his throat, and ah, that probably shouldn’t make her toes curl or stomach drop, but here she is. “Kid, I…”

It’s with a sinuous shift that he leans over the gap between them, one hand cupping her jaw and coaxing her up to him. She doesn’t need much convincing; the second his fingers brush over the soft skin behind her ear she’s already reaching up, tongue darting across the space between them. He gasps against her; she drinks it down greedily, and the groan that follows, until he—

He pulls away. Again.

This time it’s not far, just enough to rest his forehead against hers, breath scattering enticingly over her lips.

“Last night,” he hums, breathless. “That was really good for me. So good. Distractingly good. All I’ve been thinking about this morning is how I wouldn’t mind if we” —he hisses, pained, and squirms back, hands gripping ten and two— “Ah, nope, never mind. That’s…we’ll talk about this later.”

Shirayuki blinks, head too clouded to keep herself from blurting out, “Am I in trouble?”

It’s no giggle when he laughs this time, throwing the car into drive. No, that one comes from a deeper place, one that thrums at the same pitch as something just beneath her skin, turning the space beneath her belly molten.

“Yes.” The gaze he turns on her is scorching, enough that every inch of her feels burned. “A lot of trouble. But…” He clears his throat, dragging his attention back out the windshield. “That conversation is going to have to wait.”

Her mouth is so incredibly dry. “Why?”

He snorts, like it’s funny, but she sees his grip shift on the wheel. “Because I can’t drive this car and make you come at the same time.”

“O-oh.” Her thighs clench tight, but that’s not help at all, not when he’s right here. “We could pull over…?”

“Kid. As tempting as that sounds…” The look he slides her makes her skin feel two sizes too tight. “We’re already gonna be late as it is. And the last thing we need is someone speculating what we needed the extra half hour for.”

It’s a reasonable reservation; the kind she should be concerning her with. The kind she would have been, if her body hasn’t suddenly informed her it’s been over two weeks since he’s touched her, a whole sixteen days since he last put his fingers insider her, and— “I don’t think anyone would notice if we��re only a little late.”

His narrow brows pitch toward his hairline. “That so?”

“I mean, we’ve been together for a while now,” she reminds him, voice only quivering with the barest tremble. “We’re old news. I’m sure that, er…”

“A certain friend of your will have an extremely detailed estimate of just what we could have accomplished left to our own devices?” he offers, a grin tugging at his lips. “One that, might I add, assumes quite a a few very complimentary things about my stamina.”

Shirayuki deflates, defeated. “Does that…bother you?”

“That Kihal thinks I could make you taste colors? Are you kidding me? I knew I always liked her for a reason. It’s just…” His grin doesn’t exactly fade, but the mischief leeches from it, leaving it a pale shadow of what it once was. “As happy as everyone is for us, I know some people…maybe didn’t think it would fall out this way. And I don’t want to…to feel like I’m rubbing it in.”

Zen, he means. Who had thought— who everyone had thought would, ah…

“All right.” She reaches over, squeezing his knee. He jumps, ticklish where she presses in. “Let’s behave, then.”

“Fine,” he sighs. “Can’t believe I argued for this.”

“It’s because you’re a good person,” she tells him. “A good friend.”

“No, he’s the good friend,” he mutters, pulling off onto the main road. “I’m just trying to deserve it.”

*

“Well, well, well.” Kihal slinks up jeep-side, taking the cooler Obi hands her from the back. “What’s this? Twenty minutes late and looking refreshed? Wonder what you two were up to.”

“Refreshed?” Shirayuki pants as she swings her beach bag over her shoulder, sweat dripping down her back like a popsicle left in the sun. Obi may not be old enough to drink, but by the title in the glove box, the jeep was. A pity that cars tended to age in dog years. It would have been nice to have the AC on a day so muggy not even the windows couldn’t cut the heat. “That’s a…bit of a generous read.”

“What did I tell you? Complimentary.” Obi snorts softly, shutting the hatchback. “Nice to know the girl thinks I could fuck comfortably on a Slip N Slide.”

Ah, now there’s a picture. “Could you? I mean, in theory.”

His eyebrows waggle in a more certain ‘no’ than any he could put into words. “Wanna find out?”

It’s the sort of tease that should have made her stammer and flush, pressure like a hand on her neck no matter how obvious he made the joke— or it would have, only a month or so back. But now she meets his mirrored lenses and just shakes her head, stifling a giggle. Her hair doesn’t budge from where it’s plastered to her neck and shoulders. “Nope.”

“Aw, kid,” he sighs, slinging an arm around her shoulder as they step under the trees. “Where’s the sense of adventure?”

It’s a short walk to where the seniors— former seniors; or if she really thinks about it, upcoming college freshman— have made camp on the shore, coolers and camp chairs taking up the small stretch of sand where the pine cover relents. It’s packed; if there’s not all two hundred plus of their graduating class here, then it’s close, most of them spread out on towels or splashing in the shallows

“Fyi, stay away from those coolers.” Kihal points toward four hard plastic coolers the size of a car trunk, cozened up under two extra-wide beach umbrellas. “Student Council’s covering drinks— at least as long as they last in this heat— but those aren’t ours.”

“Oh yeah?” Obi’s narrow eyebrows hike over his frames. “Who’s catering?”

Her mouth curls into a sneer. “Beer Barons.”

“Beer Barons?” There’s only a few restaurants in town, but Shirayuki’s pretty sure she’s never heard of that one. “Who’s that?”

Kihal huffs, arms crossing right over the band of her bikini top. “Oh, you know, the idiots who have been stealing from their parents’ mini bars and think that makes them master thieves?”

“What?” She stares at the coolers, nearly as large as the one in the pub’s basement. “That’s all alcohol?”

“Kid.” Obi’s mouth twitches. “Did you not know about this shit? It’s all anyone could talk about for months. This must be their big finale.”

“Their parents have got to know, right?” Kihal cocks a hip, skeptical. “I mean this is too much booze to be a coincidence.”

He snorts. “Oh, they’ve known the whole time. You think all those surgeons and stock brokers couldn’t put together why their mini fridges haven’t been stocked since October?”

“Mm. Good point.” She shakes her head. “Rich kids.”

“Pot,” Obi hums, mouth curling into a smile. “Kettle. Black.”

“Hey.” Kihal whips out a finger, prodding it into his chest. “I’m comfortably upper middle class.”

“I…” Shirayuki’s mouth works, but there’s nothing to say, not when she can’t recall a single thing about it. She’d been more concerned with passing in projects and sitting in on rehearsals and the brief moments Zen would scrounge up to talk to her; it’d been easy for everything else to just blur away like some aesthetic backdrop on a Christmas card. And then she’d slipped into Obi’s car and asked for kissing lessons, and well—

Well, sometimes it felt like her whole world could be just the two of them, if she let it. Less so now that he’s going to Lyrias— no need to try to fit a whole relationship into six months when they have another four years to fly or flounder— but it’s hard not just reduce her attention down to just those moments that are him and her and the way he can make her feel.

“People have been stealing alcohol?” she squeaks out, finally, weathering the wide-eyed stares Obi and Kihal turn on her. “From their own parents?”

Kihal’s quiet for a moment before she snorts, shaking her head. “You really do live in your own world sometimes.”

*

“So…” Shirayuki sits back on her heels, surveying the rumpled edge of her beach blanket. A few more tugs and it might lay flat, but she can’t muster up the gumption when getting it this far has sweat pouring down her spine, drenching the back of her cover up. “Is there anything besides alcohol to drink?”

“Uh, yeah, duh,” Kihal chuckles, spreading her legs out in front of her. “Student Council brought a bunch of soda and some Capri Suns. Should be right over there.” Her chin swings over to where there’s a couple of chest coolers— larger than what the Beer Barons have dragged out, but not nearly as nice— sweating in the sand. “But if that doesn’t move you, your jolly giant friend brought water or whatever. That’s in the bag over there, the soft one— yeah.”

Shirayuki flips open the lid, and there it is— probably twenty or so bottles fit so snugly together the ice has no place to go but on top, scattered in the small crevices between them. Heavenly, in this heat.

“Speaking of tall drinks of water,” Kihal hums from behind her, head propped up on her towel. “How’s yours?”

She blinks down at the Aquafina in her hand. “I…haven’t opened it?”

“Shirayuki, I don’t mean” —a hand flies up to Kihal’s forehead, accompanied by a groan— “I mean Obi. Your boyfriend! The guy with the great ass!”

That gets her to jerk up, scanning the crowd until she finds him crouched over a cooler. One of the alcoholic ones, she realizes, his grin wide as Mitsuhide warms up to the lecture he’s launched into, and well— she hadn’t noticed before, but now that he’s bent down, shirt shucked and swim trunks draw tight over his, ah, backside, it’s clear that they don’t leave much to the imagination. It doesn’t help that for all the stylized flames licking up from the bottom, the top is just a grayer shade of tan, and with it pulled so taut against him…

Well, even though she hasn’t seen him without his pants, she can take a pretty good guess at what he might look like under them now. Skin tone and all.

“So tell me.” Kihal rolls to her side with a smirk. “Is he proportional, or…?”

“Proportional?” She stares down at her, confused. “I haven’t measured, but it looks like his legs might be longer than his wing—?”

“Shirayuki,” she groans. “I mean, his dick.”

Her jaw drops, so dry not even a sip of water soothes it. “I don’t— I wouldn’t know! It’s only been a few months, we haven’t even…”

Seen each other naked. That’s what she means to say, except it gets stuck in her teeth, refusing to budge. Because Obi has, hasn’t he? Between taking off her shirt and getting her off with his mouth, her nakedness is a technicality. But she—

“Really?” Kihal stares at her over the rim of her sunglasses. “I know you said at graduation that you hadn’t done anything but…seriously? He walks around looking like god’s gift to women and you still haven’t torn off the paper?”

—She hasn’t returned the favor. Every glimpse of new skin from him makes her temperature rise ten degrees, and yet here she is, with some…dickphobia convincing her she won’t like the rest. It’s silly, she knows it is, but…

But it’s impossible to explain to someone like Kihal. To someone who knows how to want things.

“I’ve wrinkled the edges a little bit,” she admits slowly, twisting the bottle in her hands. “But I’m, um…savoring it, I guess.”

Kihal huffs, but it’s not judgmental, like she expects. Instead it’s playful, accompanied by a roll of her eyes and a grin. “I should have known. You let your ice cream melt before you eat all of it too.”

“Well, but that’s better warmer!” she protests, crawling back onto the blanket. “Isn’t it?”

“It really isn’t.” Kihal gives her a fond smile before she sighs, “Fine, take your time with him. But you better report back when you have answers. We’re best friends, you can’t hold out on me.”

“I will.” Even if they might be thirty when she does. “I mean, within reason.”

“No, no reason! I want to know every freckle or whatever. I should be able to picture his dick fully formed in my mind, no—”

“If you’re so desperate to know about proportions,” Kiki drawls, dropping down beside them. “Then you should know, Mitsuhide is.”

“God,” Kihal sighs. “I knew it.”

*

There’s a point— later in the day, of course, when some of her fellow former seniors have finally stated to filter out and the crowd thins— where it all becomes a little much. Where the sun and the heat and the nostalgia starts to tire her out, making her feel faded, like she’s bleached at the edges, frayed. This may have been her first year at Wisteria High, but she’s lived in this town her whole life, walked these woods more times than she can count. She even has pictures of herself standing in front of this very lake, baby fat still clinging hard to her cheeks.

The water laps around her legs, sun sinking from afternoon to evening, and all at once, she knows: it will never be like this again. That some of these people will say their goodbyes, and they’ll be gone from her life, forever. There will be high school reunions and chance meetings at the grocery store and social media posts, but—

But this is it. The end of an era. And here’s her, sitting at the end of the dock, tenaciously trying to cling to the last of it. Lingering like if she saves a few sips at the bottle of the bottom, her childhood will never truly be over.

At least, that’s what it feels like before something tan and lean surges up out of the pond, cold water splashing all over the tender skin of her thighs.

“Hey, Kid,” it says, tossing back wet hair with a predator’s smile. “Carrying something heavy there?”

She’d love to wrinkle up her nose at him, to give him a good, honest frown the way she used to when her wayward ASM would get up to no good, but for as much as there’s chaos in that grin, there’s concern too.

“Do you remember when we last came out here?” she murmurs, looking out across the water. “You dared me to skinny dip.”

Most of Obi’s submerged, his arms folded across the dock like a bowline around a cleat, but what she can see— every bit of it goes tense. “Yeah,” he rasps out, turning his head out toward the water. “Kinda…hard to forget.”

She blinks down, practically boring a hole through the whirl of his cowlick. “Really? You were…? Even then?”

“Why d’you think I was so eager to go in after you?” he grumbles, shoulders oddly flushed. “I kinda…listen, I didn’t really get what was going on with me when it came to you, but when you shimmied out of that skirt of yours—”

“You said you weren’t going to look!”

“I wasn’t looking! I was peeking.” Obi does a little bit of that now too, though his eyes skitter away before she can catch them. “It’s different. Anyway, I figured it out real fast. Too fast! Thought that freezing ass pond water would help. Which it did. Mostly.”

Her eyebrows raise. “Mostly?”

“Well, I might have caught a nipple too. You bobbed up a little when you splashed me, and uh…” He casts her a guilty look, though not an ounce of it seems sorry. “Well, it helped with things later. On my own. More than a couple times.”

There’s a prickle of heat between her thighs, enough that she has to clench to keep her head from spinning. “So you…? To me…? Then?”

“Ah, we don’t have to talk about me.” He lets his mouth hook into a smirk. “I think we should talk about you. And how you got stuck last night.”

“Oh!” That had been a conversation she’d meant to have on the ride here, a small victory she thought he’d be happy to celebrate, but now that his cheek rubs against the outside of her thigh, casual like he’s just wiping off a drip of water from his eyes, well— “You don’t need to, um…worry about that.”

“Hm?” His lips linger against the smooth flesh of her hip. “But I have been. All afternoon. Haven’t been able to” —her breath catches as one of his hands drops, tracing over her ankle— “stop thinking about it.”

A sigh trembles out of her, thin and helpless as his thumb smooths over the skin there, so sensitive she almost squirms. “You didn’t…have to…”

“Of course I do,” he hums, playfully taking the edge of her suit between his teeth. “It’s my job to make sure that you don’t get—”

“It’s fine,” she blurts out, hardly able to hear herself over the blood rushing through her ears. “I handled it.”

His jaw goes slack, her suit snapping back against her skin. “Come again?”

“I, um…” She swallows, ever part of her tingling under the intensity of his stare. “I got stuck, but then I, ah…got myself unstuck?”

“On your own?” he asks, strangely distant.

“Ah…” She nods, hoping he can’t see the way her hands tremble in her lap. “Y-yeah.”

A grin breaks out across his face, as bright as the dawn itself. “You wanna show me?”

Shirayuki stares. “What? Now? But there’s people—”

“We can solve that.” His hands wrap around her waist; her only warning before he drags her down, pond water splashing up around her shoulders before she can think to swim.

“Obi,” she yelps, hands scrabbling for his shoulders. She manages to hook one on her own, but he guides her to the other, pulling her close enough that her feet can rest right on his thighs. The muscles tense beneath her toes, hard as the pylons that serve as the dock’s mooring, and haah, well, the water’s a little warmer now that she’s got that in her head.

“See?” he hums, one hand gripping the dock to steady them. “Nice and private.”

She’d like to argue, but there’s no line of sight to the shore from this side of the dock; she’d have to bob up to even see the other one, positioned right across the lake, and well—

“We shouldn’t,” she gasps, fingers clutching tight enough her nails leave little crescent on his shoulders. “Not…not right here. Anyone could just…just swim over…”

The arm around her tightens, and Obi’s grin smooths to something more serious. “You don’t have to, kid. If this doesn’t feel good, then I’ll tease but not touch.”

Her toes curl against the flex of his thighs, and, ah, each lap of the water makes her aware of how close he is, of how much she would like to be touched. “I…um…”

“But…” He leans in close, his grin so wicked her heart skips a beat. “I think you’re into it.”

