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#so i didn’t want it to seem like i was doing the same
starsofang · 3 days
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simon riley x deaf!reader
tw: none, literally just pure fluff
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“It’s just one date. I promise.”
You didn’t know how your friend had convinced you to go on a blind double date in the first place. In fact, you weren’t even the first choice, but when your friend came by to ask you to fill in for another girl who had bailed out last minute, you pity-agreed to help her out.
You weren’t sure if you were making the right choice. Dating wasn’t your thing, and you avoided it like it was the scum of the earth. Not to say you had bad experiences, per se, but you also didn’t have the best choice of men. None of them understood your situation to its fullest, but that was okay! You didn’t need their validation, and you were perfectly content with the way things were.
There was no harm in going on a fun date and having a few drinks and good food, you thought. One night, and you’d never have to see your blind date again.
Besides, your friend seemed to really be into her date from the way she’d gush about him after they met online (not your favorite choice, but you’d support her anyway), and you didn’t want to ruin that for her.
That’s what led you to be here, shoulder to shoulder with your friend as she rambled on about how excited she was with speedy hand gestures, how grateful she was that you came, that she’ll make sure your dinner and drinks are paid for. You weren’t exactly sure where the two of you were going, but judging from what she forced you to wear, it had to be a bit fancy and lavish.
You didn’t have the heart to tell her that was also not your favorite choice.
She guided you inside of the building, which was a preview of what was to come — high ceilings, ravishing decor, and low lighting that made everything much more romantic. You took in the fluorescent scenery as she spoke with the hostess. You didn’t know what they were saying, but as the waitress gestured with a hand for the two of you to follow, you assumed the two men were already there.
Your arm was looped loosely with your friend’s as the two of you walked after the hostess. When you approached a table, you took in the sight of one man that looked familiar — your friend’s date, a man with smooth, tanned skin and a smile that could cure sickness. The other man was new to you, and compared to your friend’s date — Kyle? — he was much more phlegmatic.
Kyle gave a polite nod towards you with a blinding smile, and you have one back, bowing your head in greeting. You sat next to your friend, watching as Kyle pulled out the chair for her, to which your date definitely didn’t do the same.
That was alright. You weren’t planning on making it past the first date anyway.
Your friend began to chatter with Kyle while you and your mystery date sat in silence. Your hands remained in your lap as your eyes scanned the menu that sat on the table.
Focused on appearing as busy as possible, you were unfortunately snapped out of it before it could last long when your friend nudged your shoulder with hers. When you looked up at her, she was smiling, and she lifted her hand to signal the man in front of you.
Blinking at him, you realized he was possibly trying to talk to you, and you shifted awkwardly. He probably thought you were rude.
“Sorry, Simon. I forgot to mention she’s deaf, so she didn’t know you were introducing yourself,” your friend apologized, and you watched as he stared at her before nodding in acknowledgment. “It won’t change anything, yeah?”
You sat in tense silence as you averted your eyes back to the menu. Your date had eyes that could pierce right through you if they wanted to, and you weren’t quite sure you wanted to be their next victim, date or not.
A phone screen was slid across the table from where you were studying the menu, and your eyes flickered to see a string of words typed out in the notes app.
“Sorry if that came off as rude. I’m Simon.”
Glancing up at him, you flashed him a smile that was relieved. He gave you an awkward one back, and you thought maybe he didn’t do it much.
You picked up his phone from where it sat in front of you and began typing out your response before slipping it back to him. You watched as he read it, a look of amusement in his eyes as he did so.
“Not rude at all. Sorry she didn’t tell you. You can back out if you’d like, I won’t take offense.”
Kyle and your friend were conversed in conversation with one another while Simon and you had your own back and forth.
“Why would I do that?” his next note read, and you tilted your head at him. He offered you a shrug, and your fingers tapped along his screen in return.
“Most men wouldn’t like being blindsided by not knowing their date is deaf.”
You saw his mouth part open when he read it, and you wondered if he was chuckling to himself. You wished you could hear it.
Was it deep? What if it was one of those contagious laughs that sounded like the literal gates of heaven opening up, and you wouldn’t ever have the chance of hearing it?
You didn’t have time to think about it when he placed the phone back in front of you, and when you glanced down, you couldn’t help but smile bashfully to yourself.
“A pretty girl’s a pretty girl. I’d be an idiot for backing out on the prettiest one I’ve had the gall to see over something like that.”
Fuck.
You weren’t supposed to like your date, much less so quickly. You only came for the food and for the sake of your friend’s happiness, but here you were, cheesing to yourself like a stupid teenager with a new crush.
But as the date continued, with the both of you eating alongside Kyle and your friend, shamelessly passing his phone back and forth and filling his notes app with evidence of your growing infatuation, you knew it wasn’t only for the food anymore.
He was sweet. Sure, it was all on paper (well, screen), and you told yourself to always be cautious with men.
But when he asked you out on a second date, then a third, you allowed your concrete walls to crumble.
And when he showed you the new signs he’d been working on so he could communicate with you on the fourth date, spelling out your name with cautious, slow fingers, eyes searching for your approval? You could’ve already married him then and there.
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luveline · 2 days
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more hotch with teacher!reader? maybe she’s trying to take a bunch of things into her classroom one morning and hotch jumps in to help (and flirt with) them :)) i adore you’re writing thank you for sharing sm with us lately!!!
you’re so welcome ily ty for requesting! <3 fem, 1k
Today, you and your class are going to make dioramas with a heavy focus on paper crafting. For the last few days, you’ve helped them make plans on what they want to create, and then you scoured the internet for origami and craft tutorials to suit. The only one you couldn’t find was for poor Jamie’s tractors. You’ll figure it out, you’re sure. 
You’ve been saving cardboard boxes, toilet roll inserts, and egg cartons for months. There’s a total mountain of things to bring in, so you’re here early. You figure if you carry huge armfuls, you can get everything inside in three trips. 
“Oh,” you say, as a cardboard box tumbles to the ground, and somehow doesn’t give you a clearer view, “whoops. I’ll pick that up. Jeez.” 
You step over it and almost slip. 
“Careful,” someone says. 
You jump and send an egg carton skittering across the floor. “Oh, gosh! You scared me!” You twist your head, the cardboard that had been resting on your face falling down into your collar. “Oh, Mr. Hotchner.” 
Of course it’s Mr. Hotchner. Aaron, predictably. 
“Aaron,” he says, leaning down to grab the things you’ve dropped, before he opens his arm toward you. You lean away from your tower, embarrassed but relieved when he takes the bulk of your tall tower from you. 
“Thank you, Aaron. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here so early. Is everything okay?” 
“Let me help you with this.” 
Avoiding the question. You and Aaron carry your cardboard inside to the classroom, where you unlock your door (and you never would’ve been able to do without his rescue). He follows you to the arts and crafts table toward the back of the room, and you deposit your stock. 
“Thank you,” you say when he places his armful down. 
“It’s no problem. Can I help with the rest?” 
“Would you, please?” you ask. “It seemed a lot less before today.” 
You bring the rest back in. He’s the picture of a perfect gentleman and carries more than you each time, which isn’t to say you can’t have carried the same as he did, but it’s nice for once to be the one looked after. As a teacher, you get used to giving. 
He doesn’t make you ask him twice. “I’m here early because I wanted to talk with you if you’re free, before I head into the office.” 
“His Aunt is bringing him today?” you ask about Jack. 
“I didn’t manage to get home in time last night to see him, but I’ll be here at pick up time.” 
You nod, hyper aware that you’d swayed the conversation again. “Sorry, what were you saying?” 
“It’s about Jack. Well, it’s mostly about me. I’d like to ask you for a favour, if you’re willing.” 
“Oh, sure. Of course.” 
“You haven’t heard it yet.” 
You flush under the weight of his knowing smile. “No, I mean, I’m sure it’ll be fine. So…” 
“It’s hard sometimes to get Jack to tell me what you’re doing in school. I had no idea he’d be making dioramas today. And I don’t need your lesson plans, I’d never expect that of you, but I was hoping you could summarise the week for me on Fridays? Or whenever you can. I don’t need updates on how Jack is progressing, it could be a couple of words on the topics you’ve chosen, just so I know what he’s doing while I’m away.” 
You’ve never been asked to do it. Parents of kids in the second grade aren’t usually clocked in on what their kids are learning. School is still half fun at this age, your most important job is to make sure they can all read with acceptable fluency. And it’s hard because their parents don’t help, but it’s fine. You love teaching them something so important, and you’re ecstatic to meet someone who’s actually interested. 
You beam. “Yeah, of course I can. I can do that, I don’t mind. Nobody ever wants to know what we’re doing, which is such a shame! I mean, they’re so excited and of course their parents care, but if they have just a little bit of support it makes a huge difference. I can totally send you my lesson plans, Aaron. I’d like to.” You laugh to yourself smugly. “I never get to show them off. They’re extensive. And they take ages.” 
“You want to show them off?” he asks softly. 
His voice is velveteen. 
“Is that awful?” you ask.
“No, it makes sense. You really don’t have to if it’s too much trouble, but I… feel guilty, when I call him and ask how school was, and he can’t remember what happened.” 