“O-obi!” It’s hard to hold the moral high ground when she’s so flushed it’s a surprise water doesn’t boil when it touches her. “That’s not…I’m not…um…”

“We’re not going to get caught.” It’s a promise when he says it, a certainty. “But…it still feels a little wrong, doesn’t it? That we could get caught. That someone else could see me touching you, and they’d know how good you get it, how good I can make you feel.”

She hadn’t thought it was possible to tremble like this and be so hot, for her to be fully submerged and yet know that she’s wet.

“Come here.” He parts her legs, wrapping them around his waist, leaving her wide open to him and yet still hidden from view. “Now no one can even tell, even if they do look this way.”

“Obi…” It’s not a no. God, it’s not even a yes; it’s a please.

His grip tightens around the dock. “Show me what you were doing last night. I want to see it.”

His free fingers drop between them, pulling aside the strip of nylon blend that covers her, and haah, the caress of the water against her folds has her hand diving between them before he can ask again.

“Jesus.” Black eclipses gold until only a thin rim of it remains, trembling the way his arm does as he holds them steady. “Kid…”

The pond’s hardly clear enough for him to see the way she drags her fingers over herself, so slick and ready that she tumbles into his hand more often than she manages to brush her clit, but it’s— it’s working, a few strokes bringing her close enough to that painful edge that she whines, head thumping back against the dock.

“Fuck, wait,” he gasps, mouth slack. “Tell me…tell me what you were thinking about. Last night.”

“Obi.” How can he expect her to talk when every bit of her longs to be consumed, when all she can think about is that she’s empty, and she could— he could— “You.”

“Good.” His grin is insufferable, but there’s something about it that makes her gasp, that makes her think about him laying next to her, just watching as he— “What about me?”

“Your picture.” She should be embarrassed, mortified that she’s even admitting to getting off just by looking at him, but it’s hard to remember when he’s so warm under her hand, when he’s looking at her like he can’t decide whether to kiss her or devour her whole. “It was— you were— hard. I wanted…”

A lot more than she’s ready for, she knows that even now. “I wanted it to be you,” she manages instead. “Touching me. In my bed. I thought about good your fingers are, and I—”

She nearly comes right there from the way he groans, forehead resting against her shoulder. “You like that? Me touching you?”

“Yes. And I thought about how I could— how I might—” She whimpers, frustrated, chasing that elusive high round and round, but finding no relief. “Obi, I need— more, please—”

“Fuck. Yeah, okay I” —he laughs, the sound muffled in her shoulder— “I got you.”

Two fingers thrust between her lips, but he doesn’t bat away her hand, like she expects. Doesn’t take over. No, after that first thrust he slows, following the rhythm of her slower strokes, fingers pumping into her with a languidness that has her whining against his throat.

“Tell me,” he murmurs, so low her skin shivers. “What were you think you could do?”

“I”—she’s so close it hurts, her voice barely eking above a whisper— “I want to touch you.”

It’s not the pace of his thrusts or the teasing of her fingers that pushes her over, oh no— it’s his face, the way his mouth goes slack and he flushes straight down to his shoulders, every bit of him vulnerable, every bit of him wanting. A whine escapes her, threatening a keen, but he swallows it as she trembles, pulling her closer even as his fingers never still, pulling each last thread of pleasure out of her.

When she’s done, they’re adrift. Or, well, at least no longer hanging off the dock.

“Well,” Obi chuckles lowly, letting her tortured swim suit snap back into place. “You didn’t do that alone, but I think an assist counts.”

A laugh bubbles out of her as she presses her head into his neck, self-conscious. “It’s just…better when you touch me.”

“Haah.” They’ve floated shallow enough that he can stand, and he does, nearly dropping her straight back into the water. “I’m glad to hear it, but uh…” He squirms, trying to unwrap her from his waist. “I think I got to, er…”

She blinks up at him, only clinging closer. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing! Nothing. That’s was…” His mouth curves, utterly satisfied. “That was great. I just…have something I should go take care of.”

“What do you—?” Something twitches against her, and ah, it’s an answer. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” His flush has faded to pink, but it’s still there, lingering. “And unlike you, it’s, ah, a little more obvious when I handle myself. So I thought I might…”

His head jerks toward the wooded part of the shoreline, lingering just a few elementary backstrokes away.

“Oh, you mean…?” It’s far enough from the beach that she doubts anyone else would be wandering through, but still, she frowns. “In there…?”

“Yeah.” He disentangles himself from her limbs, setting her down gently. “I’ll only be a minute.”

He draws himself up, water coming just under his hips, and ah, it’s not just his butt that those trunks don’t leave to the imagination now.

“Wait.” She catches his hand. “Obi…”

“Really, kid.” His eyebrows raise, emphatic. “It’s not gonna be long. You, ah…did a good job out ther.”

“No, it’s just…” She licks her lips. “Can I…come?”

He blinks at her, eyes so wide she’s sure they’ll fall out of their sockets. “I thought you just did.”

“I mean…” She stands up too, only up to her waist here, shivering when the wind blows over her. “I’d like to see you come again. Maybe even…help?”

His breath catches. “Ah, yeah.” His fingers squeeze tight around hers. “Yeah, I think that would be, uh…fine with me.”

#obiyukiweek23 #obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #lemon #my fic #rarely pure and never simple #high school au #ans #for those who read the Zen/Kihal B-side I wrote many MANY moons ago #and wondered just what obi and shirayuki were getting up to behind the dock #NOW YOU HAVE YOUR ANSWER #i think there's gonna be one more chapter of senior day #and then it's gonna be off to college with these kiddos #😥they grow up so fast

[calaisreno]

Prompt for May 30: Truth

@lisbeth-kk @elwinglyre @meetinginsamarra @raina-at @prettyrealisticjohnlockfanart @bertytravelsfar @momma2boys @jrow @helloliriels @the-reading-lemon @totallysilvergirl @gregorovitchworld @gaylilsherlock @catlock-holmes @peanitbear

#bbc sherlock #may 2023 prompts #truth #rarely pure and never simple

[pippapassed]

The Virtue of Scandal

Richard Redgrave The Governess oil painting, 1844. Detail.  Victoria and Albert Museum, London “You’re a governess?” To save her younger brother from poverty and her country from invasion, Simone must sound like anything but an English governess. The audiobook version of Barbara Metzger’s Regency Romance THE SCANDALOUS LIFE OF A TRUE LADY is now available on Audible UK, Audible US, Amazon and…

View On WordPress

#acting process #Audible #audiobooks #Barbara Metzger #cat #cats #comedy #Fantasy #feminism in Regency Romance #fiction #governesses #narration #Oscar Wilde #Regency Romance #Richard Redgrave #Romance #Romantic Comedy #The Scandalous Life of a True Lady #The truth is rarely pure and never simple #truth-telling #Voice #working women

[suth-sardian]

V-Day!

#stone dance of the chameleon #sdc #in order of appearance: #miroko eosphorite #irika heliodor #suth helian #The Grand Alliance 🫂 #i’ve developed a bad habit of calling relationships couples 😭 even though there’s three of them in my mind i say TGA couple #but i love TGA couple 🫂 #i think… well… the trajectory of them getting together is really interesting to consider #i do think casual relationships would be pretty common in Osrakum but greater configs would be rare #for the simple fact that most Chosen… don’t have that much love to give #TGA as we know would be childhood friends—though they’d all be so different #i don’t think Chosen society would have extremely rigid lines between friendship and romantic/sexual rels #that’s not to say that there wouldn’t be ‘pure’ friendships or relationships—but experimenting and going from one to the other #wouldn’t be a big deal—casual relationships and amicable breakups would be norm #so when it comes to TGA i think they’d be pretty tangled up in each other from young ages #Eosphorite esp iirc would be someone who loved the chase and would have a long long string of lovers #but i think the only people he never really tired of would be his closest ones—HH #because they would be the only ones who really brought him peace of mind #i think there would probably be a scary phase where they wondered what would become of them—who would choose whom #it would be Heliodor—their peacemaker—who would suggest that they didn’t have to choose #they could just be themselves #and they’d—just fit

[pearlcigs]

⋆ make a woman out of me

christian!virgin!reader x ellie williams

summary ⋆ you swore to yourself you only longed for ellie in a platonic way, but as you get older you seem to realize just how pretty she really is.

warnings ⋆ 2.95k ⋆ smut, i might get cancelled 🤷‍♀️, reader (non penetrative) virginity loss, religious themes, ellie is 19, reader is 18, pastor's daughter!reader, mentions of homophobia, alludes to reader's parents being homophobic, ellie smokes weed, pet names (pretty girl, babe, honey, baby, good girl), cursing, first kiss, corruption, corruption kink, oral (r recieving)

time moved slowly within the parameters of jackson. the same familiar faces, day in and day out. though, it was comforting living in such a community. the horrors of the world beyond the walls that stood tall was something you rarely wanted to think about. it made you sick to your stomach to think of your friends, loved ones, even people you weren't particularly close with, outside of the safe walls, being face to face with whatever monsters marred the unhabitual world.

your parents were strict with religion, your father being the only self acclaimed paster that jackson has ever had to offer. there was never a time you could remember, even before finding refuge in the cozy town, where your parents weren't devout. vivid memories of your mother's fingers gliding over the cross necklace she wore around her neck when you would get in trouble. disappointed sighs and signs of the cross, begging the lord above for forgiveness, explaining to the sky you were too young to know what you've done was a sin.

the bible was followed closely in your home, and you obliged without caution. you prayed, attended your father's mass sessions in the tiny chapel just down the road where he preached the bible, wore the holy cross around your neck to show your devotion, you've read the old torn and withered bible you were so lucky to find front to back. religion was all you've ever known and you had found no reason to ever question the man who hung on your wooden walls, hanging from a cross with his hands and feed nailed to it like an animal. that was, until ellie.

"come on, don't you wanna jus' see what it feels like?" ellie teased, waving the joint in front of your face like a taunt. "no thank you." you replied, sitting at the foot of her bed, legs crossed, eyes wandering around her room. when ellie first came to jackson you were infatuated with her, dwindling it down to pure want but only of friendship. "good girl, that's what you say when someone offers you this shit." ellie moves the weed away from your face, inhaling it and then turning away to exhale the smoke away from you.

it started with just friendly smiles, offering to show her around and help her get to know everyone. she was wary of you. honestly, afraid of your friendly demeanor. people on the outside of the jackson walls were cruel and vicious, she thought, with no doubt in her mind, you were being friendly to lure her into some kind of trap. she danced around you with caution, keeping her distance but also decidingly giving you a chance. she quickly became fond of you, your personality, your looks. everything about you appealed to ellie and something about that made you proud, even more eager to befriend her.

the words 'good girl' ring from her mouth and you're not sure how to respond. was there even a proper response to your best friend calling you that? a simple nod was all you could come up with. watching her lips intently as she blew the smoke out of her lungs. your fingers came up to your neck, fiddling with the cross necklace around your neck, a habit passed down from your mother. ellie never paid much attention to your shy outlook on life. you were reserved and a part of her liked that she had so much of you to herself.

it wasn't until you were 17 that you finally came to terms with the fact that your infatuation was more than just a yearning to be her friend. tears of guilt streaming down your face in the confessional at the shoddy chapel, divider between you and the young volunteer who was ready to beg jesus to abolish your sins. "i'm a girl... and i like another girl." you sniffled, lowering the pitch of your voice instinctively so he wouldn't see past your anonymity. ache in your heart when silence was returned, until soft mutterings of a prayer, asking jesus to forgive your tainted heart.

ellie extended her arms behind her head, a small stretch that gave you big feelings. her shirt rode up, exposing the small of her stomach. you swallowed harshly, wondering why god would tempt you with something like this. a soft sigh emits from ellie's lips, flicking the almost finished joint into a nearby makeshift ashtray. another soft sigh falling from her perfect lips. intent eyes trying to be secretive of the no less then unholy thoughts that you were being tempted with.

ellie was put off at first by your fervent religion. her experiences were tainted, never having a good visual of what a healthy relationship with god looked like. she was unsure if you were going to try and convert her into some pious worshipper. you weren't secretive of your religion and that much was enough to make ellie suspicious. with time she realized you were different from the other religious people she's met. only bringing up your religion or anything to do with it when you were directly asked or if it was really important to speak about.

"whatchu lookin' at, pretty girl?" she chuckled as she noticed the way your eyes locked onto her, like if you looked away she'd be gone. it wasn't unusual for ellie to be flirty or to make casual remarks about how pretty you were. still, every time she did your cheeks were adorned in a rosy color. "just you, i guess. i dunno..." you answered back quickly, hoping that answer was enough to satisfy her eager curiosity. "yeah? just me? got something you wanna say to me?" she was just joking around, trying to get you riled up and flustered but you did have things you wanted to say to her.

"no." you answered, though you were sure she wasn't expecting an actual response. "no? yikes, babe, i'm hurt, thought we had somethin' real here." she smiled and you felt the butterflies in your stomach become tongue tied. one thing you loved about ellie above all things was her smile, how the skin around her eyes scrunched up just the tiniest bit, the apples of her cheeks becoming more prominent. everything about her smile made your head spin.

"els, i like you." the words slip out of your mouth before you could even process what was going on. her smile that coerced you to confess to her in the first place falters. "i'm sorry?" she questions, unsure if you meant what she thought you did. you had never said anything that led ellie to believe you were homophobic or that you thought all gay people were sinners like most of the older people who were religious in jackson did. but still she was careful to keep her sexuality from you, strongly assured you would take after your parents' stance on homosexuality.

"i... i don't know why i said that." you say, truthfully. mouth slightly agape and eyes widened with shock that you'd just outed yourself after years of trying to force down your feelings. there was a silence between the two of you. silence wasn't uncommon around each other, sometimes the both of you preferring to spend your time together quietly as a way to unwind after a treacherous day. but this silence was different than those times. ellies breath was caught in her throat, words jumbled on her tongue.

she only began reacting when she saw the panic on your face, followed by your eyes becoming glassy. "hey, hey. don't cry. it's okay." she comforted, sitting up and placing a hand on your knee. she wasn't good at comforting people, you were well aware of that. "i didn't mean to.." you admitted, voice timid and quiet, still uncertain to how she would react. "hey, it's okay, honey." the term of endearment sliding off her tongue like she was meant to call you that for the rest of your lives.

"i'm not mad." ellie affirms, her tone soft, knowing how afraid of other people's anger you are. another flash of silence emerges, just you and ellie staring at each other. neither of you knowing what to say. she pitied you, seeing how much you resented yourself. your bottom lip slotted between your teeth, biting hard enough to potentially draw blood. "don't do that..." she mutters, gently running her thumb over your partially chapped lips, pulling your bottom lip out of your teeth's grasp.

your breath hitches, a small shudder traveling up your spine. your eyes locked on hers, your heart beating loud enough for the whole world to hear. ellie's eyes flicker down to your lips and then back to your eyes. "i've liked you for a while." you admit, knowing there was no going back at this point. "oh, yeah?" her voice was low, some would even describe as seductive. her thumb still lingering on your bottom lip. "yeah." you whisper back, your eyes now flickering down to her lips.

ellie's hand moves to your jaw. her eyes flicking down to your lips one last time before she leans down and presses her lips against yours. her lips are soft, just like you had imagined. she seems skilled, like she knew what she was doing and what the end goal was. a small smile forming on her face as she realizes you have no idea what you're doing. “like this.” she mumbles against your lips acutely aware how clueless you were when it came to romance.

you follow her lead, doing your best to follow her lead. her free hand finding your waist, squeezing gently. you pull away, panting faintly. "i don't know.." you mumble, trailing off as ellie puts her lips back to yours. the hand that was on your jaw roaming to the back of your head, fingers getting tangled in your hair. "i know." ellie responds moments later, her lips brushing against your with each syllable. you couldn't comprehend what was happening, your mind going blank with ellie's lips on yours. she adored the way you looked at her. looking at her like you needed her.

she gently lays you back, grabbing the first pillow she could find and settling it under your head so you were comfortable. her thighs either side of your body, her body weight on top of you, giving you a cozy feeling you'd never experienced before. "you don't even know how long i've been wantin' to kiss your pretty lips..." she whispers, her bangs hanging in front of her face. you bring your hand up to her face, nervously tucking the hair behind her ear. "god, you're so fuckin'..." she stops, just taking a second to admire how alluring you looked under her.

her lips dip down to your neck, slowly biting and sucking on the skin. your breath hitches, a small whine pushing past your swollen lips. ellie groans against the skin of your neck. "make more of those pretty noises f'r me." she mumbles, hips rolling over yours, another whine spilling from you at the pleasurable feeling. ellie's kisses move away from your neck, down your body. trailing down your collarbone to your clothed chest to your stomach. her lips stop, hovering right above your pussy.

your heart was beating out of your chest, you back arching a little in anticipation. "how bad do you wan' it? tell me, baby. tell me how much you wan' me." she was totally and utterly obsessed with you, her mind becoming drunk by the thought of you— the mere sight of you. "p-please, els..." you mumbled, voice timid from embarrassment. it was partially expected though, you'd never done anything like this. "i want you..." it was simple but effective, making ellie go feral for you. "fuck—"

she lowers her lips to your pussy, kissing over the fabric of your shorts. watching her through hooded eyes, your pussy throbbing from her touch. "gonna eat this pussy s'good. show you what you've been missin' out on." she groans, the fabric of your shorts dampening as she trails her tongue over the sensitive area. ellie surprised herself, shocked that she was able to dirty talk to you so easily like this. your hips were writhing against the bed, more eager than you've ever been in your entire life. you felt dirty for wanting this, knowing that god was watching you become a total slut for ellie.

ellie's fingers hooked on your shorts, pulling them down slow as slow could be, chuckling as you whined. "ellie. ellie, please." you muttered, begging for her to hurry up. ellie's eyes rolled back, the sound of you begging getting her more aroused than she's ever been. no one's ever made her feel like this before. she was done with the teasing, if not for your sake but for hers. she pulled your shorts and underwear off swiftly, discarding them somewhere to find later.

her eyes locked on your bare pussy, fighting back a moan at the sight. "you've got me so fucked up, babe." she muttered, kissing around your thighs first. you were nervous, breath shallow and quick paced, hungry for ellie but embarrassed nevertheless. your voice was caught in your throat, blinking quickly as you watched ellie kiss all over your thighs. ellie looked up at you and you were able to see that she was just as nervous as you. "is this okay? you can tell me to stop." she sounded sincere, pushing aside her pure need to get your consent.

you nodded, not trusting your voice. "use your words like the good girl you are, yeah?" she's longing to just taste your glistening cunt. "yes— yes, els. 't's okay..." she doesn't waste another second after hearing your shaky voice, tongue urgently dipping between your wet folds. you moan at the contact, feeling like you were on cloud 9. ellie's tongue presses flat against your clit, your hand clamping over your mouth. moans being muffled as ellie savors the sweet noises your dripping cunt was making.

ellie wasn't fond of you muffling your perfect little sounds, wanting to hear just how good she could make you feel. "let me hear you. don't make me punish you.." you don't move your hand away from your sinful mouth. your free hand finds ellie's, interlocking your fingers which she gladly accepts. "c'mon, baby. let me hear you." she encourages once more, lips moving against you with ease, mixture of your wetness and her spit. but to her dismay, you still ignored her commands. her free hand sliding your shirt up your body to expose your breasts, you were never one to wear a bra. her hand kneading the supple flesh, thumb running over your nipple.

she licks a strip from your entrance to your clit, making your thighs shake with immense pleasure. "wanna be a brat?" she mumbles into your pussy, looking up at you through her eyelashes, staring you down as her tongue circles your clit. "what is it they make you do in confession? hail mary's? 5 of 'em, now. or i stop." she smirks, watching the look in your eye become more flustered by her request. you slowly move your hand away from your mouth, not wanting this pleasure to ever stop.

"h-hail mary, full of grace—" you cut yourself off with a moan, eyes squeezing shut as you lift your hips, pushing your cunt further into ellie's face. "get to ruin this pretty pussy." ellie groans. "keep goin'. don't stop." she aids you to continue, feeling your cunt flutter around her tongue. "the lord is with— is with thee..." you continue, stuttering through the words. "good girl, keep goin' f'r me. let me hear you." she continues to egg you on, talking into your pussy. her own moans mixing in with the sound of yours.

"blessed art thou— ellie, please..." you whine, squeezing her hand and throwing your head back into the pillow, back arching off the bed. "c'mon, pretty girl. blessed art thou..." you toes curl at her words and the feeling of her tongue teasing your entrance. "—amongst... amongst women..." you trail off, mind becoming to hazy to even remember the words to the prayer you've prayed everyday since you could talk. ellie smirked into your cunt, relishing in the feeling of being able to turn your mind into mush, being the only one able to turn your mind into mush.

your moans and whines became breathier and higher pitched with each flick of her tongue. your stomach twisting in an unfamiliar knot. "ah, ah, ellie—" your thighs trying to clench together and push her head away, the feeling becoming too much. "you're gonna cum, baby?" she spreads your legs wider, her only greedy want is to make pleasure wash over you. "ellie! ellie! ellie!" you chant her name, eyes rolling back as the pleasurable wave of your orgasm finally hits you, moans loud and unfiltered.

"there we go... yeah, nice an' easy. fuck." she mutters, tongue fucking you through your high until your writhing and pushing her off of you. her lips relocating to your thighs and slowly working their way up to your pelvic bone, soft kisses against your skin. "tasted so good, baby. best pussy i've ever had." she praises, eager to show you just how much you pleasured her even though you technically didn't make her cum. "els..." you whined, face flushed a rosy red. "yeah, baby. 'm right here." she leaves a trail of kisses up your body as she reaches your lips, leaving a soft peck to let you know she was here. "does this mean you like me too...?" you asked innocently. "are you serious?"

#🍄 ⋆ the last of us #🕰️ ⋆ birds and bees #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #the last of us #the last of us x reader #the last of us smut #tlou #tlou x reader #tlou smut #ellie wiliams #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie smut #ellie x reader smut

[ao3feed-rickorty]

the truth is rarely pure and never simple

by Geneviev

For Proship April's truth serum prompt

"Rick's movement stopped, his fingers digging into his shoulder. "W-what was that, you little shi-eeeurgh-t?"

Morty winced. "N-nothing, Rick. Jeez. I-I said nothing."

"Good boy," Rick growled, and Morty couldn't even feel the shame at the happy shiver that ran through his body before he watched in dismay as Rick strolled through the bar, putting his arm around the winged creature, and pulled them close to his body."

Words: 1400, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 5 of Proship April

Fandoms: Rick and Morty

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty), Morty Smith

Relationships: Rick Sanchez/Morty Smith

Additional Tags: Depression, Abandonment, Truth Serum, (but it is accidental), Love Confessions, Rick Being an Asshole, Angst with a Happy Ending

Check it out on AO3 | https://archiveofourown.org/works/46322677

#the truth is rarely pure and never simple #Geneviev #rickorty #rick and morty #rickorty fanfiction

[cassaloopa]

I love thinking about the fact that when you romance Astarion, like, actually start to romance him, you don’t have sex with him. At all. And it comes up in other interactions later on, like if you get propositioned by Halsin, Astarion checks if his lack of participation is a factor in your consideration? And if you mess with Mizora, similar thing. So it’s clear that since he confessed his true feelings, that part of your relationship pauses, as he requested. Because he’s got trauma and needs a gentle loving space to work through that to be intimate in a healthy way that doesn’t repulse him or taint your bond.

And I love that he gets that narrative because it’s such a rare option for a masculine character to experience sexual abuse and trauma and be allowed a chance to work through and heal from it. Especially if they’re young and gorgeous and virile like he is. He’s only 39 at his death/turning, he was so young, and Cazador treats him like a boy in so many ways while simultaneously using his adult sex appeal as a lure and a weapon to control him and destroy other lives through his body. It’s such an integral part of his abusive enslavement and I appreciate that choice for his story rather than a simple one of monstrous violence, murder, etc which is a more common trope for male characters.

So he’s coming from that place, and then he meets you and his default setting is to fuck you to secure his safety, his worth in your eyes. But if you show him true love and care, he starts to see a way to return that which is something he’s never been able to do before, but the sex complicates it suddenly. And you can just back off from it, give him the space he needs, make him feel safe to trust love and security isn’t bound to what he can offer you physically. It’s not bound to his body, his functions. It’s his personhood that you desire, his essence without strings attached, and he gets to learn that and trust it and grow it without pressure or judgement. Even the times after where you ask to kiss him feel so sweet, to check in with him on such a simple act of intimacy, where he gets his autonomy to consent.

And then, at the end of his storyline in the graveyard, when he’s reclaiming his life in symbolic and literal ways, that’s when he feels the most safe and in love with you, trusts you the most to care for him completely, and that’s when he initiates physicality again. And I just fucking love that for him. So much.

As a person who’s struggled with physical intimacy and learning I could have boundaries and need to take my time with stuff and my partner wouldn’t abandon me over it? Would stay even if I couldn’t promise to ever fulfill that part of our relationship again? The safety of that reassurance is everything, and it helps you find a way back to your body again, to loving it and wanting to share it with another. Because you get to choose when and how and anything offered is received with pure gratitude and admiration. And I love that Astarion gets that chance because he deserves to heal and feel whole again, to live fully without barriers. And you get to help him find that. It’s beautiful.

#cass says random shit #baldurs gate spoilers #bg3 spoilers #astarion #bg3 astarion #baldur’s gate 3 #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #bg3 #astarion baldurs gate #baldurs gate astarion

[littletentofblue]

Brit writing American fanfic problems: unthinkingly writing 'chip' instead of 'french fry' and only catching it on the final read-through DDDD:

#i choose to believe this is the only problem i have as a brit these days #everything else is fine #FINE #yes this means part 2 of rarely pure and never simple will be up later today

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Dragon On The Tower Roof.

Pairing: Yandere!Malleus x Reader (TWST).

Word Count: 4.2k.

TW: Fantasy AU, Mentions of Blood/Bruising, Mentions of Injury to Reader, Implied (Consensual) Sex, Possessive Behavior, and Manipulation.

Malleus met you at the base of his tower.

With a single movement of his wings, he descended from his perch and landed in front of you – placing himself between you and the stone behemoth. Had you been a more imposing figure, a knight or a prince or the general of some distant army, he would’ve cut you down the moment you entered his valley, but your only armor was a thin rucksack tunic and your only weapon was a rusted sword – the tip of its chipped blade currently planted in the ground as you struggled to keep yourself on your feet. He could smell blood on you, although he couldn’t be sure if its source was the jagged, poorly bandaged wound on your calf or the dark stains painting your humble clothes. You were clearly not a knight, much less a prince, and if you were a general, your army had abandoned you long ago. Altogether, you were not the most intimidating nuisance he had ever had to dismiss. He might’ve been grateful, had you not been a nuisance at all.

In the past, his visage alone had been enough to make even the bravest adventure abandon their quest, but your weary eyes only glazed over his black-scaled wings, his spiraling horns, the slit pupils of his unnaturally green eyes. You acknowledged him with a slight nod, putting more of your weight on your makeshift aid. “I believe I’m here to slay you, dragon.”

His greeting, likewise, came in the form of a bowed head, a narrowed gaze. “And to rescue the prince, I assume.”

You shrugged, the gesture alone threatening to cost you your balance. “I’m sure they’d prefer if I didn’t. I think they’ve got someone else for that – a lord, or maybe a king. Someone more befitting than a filthy criminal, surely.”

At that, Malleus felt the ghost of a smile tug at the corner of his lips. Novelty was rare, this far into his everlasting life, and he could not say he’d ever had a prisoner sent after his head. “What sort of crime gets you sent to the lair of a monster?”

You brightened at the question. “Thievery,” you answered, pride overshadowing your exhaustion. “I could either face you or let them cut off my hands and, well, I find those to be quite essential to my burgeoning career.”

This time, you earned an airy laugh, a reflexive flick of his tail. He took another moment to evaluate you before speaking. “You are tired, thief.”

It wasn’t a question, but you answered regardless. “It was a long journey. You aren’t an easy monster to reach.”

“And injured, presumably by the fangs of some great beast of legend.”

“Right again.” You paused, then added, “If there are any legends about wolves, I mean.”

“And hungry.” Your smile fell. When you failed to respond, he went on. “May I invite you to share a meal with me before our battle?”

He watched as you swallowed, as you straightened. Your sword was pulled from the ground and allowed to hang limply at your side as you stared up at him with such a hopeful expression – his heart, had it not been so terribly calloused, might’ve broken at the sight alone. “Well,” you started, your humor gone in exchange for pure, unabashed desperation. “I suppose I can’t refuse such a kindly offered invitation.”

With no further conversation, he stepped to the side, raising his staff to the tower. After only a moment, the endless cobblestone pulled away to reveal a simple, wooded door – already open and awaiting his entry. Smiling, he motioned for you to follow him, and without protest, you obeyed.

~

You ate, to put it politely, like a starving animal.

There’d been an attempt at decency when you first sat down at the opposing head of his banquet table, a gallant effort to make use of the flatware arranged into neat, never-ending lines on either side of your plate, but what little energy you had for such pleasantries was depleted quickly as your attention was dedicated entirely to the whims of your empty stomach. Countless other dishes decorated the table – ranging from fine delicacies fit for the pallets of kings to common staples even the lowest of peasantry would’ve been familiar with, but Malleus was content to nurse a goblet of dark, herbed wine as he watched you bask in the feast.

Only after you’d gotten your fill did you seem to remember that you had company, your expression taking on a sheepish note. “This is what they brought me to trial for. Trespassing, I mean,” you began, and Malleus hummed in acknowledgement. “It was a baron’s manor – not quite a castle, but close to it. I heard he had the most beautiful gardens on this continent, and at the time, it seemed unreasonable to have to wait for an invitation just to take a look.”

“I thought you were a thief?”

“You must have the wrong person. I’ve been many things, but never a thief.” You leaned back in your chair. “I’m afraid I’ve always been too tender-hearted for that kind of thing. I could never stand to insult my hosts.”

“Such a considerate guest I have,” he said, cocking his head to the side. “I suppose I won’t have to worry about being robbed blind if I let you stay the night, then.”

You shook your head, feigning ego. “I would never, dear dragon. Your reclusive prince, on the other hand—”

Whatever you might’ve gone on to say was swiftly replaced with a sudden gasp as every torch within sight burst into a pillar of vicious emerald flame, casting the dining room in a blinding, sickly green before dying out just as abruptly as it’d erupted. Malleus let out an exasperated breath, bringing a hand to his temples. “My apologies. My patience has grown—” He cast a wayward glance toward the ash now seared into the stone walls, the ceiling. “—thin, over my time here.”

You allowed a beat to pass by in silence, then another. “Your prince,” you said, finally. “Is he important to you?”

“I can think of nothing I value more.” The answer came easily, even if the intensity of his sentiment surprised him. “An old friend asked me to ensure his safety. I’ve performed my role dutifully ever since.” The taste of blood rose into the back of his throat, but he drowned it out with another long sip from his goblet. “They used to send entire armies to reclaim him, then lone knights, then the occasional adventurer. You might be the first human to come seeking my head in two or three decades.”

Your smile took on a shy lilt, your eyes drifting to the table. “I wasn’t really supposed to come after you, either. Most people just take it as an exile, but they gave me a sword, and…” It was your turn to laugh, now, to be surprised with yourself. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I thought, even if I don’t get to rescue any princes, it could be nice to see how much of the fairy tale is true.”

“And you’re satisfied with what you’ve found?”

“Not entirely,” you admitted. “But I’m glad I met you, dear dragon.”

After some hesitation, he pushed himself to his feet and closed the distance between you. You stiffened, your gaze flitting blatantly toward the sole exit, but you didn’t attempt to flee as he pulled the closest seat in front of you and fell into it. “May I see your leg?”