“Don’t feel bad about that. The kids can’t remember what I told them ten minutes ago.” 
He isn’t like you, in that he’s very still. He doesn’t move or fidget, which makes his looking at you all the more obvious. “Thank you,” he says. 
“You’re welcome.” 
“Can I pay you back?” 
You catch one of your bracelets and twist it around your wrist. 
Aaron told you without hesitation that he profiles criminals. He can read their expressions, habits, and idiosyncrasies as thoughts and feelings. He can trace movement to the source. You’re positive he wouldn’t keep asking you such leading questions, or insist you call him by his first name every time you see him, if he didn’t already know that you find him attractive. 
“How would you do that?” you ask. 
“Is there anything else you… need help with?” 
A million things, but you’re no idiot. You can read subtlety too. 
“Well, I have a bunch of textbooks on the top shelf in the stockroom you could help me with.” You smile shyly. “It gets hot in there, though.” 
He begins taking off his suit jacket. “That,” he says, his gaze on you with all the tenderness and amusement of someone who’s known you longer, “won’t be a problem.” 
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yxami · 3 days
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Yandere crybaby stalker! =^_^=
You felt eyes on you, you’ve been sensing this strange deja vu of a stare you could never find, it’s been happening more and more. The gut feeling in your stomach seems to churn, warning you of something that you have yet to discover.
As you entered the grocery store you heard rain pitter patter against the window, seeing the droplets run down the glass you decide to quickly finish this trip. You only needed eggs and butter, then you’d be out of here before it started storming.
You made it to the aisle, finding yourself alone in the aisle as you grabbed your desired brand of butter. In your peripheral view you see a person looking at packaged margarine a few feet away. You pay no mind and put the 3 pack you selected into your basket.
You were about to leave the aisle before you noticed a flash coming from the persons phone that strangely seemed to be facing you, you think of it as an accident but you do give a confused look at the person before leaving.
They seem to fumble to shove their phone away, pulling their hoodie more over their head.
Now, you just needed the eggs, you wonder only a bit about what that person might’ve been doing but you just wanted to go home and eat so you had no time to ponder about stupid shit.
You spend more minutes than you’d prefer on getting your choice of eggs, you wonder if you should get some snacks and as you were about to reach for a familiar bag of chips you see the same person from earlier in the new aisle you were in.
You get the creeps and decide to leave it and get a snack from a different section. Ironically and much to your dismay the stranger seems to appear in the same place at the very end of the shelves.
You think about to all the times you’ve felt a stare on you, and as you look away and pretend to be distracted with something the feeling is almost identical to what you’ve sense for the past week.
You shiver, not from the cold, but from the creepiness of the situation. You head quickly to a self check out station, grabbing your singular shopping bag after scanning and paying. You ignore the rain and head down the alley you always take when going home.
You could hear footsteps behind you, almost mimicking the same time your feet touched the ground. You look behind you, seeing nothing you continue. The hairs on the nape of your neck, making you feel more concerned
You didn’t have time for this bullshit.
You speed walk towards where you think the creep was, grabbing them by their hoodie and pull them to the ground. You realize it’s a guy with a stunned and confused expression as his face contorts into a scared one.
“Why have you been stalking me?” You say with a demanding tone, trying to sound confident even though your heart races in this empty place, sun setting on his figure as he almost shrinks in his hoodie. He hiccups, trying to respond.
He’s crying?
“I- I im sorry, I didn’t mean.. to st-“ His body forces himself to breathe, too quickly so it interrupts his words and makes him feel even more shameful. “I didn’t - i swear” He huffs, looking up you can finally see his face.
His glossy brown eyes only seem to water more when you seem frustrated and confused, it makes him sob more, he tries to stop, wiping his tears with his sleeves and biting down on his quivering lip.
“What do you mean you didn’t mean to? That doesn’t make sense, how do you mistakenly stalk someone?” You corner him even more, making him press his back into the brick wall edge, you weren’t trying to be harsh but you wanted answers.
“I’m- it’s just- I” He looks up at you, eyes flickering to view you before he gets even more embarrassing and fails to respond, ending up crying in his sleeves again.
Now you look like the bad guy, you’ve cornered this scared guy and he’s crying, you observe your surroundings, noticing nobody has taken the shortcut and walked in this empty alley just yet.
“Alright- just stop crying, breathe” You sigh, slightly flustered with his reaction, you haven’t laid a hand on him yet he’s bawling as if you’ve robbed him of something important. “Here, some tissues” You rummage your bag and find a travel sized version of a tissue box, giving him the box he gently takes it.
You’d look and see his face if you could, but he’s just staring at the ground with his hair covering his face while he wipes his tears away. His ears burn red with embarrassment and he wonders if he can ever even look at you after this. He feels so pathetic, and he hates it.
You’re so gentle with him even though he doesn’t deserve it, you found out he was stalking you and you still comforted him..
“I’m sorry…” He mumbles, wanting to feel the warmth of your skin somehow, despite knowing that wasn’t appropriate especially after you’ve caught him.
“Just.. don’t follow me anymore, I don’t know what you want but I’m not going to call the police” You sigh, wanting to go home and make your stupid fucking ramen, not deal with this guy.
“Wh- please! Don’t leave me.. please” He begs, clinging onto you by holding onto the end of your shirt, he’s desperate, but choked up so he can’t explain himself other than beg for you to stay.
“Dude- let go of me, what’s wrong with you? I’m not calling the police, don’t you understand?”
“I don’t want to be this way, I really don’t, but you- you’re you, and I just can’t stop myself” His vague words confuse you even more, your hoodie is growing more damp with the droplets falling on the two of you.
“I don’t understand you, dude you’re crazy” You furrow your eyebrows even more, looking incredibly concerned for how he was acting, he doesn’t seem like a threat, he just looks pathetic and desperate, like a stray dog.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to meet like this, I thought we would meet normally, in a nice place and bond over something, like in those shows? I’ve tried to look like how you like, I even got a few piercings” He takes his hoodie down, showing his eyebrow piercing and septum, tugging on them to show that they were real. You could see his eyes shake to observe your reaction, still teary.
This man standing before you has shown you that he’s crazy, attached, and desperate, and it’s all for you. You don’t know how to react, but he clings onto you even more.
“Give me a chance, I’ll act the way you want me to, I’ll dress the way you want, I’ll change for you …please?”
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anisespice · 2 days
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“ accidents happen ” || tokyo rev.
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synopsis: in which they discover you had their child and kept it from them all these years later.
pairing: bonten x fem!reader [ mikey, ran, sanzu ]
warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. mature language, crude humor, angst (if you squint really hard), deadbeat!bonten (unintentionally), not proof-read so there may be errors lol and i think that’s it :))
notes: i just want the drama >:) may make more parts, and even extend said headcannons into longer fics in the future, but wanted to post something quick for mother’s day. hope you enjoy!
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When you disappeared off the face of the earth, MIKEY had never been the same. One fight. One argument that spiraled out of control, and you were just gone...
He had people looking for you for about a couple years, the trail ran cold after a while and he had half a mind to think you were dead. Up until he got intel of your whereabouts one morning during a meeting.
That man got up and left immediately.
He wasn’t accompanied with any of his men, only because he didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention in the broad daylight. Sure, him wearing a black hood, ball cap, and mask in a park didn’t really help him look inconspicuous but it at least concealed his identity enough for him to blend in. Mikey sat on a bench for a good forty minutes, anxious, making anyone who passed him shiver from his intense aura alone; even birds walked around him. After almost an hour of waiting, he began to feel frustrated. Perhaps, the intel was false. Just as he went to stand, already conjuring up ways to have Sanzu execute the idiot who wasted his time, he heard it.
Your voice. Seizing him, like a siren’s call.
His eyes were alert, darting around until they landed on your figure, spotlighted by the sun, like an angel descending from the heavens. You looked good, healthy. That was good. An array of emotions fought for their turn in Mikey’s heart—Relief, distress, anger, nostalgia. He couldn’t just pick one, especially when it came to you. As he watched from his spot, doing his best to not seem suspicious, he clocked the people you were approaching with excitement, your peppy stride as you waved at, what he presumed, to be mother and daughter.
However, his entire world turned upside down when the little girl extended out her arms towards you, and said “Mama!”
“Hello, my darling.~” You cooed, taking her into your awaiting arms from the woman, embracing the toddler tightly. “Mama missed you so much.”
“Missed you, mama!” was the child’s reply, followed by her giggles.
A bucket of cold water would’ve been better than this. Watching you converse with who he now assumes to be the babysitter, Mikey felt faint. Vision blurring, head pounding, heart clenching. You…you…no. There’s no way. You wouldn’t have moved on…you couldn’t have, not like this, not from him. You loved him, didn’t you? You still love him, didn’t you?
How could you…how could you?
Before he knew it, he started to follow you around. From the park, to the store, all the way back to your apartment. He already phoned some of the executives to start working in on the babysitter, and anyone else in your new found circle for information. He wanted answers. He needed them.
By the time you began fixing dinner, with your daughter laid down for a nap, you receive a knock at your door. Who could that be at this hour?