You were far more than reluctant, but complied. The material of your travel weary trousers was pulled above your knee, the strips of fabric you’d attempted to fashion into bandages cut away with his own pitch-black talons. The wound was worse than he’d assumed, more severe than he assumed. Ragged skin stretched from your knee to your ankle, harsh puncture marks littering what little flesh was still in-tact. The stress of your journey had prevented the brunt of the damage from healing, and even without the use of his advanced senses, he would’ve been able to feel the heat radiating off of your skin, the first signs of infection beginning to set in. You were lucky you’d made it to his tower before the fever spread. His territory was cruel to the most resilient of creatures, and you seemed far from resilient.

“I have a salve in my collection that should aid in your recovery. That, paired with a few days of bed rest, should have you on your feet again in a week’s time.” Not a lie, but not far from one, either. He’d mended worse with a snap of his fingers, but there was no reason you should have to be burdened with such knowledge. “If you can find it within yourself to share a roof with a monster and delay our duel yet again, I can provide room and board while you recover.”

Your laugh was bright and strained. “You’re terribly kind to someone who came here to take your life.”

“And you’re very trusting of a creature who could easily end yours.” He let his pointed claws scrape over your bare skin, prolonging his evaluation. “Think of it as a show of my gratitude. My time here is well-spent, but tends to pass slowly. Visitors, whether benevolent or malicious, help to color my days.”

“Then I will have to be the most colorful visitor you’ve ever had,” you chimed, your grin renewed with fresh vigor. Clearly, you were not the type of mortal who could go long without a task. “I’ll make you wait on me hand and foot and bend to my every whim, until the thought of encountering another human being makes you sick. When I’m done, there might even be a dragon in this tower worth slaying.”

His only response was a steady nod, a low hum. He stood and, in the same motion, hooked one arm under the bend of your knees and another around your waist, lifting you into the air before you had the chance to so much as think to pull away. Instinctually, you attempted to re-balance yourself against him, and Malleus couldn’t help himself – laughing as he pulled you to his chest. “If I am to dote on you to the point of sickness, then let me start now. You’re in no state to walk on your own.”

You opened your mouth as if to complain, but anything you might’ve said was deemed too unimportant to warrant the effort. Your smile softened, your eyes falling shut as you rested your head against his shoulder. You lingered there, quiet and content, as he carried you through the halls of what would come to be your home.

~

Your prescribed period of bed rest came and went. Your bruises healed, then your leg (although you still tended to limp during particularly heavy rainstorms), and your exhaustion was replaced by a buzzing sort of restlessness. He never asked you to leave, and after some time, you seemed to stop expecting him to. You spoke rarely of your past (aside from the ever-changing series of events that led you to his tower, of course) and never of your future. When Malleus was in one of his more indulgent moods, he allowed himself to believe that, when he did catch you looking in his direction with such a glimmering worry in your eyes, you weren’t afraid of him, but of the possibility that he might send you away.

Despite your claims of spoiled houseguests and encumbered hosts, he was only driven to near-madness once while sharing your company. It’d been shortly after you instated yourself as a resident of his tower, rather than a fleeting visitor, and took to exploring your new dwelling without reservation. It’d been his own fault, really. He’d forgotten to warn you away from the upper wing, to resketch the protective runes he’d long-since allowed to fade, but such rationality had escaped him as he stood in the doorway, his mind empty and his eyes trained on your kneeling figure. He watched, paralyzed, as you raised a hand, reaching towards the marble slab, and then he was behind you – the points of his talons grazing the skin of your throat before he managed to restrain himself, curling his fist around the collar of your shirt, instead. Without warning, he hauled you off your feet, ignoring the half-choked shriek you let out in response.

His eyes fell to Silver, searching for any signs of harm, of disruption. Of course, Silver was unchanged. His colorless hair remained fanned over his velvet-cushioned pillow, the silk sheets and hand-stitched quilts still folded neatly at the foot of his bed – waiting to be put to use when the weather turned in autumn. Malleus took a moment to observe the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, the gentle movement behind his closed eyes, before letting out a breath of relief and turning to you. “I don’t recall giving you permission to enter this chamber.”

“Sorry, I— I was just looking around, and I saw the flowers on the door—” Silver’s own craftsmanship, preserved from the ravages of time by Malleus’ spell work. He’d painted them as soon as he was old enough to hold a brush, along with matching murals on his bedroom walls that hadn’t survived the passing ages. “—I got curious, that’s all. Is this the prince I was sent after?”

Malleus set his jaw, straightening his hunched posture. “…it is,” he answered, eventually. He let go of your collar and let you stumble onto your feet. “His name is Silver. I never knew him by any titles.”

Malleus’ gaze shifted to you, but your eyes remained fixed on Silver. “He’s beautiful.”

Despite himself, he felt the edge of his lips turn downward. He rested a hand on your shoulder, and you seemed to recover from your daze, turning to face him with a hopeful smile. “Do you know when he’s going to wake up?”

Malleus felt a coil of heat form in the back of the throat. The taste of ash laid heavy over his tongue, but he swallowed back his guilt and forced himself to respond. “In another hundred years, perhaps,” he mused, his tone melodic and detached. “There’s no known cure for a curse like his.”

A phantom of disappointment flickered across your expression, but it was suppressed quickly. Rather, you turned your attention outward – to the heavy, woven curtains draped over each crystalline window. “Will you help me let in some light? I hate to insult your taste, but it’s terribly depressing in here, and—” You brightened, taking him by the sleeve and tugging gingerly. “We don’t want his highness to have any nightmares, do we?”

With some reluctance, Malleus nodded. “Light, but nothing else.” When you failed to acknowledge him, he caught you by the wrist, squeezing with just enough pressure for your smile to falter. “Light, but nothing else. Do you understand?”

Your eyes darted back to Silver, but only for a moment. He was thankful for that – for your restraint. A second longer, and his true nature might’ve overshadowed his better judgement. “Of course, dear dragon. Nothing else.”

He inhaled sharply, then let go of you altogether.

It was a choice that, in the approaching months, he would only come to regret.

~

“This is what they banished me for, you know.”

“This?”

“Yes, this exactly.” You propped your chin on his chest, positioning yourself to more easily card your fingers through his hair. He let his eyes fall shut, basking in the warmth of your affection, of your bare skin pressed into his. Your clothes laid discarded on the grass around you, one of his wings bent and raised to shield you from the harsh light of the setting sun. He would have to get you back to the tower, soon. He’d always been indifferent to the deadly chill of night, but you – in your precious, delicate mortality – were not so durable. “Actually, not quite – I don’t think I ever made it to this part. It was the first time I’d ever attended a royal ball, and I happened to dance with a young lady so breath-taking, I couldn’t help but drop to one knee and dedicate my heart to her the moment our hands touched.” You sighed, feigning remorse. “Little did I know that she was the princess that ball was being thrown for, and so moved by my passion, she refused to let me out of her embrace until I agreed to marry her. Of course, her father – the king, as the fathers of princesses tend to be – couldn’t have that. It’s a shame, really. We would’ve made a gorgeous couple.”

Malleus pursed his lips, fighting back a smile. “And what does that make me? The next scorned lover of a silver-tongued rouge?”

“Oh, no. If you asked me to marry you,” You propped yourself up, pressing a kiss into the curve of his jaw. “There’d be nothing in the world that could stop me, dear dragon.”

Your hand fell to his cheek, and wistfully, you lulled him into a kiss – shallow but lingering, punctuated with a playful nip at his bottom lip. You pulled back with a smile, another quick peck to his cheek. You moved to say something, but he interrupted you, as mournful as he was to cut off such a precious moment so callously. “I found your wildflowers.”

Immediately, your expression fell. “I made sure not to—”

“I know, beloved, I know.” You knew better than to lay a hand on Silver. Your small bouquet had been left on the corner of his bed, another additional chain of asters and lavender braided into one of the longer strands of his waist-length hair. As much as he wished he could say he was only concerned for Silver’s well-being, it wouldn’t have been the truth. Something else, something darker, had accompanied the discovery – something it would be better for you to stay ignorant of. “We’ve talked about this. Silver is vulnerable, in his current condition. Even the simplest luxury is an unspeakable risk.”

Your shoulders dropped, your body going slack against his. You bowed your head, burying your face in the dip of his shoulder, and despite his frustration with you, he didn’t push you away. “I’m sorry. It just feels so cruel to let him suffer alone.”

“He’s never been alone.” His tone was more curt than he’d meant it to be. “He’s always had me.”

“I know, but—” He expected you to raise your hair, to flash him that brilliant grin. Instead, you only settled against him, speaking softly into the crook of his neck. “He just seems so sad.”

Malleus took a deep breath, clenching his eyes shut.

Then, before he could let himself think better of it, he wrapped an arm around your waist. In one fluid motion, he turned you over – leaving you on your back, one of his knees planted on either side of your waist, your form tucked safely underneath his. His kiss was less gentle than your own – that deep, aching sort of hunger overwhelming his cautiousness as his tongue raked over yours, as he groaned unabashedly into your mouth. You returned his affection emphatically; your fingers soon knotted in his hair, your eager touch preventing so much as the thought of distance between your body and his. Because there never would be distance between you and him. Because there was no reason you should ever have to be taken away from him.

Hours later, when the last traces of light had faded and the stars were painted in swirling patterns across the sky, he would carry you back to his tower – unconscious and pliable in his arms. That would be the first night you spent in his bed, and as he laid there with you, he couldn’t help but imagine how wonderful it would be if you never left.

~

The runes carved into Silver’s door were redrawn, Malleus’ enchantments refreshed, and your bittersweet sympathy slowly rotted into a distinctly bland melancholy. You didn’t speak of him (Malleus could only wonder how you ever managed to speak of anyone when so many of his marks so often decorated your skin), but he noticed new scratches around the well-rusted lock on Silver’s door, caught you braiding chains of daisies and crowns of marigolds with no intended recipient in mind, and at night, you tended to slip out of his hold and wander. Sometimes, he waited for you, lying awake as you hunted for whatever solace there was to find in the empty halls of an ancient tower. Most nights, tonight, he chased after you.

He found you in a window near the tower’s highest room, laid across the wooden sill, your back propped against the empty frame. He didn’t ask to join you – wordlessly lowering himself to the floor at your feet. As if by reflex, your hand fell to his horns, your thumb tracing over a particular ridge near the base as you broke the quiet. “Have ever told you why I’m here, dear dragon?”

Countless times, but he still played along. “Who has my heart been stolen by today, beloved?”

“A murderer,” you said, hollowly. “And not a particularly clever one, at that.”

He waited for you to go on, to spin some elaborate tale of love and loss and betrayal and poor humor, but you only lapsed back into silence, your gaze turning back to the pitch-black valley. He watched your vacant expression for a moment, then another before letting his eyes fall shut and resting his cheek against your thigh.

~

Malleus had expected there to be more anger than this.

You were in a similar position to one you’d taken the first time you stumbled into Silver’s chambers – kneeling beside his marble bed, your ever-weary eyes fixed on the unknowing object of your adoration. The only difference was that, today, Silver’s hand was raised to your lips, now slightly parted in shock. He didn’t have to guess at the source of your astonishment. In front of you, Silver was sitting up. His posture was unsteady, his eyes barely open, but the obvious was undeniable.

He was awake.

To think, there was something of merit to Lilia’s stories of true love after all.

Rather than anger, rage, pure and undiluted fury, an odd sort of calm settled over his blank mind as you snapped in his direction. Your astonishment turned to horror in an instant. “Malleus, I didn’t— I was only trying to—”

He put you out of your mercy quickly. He raised his staff and, propelled by some unseen force, you were torn away from Silver’s bedside and thrown against the nearest walls – the force of the collision far from fatal, but enough to leave you limp and unconscious. With your safety ensured, he stepped forward, approaching Silver. He was awake, but only just. So many decades of uninterrupted sleep would not be so willing to release him from their taloned clutches without a struggle, and there was a certain dream-like lull to the way his eyes skirted over the limited scenery before settling on Malleus, his features immediately softening in relief. “Malleus?”

“I’m here.” Malleus allowed himself a small smile before bringing the end of his staff to Silver’s forehead. “You can rest, brother.”

There was just enough time for the edges of Silver’s lips to turn downward before he collapsed back onto the marble slab. Malleus would arrange him later on. For now, his attention turned to you.

He gathered your crumpled form in his arms and carried you through the halls of his lonely tower, before stepping into the clear air and fresh heat of the valley. He laid you in the tall grass and, after taking a moment to appreciate your peaceful expression, brought a hand to your face, cupping your cheek tenderly. The spell came to him instinctually, but he took his time, mourning the loss of your time together with each mumbled word. That was a silver-lining of immortality, though. Infinite time allowed for infinite repetition, and he couldn’t imagine giving up the opportunity to fall in love with you again.

When he was done, your eyes fluttered open, a smile quickly finding its way to your lips. “Hello, dragon.” You gazed darted to either side nervously, your mind struggling to catch up with your clever tongue. “I would love to introduce myself, but it’s the funniest thing – I can’t seem to remember what I’m doing here.”

He bit back a smile. You tried to force yourself into a more dignified position, but barely managed to get an arm underneath you before pausing, wincing, reaching for the back of your head and coming away with blood smeared across your fingertips. Malleus did what he could to hide his delight.

“You’re a thief. You injured yourself attempting to scale my tower. It was an impressive effort, but tragically unnecessary.”

This time, he couldn’t hide the wide, simpering grin that came to rest across his lips.

“I was always going to invite you inside.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #yandere twisted wonderland #twst x reader #yandere twst #twst imagines #malleus x reader #yandere malleus #yanderecore #yancore

[helluvapoison]

Make Me Weak

˚✧₊⁎ The Vees ⁎⁺˳✧༚

warnings: violence

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Velvette ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Everything you are she should abhor– and would if it was anyone else— so she doesn’t pretend to understand how you weave into her life so easily. That time is instead spent wondering how the fuck she’s survived both her hellish lives without you

• Velvette always felt she was owed the praise and compliments she got. Receiving them from you was an entirely different type of high to ride. Your candied tone and sickeningly sweet words clung to her like smoke and had her itching for more

• You massage her hands so she has no choice but to surrender her phone, only then does she realize how cramped they’ve become. You sit in her workshop during Hell Week, sending a mellowing wave that relaxes her chaos in the form of a simple thumbs up. You make up for not being on the receiving end of her camera by setting up aesthetic dates for her to capture instead

• Velvette captures your chin, “You put up with a lotta my shit, Dollface. I’m not great at sharing credit, but I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“But I didn’t do anything?”

“You’re my muse, baby. Gimme the word and I can have you on a billboard tonight. Fuck Joanne, the raggetty bitch, I’ll bump her and have you up there for all of Hell to see!”

Your smile falters to a grimace, your eyes telling her what she already knows. Vel doesn’t get why you hate the limelight. This conversation always ends one way and if she hears you say one bad thing about yourself, she’ll tear out her hair. With a sigh, she tucks you back under her arm and kisses the crown of your head

“Fine. I didn’t wanna share you anyways.”

Your light laugh makes her smile again

˚✧₊⁎ Valentino ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Val does everything in his power not to allow you to witness one of his volatile moments. He has a very specific image of you in his mind and to a looser extent, you do too. You’re not prim or naive that you don’t know what he does, but his violent tendencies are something else to behold. You’re too sweet, too pure to completely join his world

• It’s never bothered him before, seeing that look on someone’s face. The one where their eyes go wide in horror because they know exactly what comes next but there’s no telling what would happen if the pedestal Val put you on crumbled because you saw him grabbing a whore by the neck and using them as an ashtray

• Truly, no indulgence he’s ever sampled has come close to taking the edge off him like one of your hugs. Softer than angel wings and more intoxicating than any elixir, you’re euphoria trapped in a sinner’s body

• “I almost feel bad for keeping you to myself,” Val purrs in your ear. He’s been laying underneath you for six minutes and already the shittiness of the day evaporated, “I could bottle and sell you. Make everyone in Hell as happy as I am.”

A nervous, bitter laugh escapes you

“You wouldn’t make much money, Val.”

“I would make millions, corazón” He argues seriously, though he has no intention of sharing you

˚✧₊⁎ Vox ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• The irony is lost on him; someone as soft as you could bring him, an Overlord, to succumb. Below the surface, he’s more insecure than he lets on. He’s perfected the mask of a charming show host, developed it so well that it bleeds into his personality. So much so, that you make him glitch when he gets an inkling of self doubt. Your gentleness makes him weak and it terrifies him, fills him with the urge to push you away but your arms are so inviting that he lets himself be cradled by them. How could he do anything but?

• Rare are the days where he actually feels tired but those are the days he seeks out your affections. To him, you’re safe. You won’t judge him, you don’t pry for details, you’d never tell him to suck it up

• Vox lets himself sink into the couch beside you, tapping your thigh with a claw to invite you to come closer. You never fail to accept and deliver exactly what he needs. It’s bizarre how you know what he needs when he doesn’t himself. Turning to straddle him, you rest your head on his chest and hug him impossibly closer

• “You’re tense today,” You comment quietly, giving him a comforting squeeze.

“Come with me to set for once, you’ll find out why.”

Nuzzling into his chest as if trying to find his nonexistent heartbeat, you replied, “Nah. Sounds like too much of a hassle.”

“Exactly why I need you there.”

“Promise not to bring me on air like you’re always threatening to?”

A dry cackle escapes as he keeps his gaze towards the ceiling. Vox has this fanatical plan that you two could be the power couple of Hell, outranking Lucifer and Lilith (and lasting twice as long) if you would just sit at the same desk as him, deliver news and playful banter that would knock 666 News down a couple thousand pegs. You were worried someone wouldn’t want to see your face, you’d make his ratings plummet, you’d ruin everything he worked so hard to build. He hates when you spiral like that.

“No.” Vox mumbles honestly.

He’d prove you wrong like he’s done everyone else, one way or another

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel headcanon #vox headcanons #vox x reader #vox imagine #velvette imagine #velvette headanons #velvette x reader #valentino x reader #valentino imagine #valentino headcanon #help i’m actually falling for val

[crypticminx]

Telling Felix Catton you’re pregnant <333

Felix Catton (Saltburn) x fem! Reader headcanons xo

AN: hiiii these are some headcanons I made :p im too lazy to proofread Dx if you enjoy lmk if you want part 2! Blink twice and you’ll miss the smut xx

- first of all, your relationship started out as a one night stand situation because for the love of God Felix cannot keep a woman or anyone around for more than a few months—weeks even.

- You, however, were a different situation. He saw other people, you saw other people, but the two of you always kept each other locked in the back of both of your heads. Wether you needed him as a very exciting stress reliever or he needed you to release any ounce of frustration he had, the two of you were just a simple phone call away. And not just drunk booty calls.

- The feeling of his broad shoulders pressed against your frame as he would effortlessly lift you up and pin you to the wall, whispering sweet melodies into your ears as he thrusted with all of his might to make you feel good—no, more than good. He’d never admit it, but for a girl like you, he’d give you everything, even if meant he’d have nothing. “Such a good girl,” he’d purr, feeling you melt under the sound—and for a better word, control of his asserting voice

- The two of you lovebirds were loud, extremely noisy and often torturous for the other students near your dorm, who were either trying to cram for exams or focus on non-sexual activities. You would moan without a care in the world and especially when you felt him release his seed in you for the first time, which you could only assume wasn’t planned nor talked about between the two of you. It felt too sweet, and so pure with how he breathlessly smiled at your sweaty, blushing face after the deed was done. Said smile being enough to make you fall into his little trap and roll back over into another intense round of sex

- With Felix, it was like walking on a dream that never seemed to end. You could be careless, indiscreet and whatever the hell you wanted to be. he provided you with a sense of being free from the real world and wholeheartedly invited you deep into the unrealistic life of Felix Catton.

- That dream, the very one that appeared to be endless, came crashing down. What ruined it? Two little pink lines.

- With an eyebrow piercing that adults despised, a stunning model-like body, and a reputation for tossing girls around like they were paper planes; Felix was fuck buddy material, not father material.

- Sure, he has enough money to knock you up ten times and make sure every child would be provided for, but you were you. Yes, you came from wealth but not the type of catton wealth that would probably leave a child with a ridiculously expensive live-in nanny as if it was nothing. Knowing how your parents felt, there was no way in hell they would be supportive and even just the simple thought of them meeting Felix made you cringe to the point of triggering your morning sickness again.

- You would avoid Felix like the plague you read about in your boring history textbooks and on the rare occurrence you ran into him heading out on his bike or going for a well deserved drink, you would bolt as if you had to run for your life. Facing him was just the beginning of your problems

- So when you finally mustered the courage to tell him and unfortunately for you, it had to be at the university’s sleazy lounge pub, Felix was there in all his glory and sat in his usual spot. Farleigh seemed more interested in drinking than caring about what was being said, a group of girls were scattered around the boys and obnoxiously fake laughed at whatever Felix said, and there was that new guy whose name you couldn’t remember to save your life. Oliver? You thought it was, but that clearly didn’t matter anymore. The only thing that mattered was you and Felix.

- Felix nearly chokes on his drink seeing you walk towards him, your head down and your tail between your legs. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

- You ask him to talk immediately, ignoring how content he looks. How his solemn eyes instantly sparked with life again and his bored expression turned into a relish of happiness. He was thrilled.

- “I’m pregnant.”

- He stares blankly at you, seeing you tear up as if you just admitted something horrible

- A baby? And a baby with you? Nothing about that was horrible. In fact, he often pictured a future with you, even if it seemed insane.

- i he’s not angry. In fact his thick brows soften and somehow in the midst of all the chaos of noise surrounding the two of you, his words are very clear.

- “I’m glad it’s with you.”

#jacob elordi #saltburn #felix catton smut #felix catton #felix catton x reader #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #saltburn 2023

[satorugu]

In Every Era (Sukuna x f!reader)

She is the reincarnation of his love, and he plans to be with her in every era.

Warnings: Blood, violence, fighting, making out

Note: The readers technique relates to ice and being able to lower the temperatures around her enough to create it. Both Heian era and the version of Sukuna in Itadori's body is included.

"There are three victims we need to find, correct?" (Y/N) clarified as the group walked down a corridor.

It was oddly lit, the sound of their shoes echoing off of the walls as they made their way through the juvenile detention center. This was simply an investigation, much easier than other missions they had received. As sorcerers, finding dead bodies was considered casual, but there was a slight chance they could run into something else.

A rumor of a special grade being discovered inside was circulating, meaning it could spawn at any moment.

Although it was just a rumor.

It was rare for cursed wombs to produce them, which is what caused the massacre in the first place.

"Yes, and the dog remembers the scent of the entrance," Fushiguro said, referring to the white dog trotting in front of them.

"Simple enough," Itadori nodded.

The second set of eyes underneath his pre-existing ones were contradictory to his own, with red irises that never showed a hint of emotion. Itadori was the opposite, almost always seen smiling or at the least content. (Y/N) hadn't seen the second pair close, as they never seemed to take their gaze off of her.

Every time she looked at him, she saw them staring back at her.

She thought it was coincidental, that they followed anyone who shot Itadori a glance, perhaps an intimidation tactic of Sukuna's.

His reputation already surpassed a level of intimidation though.

(Y/N) feared ever being in Itadori's presence when Sukuna came out.

Everyone did.

"Look!"

Both she and Fushiguro turned to the sound of Itadori's voice, seeing a corpse sitting in the back of the room they entered. Fushiguro crossed his arms, standing next to the pink-haired boy and taking in the sight.

"That's one down," he commented. "It's odd there aren't any others here."

"Yeah, wouldn't there be some sort of trail?" Itadori added, considering the behavior of a cursed womb.

The body was cut clean, the upper half being all that was left.

(Y/N) crouched down on one knee in front of the two, running her hand across the floor.

The cleanliness wasn't purposeful, she noted, as she felt dirt pick up on the pad of her fingers. No one had tried to stage this, if they did, the floors would be cleaned due to having to wipe up the blood.

"A cursed womb didn't kill him."

Then it clicked, uneasiness sinking into the three sorcerers like an injection.

Sweat budded on both Fushiguro and Itadori's foreheads, the two now frozen in place.

It was eerily silent, as (Y/N) felt the temperature around her hand drop. She was trying to muster up the courage to swallow, as she stared forward in horror.

They were supposed to investigate a detention center haunted by a cursed womb.

Not fight a special grade curse.

And now it was right next to them, closing the gap between Itadori and Fushiguro. Their only security from it was beheaded and bleeding out, that security being one of Fushiguro's Divine Dogs.

The special grade was different from most curses, having a human-like body that was well in shape. It was tall as well, with pale white skin and eyes attached to a pair of arches on its head.

(Y/N) huffed out a cold breath, cursed energy being conjured in her arm.

They were going to die if they ran.

And there was a low chance that they could beat a special grade.

A heaping amount of ice shot out of her hand on command. It formed a barricade between the curse and the sorcerers, causing the two boys to back up and snap out of their fear-induced trance.

It was only for a moment though, as a wave of pure force shattered it in return and sent all three tumbling back. It was like acid, burning through the floor and causing smoke to emit into the air.

(Y/N)'s eyes widened.

"We can't fight it! We need to find an exit!" Fushiguro shouted.

Her ice was supposed to be impenetrable, nothing had ever broken it like that before.

She was airborne.

The second she spent reflecting on the attack sent her flying backward again, as the special grade sent out another wave. She hit the wall immediately, turning the surface in on itself as an indent now marked it. The wind was knocked out of her lungs, watching Itadori pick up speed, making an attempt at close combat before being sent back in a similar fashion.

Fushiguro went to summon his second Divine Dog, clasping his hands together and opening his mouth.

But the words never came out.

Rather than a wolf appearing out of a shadow, an abnormal black hole appeared underneath him.

He fell in, his scream being cut off as soon as it shut.

The special grade curse turned to the two sorcerers, having separated the other.

Itadori shouted out in pain, falling to the ground after he had been tossed aside. He held onto his head like it was the end of his life, mumbling a spiel of panicked words that (Y/N) couldn't understand. She didn't pay that close attention to him though, distracted by the curse now approaching her.

It was forming another kind of cursed energy surge in its hand, aiming at her as she tried to form a counterattack.

The back of her head was bleeding, and a pounding headache formed across her forehead.

She was destroyed.

(Y/N) let out uneven breaths, standing up wearily and attempting to make another offense. She thought of freezing it, barreling towards the curse, and using the slipperiness of the ice to help her move even quicker. It was like skating, as she shot out a wave of ice that wrapped around the special grade, and trapped it.

There was a micro-expression of a smile on her face, before the solid block of ice began to glow orange.

A crack began to form on the exterior.

Then the entirety of it burst.

The special grade took its large claw around (Y/N) neck and lifted her up, squeezing the air out of her lungs.

It opened it's mouth, a massive sum of cursed energy forming inside as it aimed for her face.

This was death.

She couldn't breath, yanking against it's grasp and trying to free herself. Either she would suffocate from lack of oxygen, or have her face burnt to ashes.

She was a fool not to run.

(Y/N) saw the cursed energy dart out towards her, feeling the heat right against her eyes as she closed them for the last time.

It sounded like a blade cut straight through something.

Arms from the side of her slid around her back and under her legs, holding her bridal style as she collapsed in it's hold. She felt whatever was holding her land in a crouched position, still keeping her to itself.

She felt her head rest on a beating chest, a hot breath landing on her nose.

Her eyes opened to meet a pair of red irises staring back at her.

The silence was pregnant.

Sukuna.

The great amount of fear was evident in her expression, as she swallowed back and dared to move.

He set her down, as the sound of the Special Grade crying out could be heard from behind. Sukuna had took off it's arm, but it seemed to have grown it back, turning to face the King of Curses. It summoned a massive amount of cursed energy in it's hands, forming a sphere that shot out towards him.

"Pathetic."

With one hand Sukuna shielded both himself and (Y/N) from it, standing almost casually.

"Allow me to show you real Jujutsu Sorcery."

The Special Grade was still, horror evident in the screech it let out. The King of Curses raised his hands, putting them together in a specific formation.

This was ten times worse than being choked or burnt to death.

"Domain Expansion, malevolent shrine."

Suddenly, everything around them vanished, as a pitch black abyss consumed (Y/N)'s vision. The small, unkempt detention center had been remade into an atmosphere that she couldn't describe. She was sitting on water, a lake to be in fact. The entire floor was water, except for a Shrine that sat in the middle of it. It was built off of a pile of skulls, Sukuna standing on top of it all.

He had a white Kimono on, looking directly at the curse that was frozen next to her.

One moment it was there.

The next, it was cut into ten different parts, burned alive by purple flames.

She thought she was next.

Sukuna walked off of the pile, making his way towards her in the dimly lit domain.

(Y/N) thought of running, her heart pounding faster by each step he took. She was frozen in place, unable to get up as she looked into the eyes she had seen a thousand times. Always the same, always red, always emotionless.

She was thinking of the worst death possible, wondering if he had saved her only to kill her himself as he towered over her helpless form.

The King of Curses knelt down, as she sat leaning back on her hands.

"Soon, you will understand," were the words that left his mouth, as he pressed a delicate kiss to her forehead.

(Y/N) couldn't register what had transpired, as she felt an overwhelming amount of exhaustion kick in and couldn't resist falling asleep.

It was the Heian era, the golden age of Jujutsu.

(Y/N) fiddled with the red dress she was wearing, as she stood by the fountain in the garden. It fit her body well, with thin straps that showed off her shoulders.

This is where she spent her free time, away from the servants and maids. It was peaceful, always well kept and bright. The flowers were watered properly, and the stone that marked the grounds were always cleaned of dirt. There was no war here, it was fitting of her personality.

A familiar pair of strong, big hands wrapped around her waist, along with another pair coming to hold her upper arms, stroking her skin lightly.

She felt his gaze on her, as she held onto one of his hands and looked up at him.

"You were right, it is quite peaceful out here," her husband, Ryomen Sukuna, said.

"It's very fitting of you," she teased.

"Is that so?" he leaned down, pressing a kiss to her neck.

He felt her shiver, letting out a breathy laugh and turning around to face him.

The look in his eyes was filled with affection, a soft smile in place of an emotionless and deadly stare.

It was clear he was in love.

And so was she, as he picked her up and she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him passionately. Two of his arms held onto her upper thighs, while the other two rested on her head, one running their fingers through her hair, the other cupping the side of her face. If it wasn't for the fact that she was human, she might've not let go. Yet she broke away from him to catch her breath, resting her forehead against his.

Her hot breaths landed on his nose, as he held her up high enough to look down on him. She couldn't help but smile, as he refused to take his gaze off of her.

He leaned in, stopping just before their lips could meet, and whispered something.

"I will love you in every era."

For a moment she thought he was making an effort to be romantic, but it was clear in his tone that he was sure of it.

He would love her in every era, even if she didn't remember him.

(Y/N) shot up, and for a moment, she thought she was still in the detention center, stuck in the domain.

She was in her bed, the covers tucked in around her, arranged just how she liked. Her dorm was cleaner than she left it, an outfit sitting out for her by the desk. All of her wounds were fully healed, in fact, she hadn't felt this rested since she came here.

She reached for her phone, seeing that it was almost eleven in the morning. (Y/N) never slept in that late, nor slept that deep. The only reason she hadn't been woken up was because it was the weekend.

Then, she thought of her dream, and Sukuna's words from before.

Soon, you will understand.

(Y/N) threw off the covers hurriedly, putting on the outfit laid out without question and rushing towards the door.

She opened it to see both Fushiguro and Itadori standing outside in the hallway, talking amongst one another.

It was odd.

"Oh, hey (Y/N)!" Itadori exclaimed.

"Are you two okay?" she panicked, looking at Fushiguro specifically.

"Yeah, why?" he asked her.

"What happened?"

"I don't know, honestly, we both just woke up here."

"Yea, the Special Grade got taken care of, along with the three victims we were assigned to finding," Itadori added casually.

"By who..."

The boys both shot each other a look, shrugging almost comically. She didn't know what to say, as her eyes trailed down to the pair that were below Itadori's.

They were staring directly at her, once again.