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RAN was chilling outside the rendezvous spot for something the boss and a few other execs were participating in, having a smoke, minding his business, up until he sees a little girl with pigtails wearing a school uniform approaching, standing before him and just…staring. She barely came up to his thighs, could've been no older than seven. She was practically staring into his soul with bright lavender eyes that scarily reminded him of Rin’s when he was that age.
He stared back, head tilted as he blew out the smoke from the corner of his mouth. The hell was a kid doing on this side of town?
Then, after an uncomfortable staring contest, the little girl points at his cigarette. “My ma says those things are bad for you.”
Ran raised a brow, “Does she now?”
“Mmhm! She says it makes people unhappy.”
He offered a thoughtful nod, an amused grin spreading across his face. “Mm. Do I look unhappy?”
The girl looked at Ran for a minute, eyes squinted. Eventually, she shook her head. “No. But, ma also says people who are always unhappy get better at hiding it.”
Ran’s grin faltered. Her unwavering stare started to unnerve him, especially after hearing such a heavy statement come from such a small package.
After a brief moment of silence, he chuckled softly, taking one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it away. He exhaled. “Smart woman.”
The little girl beamed, “Mmhm! My ma knows a lot of stuff.”
“Tsk. But not ‘Stranger Danger’, apparently.”
She tilted her head, curious. “Huh?”
“You shouldn’t be wandering around by yourself, let alone approaching someone you don’t know. ‘s not safe. Especially for nosy little girls who stick their noses in other people’s business. Your ma never taught you that?”
The little girl rolled her eyes, hands on her hips. “Duh. Of course she did. Everyone knows that rule,” she exasperated. Ran snorted, but yielded when she squinted at him, pointing as she sassed. “And I do so know you, so you’re not a stranger.”
This time, Ran couldn’t help the incredulous laugh. “Oh, you know me, huh? That’s not good. ‘m supposed to keep a low profile. Say, you ain’t a cop are you?” He teased, earning another eye roll.
“No. Too small to be a cop, dummy.”
“Oh, pardon me, I didn’t notice. Where do you know me from, then?”
The little girl pointed over to the building..where the executives were having their meeting. She beamed, “Ma’s works in there. On important people days she can’t get me from school, so she tells me to come straight here, and to not talk to the purple man that stands near the building. She says you’re mean.”
Ran smirked, then gave a half-hearted shrug.
“She also says you’re my pa. But, I never believed her. You’re too old.”
Ran’s smirk dropped.
Whether more from the first comment or the last, you decide. But, one thing was for certain: he needed another cigarette.
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SANZU cackled watching some guy struggle to round up a couple of rowdy twins at the convenience store. One was knocking shit off the shelves while the other ran circles around the guy. It was what he needed for his bitch of a hangover, a good laugh to distract from the ache in his skull.
However, he wasn’t laughing for long when you came around the corner of the isle, holding a few items with a smile on your face that soon faded once you saw the scene unfolding before you; the pinkette thought he was still tripping balls. Blinking a few times to allow any after effects of the drugs to clear up, when you didn’t disappear he used his long legs to swiftly yeet behind one of the shelves, peering around it like some paranoid stalker. The last time you had spoken, you had threatened to castrate him with your teeth if you ever saw him again.
And he’d be damned if he tried your bluff.
He watched in awe as you straightened those twins up quick. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought they were trained to obey you, and only you. Any other authority be damned. While the guy was putting all the stuff back on the shelves, sweaty and out of breath, you gently reprimanded them for causing trouble. You still made that cute pouty face you always did whenever you were mad at him…
“What did we talk about earlier? Hm? Mr. Satoru was very kind to help mama today, you know. You two promised me you’d be on your best behavior for him.”
Sanzu gagged. This was the rebound you let nut in you? This huffy moron who can’t handle a couple of ankle biters, this was your king? He had half a mind to just gut the guy to put him out of his misery from that pathetic display from earlier, alone. He couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be back home. He remembers when he was that age—Rowdy, reckless, the Antichrist. Adorable, but deadly. God bless that poor bastard’s soul.
Wait…Mister? Not…dad?
The first twin whined, stomping their feet. “He’s too boringggg!”
Come to think of it…if Sanzu squinted…the longer he looked at the little family…he swore the more he saw the resemblance of himself in the tiny gremlins. From the hair, to the eyes, all the way down to the mannerisms…Hang on. When had been the last time you two fucked? Three…no, was it four years ago?
The second twin huffed, pointing at the man. “Yeah! And he’s jus’ being nice so that he can sleep in your bed, mama!”
You flushed, nervously chuckling as you looked around to make sure no one heard. Sanzu ducked behind a bag of chips, now nothing but eyes peeking through the gaps of food on the shelf.
So…that loser’s not the father? Then…could that mean..?
“He’s mama’s boyfriend, remember? He’s allowed to do that. And he’ll be around for a while, so I want you two to be nice, okay?”
“…okay, mama.” They grumbled.
Sanzu almost popped a blood vessel, fist clenched around a bag of Lays and nearly busting it. He chuckled darkly, “Oh. We’ll see about that.”
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© 2024-2025 anisespice ッ all rights reserved.
likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!
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Guilty As Sin? — Chapter One
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pairing: professor!javier peña x f!reader
rating: series is 18+ only, minors DNI, not a lot here beyond some world building, the party starts next chapter :)
word count: 3.6k
series masterlist
Though it was the first day of the fall semester and your first day as an official law student, you felt exactly the way you had the year before when you were a struggling undergrad. Same town, same friends, even the same apartment in the student housing complex right next to campus that you shared with three of your closest friends, Nina, Derrick, and Alondra, who just so happened to be law students as well. 
It seemed every aspect of your life had remained stagnant for the last four years, except for one critical thing—you were now a single woman. Four years of the most confusing, toxic, passionate relationship of your life now dead and buried thanks to your ex-boyfriend’s inability to keep his dick in his pants. You’d have to see him too this semester, though you tried to keep the prospect of an awkward run-in out of your head as you got ready for the day to the sound of a busy apartment. Nina and Derrick had breakfast duty this morning, the two of them shuffling around the kitchen as loudly as they could, it seemed. Alondra, like you, was sitting across the hall in her bedroom blasting Kali Uchis out of her speaker, though after two years of living together the noise didn’t really affect you at all anymore. 
“Food’s ready,” Derrick said, popping his head in the crack of your open door. 
Standing at six-foot-two with brown skin, hazel eyes, plump lips, and the sharpest bone structure you’d ever seen, Derrick was beautiful. The two of you had done an awkward dance ever since you’d known him, with Derrick silently crushing and you silently rejecting him. You didn’t know what it was about him that didn’t appeal to you; he was kind, handsome, and funny, all the things a normal girl could want. 
But you never really felt like a normal girl. 
You liked the men that didn’t like you back, the men who desperately needed someone to fix them, always convinced that you had what it took to do just that. Of course, you knew better than that by now, but there was a part of you that worried you. A part you always had to keep an eye on, too afraid of your naive, trusting heart taking the reins. 
“I’ll be out in a sec,” you said, coating your eyelashes in a decent amount of mascara. Derrick leaned against the doorframe, watching you with something too close to adoration for your comfort. You laughed it off, waving your hand at him. “Go away.” 
“Am I making you nervous,” he teased. Truthfully, he was. Just not in the way he probably hoped. 
“I’m trying not to stab myself in the eye,” you said instead. 
“Mmhm,” he chuckled, patting the doorframe. “Hurry up, your plate’s at the table.”
“If you’d let me concentrate.” 
Ten minutes later, you were sitting at the table with Derrick on your right—his plate conveniently set beside yours—and Nina and Alondra across from you.
“I’m swearing off of hookups this semester,” Alondra announced, earning skeptical glances from the three of you. “I am!”
“Until Sabina calls you up late at night claiming she’s lonely and sad,” Derrick teased. You kicked him under the table only to find out that Nina had done the exact same thing. “I’m just speaking the truth.”
“You’re a man, you don’t get to speak your truth here,” Nina said. “And as for you—“ She turned to Alondra beside her. “The minute you run into that bitch, you’re done for. Best to accept it now.”
“No, I’m done with her,” Alondra insisted, though you’d all seen this before. Every fall, without fail, Alondra and her toxic cheater of an ex-girlfriend, Sabina, get back together, and every summer they find a reason to break up, only to repeat the cycle the next year. “I might try dudes for a while.”
“Shut the fuck up,” you snorted, carrying your plate to the sink. “Since when are you into dudes?”
“Since Sabina ruined all women for me,” she sassed. “Besides, sexuality’s a spectrum.” 
“What about you?” Nina asked, turning in her chair to watch you wash your dish. “Any plans this semester? Hopefully ones that don’t include a toxic relationship?”
“Certainly not,” you replied with a laugh. “I’m gonna be the most boring fucking person at this school this year. No shitty men, no partying, just school.”
“Twenty bucks I get her to black out this weekend,” Nina challenged, turning to Derrick and Alondra. 
“I’ll take that bet,” Derrick said, shooting you a wink. 
“Alright, while you guys are betting, I’m gonna head out to class. You know, like a serious law student,” you teased, drying your hands off before making your way to the front door. “I’ll see you guys in class.”