She flushed and swallowed back, thinking of the dream she had. First, he kissed her, followed up by her somehow falling asleep and having a vision about the two of them. It wasn't the version of Sukuna that saved her though, it was his true form, the one that was most prominent during the golden age.

(Y/N) looked down at her outfit, eyeing the red top she had on.

It fit her body well, with thin straps that showed off her shoulders.

That wasn't a dream.

A/N: Part two?

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna fluff #sukuna imagine #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x y/n

[fleshbride]

PRESENTING . . . AIN’T NUN BUT A HOOCHIE MAMA!

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ TOJI FUSHIGURO X F!BLK!HOOCHIE READER

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ CW: black fem reader; reader is 26, toji is 34; reader is on the thicker side; usage of the word nigga a few times; smut; breeding kink, hair pulling, dumbification, overstimulation, pussy slapping, impact play, messy pussy eatin’, size kink, hints of sado-masochism, a bit of brat taming, manhandling, praise & degradation, multiple orgasms, cervix fucking, choking, squirting; fwb-ish to lovers (?); pet names are used, such as mama, baby, pretty girl, dollface, princess & sweetheart; reader has a kid of her own; reader is a hoochie, meaning she’s seen as ‘ghetto’ but in a very pro-black & attractive way; reader has a mature body, pudge, cellulite, stretch marks; reader accidentally flashes toji; reader & toji share a blunt; toji is actually a good dad in this!

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ wc: 7.5k

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ this is actually pure filth. this was my first time writing for toji EVER and actually my longest work. guys when i tell you i put some shit into this thing, idk what i did but i SNAPPED. HARD. i hope you guys enjoy this nasty thing that came from my imagination. not proof read or anything so pls excuse my typos!

sometimes, your job could be a godsend. who knew that a simple job at the local hair store would catapult you into meeting one of the sexiest men you’d ever seen?

to be completely honest, it wasn’t solely your job that sparked such an interaction. it was moreso you; you possessed an irresistible, unmistakable charm that was impossible to ignore. your voice, soft as a lullaby, held a dulcet quality that drew people in like a magnet. anytime you opened your mouth to speak, you commanded attention effortlessly, as if your words held some mystical power that captivated any listener.

everyone was always drawn to you, and it wasn't hard to see why. who in their right mind wouldn’t be smitten? you were a vision of beauty, with your radiant brown skin that seemed to glow as if illuminated from within. your smile, perfect and white, could light up even the darkest room, making hearts skip a beat. your eyes were another story altogether. they seemed to sparkle, glimmering with an intensity that was all yours.

your hair was always done, you always made sure that you had a fresh set of lashes. to add, you never forgot to apply your clear lip gloss. now, this wasn't just any gloss, it was your signature, lip gloss added a radiant shine and highlighted the natural beauty of your plump and full lips. your lips, always so perfectly glossed, assumed an irresistible charm that made them look especially appetizing.

to add onto it, your personality was in tip top shape, matching your looks. while sometimes your mouth could get a little reckless, you had an air of kindness, professionalism and just genuine good vibes. it was hard to dislike you, no matter the case. you were a woman of wonders.

you loved your job at the hair store too; maybe that was why your attitude was always good while you were there. it paid well, the hours were flexible and it was something you enjoyed. you loved how your manager let you pick out the wigs and the outfits that would be displayed, and sometimes she let you take home left over makeup and jewelry — which was how you got your favorite set of hoop earrings.

working at the hair store also granted you all types of experiences. sometimes you met upcoming make-up artists and beauticians, hair dressers, nail techs, lash techs — you always made sure to be extra helpful and friendly to everyone you met, just in case they could ever help you.

or… on the rare occasion, you met men. often, they were coming in for their wives, daughters, sisters, nieces, friends — and each time, they were clueless. of course, you helped, breezing past them with the smell of bubblegum and perfume, preferably daisy by marc jacobs.

today was no different.

you were the only one working in the store this saturday, and it was roughly around 12 in the afternoon. the sound of needed me by rihanna echoed through the store, giving it a nice ambiance. you clocked in at 9, and were scheduled to get off at 4 — you had a bit of a long day ahead. however, the store had been a bit slow today. not many customers entered; maybe three every hour, compared to a usual 7-15 people per hour. you were both grateful and a bit sad for the lack of people, as it left you with extra time on your hands.

instead, you found yourself thinking of your six year old daughter at home. alaina, your sweet girl, who was at her grandmother’s for the day. you fondly rubbed the bead bracelet she made for you, that spelled out mommy. your daughter was the most loving child you knew, and you adored her with every part of you.

as you gazed at your bracelet, you let out a soft hum. you’d have to get her another one from here, even though she already had a plethora. whatever you got from the hair store, you usually shared with alaina.

the entrance bell dinging had you snapping out of your thoughts of your daughter, turning your head to greet whoever entered. your boxbraids slid down your back as you looked. it was a little girl who entered, no more than nine. she was in a cute blue dress, with dark brown hair pulled into a ponytail. her cheeks were rosy, which had you cooing at her mentally.

“hi baby,” you called out to her, looking behind her for a parent, “where’s ya mama, hm? a lil’ one like you shouldn’t be walking around all alone.” the girl hadn’t noticed you, and jumped when you called to her. she put her hands up, waving them enthusiastically. “o-oh no, miss, i’m with my dad! he’s just getting his wallet. do you know where the nails are? and the makeup?”

you smiled at the little girl, stepping from behind the counter. you were in a beige sun dress, with some matching wedged sandals. the sundress was long, coming down to your ankles, but there was a slit on the side. it hugged your curves nicely, even though your little bit of pudge was much noticeable; you didn’t care. to be honest, the dress covered way more than your usual outfits, especially in the summer like this. you had never been scared to show your body, even after you had alaina and people insisted on you covering up; because you were a mother now. however, you didn’t give a fuck. if you wanted to wear your shortest shorts, you would.

“c’mere baby girl, it’s this way.” you offered the young girl your hand, which she took happily as you led her. “i’m assuming you’re looking for the press ons, right? not the ones you glue?”

the girl gave you an enthusiastic nod. “yes, ma’am!” she was polite, you noted, with a curl of your lips. her father must be raising her right. “my dad says i’m not big enough to ruin my nails with glue..”

you let out a laugh as you squeezed the girl’s hand. “your daddy’s right,” you mused, “stick to the ones you can press til you become a teenager.” you brought her to the kiddie nails, and stood with her while she made her pick.

the young girl seemed stuck between a pair of pink ones leopard print ones, and blue zebra print ones. “what do you think, miss? i can’t choose.”

you only gave the girl a shrug. “i say get both. let ya daddy worry, not you.” however, because you liked this little girl, you’d only charge her for one anyways. the girl nodded in agreement, giving you a giggle, which you quickly reciprocated.

all of a sudden, you heard the gruff call of, “tsumiki! where have you ran off to?” the girl perked up immediately, and ran to the end of the aisle. “dad! i’m over here!” she called, waiting patiently for him to come over.

you raised your eyebrow as you made your way over. you were a bit curious to see the man who had raised such a sweet and polite girl. as you reached the end, your eyes widened as they set on the man.

he was tall, unbelievably so. his towering stature, reaching at least 6’2, must’ve made him stand out in any crowd. his body was muscular, brawny and well-built, and t he black compression shirt he wore clung to his chiseled frame, accentuating the broadness of his shoulders. his hair, a deep black, was just a bit shaggy — the perfect length to frame his strikingly sharp face.

his eyes were a vivid green, so piercing that they could make anyone feel as if they were the only person in the world. they locked onto you and tsumiki. his attractiveness was lethal, and it was impossible not to notice the way he looked over you. his gaze was slow, lingering, and purposeful, almost as if he wanted to make sure you noticed his attention.

you would’ve been phased if you were a different woman; but you weren’t. instead, you gave him your trademark smile, looking up at him with a warm aura.

a scar sat on the corner of his lip. it twitched slightly as his lips curled into a smirk, making him look even more attractive to you then he already did.

“you work here?” came his deep, rough voice. it provoked goosebumps down your skin, but you didn’t allow yourself to show it.

“yup,” you answered, “sorry i wasn’t at the counter, i was helpin’ miss thing here pick out some new nails.” you watched toji’s mouth open, and held up a finger, “and yea, before you ask — it’s the press ons. no glue needed.” the man let out a hum and gave a nod of approval.

“good. tsumiki, go put those on the counter and if you want anything else, ya better pick before i get back up there.” he told her; his voice was rough, yet still somehow sounded caring. when tsumiki scampered away with an, “okayyy!”, he turned his vision back to you.

the once over he gave you earlier didn’t seem to be enough. he gave you another; from your champagne blond knotless boxbraids which were long and down your back, curving over the swell of your ass, down to your painted white toes in your sandals. shit. you were fucking hot.

“how old are you?” he asked boldly, not wasting a second.

you raised an eyebrow, “you ain’t ever heard it ain’t good to ask a lady her age?”

“so old enough,” he countered back with a smug smirk. “have you been able to drink legally for at least two years?” still asking your age without pointedly asking like before.

“i’ve been old enough to drink legally for five years,” you relented, “so like i said, old enough. why you askin’?”

“i like to know the ages of my women before i hit on ‘em.”

you grinned. you already knew you were going to like this man, and his attitude towards you solidified that. “and i like to know the age of my men before i let them,” you combatted.

“thirty-four,” he answered immediately, and the corner of your lips pulled up in satisfaction. twenty-six and thirty-four. not a bad age gap, only eight years. you could manage.

“you allowed to hit on me now,” you said playfully as you slid past him, “don’t make the shit corny, ‘cause i’ll laugh at yo ass.” maybe that’s his plan, you thought, him tryna laugh me out my panties.

the man let out a bark of a laugh, following after you. you could almost feel his eyes locked on you as your hips swayed while you walked. he only chuckled out, “oh, don’t worry about that.”

you went back behind the counter, ready to pay for their things. tsumiki had thrown a stack of bracelets on the counter, and a new tube of sparkly pink lip gloss to which you scanned and then only scanned a pack of the nails. her father raised an eyebrow at you, but you pretended not to notice. “that’ll be 18.75,” you informed. her father pulled out thirty dollars and slid it to you. as you prepared to give him the change, he shook his head.

“don’t need the change. consider it a tip or somethin’.” you furrowed your brows at him, but didn’t question the customer. instead, you handed them their things with a sweet smile. “bye, lil’ missy,” you told tsumiki, before looking up at the man, “come back soon.” your voice was low, and quite flirtatious. he gave you a smirk.

“oh, i will.”

and he did.

it was three days later when he finally came back. you were leaned over the counter, examining your new nails. it was hot, too hot to even be working. the doors were open, and the AC’s were blasting, trying to cool off the store. you wore a jean miniskirt, with a fat gucci belt on your hips. you paired it with a cropped pink tank top that had a deep v-neck, showing off a bit of your cleavage. your golden nameplate sat perfectly on the apex of your breasts. today on your feet instead of sandals were your pair of pink and white dunks. you had taken out your box braids, and gotten your hair done the same day you got your nails done.

now, you had gotten a lace front installed — and you looked good as fuck. it was a deep shade of vibrant purple, down your back. you had added your own spin, doing one of those heart shaped parts and gelling it down the side of your forehead, and doing edges on the side.

as someone entered, you turned your head to the side to greet them. “good afternoon,” you said cheerfully, looking at the woman who entered. she was dark skinned, with a bumped bob. her makeup was done sharply. you watched as she side eyed you, and muttered out a terse, “hello.”

immediately your eyebrows furrowed. “bitches got an attitude, okay,” you grumbled under your breath as she disappeared into the aisles. it was a few minutes later when she came to the register with a flat iron. off the rip, you told her, “oh mama, you don’t want this one. a few people who purchased this one have said that it heat up too quick and smoke a lot, then breaks. so go ‘head and get another one.”

the woman glared at you, looking you up and down. “excuse me, i didn’t ask for your opinion on what i’m buying. and if it’s so faulty, why haven’t you taken it off the shelves?”

her attitude immediately had you tilting your head, trying your best to bite your tongue. “ma’am, that ain’t my job, i don’t do merchandise, i work at the register.”

she rolled her eyes at you, before snapping out, “then don’t say anything about said merchandise.”

your next words came out before you could even think about it, “ho, i’m tryna help you not burn this crispy fuck ass bob off but okay.” upon realizing what you said, you didn’t apologize nor change. instead you cocked your head, tilting it, while staring at her blankly.

“excuse me?” the woman asked, “honestly, i don’t think i’m taking hair advice from a woman who don’t wear hers natural, and has her skirt digging up her ass. how old are you? you have to have a child at home, dress with more fucking class before you talk about me,” the woman’s face was twisted as she snapped at you.

“i know damn fuckin’ well,” you said slowly — and just like that, you knew you were about to cuss her ass out. “i know DAMN fucking well that you’re not talking to me like that. bitch, are you mad that your ass built like a fuckin’ square? bitch be mad then cause that’s why yo ass slope like y=mx+b. bitch, don’t you EVER question my fashion choices when you’re wearing leather in 87 degree weather. you fuckin’ cereal box built ass bitch, you know what, i got a trick for you—“ you quickly took the flat iron from her and pointed a nail at the door. “now get the fuck out, bitch you’re banned.” the woman opened her mouth to retort, but you were faster, talking over her, “bitch, i don’t give a FUCK. get the fuck out.”

the woman mumbled a, “ghetto bitch.” before storming out the store while you massaged your temples. it was nothing you hadn’t heard though. “fuck be wrong with bitches. man, i need a fucking BLUNT.”

“personally, i would’ve hopped over the counter.”

you looked up at the familiar voice, seeing the man you met the other day. immediately, a grin spread across your face. “look who came back.”

“told ‘ya that i would.” he mused, walking up to the counter, “you should’ve thrown the flat iron at her face. i would’ve paid money to see that.” he wore a white wifebeater and black basketball shorts. did he just come from the gym or something? the lack of clothing allowed you to see just about all of his muscles, and god, were you pleased.

you snorted, giving him a playful eyeroll. “shit, i was fuckin’ thinking about it. you saw the whole thing?” the mystery man, who you decided to dub mr. man, gave you a nod. “positively. you cleaned her so beautifully, and i have to add, you look so, so appealing when you’re angry.”

“shut up, nigga,” you laughed as you put your elbows on the counter, cupping your face with both hands. “what’re you here for?” you looked up at him, and he mimicked your action, fitting his fat ass arms on the counter.

“i need some hair gel for my son. he’s in this spiky phase, shit, i don’t know,” mr. man rolled his eyes a little bit, before adding, “and i don’t know which to pick. as you can clearly see, i don’t use gel.”

you let out another laugh, coming from behind the counter. “yeah, c’mon mr. man, i’ll show you which to use.” off the rip, you noticed how his eyes locked on your body.

yeah, i got it like that, nigga, your inner thoughts said as you internally hyped yourself up.

“mr.man?” he questioned from behind you, his eyes focused on the way your hips swayed, and the way a little bit of your ass was uncovered by the skirt.

“well, you never told me your name, so i gave you a nickname.”

he snorted a little before saying, “well, my name’s toji, for one.” you thought about it for a second for a second. was that a moanable name? you went through it in your head. yeah. definitely moanable.

“my name y/n,” you finally disclosed, “but everybody just call me n/n.” toji nodded a little. “n/n… that’s cute.” you noticed one of the items had fallen off the shelf, and without hesitation, you bent over to pick it up, completely forgetting about the fact that you were wearing a skirt, and the man behind you.

toji almost had a fucking heart attack. his eyes zoomed in onto your now slightly revealed ass, your sheer red panties that showed the plush outline of your pussy. shit. shit. it was over in a second, much to his mixed chagrin and gratefulness. however, he wasn’t some boy — he maintained a straight face and control. you placed the item back on the shelf and resumed walking.

“alright,” you said, as you reached the gels, “see, here’s what i use for my daughter,” you held up a jar of eco. “eco holds good for her, and it lasts long, to be honest. her hair is a bit thicker. and it doesn’t have like color residue like prostyle gel.” you grabbed the black container of prostyle gel. “but if your son has like brown-black hair, it’ll be good.” toji shook his head, saying, “nah, he has that weird bluish-black.” you tutted and put the prostyle down.

“there’s also gorilla snot gel, which i recommend if his hair is straighter, you feel me?” you held up the yellow bottle of gorilla snot.

toji looked at both and let out a short groan. “i can’t decide. i’ll take ‘em both and see which works better.” you shrugged and passed them to him. you took note of how positively huge his hands were. they could probably cover your whole face. or… your entire ass.

“i didn’t know you had a little runt too,” he made conversation with you as you walked back to the counter, “i forgot you’re almost 30.”

“yeah i forget too, trust,” you laughed a little, “my little girl’s my pride and joy, her name’s alaina. she’ll be starting first grade this year, i’m so proud of her. i actually got pictures.” you pulled out your phone and showed him your lockscreen which was the two of you. toji chuckled.

“y’all look alike, cute,” he commented, “my son’s seven, and tsumiki’s eight. you met her last time.” you fondly recalled your encounter with the polite young girl. “you a single parent, too?”

you gave him a nod, and a shrug. “alaina’s daddy claimed he wanted nothing to do with her, so i kept it like that. then his stupid ass got locked up, thank riddance.” toji let out a short laugh. “tsumiki’s mom was my first wife, and we divorced. megumi, my son, his mom was my second. unfortunately, she passed.”

“aw,” you said, pouting sadly and placing a hand on his large arm. “i’m so sorry for your loss, sweetheart. i hope you’re doing alright.”

toji laughed a little. “i’m fine, pretty mama, don’t worry about me.”

you bristled at the new nickname, giving toji a wicked grin. “that’s how you referring to me now?” you asked, as you slid behind the counter to the register.

“you’re pretty, and you’re a mama,” toji said with a shrug. “it honestly only fits.” you very pointedly made sure to check him out and said, “mmhmm..”

as you rung him up, toji said, “does alaina need any new friends? my son’s a bit shy and doesn’t talk to nobody but his sister… maybe they could have a few play dates?”

“yeah, i’d love that!” you answered, a genuine smile coming onto your face. anything referring to your daughter made you happiest. “your total is 14.95. here i’ll give you my number...” as toji paid, you rang it up. on his receipt, you wrote your number and passed it to him.

toji grinned and gave you a nod. “see you around.” you wiggled your fingers in return.

see him around, you did. you and toji were quick to hook up play dates whenever your schedules aligned. you became familiar with the routine of getting off work in the afternoons and scooping alaina’s to head to toji’s to play with her two new best friends.

you and toji often stayed downstairs, while they played in tsumiki’s room. you and toji would watch movies, roll blunts and eat food — or sometimes even play texas hold ‘em, in which you won every single time.

toji would grumble, and accuse you of cheating, when in truth, he was really just a bad gambler, but all was well. you considered toji a good friend… of sorts.

because that’s what you two were; friends. friends who sometimes flirted a little; you considered toji a friend when you’d bend over to pick things up in those skimpy jean shorts you wore; toji considered you a friend when he’d slide past you, pressing his crotch against the curve of your ass and muttering a, “excuse me, n/n,”; you considered toji a friend when you’d play sexyyred and say the lyrics a little too… forceful; and he considered you a friend when he’d make slick little sexy comments about your body before adding, “that’s just what other guys think.”

safe to say… there was a bit of tension between you two. and finally, it came to a crescendo.

it was normal, at first. like usual, you and alaina were at toji's house. it was around 9:30pm, and the kids had collapsed after playing all damn day and finally having a meal of chicken nuggets. you remembered the look on your face discovered them. they were heaped in the large bed; tsumiki had more than enough room for all three of them, yet they were together. alaina was draped over megumi and tsumiki, her face in megumi’s chest but her body pressed to tsumiki’s. they were all tangled up, limbs skewed and whatnot.

and now, you and toji were together downstairs, toji watching as your nimble fingers crafted the blunt — his were too fat. your feet were in his lap, and he was watching you with those bright green eyes. as you rolled, you were mumbling one of sexyy’s songs. “fuck me like you mad at me, baby.. i need that dick to drive me crazyyyyy…” you sang under your breath.

toji raised an eyebrow at you, “the music you listen to has some really… meaningful words.” as you licked at the blunt, you let out a laugh. “i agree with everything she say. when suki said that if you ain’t eating coochie, you ain’t fucking, i felt that one.”

finally, you perfected it and grabbed toji’s lighter. “you only fuck eaters?” he said, amusement trickling through his voice. you lit the blunt and took a deep inhale, masterfully blowing it up into your nose and then out again before passing it to him. “yup. only fuck eaters ‘cause they do it the best. you an eater, toji?” you asked pointedly, watching as one of his rough hands drew circles on your leg, then up to your knee, while the other lifted the blunt to his lips. he took an inhale, then another. god, you hated double hitters, but it was okay — it was only you two.

“wouldn’t you like to know?” toji shot back, his trademark smirk sliding across his face. his lip twitched, scar jumping.

“that’s why the fuck i asked you, toji,” you clapped back immediately, making the older man squeeze your leg while passing the blunt back. “watch your mouth, n/n. don’t get fucked up.”

“or what?” you immediately retort, holding the blunt up to your lips as you took another puff. “you not gon’ do shit to me, toji, like i honestly wish you w—“ your words were halted by the man throwing your legs off his lap, one hand going to spread them roughly as he pressed his fingers against your clothed cunt.

“i’m not gonna do shit?” he repeated, as your eyes went wide; he had obviously startled you, but you weren’t opposed to this one bit. as his fingers rubbed at your pussy through your shorts, you shook your head feverently again, looking at him as you held the blunt to your glossed lips. “not a damn thing.”

when all toji did was nod, you were sure you were in for it. and you were. he was quicker than you, grabbing your hand that held the blunt and quickly forcing you to put the blunt in the ashtray. the smoke you were holding in your mouth was forcefully removed as toji roughly pressed his lips to yours, the smoke being shared between you two as he pried your lips apart.

the next few minutes were coated in a needy haze. his big hands were everywhere, all over your body. moving to squeeze at your tits, your ass, your thighs. eventually the settled on the waistband of your shorts and began to unbutton them. before pulling them off completely, leaving you in your lacy dark blue thong.

he pinched the plush of your pussy, barely hidden by the panties — more like decorated by it. immediately, the scent of your slick, which was already dripping, filled toji’s nostrils, making him let out a wanton moan.

“fuck, mama,” he hissed as he trailed his finger down your slit, “you always this wet? this is how you’ve been the entire time?” he looked up at you, eyes darkened with lust.

“no,” you lied immediately, giving him a reckless smirk. “she just like that off the rip. i determine whether it’s for you or not.” toji only let out a little laugh. “word?” he asked. you opened your mouth to repeat the word back to him, but you were rudely interrupted by him slapping your pussy.

it wasn’t hard, but it wasn’t exactly soft, the pain sending sparks of pleasure through you. you hissed out a, “shit..” toji smirked at your reaction as he pushed your panties to the side, before delivering another smack, this time a litle harder. you let out a mewl, squirming in his hold.

“crazy,” toji said to you, “two lil’ slaps just made you leagues wetter. you sure you’re not wet for me?”

you refused to answer, only giving him a shrug. “so you wanna be a brat now, huh?” he asked you with an eyebrow raise as he began to pull the panties down your thighs. “like you weren’t jus’ all over me. ‘toji, you a eater?’” he mocked you in a high pitched voice as he pulled you forward, legs sliding over his broad shoulders. you remained silent, biting your tongue. maybe you were a brat; you knew that with toji’s strength and stamina, you would get much more if you drew it out. plus, you wanted to make him work for every moan, every word.

“you gon eat my pussy or not?” you asked boldly, your hand going to lace through his hair, nails pressing against his scalp. “like literally, shut the f—!” you were interrupted by toji latching his mouth onto you, completely ripping the words from your mouth.

his tongue, long and flat, slid between your plush folds, calloused hands digging into your thighs as he shoved his face between your legs. off the rip, his motions were rough and quick, tongue swirling against your clit before going down to your hole, curling against it to lap at your essence. you gripped the couch as you let out soft moans, trying not to be too loud — you didn’t wanna fuel toji’s already large ego.

“fuck,” he mumbled as he pulled away, “pussy’s so sweet, baby. i should’ve bent you over in that fucking store the day you wore that skirt.” you were unable to respond before he was diving back in, tongue messily trailing througu your pussy. he was there between your thighs, feasting on what you offered, lapping up all the sweet nectar you had to spare. his lips latched onto the delicate bud of your clit, sucking with a fervor that left you gasping, while he looked up at you with a gaze that was as heated as it was prideful.

one of your hands found its way into his hair, tangling in the soft locks as you gripped it tightly, the other clutching onto the plush fabric of the couch as though it was your only lifeline. your breaths were coming out in ragged gasps, each one harder to catch than the last, your mouth falling open in that perfect 'o' shape as you let out sounds so sweet and melodious, singing a song of pure pleasure just for him.

and you couldn’t help it; euphoria was pulsing through your body, coating your thoughts in nothing but toji. your toes curled, as toji slid his tongue inside of you. god, he was so messy, your slick already all over his face, his spit mixing with your slick as it trailed down your ass.

you were incessantly moaning, unable to even downplay or disguise it anymore. “s-shit, toji, fuck, that feels so good—!” he looked up at you with satisfaction as he slid his tongue into your entrance, curling it upwards against your walls.

you squealed, trying to scoot backwards away from the pleasure, but he was quick to yank you back, trapping you against his mouth, his hands coming to wrap around your thighs. one of his fingers traced the stretch marks on your thighs. he worked his fat tongue inside of you, curling and sliding as his pointer finger swirled your clit at such a fast pace, you was sure he was gonna give you something close to a rug burn.

his paired actions had you spiraling over the edge, the coil in your stomach stretching and stretching until it was ready to snap. “toji, ‘m close—! fuck, fuck— gonna cum!” toji’s movements became much more insistent, gaining in speed as he basically shoved you over the edge.

your orgasm hit you like a brick, your back arching off the couch as you gripped toji’s hair tightly, whined babbles of repeated words leaving your lips. if it weren’t for toji holding you down and anchoring you, you were sure that you would’ve grown fucking wings and soared away.

you creamed all over his tongue, and he made sure to pull away, before messily spreading it throughout your pussy, just to lap it all up over again, letting you settle, working you through the after effects of your climax.

you sucked in ragged gasps as toji pulled away, licking his lips and wiping his face. he stared at you with such intensity, shivers went down your skin. your eyes immediately focused on his hard dick through his sweats, the outline prominent. you tapped your foot on his thigh. “gimme that,” you breathed.

“do you deserve it?” toji said back, his voice a bit raspy. “been a bratty slut this whole time. you were so cocky, remember? i don’t get you wet, right?”

you wanted to maintain your pride, you really, really did. but desperate times called for desperate measures. “c’mon, toji,” you sighed sultrily, “i was just playin’.. just wanted to make it a little fun for you, you know that..” you spread your legs a little more, teasing him as you continued, “it’s all yours, i swear — been waiting for this for such a long time.”

toji only gave you a soft chuckle and the only words gave you were, “that right, baby?” immediately, he scooped you up with a single arm, flipping you over onto your hands and knees. you let out a noise of surprise, but immediately arched your back, looking back at him as he pushed his sweats down his thighs. his dick sprung up, and you couldn’t say you were shocked by it.

his dick was both fat and long, and it almost made your eyes pop out of your head. he had to be at least eight inches, veins running up the side of his heavy dick. his tip was a dark apricot shade, and it was leaking bad, opaque beads of precum sliding out of his slit. he was well trimmed, with heavy breeder balls. you almost salivated. but at the same time, you questioned how all that was even supposed to fit in you.

he seemed to know exactly what you were thinking. “don’t you worry, princess. you’ll take every inch of me.” one of his hands gripped your ass, spreading your cheeks apart as he directed his tip against your entrance, slapping it there a few times, making you groan in need. “t-toji, stop fuckin’ playin—!”

once again, you were rudely interrupted by him pushing the tip inside of you. he let out a hiss, your walls sucking him in. however, with just how wet you were, he slid right back out. he let out a snicker as he leaned his hand down to slap your pussy again. “but you not wet for me, alright..” he lined himself up again, and this time — he didn’t push into you slowly.

with one rough thrust, he filled you to the brim, forcing you forward as you let out a strangled noise, clawing at the couch. “toji! oh fuck..!” you pulled your hips forward, trying to get him to pull out a little, but he wasn’t having it. “s-shit, i’m not even all the way in yet,” he huffed, hair hanging in his eyes. toji was letting out pants, it felt as if your pussy was fucking suffocating his dick, strangling it.

inch by inch, he pushed the rest of his dick in, until the plush of your ass was nestled against his pelvis and stomach. he yanked at his shirt, pulling it off of his body. your slick was already coating him, dripping down to his balls. you were a mess, mewling just from him entering. you felt so full — his dick stuffing you better than you ever had been before. and it was driving you out your mind.

toji didn’t wait for you to adjust. with one hand on your ass, thumb rubbing against the ridges and dimples, and the other lacing through purple hair, toji pulled all the way out, and then slammed all the way back in. the force of his motions shoved you down into the couch, and immediately you let out a cry of, “t-toji! slow down!”

but slowing down wasn’t apart of his agenda. he rasped out, “nah, this is what you wanted, baby. so take it. take my dick like a good fuckin’ girl.” he began snapping his hips into you, the veins on his dick dragging against your walls just right. your cunt clamped down on him every time he tried to pull out, as if it was forcing him to make your cunt his new home.

toji was mesmerized by the way your ass jiggled and clapped with every movement he made, the sound of your skin slapping filling the air. he slapped your ass hard and then squeezed, making you squeal once more. “fuck, look at you. bouncing this ass back on my dick so good..”

at his praise, you looked back at him before proudly twerking back on his dick, putting on a little show. he laughed, his hand trailing from your hair to snake around your throat. “such a fuckin’ slut,” he said gruffly, before pulling his hips back so that only the tip was inside before ramming his dick back inside of you.

you felt him nudge against your cervix, and you let out a noise close to a scream, while his hand tightened around your throat. tears filled your eyes at the pain, your lashes beginning to slide. “you’re gonna wake up the kids, princess. wouldn’t want them to come down to seeing you getting fucked like some whore, right? keep that pretty mouth quiet.” he leaned down, chest pressing against your back as he curled his much larger body against yours. “but not too quiet. wanna hear you lose your fucking brain over this dick.”

his other hand came to wrap around your throat, and he began to jack hammer into you, slamming you on his dick over and over. your eyes rolled back, a mix of pain and pleasure twisting through you, that coil getting ready to snap again. “t-toji…” you slurred out, “g-gonna fuckin’ cum again…!”

“so fucking do it,” toji hissed as your clenching began to get more intense. “paint my shit, baby.” his voice was sending shivers down your spine, aiding your increasing pleasure. you let out ragged moans into the couch as your body trembled, pussy spasming wildly around his dick as you came a second time.

he didn’t slow down through your orgasm, instead, he went faster, if that was even humanly possible. he pressed down on your head, forcing your face into the couch, and pressing on your belly simultaneously. it forced you to have a deeper arch, but it also made you feel just how deep he was inside of you. pressing his big hand against your stomach to feel his bulge had toji grinning.

you were a wreck, tears sliding down your face, your lashes long fallen of. you were pretty sure your lace had peeled, but you didn’t care. you could barely think, barely form coherent sentences with how toji was fucking you. and he knew it. he knew he reduced you to a mess, and he wasn’t even halfway finished with you.

soon, he felt his orgasm coming, and he let out a deep groan. “shit.. where do you want my cum, doll? ‘m getting close..” you were quick to whine out, “i-inside, toji.. want you to cum inside…!”

“haah!” he grunted out with a smirk, “want me to fill you up, huh? want me to stuff you full with my cum? yeah, i bet you fucking do, look at you.”

“toji, toji, toji, fuckkk.. want your babies, c’mon, make me a mama again—!” toji laughed shakily at your dumb response, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “fuck yeah, dollface. you better not spill not one drop, alright?” he let out a strangled moan as he released, his thick cum filling her to the walls.

you sucked in harsh breaths, finally feeling relieved after toji’s constant fucking stopped. he seemed to slow down, gently fucking his load into you. you began to relax… however you were sorely mistaken.