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The first class of the day was Dr. Brown’s Contracts lecture. You’d had him during undergrad for your Criminal Psych class and specifically sought him out while registering because of his laid-back approach to teaching. Though he appeared to be yet another stuffy old man at face value, his personality was much more in line with that of The Dude from The Big Lebowski. He reeked of weed, loved to curse, and didn’t give a shit about all the formalities the rest of your professors insisted upon. 
Dr. Brown’s class passed by with ease, his lecture on the contract breach between Apple and Samsung paired with a meme-filled PowerPoint amusing you enough that you forgot you’d been sitting there for two hours. 
The next class of the day—Dr. Arman’s Legal Research and Writing course—was far less amusing, but at least Dr. Arman didn’t ask much from her students besides following along with slideshows and turning in the occasional paper. Still, the next hour and a half drudged on like feet on sand, Alondra nodding off beside you in the back of the lecture hall. 
“Shit,” she whispered, snapping awake after a nudge from your elbow to her side. “Is it almost over?”
“Yeah,” you chuckled, backing up your bag. “I have to hustle to Criminal Law, you good?”
“Yeah, just gonna rest my eyes for a second,” she mumbled, already falling back to sleep. With a fond smile, you rolled your eyes at her and left the hall. 
The last class of the day was Criminal Law I, taught by Dr. Peña, a professor you’d never had in any of your undergrad classes. It was always a toss up every time you entered a new lecture hall whether or not a professor would end up on your shit list, and a sinking suspicion told you Dr. Peña would not be as casual as Dr. Brown nor as lenient as Dr. Arman. No, there was always one overly demanding, arrogant old prick of a professor each semester without fail. 
Though you’d arrived fifteen minutes before class, all the good seats were taken by the time you walked into the hall, leaving only a few seats at the very front. Sighing, you looked longingly at Nina as she sat in one of the back rows, surrounded by a flock of hopeful men desperate to make her laugh. She caught eyes with you and gasped when she realized where you were headed. 
“No, girl, not the front,” she called, earning a dejected nod from you as you reached the mostly deserted front row. 
As you unpacked your bag and notebook—you hated using your laptop in class—Derrick quickly slid into the seat beside you with a huff, as if he’d just finished a marathon. 
“Had to climb over a row of people to get down here,” he said, smiling at you.
“You didn’t have to do that,” you said, nudging his shoulder with yours. 
“Wasn’t gonna let you slum it down here alone.”
“Thanks,” you chuckled. “You know anything about this guy?”
“Yeah, my brother had him when he went here a few years back,” he said, opening his laptop. “Apparently he’s a dick.”
“Of course he is,” you sighed. 
“You have class after this?”
“Nope,” you shook your head. “You?”
“Nah, just the gym with Nina,” he said, stretching out his legs and relaxing into his chair. “You could come, if you wanted.”
“I hate the gym,” you said, scrunching up your nose. “Besides, I need to go get groceries and stuff. Maybe get a head start on Brown’s project.”
“Responsible,” he nodded in approval. “Boring but responsible.”
“All these boring years are gonna pay off when I graduate top of the class,” you quipped, earning a scoff. 
“That’s what you said in undergrad and who ended up graduating at the top?” he asked with a smirk, sticking his chin up with pride. 
“I was one percent away from kicking your ass,” you rolled your eyes and chuckled. 
“Maybe you’ll find another shitty boyfriend to distract you—“
Though you would have liked to hit him for his comment, you were stopped dead in your tracks as the most handsome, brown haired, broad shouldered, puppy-eyed looking man walked out of his adjoining office and up to the desk at the front of the class. He carried an air of authority with his furrowed brows and disapproving frown as he waited for the class to quiet down. 
“If you’re all finished,” he said, unpacking his book bag while scoping out the faces he’d be spending the semester looking at, starting with the back. You watched him with interest, hating that kick of adrenaline the moment his eyes met yours. He seemed to linger for a half a second longer than he had with everyone else before looking away, furthering your delusional thoughts. “Welcome to Criminal Law I. My name is Dr. Peña, you’ll refer to me as such. I except professionalism, conciseness, and competency from the lot of you. You’re graduates now. Time to act like it.”
“Jesus,” Derrick muttered beside you, shaking his head. 
“There will be no whispering, no texting, and for God’s sake, no music in my class. You’re here to learn and I’m here to teach.”
You listened as a few students gathered their things and silently made their exit from the hall. Dr. Peña watched them with a smug look that did little to shoo away your interest. Fantasies of receiving that same look in a far more inappropriate context flooded your mind, visions of you on your knees in his office. 
“Good, now let’s begin. We’ll be covering the penal code today, along with territorial jurisdiction. Can anyone give me a definition of the latter?” 
Never one to volunteer an answer without being called on, you waited for someone else to take the fall. Dr. Peña seemed just as patient, his arms crossing over his chest in a way that pulled at the fabric covering his arms. You quickly turned your eyes down to your notebook when he caught you staring, busying yourself with jotting down the date. 
“In the front,” he said, earning your attention. When you found him still watching you, you let out a small sigh. “Would you care to give us a definition, Miss…”
Giving him your last name, you searched your mind for the definition that you remembered learning at some point during your four years of undergrad. 
“Territorial jurisdiction refers to a court’s power in a certain territory,” you said, swallowing down your nerves as you began to feel your ears heat. 
“And in regards to Texas? Can you give me the section of the Penal Code that covers territorial jurisdiction?” he asked, his voice a deep, whiskey warm timbre that hit you like an aphrodisiac, your mind running rampant with all sorts of inappropriate scenarios of hearing that sinful voice up close and personal.
“I…don’t know,” you said, lowering your eyes down to your desk just to get a break from his steady eye contact. 
“Section 1.04,” he said, a hint of arrogance in his tone. “Now that you have the section, would you mind reading the text for us?”
Taking a deep breath, you flipped to the section in your textbook, hoping that your nervous stutter didn’t make an appearance today. 
“I can do it,” Derrick volunteered, mildly irking you. Did he think he was saving you? Or was this his attempt at competition? 
Dr. Peña waited until he was finished to admonish his interruption. 
“Thank you, Mr…,”
“Crawley,” he said, offering him a charming smile. 
“Yes, thank you, Mr. Crawley, but in the future, I ask that you refrain from interjecting. I’m sure your friend was perfectly capable of reading aloud,” Dr. Peña said, causing Derrick to scoff under his breath. “Alright, I need a volunteer from the second row to read the next section.” 
Derrick seemed to take it to heart, his ever-present smile long gone as he typed his notes on his laptop. 
“Sorry,” you whispered, tapping his shoe with yours. 
“S’whatever,” he shrugged, but you knew him well enough by now that it was far from whatever to him. Derrick was always the best in every class, always adored by professors. You weren’t sure he’d ever been scolded by a teacher in his life, let alone in front of the entire class. “He’s a prick.”
“He’s—“
“Are we interrupting?” Dr. Peña sighed, leveling a look at the two of you as if to say, really? You shrank in your seat, avoiding his stern eyes. “Anyways, you were saying, Miss Martinez?” 
After a tense hour spent listening to Dr. Peña pick on the class, it was time to pack up. You could practically hear your bed calling as you packed your things into your bag, except…
“Would you mind staying behind for a moment,” Dr. Peña asked, calling your name. You gave Derrick a wide eyed look, earning a raise of his brow. 
“Sure, um—“
“I’ll wait up for you,” Derrick offered, slinging his bag over his shoulders before filing out of the lecture hall with the rest of the class. 
Once alone with Dr. Peña, you began to feel sick with anticipation, especially as he sat quiet at his desk shuffling through papers. 
“I’d like to apologize for today. I’m afraid we may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” you said, carefully approaching his desk. “I assure you, this is nothing I take more seriously than this. I—“
“I asked you to stay behind because I’m in need of an assistant for my undergrad Intro to Forensics class and your name was given to me by the Dean,” he said, looking up at you with a mixture of exhaustion and boredom in his eyes.  
“Wait—what?” you gave him a puzzled look. 
“Your name is listed in the TA program, is it not?” he asked, leaning back in his chair. You tried not to ogle him, but the way his white button down stretched across his broad chest made it damn near impossible.
“It is, but—“
“You’re one of the only law students available who’s taken the class before,” he said, clicking his pen as he began to mark the syllabus sheets he’d passed out towards the end of class. “So, what do you say? Three labs a week. Paid, of course.”
“I’m not sure I can handle the extra load, honestly,” you said. Though you were sure the extra work would certainly up the pressure, it wasn’t the real reason you were so quick to decline. Truthfully, it was him. How were you supposed to be around him an extra three days a week when you were already worried about the three you’d be spending with him in this class? “But if you’re in need of a recommendation, Mr. Crawley took Intro to Forensics with me and—“
“Take a day, think about it. First lab is Wednesday,” he interjected, glancing up at you with those brown eyes that looked both innocent and dangerous at the same time, a confusing balance your overly romantic heart longed to study in depth. You chuckled, a sound of disbelief over his disregard for your rejection, as you watched him turn back to his work. “I’ll have the Dean send over a formal offer this afternoon.”
“What time are the labs?” you asked, slowly accepting your fate—or, more accurately, accepting his stubbornness on the matter. 
“Eight to ten in the evening,” he replied, sounding as though he might yawn at the prospect. “Not ideal.”
“No,” you agreed, offering him a small smile. “I, uh, I’ll think about it.”
Not wanting to embarrass yourself—or endure more of this delusional torture—you made your exit as quickly and gracefully as you could manage, waiting until you were out in the main hall to freak out. 
“What did his fine ass want?” Nina asked, approaching you with Derrick in tow. You snorted at her brashness and rolled your eyes. 
“His fine ass wanted me to TA for his Intro to Forensics lab,” you replied, shaking your head as you looked through your tote for some gum, hoping to distract your rampant fantasies about said fine ass. 
“What the fuck?” Derrick griped, shaking his head. “I’ve been begging the dean to get me a TA position this semester but he said all the positions had been filled.”
“I tried to recommend you,” you offered, giving him a sympathetic frown. “I don’t even know if I’ll take it—”
“Then let me,” he said, hope lighting up his eyes. Even though you still had yet to make up your mind on the matter, his assumption that you’d just give urubbed you the wrong way. 
“I’m gonna think about it first,” you said, sharing a knowing look with Nina. 
If there was one thing to fault Derrick for, it would be his tendency to step on people—even his closest friends—to secure an opportunity. Even when he didn’t need to, even when he’d already won over most professors on campus, even when he knew his female friends struggled to reach even half of the respect given to him strictly because he was a man. 
“You coming with us to the gym?” Nina asked, changing the subject as she watched you bite back the urge to tell Derrick that maybe, just this once, it would be you stepping over him to secure a good opportunity. 
“No thanks,” you chuckled. 
“Lame,” she said, glancing over at Derrick who seemed to be lost in thought. “Well I’m gonna go change.” 
“See you later on,” you said, watching as she made her way down the hall. 
“So you think you might take the job?” Derrick asked, sticking his hands in his pocket. 
“I might,” you admitted, shrugging your shoulders. 
“Just…be careful,” he cautioned, causing your brows to furrow. “Male professors can be creepy as fuck.”
“Men in general can be, yeah,” you laughed. “But I’m sure I can take care of myself.” 
He nodded, ticking his jaw. 
“Well, I gotta go get groceries,” you lied, desperate to get back home, crawl into bed, and maybe do something about those fantasies from earlier. “I’ll see you back—“
“Come to dinner with me,” he blurted, biting his lip as he watched you go through a rollercoaster of emotions. Shock, amusement, confusion, before landing on something akin to empathy. 
“What? Derrick—“
“Just one date,” he promised. “One date and if it doesn’t work out, you know…we can just stay friends.” 
“I don’t know that it’s that simple,” you said, looking anywhere but at him. 
Why was he so dead set on going down this road; of making this mistake that you knew would end terribly? 
“Just a date,” he coaxed. “And I promise no weirdness afterwards if it doesn’t work out.”
“You can’t promise that,” you muttered, shaking your head. “And even if you can, I don’t know that I can.” 
“That’s assuming it goes bad,” he said, nudging your shoulder with a smile. “Friday night, you and me, some fancy restaurant I can barely afford. What do you say?”
Perhaps it was the new year, or maybe just the endorphins brought on by the sight of Dr. Peña in his tight slacks, but what did you have to lose? A good friend that you weren’t even sure would be your friend if he didn’t believe it was his only way in? 
“Fine,” you said, sighing. “One date. No weirdness. No expectations.”
Derrick grinned, nodding as he pulled you in for a hug. “Won’t regret it.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you chuckled. 
“Excuse me,” Dr. Peña appeared, in the doorway the two of you were blocking, causing Derrick to pull you out of the way and into his side. You watched Dr. Peña’s eyes scan the proximity between the two of you, a hint of disapproval on his face that you were sure you were imagining. “Have a good afternoon, you two.”
“You too,” you managed, sliding Derrick’s arm off your shoulder. “Also—“
Dr. Peña stopped, turning back towards you. “I, uh, I’ll take the job.”
“What?” Derrick scoffed, earning a curious look from Dr. Peña. 
“Very well,” he nodded. “You’ll find the contract in your email tonight.”
“Thank you for the opportunity, Professor,” you said, trying your hardest not to purr the last word out the way your filthy mind yearned to. 
Thank you for the opportunity, Professor. Such a fucking cliche that you had no intentions on perpetuating. 
Except for the fantasies. After all, what harm could come from a silly little fantasy?  
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lustfulslxt · 3 days
Text
1949 ⭑ Matt Sturniolo
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Chapter One
summary : you move back home with your brother and click with his friends, though the tension is high with matt and it turns into something more
warnings : brothers best friend trope, slow burn, tension, sneaky relationship, swearing, eventual smut, slight traumatic past relationship with reader’s mother, and probably some other stuff
a/n : each chapter will have a different collage solely based on what takes place in it. kind of a new idea but i’m gonna run w it. if you don’t like it, use your imagination and pretend it’s not there xx
3.4k words
prologue
Surprisingly, after the long and heartfelt hug, things were quiet as the three of you make your way back to the car. Your dad insisted on carrying your belongings for you, leaving you arm in arm with Nate, who refuses to leave your side.
The lights on the car flash as your dad unlocks it, heading towards the opening trunk to place your luggage in it. Nate opens the back door for you, holding his hand out, motioning you to get in. You easily slide through, the fresh aroma of black ice filling your senses. A wave of familiarity washes over you, striking you with old memories you’re so fond of.
“Are you okay?” Nate asks from beside you.
You glance at him with a smile before furrowing your eyebrows, “Yeah. How come you’re not up front?”
“Oh come on. I’ve spent thirteen years without you, I don’t ever wanna leave your side again.” He admits with a bittersweet laugh, then pauses, “Wait, unless you’re more comfortable—“
You stop him from getting back out by grabbing his arm, instantly shaking your head. “No, please stay.”
He gives you a smile, taking place right beside you again. Your father opens the door on the opposite side, and starts to scoot in before stopping as he looks at the two of you in the back.
“Wait.. I have to drive?” He questions, feigning absurdity.
“Dad!” Nate chuckles, leaving you all giggling as your dad gets behind the wheel to get you all home.
Home.
It’s weird to think that. You’re going home. It’s you, Nate, and your dad in a city you used to love, but now seems so foreign to you. You can only hope things start to fit together again.
The car ride is silent, the three of you just taking in the abrupt new change. You’re over the moon to be back with them, but you can’t help but notice the difference. And of course, things are going to be different as it’s been thirteen years. You just didn’t really know what to expect.
As you watch out the windows, the scenery becomes slightly familiar and it takes you a moment to realize where you’re at. You recognize the side streets, every turn, every tree, every house. And then you’re there.
Your eyes widen as you take in the house in front of you. Slowly exiting the car, you view the house from top to bottom. It’s exactly the same.
“You never left.” You find yourself stating.
Nate comes to your side as your dad retrieves your bags, “We wanted to stay here in case you ever found your way back home.”
Tears prick in your eyes and you can’t help but feel an overwhelming mix of emotions. Without a word, you lurch into Nate’s arms, engulfing him in a massive hug. His embrace is warm and welcoming, making you realize just how much you missed him.
Pulling away, he gives you a sad smile, rubbing your arm in a comforting manner. Your dad places a hand on your shoulder, causing your attention to shift to him. You immediately wrap your arms around him, yanking him into a much needed hug.
“Enough with being all sappy and shit. Let’s get inside, it’s cold as hell out here.” Nate chuckles.
You smile and follow them in, your heart rate increasing with every step you take. You’re in awe once you walk through the door. It’s been years, but everything’s still the same, aside from a few upgrades. It still gives that welcoming feeling you’ve desperately longed for.
“Do you want to go upstairs?” Nate asks.
You look towards the staircase where your dad is headed, before looking back at your brother. He has a sort of hopeful look on his face, though you can still see he’s a bit unsure. You swallow the lump in your throat and give him a small upturn of your lips, nodding in agreement.
He starts up the same steps you used countless of times years and years ago, beckoning you to follow him. Your shaky hand grasps the railing as you do, the wooden steps slightly creaking beneath your weight. As you round the corner, you notice your dad standing outside the door to your old bedroom.
“Uh—we didn’t change anything, we kind of just left it as it was.” He starts, his tone of voice a bit nervous, “We did get a new bed when your grandma said you were coming back, figured you’d like more room as opposed to a twin. Oh, and your clothes were just pulled out to make room for what you have now. They’re packed away in the garage. I know your taste has probably changed, so we can do whatever you want with it. ”
You’re left speechless as you hesitantly cross the threshold. Your mind is flooded with old memories that you seemed to have forgotten.
“Well, we’ll leave you to get settled in.” Your dad says, “If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
“But—“ Nate is cut off by a tug from your father, pulling him out of the room.
As soon as the door closes, you turn back around to take it all in. Your eyes are wide as you observe your surroundings. Today is full of surprises, you almost don’t even know how to deal with it all.
Your walls are covered in that same pink pastel wallpaper, spare flowers scattered all across them. Your floor still has that white fluffy carpet that you were obsessed with when you were five. The chalkboard is covered from top to bottom with old writing from when you and Nate were little, but you notice something in the corner that looks a bit different.