“you thought i was done with you?” toji asked as he gripped you, flipping you over so that he could see your face. you looked a mess, but you were so, so pretty. your eyes were watery, face with tear trails all over. your lips were bruised from how much you’d been biting them. at least your hair was still intact… for now. toji leaned down and pressed a kiss to your jawline, down to your throat. he yanked at the top you wore, and when it didn’t want to cooperate, he ripped it and peeled it off of you himself. “toji, my shirt….” you whimpered but he dismissively waved a hand. “you’ll get one of mine.” he reached behind you, unclipping your bra and letting your tits spring free.

his big hands almost swallowed them as he began to leave bites and kisses all over your throat, collarbone and chest. “can’t possibly be done with you,” he said against your skin, “been waiting to fuck you like this since i laid eyes on you, doll.”

he left a plethora of hickies on your skin, very obviously marking you as his. you were still speared on his dick, and he began to roll his hips languidly inside of you, curving into your g-spot repeatedly. the feeling had you seeing stars as he gripped your legs and pulled them around his waist. with each thrust, he began to get more forceful and speed up, until once more, he was pounding your insides.

your nails went to his back, scratching, making toji wince in pain as his hips collided with yours. three of your nails had broken off. a third time, you felt yourself reach your climax once more, but it felt different. painful almost, with the last your clit throbbed. you managed to push away the toji-shaped clouds in your brain and realized.

“t-toji—! toji, ‘m gonna squirt!” you cried out as you twisted in his hold, the pleasure becoming overwhelming for you. “t-toji—!” he only smirked at you, yanking you closer. “make a mess f’me, mama. wanna see you get all messy… c’mon, c’mon, make that pretty pussy squirt on my dick.” he pressed another messy kiss to your lips as his hand snuck down to rub your clit, forcing more pleasure into your system. you let out a ruined, gasped noise — like you wanted to scream but couldn’t get it out. clear liquid gushed from you, coating toji’s lower half, some of his abdomen and the couch.

you were in too much of a haze to notice that soon after, toji came inside of you a second time. he didn’t pull out at first, instead opting to lay his head against your sweaty skin, pressing kisses. he realized that you would be completely gone for a bit, after that, so he was gentler with you. he pulled out, watching his cum slowly dribble from your hole after the two creampies he gave you. not wanting you to sit in your own fluids, picked you up and brought you to his room, putting you one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers before tucking you in.

he went back downstairs, eyes locked on the mess you made on the couch. a soft whistle escaped as he plucked your lashes off the sofa and put them on the table.

you probably wouldn’t become his girlfriend yet; but you damn for sure weren’t going anywhere now.

#jjk #jjk x reader #⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱​ jazi writes #jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji smut #toji x you #jjk x black fem reader #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #jjk x black reader #black fem reader #black reader #⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱​ jazi writes #toji x y/n #toji x black reader #toji x black y/n #toji x female reader #🎧

[hannieehaee]

Can you please make a seventeen reaction if a saesang hurt their s/o? lysm btw💙

a sasaeng hurting their s/o

content: mentions of an ambiguous attack on the reader (u can assume it was something like pulling at reader's arm/hair or a simple slap/punch), anger from the members, angst, fluff (kinda??), etc.

wc: 829

a/n: ily <33 i was kinda conflicted on this bc im not sure whether theyd react in an idol fashion in which they just kind of let their managers handle it or if theyd handle it themselves so i went for a mixture

masterlist

seungcheol -

he's super protective over his members, which also translates over to all his loved ones. i think he would get immediately exasperated and get all up on whoever dared hurt you, fan or not. if things got physical, he'd get physical too. however, he'd try to keep things civilized.

jeonghan -

he'd let his managers handle the sasaeng, knowing that despite how much he'd like to protect you on his own, head on, he had a lot of limitations as an idol. he'd feel extremely guilty about it and would beat himself up over it for a while. would do everything he could to make you feel protected and taken care of (even more than he already did) from then on.

joshua -

he'd be unfiltered in his arguing and his anger towards the aggressor. he wouldnt get aggressive or anything, but the venom in his eyes would be enough for a person to drop dead. would go as far as try to get the authorities involved right in that moment, promising that he'd be pressing charges on your behalf. when it came to you, he'd need you to calm him down lol.

jun -

he's so used to being mobbed and to people injuring themselves due to this that he wouldn't even be surprised at this happening. this wouldnt mean that he wouldn't be insanely angry though lmao. he'd curse them out in chinese and start a whole scene if necessary. this person was not going to leave this situation unscathed.

soonyoung -

his emotions usually take over him very easily and i believe in such an instance anger would show clearly in his demeanor. he'd protectively hold you behind him as he cursed and antagonized the sasaeng while his managers attempted to alleviate the situation. there would be anger in his eyes that you'd never seen before, but it'd turn into worry and regret as soon as he met your eyes.

wonwoo -

usually when he's being crowded or fans are too close, his body language seems closed off and unwelcoming to all the unwarranted attention, but in this instance i think his fight or flight mode would activate, making him physically place himself between you and the aggressor. rare instance in which anyone would see wonwoo genuinely angry.

jihoon -

he'd be too shocked to react, only realizing what had happened after the fact. kinda out of character, but i think he'd have to be held back from taking matters into his own hands. would be furious at the blatant disrespect to both you and him. how could a fan ever lay hand on you? he'd remain disappointed in his fandom for a while, keeping himself (and you) away from the limelight for a short period of time.

seokmin -

for once in his life, the only emotion taking over him was pure unfiltered anger. BUT he would 100% prioritize checking in on you and keeping his hands and eyes on you to make sure you were okay. would let his managers take care of the situation and simply stare down the perpetrator with venom in his eyes. would be extremely apologetic to you afterwards and express guilt over and over.

mingyu -

he's shown many times before he's not afraid to tell fans to mind their boundaries before, so i think that in a serious situation in which you were being put in danger, he'd become extremely serious to a scary extent. he would not get physical or anything like that, but he'd use his words and stance to intimidate the crazed fan.

minghao -

extremely serious and put off. the moment someone laid hands on you, his body would take control of itself and put himself between you and any danger. he'd yell and curse at whoever dared cross such a boundary and disrespect both you and him in such a way. he'd hold certain disdain for fans crossing boundaries from then on.

seungkwan -

he's too polite and media trained to actually participate in the altercation, but anyone could see the genuine anger trying to filter out of him as he and his body guards tried to deal with the situation. his first priority would be you and making sure you weren't too hurt.

vernon -

he wouldve been too shocked in the moment to do anything, but as soon as the short-lived attack ended and his managers were already apprehending the perpetrator, he'd scoff and curse at whoever hurt you. there would be this unknown craze in his eyes indicating uncharacteristic anger that could only ever be provoked by such a situation.

chan -

insanely angry and frustrated at the situation. in an ideal world, he'd take care of this situation on his own, proving to you that he'd never let anyone hurt you. however, he knew that the appropriate thing to do would be to let his managers apprehend the aggressor while he checked in on you and made sure you were okay and as far away from the situation as possible.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen #seventeen imagine #svt #seventeen oneshot #svt reactions #seventeen reactions #svt imagines #svt scenarios #seventeen scenarios #svt angst #seventeen angst

[onyourowndaisymae]

when solomon falls in love

content + warnings: solomon x reader, angst with a happy ending, there is a deep sadness within solomon but i can fix him, minor discussions of s3 plot points // [masterlist]

word count: ~1.5k

the day solomon realizes he's in love with you is the worst day of his life, he thinks, in the first moment he realizes.

solomon's had a lot of terrible days. from simple ones-- caught in the rain, misplaced keys, harsh words spoken by people he cares about-- to life-altering, fate-changing hellish days. he's been around for centuries, and admittedly conjured himself up some pretty shitty karma. this day, however, tops the list.

because the moment solomon realizes he's in love with you is the moment he realizes he'll never have you.

it's a rare moment the both of you are sharing. the two of you are alone in a coffee shop in some quaint corner of the human realm. your trials with the sorcerer society have been wearing on you, so solomon saw it fitting to sweep his adorable little apprentice away for some well-deserved down time.

it's dawn here. sunlight peaks through the clouds, painting the gray skies a vibrant orange through the shop's large windows. the sunlight tickles your cheekbones, occasionally catching your eyes and making them flutter as you dodge the blinding sunbeams. how long has it been since solomon's seen you in the daylight? the devildom is beautiful, but it's dark and dim during all hours of the day. he's used to seeing you under city lights, shop signs and advertisements in neon colors dancing across your features. or under the warm-but-artificial house lights in all the buildings down there, cozy but not quite the same. no, you look best in daylight. golden, pure daylight, trickling through the cosmos just so he can see every detail on your face.

he wants to memorize you. he wants to etch your features into his brain so that he'll be able to remember you far into the future. the coming days are uncertain. licensure into the sorcerer's society is not exactly easy-- you'll have your work cut out for you if you continue down this path. maybe somewhere along the way you'll find yourself content instead with a simple life in the human realm, shedding the devildom like a winter coat in spring when your life begins a new chapter. he's always worried about you, about losing you, about a day when you'll bid him goodbye for good. obsessive? he likes to think of it as "sentimental". and he's never been this sentimental for anyone else but you.

you take a sip of your drink with a small smile. it's cold outside, the subtle chill of autumn beginning to fade into the biting cold of winter. the drink in your hands is warm, and you cup it between your between your palms for warmth. he smiles. his own drink is smooth and a little bitter. solomon he grabs the last sugar packet from the center of the table and dumps it in, swirling the mixture around the distribute the sweetness. then he folds the trash into a compact ball. there's a dink! as he flicks it at you, hitting your cheek gently before it falls onto the table. you laugh at his antics. it's the best sound he's ever heard.

"gotcha."

"what are you, seven?"

"you're just mad i have good aim."

"yeah, yeah, whatever, old man. do... do you mind if i ask you a question?"

"anything."

you proceed to ask him how he found this place. technically, it's not even in the country you're from... he laughs and explains how he found it. he likes when your attention is focused all in on him. your eyes get this certain glint to them as you listen, like he's the only person you care about in that moment. he'd kill to see that look anywhere else-- could you imagine the faces of the demon brothers should you look at him so attentively around them?

solomon swallows down the lump of jealousy rising in his throat. that's the thing. you don't look at him like that in front of anyone else.

his next sip of coffee tastes bitter, more so than before-- he can't blame the shop, nor the sugar packet for the taste, but instead the acid creeping up his throat from the mere displeasure of the idea. it's so very solomon to ruin his own good time with a nasty thought.

why?

why does he do this to himself? to cherish something so delicate even though he knows it will shatter under the weight of life's circumstances?

that's because solomon's in love with you. and love doesn't always listen to reason.

he has toyed around with the idea of loving you for awhile. he doesn't want to. he doesn't want to always be the petulant, lost child he once was, always reaching for things he was never destined to have. when he was young, he craved freedom. as an adult, power. and now, further along in his life, he wants you.

you seem to notice the sour look on his face. your eyebrows furrow as you ask him what's wrong. it's instinct that guides him to brush you off, to give you a big smile and feign attention into whatever you begin talking about next.

does he deserve you? probably not. his sins probably outweigh that of any lower demon. he's lied and cheated, fucked people over in ways unimaginable to someone like you. you're a blank slate, a clean ledger, yet to ruin your own life. or maybe you won't. you've always been better than him that way.

will he ever distance himself to heal from the wounds of unrequited love? probably not. he'll stick by your side as you inevitably choose one of the demon brothers or angels or royals over him-- he won't blame you. of all the fascinating people you've met, he understands the allure of a human like him is dim in comparison. no hard feelings. he can't ever seem to muster up anything sour towards you.

"are you listening?" you finally ask, loud enough to grab his attention. he shakes his head with a small chuckle.

"sorry. i'm... a bit scatterbrained today. what were you saying?"

you huff. "i was telling you a story, but i bent my straw too far and it broke."

you bend it again to show him the damage. sure enough, it's snapped under the weight of your fidgeting. solomon's lips curl into a sympathetic pout.

"i can grab you another."

"nah, it's okay. i've got it."

you rise from your seat and walk to the counter of the coffee place. solomon takes a deep breath and steals his resolve. all this self-loathing and pining is making him a bad friend, and you deserve much better than to talk to a brick wall. he sighs. so what if he's in love with you? so what if he's lost in the tumult of his own feelings? he needs to get it together and enjoy this time with you before you return to the devildom, and he has to share you aga--

"excuse me?"

"yes? how can i help you?"

"can i get another straw? oh, and can i get some more of those little sugar packets? my boyfriend used the last one on the table."

"of course! give me one moment--"

...

what?

his brain almost completely shuts down hearing those words leave your lips. he subtly looks around to see if anyone else is in the coffee shop-- there's a man in the corner reading his paper and two teenagers huddled over iced coffee. no, none of them are at your table, using the last sugar packet like he did, your boyfriend--

"close your mouth. you're attracting flies," you say quietly, sliding a few sugar packets over to him.

he's... flabbergasted, honestly. during the entirety of his downward spiral, never once did he anticipate this outcome. you... you wanted him?

his lips pull into a smirk-- it's more of a grin than he wanted, but he just can't help himself right now. he's damn near giddy at your indirect confession.

"boyfriend? you wouldn't happen to be referring to me, would you?"

"that's why you brought me here, right?"

that question catches him off-guard. honestly, no. he just wanted some time to breathe with you, without obligations or demons ready to pounce for your attention. but the way your lips curl around the straw between them makes his heart race.

"... and if i did?"

"then i would say this is a pretty good date spot. now, pay attention when i talk, old man."

as attentive as he aims to be, he just can't stop his mind from wandering. you're his. all of the fear and angst wash away as the sun shines brightly on your table, illuminating the delicate wood grain beneath his trembling fingers. and for once, solomon doesn't worry about what will happen if he lets himself love you.

maybe this day isn't so bad after all.

taglist for this series: @deepseafragments // @darkflowerav // @annoying-and-upset

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #otome #obey me fluff #obey me x reader #obey me solomon #obey me solomon x reader

[tired-teacher-blog]

So, Aizawa's neck is extremely sensitive. Yup I called it.

There is a reason why he conveniently keeps it wrapped in his capture weapon most of the time.

Finding out about it was purely coincidental, it was never your intention to brush your fingers along the pale skin when you reached out to tuck a loose strand behind his ear, you couldn't help it either, he looked breathtaking in a simple black tank top and similar colored sweatpants as he emerged after his evening shower.

What was meant to be an innocent gesture, soon turned into something else entirely when his breath suddenly hitched and goosebumps appeared where your fingers had touched.

It was a new and unexpected sight that triggered something within you, and you needed more of the sensation it had evoked..

_ "So even the incredible Mr Aizawa has a weakness like the rest of us huh?" you teased for the nth time as you tightened your grip on his wrists and pressed down on his throbbing bulge before diving in to suck another bright red spot on his once flawless neck, "you've kept it well hidden this far, I'm impressed."

It's no wonder to be frank, he has always been dominant and well guarded even with you, and it is unusual of him to show any sign of vulnerability, which is why you held on to this rare instant with all your might.

_ "Alright that's enough, you've had your fun haven't you?" he huffed in apparent annoyance but did nothing to stop you, and how easy would it have been for him to free himself of your clutches, had he truly wished to.

_ "Just a little more, please." you whined a plea and kissed his delicate skin again, relishing the strangled groans he so desperately sought to muffle.

_ "Whatever.." but his feigned indifference couldn't fool you.

How could it, when his restless hips unveiled his growing impatience for something more?

Divider by : @/saradika

#Assal! we'll have to talk more about this 😉 #aizawa shota x reader #aizawa shota x you #aizawa shota smut #aizawa shouta smut #aizawa shouta x you #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa headcanons #aizawa x reader #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x you #aizawa shouta fluff #aizawa shouta imagine #aizawa imagine #aizawa fluff #aizawa shouta headcanons #shouta aizawa smut #shouta aizawa imagine #mha fluff #bnha fluff