I miss you so much sis
The tears flooding your eyes slip, streaming down your cheeks as your fingertips brush over the words. You wonder what it’s been like for them. Was it as hard for them as it was for you? Was it even worse?
You take a deep breath and continue around the room. Your small desk is filled with coloring books and writing utensils just like you left them the night before you were torn away from your family. Your toy box is overflowing with all sorts of things — dolls, stuffed animals, legos. You have a giant kitchen set on the side of the chest, one that you vividly remember you and Nate playing with. There’s a small bulletin board by your window, covered in pictures from your younger years.
Being with your family in your old house, your old room, brings so many feelings to the surface. You’re super glad to be home, but you feel so sad. Sad that you’ve gone so long without them, and you’ll never get that time back.
Taking a deep breath, you sit on the edge of your bed, before letting yourself fall flat against it. It’s soft and plush, just how you like it, and the fact that they remembered makes you smile.
You don’t know how long it’s been as you lay there in silence, but your eyes feel droopy and you’re practically fighting sleep. However, it takes merely minutes for it to consume you, and you drift off into a much needed slumber.
-
The sweet and smokey smell of syrup and bacon fill your nose, causing you to scrunch it up as you slowly become conscious. Your eyes are heavy and it takes a minute to adjust to the bright light shining through the window. After a moment, your body begins to wake up and you find yourself rolling over in search of your phone. Running your hands through your sheets, you sit up in a slight panic, only to feel the hardness beneath you in the back pocket of your jeans. You pull it out to check the time, shock flooding your veins as you read 12:47 PM.
“Holy shit.” You whisper to yourself, in disbelief that you slept so long.
You swing your legs off the bed, planting them on the ground as you reach your arms up to stretch. Your back subtly cracks, pulling a satisfied groan from you as your legs slightly twitch. Rolling your head from side to side, you stand up and follow the pleasant interruption that awoke you from your peaceful tranquility.
As you make your way downstairs, you hear shuffling in the kitchen. The sound of grease popping is heard, followed by a loud yelp. Quickening your stride, you round the corner and see Nate watching the stove from quite a few feet away.
“Um, are you okay?” You question, your voice still a little groggy with sleep.
Nate jumps at the sound of your voice, whipping around with wide eyes. “You’re awake!”
You give him a crooked smile, your eyebrows knitting together, “Yeah…”
He recomposes himself and points at the stove, “Sorry, dad had to work and I, uh- I was tryna make you breakfast.”
You bite back a grin and walk forward to the stove, turning the burner down. The extra grease popping ceases, it now only softly bubbling around the bacon.
“You just had the temperature too high.”
Nate chuckles, “I didn’t know you were a little chef.”
“Oh no, I just had to learn to fend for myself.” You match his laugh, pausing at your own words. “Um, sorry I slept so late. I didn’t even realize I fell asleep last night.”
“You’re good.” Nate shakes his head, “I know you were probably tired from the flight, different time zones and whatever.” You nod in agreement before he continues, “If you want, you can go shower and do what you need to do while I finish this. Just make yourself at home, it’s yours too.”
A warm smile graces your lips as you nod once again, “Yeah, okay.”
You turn on your heels, heading back to the stairs. You look back once more, watching Nate bounce all over the kitchen, and laugh to yourself at how he’s still the same as he was. Quickly you head upstairs, in desperate need of a shower to help wake you up and relax you.
Entering your bedroom, you go straight for your bags. You pull out everything you need in order to get ready for the day — a towel, washcloth, toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and a simple outfit to wear. After gathering all of your little supplies, you head to the bathroom.
Flicking the light on and shutting yourself in, you move to lay everything out on the counter. You place your washes in the shower, turning the hot water on. As you wait for it to heat up, you hang your towels on the shower rack, and begin to brush your teeth.
Once you finish, you strip from your clothes, and step into the scalding hot water. A content sigh falls from your lips as the water pellets continuously rain down on you. You run your hands through your hair, letting it soak up the water.
You find yourself staring off into space, your thoughts consumed by this new life you have to readjust to. You've wanted it back for so long, and now that you have it, you don't know what to do with it. You feel unsure of what's to come, the looming anxiety paired with an overwhelming sense of uncertainty. You just hope your family can help you navigate these new adventures ahead of you.
Snapping out of your thoughtful trance with bright red, and tender skin, you proceed to wash yourself up like you intended to. Having spent quite some time just staring off, you rush to finish cleansing yourself.
After you're done, you shut the water off and begin to dry off. Stepping out of the shower, you wrap the towel around your hair and move to the sink. You begin brushing your teeth while you air dry before getting dressed. Shaking your hair out, you hang your towel to dry, then make your way back downstairs.
"About time." Nate calls, "I was beginning to think you got on another flight without saying goodbye."
Your face droops, guilt taking over your expression as you stare at him.
His smile falls, "Too soon? I'm sorry."
You muster up a half smile and shake your head, "You're good, just wasn't expecting that."
You sit across from him at the table, both of you having a plate of breakfast in front of you. You notice a cup beside your food and look in it, eyeing its contents.
"It's tea. You still like tea, don't you?"
You grin, "Love it."
His face mirrors yours, and the two of you dig in. Your chewing falters for a moment, and you suddenly realize you should've waited until you finished eating to brush your teeth. Taking his thoughtfulness into consideration, you push past the bitter taste and continue chowing.
"Can I ask you something?" Nate breaks the silence.
You nod.
"What was it like?"
You figured he would hit you with that question sooner or later, but for some reason you're unprepared to answer it. You set your fork down and place your hands on the table as your stare at him.
"Uh," You pause, "It sucked. Mom was — I don't know. It just sucked."
He hesitantly nods. You can see that he has more questions, but he lets them go. There used to be a safe space between the two of you. You never had to worry about overstepping boundaries and swallowing your curiosity. You want that back.
"If you have something to say or ask, go ahead." You offer.
His eyes light up and he takes a moment to think. "Um, I-I just want to say that we know it wasn't your fault. Despite not seeing you for over a decade, I know how you are. It was hard for us, so I can only imagine how it was for you. We don't blame you for it. And if you ever wanna talk about it, I'm always here."
You feel a weight lift off your shoulders as you swallow the lump in your throat. You needed that. You needed to hear him say that he knows it wasn't your fault, because even though it wasn't, you were worried they would blame you.
"Best little brother in the world." You smile.
He chuckles and shakes his head, "What do you want to do today?"
"I have no idea." You admit with a laugh as you shrug, "Definitely wanna unpack, and maybe go shopping for new things. I only brought my essentials with me."
He nods, "We can do that."
The two of you finish your breakfast over small talk. Nate says he'll clean up while you start on your room, so you head up there.
You immediately pull your small speaker out, connecting your phone to it to play music. Getting started; you move all of your clothes into your dresser. You have a few perfumes and lotions that you place on top. A few pairs of shoes, you place in your closet. After emptying all of your bags, you're left with your journals.
Shortly after the move, you started going to therapy to help cope with things. Your therapist recommended that you write every day, even about the littlest of things. So, you did. Every single day, even when you didn't feel up to it, you made sure to jot down at least something — your feelings, what you did during the day, things you wish to do, etc.
Setting them in the drawer of your nightstand, you move onto your old belongings from when you were just a little girl. You gather the majority of everything, placing it all into several piles. You find yourself smiling at the memories resurfacing from going through it all. Oh, how badly you wish you could just go back.
"Hey." Nate's voice sounds from the doorway. "I brought this."
He holds up what looks to be a photo album. You meet him at your bed, both of you taking a seat as he sets it in between both of you.
"I figured maybe you would want to see some of this."
You eagerly nod, letting him open the album for the two of you to go through it. You find yourself smiling fondly at the old pictures of you guys as a family. There are pictures of you and your dad, you and Nate, Nate and your dad. You can't help but notice that your mother is nowhere to be seen in any of the pictures.
Nate seems to notice your confusion, and elaborates, "So, dad took them all out. It was hard for him; he was really mad at her. We still have them, I'm pretty sure they're just packed away in the garage with the rest of her stuff."
You nod, understanding that things had to have been difficult. You continue to go through the pictures, laughing together and commenting on every memory. However, soon enough, you're also nowhere to be found.
Your smile soon fades as you go through the pictures of your dad and Nate. From Halloween to baseball games, to dad teaching him how to golf. You even see a picture of Nate at graduation, and it brings a grave feeling to your gut. You've missed out on so much, and there's no getting it back.
Swallowing the pain, you point to a group photo of people you don't recognize. "Who are they?"
"They are my best friends." Nate smiles brightly. "They're triplets. That's Nick, Matt, and Chris. I met them in middle school, we played hockey together."
"Triplets, huh?" You say, "That's a new one."
"Yeah, they're amazing. Never a dull moment with them, that's for sure. They're pretty wild to be honest."
You give him a smile, "That's good. I'm glad you have good friends; you guys seem like you have a good relationship."
"It's awesome." He nods in agreement, "Actually, they want to meet you."
"Me?" You question, incredulously. "They know about me?"
"Really?" Nate gapes, "Of course they know about you. You're my sister, and they're my best friends. I talk about you nonstop."
Unable to help yourself, you're leaning over to pull him into a hug. He's always been the sweetest. He knows exactly what to say almost all the time.
"So, are you down?" He asks as you both part from the hug.
Your eyes widen, "Right now?"
He shrugs with a grin, "Yeah, why not?"
"O-okay." You agree, mirroring his shrug.
He pulls out his phone to presumably text them and have them come over. The two of you go downstairs before he leads you to the backdoor.
"They usually just come straight to the back, so we can just hangout out here if that's cool with you."
You hum in approval, already making your way around the backyard. Nate props his phone up against a flowerpot, running out into the yard with you.
"My sister's back!" He cheers, jumping on your back.
You stumble a bit, caught off guard, laughter pouring out of you as you quickly catch him. You turn towards his phone, a giant smile on your face. You're filled with a happiness you haven't felt in so long.
"I'm back." You copy, giving the camera a thumbs up.
He slides off of your back, picking you up and twirling you around. You let out a small yelp, joyous sounds floating in the air from the both of you. The two of you throw your arms up, cheering like maniacs, just like old times.
Your movement halts as you hear a car pull over the gravel in the driveway. Several car doors open and shut, before quick footsteps make their way to the back gate.
You're suddenly extremely nervous, bringing your hands together in front of you. Your breath catches in your throat when you see a hand reach over to pull the latch. You feel like a deer caught in headlights, unsure of your next move. Your heart races in your chest, and it's confusing to you. You're just meeting your brother's friends; it should never be this serious. But for some reason, as you listen to the creaky hinges swing the door open, you're met with a wave of undeniable tension.
a/n : sort of a lil cliffhangerrr lol. gotta keep yall on your toes :-)
taglist : @luv4kozume @worldlxvlys @flowerxbunnie @sturniolowhore @creamoncreamoncream2 @lvrsparadise @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @tillies33ssss @chrissfavwh3re @its-jennarose @sophssturn @defnotayonna @ksskianshd @d0wnbad4chris @braindead4l @avasturn @luverboychris @remussbitch @stunza @rootbeerworshiper @dracoflaco @strnlsblog @domaniquessidehoe @mattslolita @junnniiieee07 @pepsienthusiasts @gamermattsgf @cupidsword @iloveneilperry @matt444nixi @sturniololol @evieolo @dlyansworld @luv2matt @nmegamett20 @angelic-sturniolos111 @stasiesturn @zivall @similartokayyz @fratbrochrisgf @ifilwtmfc
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amourane · 3 days
Text
nightmares no more
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pairing: yoon jeonghan x reader
genre: fluff, ceo au
w/c: 0.8k
summary: everyone wants yoon jeonghan and you were lucky enough to score him.
warnings: none
a/n: this right here is my man, love of my life, aaaaa i love him so much, also disclaimer this post used to be under my old url httphannie <3
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It was already well past midnight and you were still sitting at your desk, paperwork laid out in front of you. To anyone it would look like an uncoordinated mess but you had everything in the right place. There were the legal documents that you were settling for the contract with another company and there were the marriage plans over there. Your bulletin board behind you was pinned with various arrays of dresses and contracts. 
You rubbed your eyes, tired from the work. If you went to sleep now you wouldn't have the preparations for tomorrow's meeting ready, not to mention you had to go see the venue for the wedding with Jeonghan. Your week had been busy and you hadn’t gotten a good night's sleep in what seemed like forever. 
Being the secretary of the CEO of the biggest company in the country and trying to balance planning your wedding was hard. You were constantly rushing everywhere; trying to get everything perfect. Not to mention the nightmares you had been getting. It was a big enough scandal when the press found out you were dating your boss but now they knew you were engaged to him. 
Yoon Jeonghan was one of the most sought out bachelors in the country and even when the both of you had announced your relationship, there were still some delusional girls who would try to hurt you. Every night you woke up in a cold sweat, the same image of not being able to breathe and hands grabbing you from every angle haunted your mind. That was partly the reason why you were still up working.
There was a knock on the door and Jeonghan popped his head around. “I thought I told you to take a break.” You rushed to him, embracing him tightly, inhaling his comforting scent. “I missed you too, my love.”
It was as if the barriers that were protecting you fell apart and you felt tears start rolling down your eyes. You couldn’t stop them from falling while you hiccuped continuously. Jeonghan hugged you tighter, running his fingers through your hair, untangling the kinks. 
“Why’re you crying? You're making your beautiful face look sad.” He pressed a kiss on your forehead as he stared at your glassy eyes. 
“I don’t know.” You sniffled. “It’s just that I’ve got the contracts to prepare and then we have the wedding, not to mention all the nightmares I’ve been having. I just feel like I can’t do anything, you’re the one handling all those people, Hannie.”
Your fiance frowned, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “That’s not true. Who’s been handling all these business papers, even though I told them not to worry, and who’s been holding this wedding on their shoulders?” Jeonghan smiles. “There’s so much light in you that it blinds me sometimes. You’re a wonderful person and I love you, so it doesn’t matter what people think. Much less people who don’t even know you.”
“Why are you like this?” Your cheeks were still stained with tears but your lips were curled into a small smile.
“Like what?” Jeonghan gave you a cheeky grin, he blinked innocently up at you. “I’m just telling the truth. You stole my heart the moment I saw you.” He gasped dramatically, clutching his chest, before giving you a wink.
You giggled, pulling him in for a kiss. It was sweet when your lips touched, both of you had been so busy that it had been so long since you shared such an intimate moment. His lips were warm and you couldn’t help but feel at ease when he was with you. 
Jeonghan picked you up suddenly which made you squeal. He didn’t let you say anything, carrying you out of your office and into your shared bedroom. He threw you down on the bed, arms pinning you both sides. A second of silence ticks by. You stared lovingly at your fiance before tugging him down onto you.
“Are you trying to seduce me, Yoon Jeonghan?” 
“And what if I am, Y/n? Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for my charms already.” His tongue flicked over his bottom lip. You didn’t get to reply before a yawn escaped your mouth, your cheeks flushed and you diverted your eyes. 
Jeonghan grinned and he leant down so his forehead was touching yours. He let out a light laugh. “Sleep, my love. I’ll keep the nightmares away.” 
You knew you didn’t have a choice by the way he was looking at you, it was the same way he’d stare down his partners to get a good deal out of them. Reluctantly, you nodded, letting him tuck you in and kiss you goodnight.
“Take two weeks off, the company can survive without you 24/7.” Jeonghan placed a finger against your lips, knowing you were going to start protesting. “That isn’t a question, you’re far too stressed, just let me handle things.”
“But Hannie-”
“No.” He placed his hand on your cheek, the warmth spreading through his palm and across your face. “From now on, you’re not allowed in that office, you leave all the work to me. I’m the CEO for a reason Y/n. Promise?”
You sighed, knowing it was no use to try and protest. “Promise.” 
Jeonghan smiled, placing a kiss on your cheek. “Sleep well, my love.”
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literaila · 3 days
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do you ever think reader would storm out of the house after a fight between her & satoru? (referring to ur keeping secrets fic.) i feel like part of her wouldn’t bc she’s also thinking about the kids and she just can’t leave them, but she also seems a lot more grounded than satoru in general. i think the other part of her would also need a minute to step out for a bit bc i just know satoru drives her to insanity. i don’t knoww, satoru’s reaction to her storming out just infects my brain, but i know she couldn’t do that to megumi and tsumiki </3 i’m such a sucker for your hurt/comfort fics
“where are you going?”
“not sure,” satoru says, barely mumbling. “i didn’t ask.”
“you didn’t ask?”
he looks at you, just a glimmer of teasing in his eyes. but the rest of him is apprehensive—he knows what you’re thinking.
he always does.
but he looks back down, shoving shirts into a suitcase in the worst possible way.
“does it matter?” he asks, dryly. “it’s just another work trip.”
“how long are you going to be gone?”
“however long it takes to—“
“can i come with you?”
satoru pauses, and his eyes trail to you.
to you, where you’re standing in the doorway. you only know he’s leaving because of the suitcase, you only know that you can’t deal with him being gone again because of that feeling.
it’s reminiscent of packing your own bag at fifteen. of never returning home.
“you want to come?” satoru’s voice is too smooth, too unserious. “you hate planes. and what about work? you want to take your students too?”
“how long are you going to be gone?”
satoru sighs. he finally relents, walking over to you. his smile is a little irritated, tired. “it won’t take long,” he says, rubbing your shoulders. “you’ll get the bed all to yourself.”
“this is the fourth trip in the last three months.”
he tilts his head. “it’s the same amount as always.”
“it’s—“ you stop.
it’s different.
and your heart is racing, because you’re used to this feeling.
really, satoru has taken regular work trips for as long as you’ve known him. his passport is well used, his suitcase replaced almost once a year.
but it’s different.
because it used to be you, satoru, and the kids. it used to be you and the kids waiting at the door, talking about him behind his back, going to the airport to pick him up.
and even if you missed him, you knew that tsumiki missed him just as much. you knew that megumi was waiting for him to come back just the same—getting restless without someone there to mess with constantly.
it used to be you and the kids, when satoru was gone.
but now…
megumi is at school all week—and even when he comes home, it’s only to keep you happy. so that he can take a break from jujutsu, and sleeping in a dorm right next to yuji’s.
and tsumiki—
you stop thinking about that almost immediately.
it’s just not worth it.
when satoru leaves, you’re all alone.
“i wish you could come. you know how the higher ups are about—“
“why don’t you tell them no?”
satoru is wearing his blindfold, so you can’t see his eyes. but you see it as he leans back, looking at you curiously. “what?”
“tell them no. they’re scared of you, aren’t they? they’re not going to make you—“
“what other special grade sorcerer are they going to send?” he asks, shaking his head. “i hate them too, but if they need me—“
“i need you.”
satoru stops. you want to see his eyes—you want him to stay here.
you don’t want to walk around the house and chat with ghosts. you don’t want to be the only one left behind—the only one who has nothing else.
what about you? what’s supposed to happen to you when satoru leaves you behind?
he’s done it before, and he’ll do it again.
“what?”
“i don’t understand why you have to go,” you say, and you’re angry now. “i’m tired of your work trips, and i hate that you don’t even care, and i hate being in the house all alone—“
“what? what do you mean i don’t care?”
you pull away from him. just to do it first. “you don’t even try to get someone else to do it, you just leave—“
“why are you blaming me? i didn’t ask for this.”
“because you’re always gone! and i’m always alone, and you haven’t even asked me how i feel about it—“
“it’s not like i enjoy doing it,” he says, frowning. “i don’t like leaving you or the kids, it’s just work—“
“i think you do enjoy it,” you spit. and you know that you shouldn’t but, “you like being the only one that they can call. being the strongest. that’s why you haven’t told them no, that’s why—“
“what?”
“is it fun to leave the house? to escape for a week or two while i’m here to take care of everything?”
satoru scoffs. “are you kidding?”
“what? you can admit it. go on and leave. you’ve done it before, satoru.”
his jaw clenches. “if you don’t like being here,” he says, so soft—but you can feel it. the impending blow. “then go somewhere else.”
immediately, your body flinches back. you fall inwards, wanting nothing more than to fall back against him.
but it’s too late.
“i can’t help that im the strongest, i don’t enjoy leaving you—but ill do it because it’s my job. if you hate being alone, then find something else. go see megumi, or nanami, or—“
you take a step back, almost stumbling into the wall.
“you’re putting words in my mouth and i—“
but you don’t hear the rest of that sentence.
and maybe this is your fault. you shouldn’t have picked a fight, you shouldn’t have even said anything.
satoru isn’t to blame for your loneliness. he isn’t to blame for anything.
you turn around. and you walk out the door with shaking hands.
go somewhere else, he said.
and you will.
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artethyst · 3 days
Text
~ Leaves In A Sky Full Of Stars ~
Eris Vanserra x Rhysand’s Sister!Reader/OC
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₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
“Remind me again why we are here?” Eris grumbled, signature frown plastered upon his unamused face.
“Because,” you enunciated, turning you attention to the babbling bundle secured in your Mate’s arms, his innocent eyes drinking up the frosty scenery around him in awe. “Just look at how happy he is!”
As if to further your argument, little Silas appeared squeal in agreement, his tiny legs kicking in glee as the High Lord carefully adjusted his hold on his delighted son- the boy’s excitable wriggling sending his already paranoid heart racing.
He thought he looked ridiculous.
Togged up in Winter attire- even though he could regulate his own temperature, you had insisted he don the furs of the Court you had travelled to as it would be “courteous”.
You thought he looked adorable.
His pale cheeks flushed, the rosiness only serving to bring attention to the delicate spattering of freckles across his tall nose- the fluffy material over his ears.
“My son looks absurd.”
“Our son looks absolutely darling!”
The boy in question too was swaddled, though instead in a mini snowsuit- little tufts of his red curls peeking from the soft fur that lined his puffy hood.
If he was squishable before, he was absolutely coddle worthy now.
His grabby hands were warm as ever, being unable to regulate his powers so young, the familiar heart emanating from his small body was a welcome comfort in Kallias’ court.
At first you were worried he was overheating, absolutely terrifying Eris one night when you shook him awake, frantic and near tears over the sleeping babe who was content as could be- his father’s curls wild with sleep and chubby cheeks flushed in innocent delight.
“Eris he’s burning up!” You were hanging off your groggy husband’s bicep in terror, watching his tired face meld into one of exasperation as you both were comically peering over the babe. “I-I think he has a fever- we must get the Healer-”
“My Love,” he let out, a tired smile on his wearied face, “it is normal for an Autumn babe. Ask my mother, it was the same for me as was with all of my brothers.”
“But-“
“Darling, he is fine,” he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple whilst securing his hand around your waist, his other moving to hover over the baby’s rosy cheeks, absorbing some of the heat so his little face became a complexion your heart could handle. “See?”
You sighed, your thumb coming to skin over the perfect cheek of your infant, not wanting to leave him.
“Can…Can we have him in our room?”
Eris sighed, unable to prevent a tender half smile gracing his features.
“I thought we agreed with the Healers that it was best for him to remain in his own chambers, hmmm?”
You huffed, pouting up at your husband with those twinkling violet eyes he had never once had the strength to deny.
“I am High Lady am I not? I can do as a like.” You stuck your nose in the air as Eris chuckled lowly, careful to not disturb the cooing babe who gently stirred in his cot, with an attitude he could only compare to your brother’s.
“If it will settle your ridiculous fears, My Star, I will bring him to our chambers.”
“You’re only saying that because you wish to go to back sleep.”
“Who am I to argue with my High Lady, hmm?”
That seemed like so long ago, the babe in question now able to babble in almost intelligible sentences and hold up the weight of his own head.
“Viviane and Kallias are our friends-“
“Your friends. Frankly, I would much rather-“
“High Lord. High Lady.” Eris was cut off by a warm voice- starkly opposed to his icy appearance. Kallias’ strong hand was mirthfully brought to Eris’, who shook it back with a mirroring fervour despite his earlier words.
You had to fight back a laugh, struggling to ignore the vexation he was hurtling down the bond.
Behave, you spoke into his mind, you should be grateful they invited such a grumpy Firehead as you into their home.
You didn’t have to look back at your husband to know he had rolled his eyes, adjusting Silas on his hip as he begrudgingly followed Kallias, an undeniable ghost of smile on his downturned lips as his son began cooing in awe at the glimmering structure they were entering.
“Dada!” He grinned, his little dimple pulling Eris from his mood, “brrrr!” A chubby finger pointed at the glacial carvings as he mimicked the noise you had been teaching him to help learn the seasons.
“Yes Silas, very clever. It is indeed cold.” Eris pressed a light kiss to Silas’ head, causing the babe to giggle, the noise a welcome salvation to the High Lord.
“Brrr!Brrr!”
“Precisely why I wanted to stay in Autumn…” Eris mumbled, agreeing with his son continued to note how freezing the temperature was.
“Brrr!”
At the sweet sound, you smiled back at the pair, pausing your conversation with Kallias to look upon your favourite boys, so alike in appearance it was sometimes scary.
“He wants you to say it,” you watched as the older male’s face contorted, perhaps finally understanding why his son kept repeating the noise. “He likes it when you copy him.”
“Brrr!” The boy said again, his wide eyes hopeful as he stared up at his father who, if anyone, could never deny his son.
“Yes Silas…Brrrr.” Eris relented, his voice notably dropping in volume as he made the noise, refusing to look you in the eye as you gave the other High Lord a wicked grin.
“You were not wrong High Lady,” Kallias smiled, “the High Lord of Autumn truly is powerless when it comes to his family.”
~
After a lengthy stroll around the grounds, you all joined Viviane in the drawing room. She squealed and brought you into a vivacious embrace, words tumbling from her mouth before you’d even had the chance to remove yourself from her iron grip.
“Oh I have missed you so! I have so much to tell you-“ it was then she let out a soft gasp, spotting Silas squirming in Eris’ arms. “Oh my! He has gotten so big!” She cried, moving to swoop him from Eris’ arms who you noticed was especially reluctant to hand him over.
You had noted that he had become increasingly territorial and protective over his son since his birth, at first thinking it was only because there had been a chance he was going to die, but even after Madja had saved him- you both, his worries had only grown.
You knew why.
Even if he never admitted it out loud. That despite everything- all his efforts to undo the suffering his father had caused, he still had many enemies.
Enemies that would love nothing more than to hurt him by taking away the things he loved most.
Silas frowned as he was transferred into the loud woman’s arms, his father’s infamous frown plastered ridiculously on his teeny tiny face.
Viviane attempted to make him smile, bouncing him on her hip and giving his little freckled cheek a gentle, cool peck.
“Do not mind him Vi,” you teased, finding your place in Eris’ free arms as he secured you against his chest immediately out of habit. “He has inherited more than just his looks from his father.”
And your words appeared to have a double meaning when your son’s grumpiness fell apart just as quickly as Viviane could coax it out of him with extra cuddles- just like The Lady of Autumn had assured you her own son had been a complete softie for at that age.
~
Eris payed little attention to the words Kallias was spewing- a proposed trade agreement that would be advantageous for both sides involved. He was far more focused on the glass of alcohol that was rather difficult to source in Autumn, hoping to be done sooner rather than later so he could spend so time with you and Silas’ without politics looming over his already troubled mind.
He took a small swig from his goblet, relaxing as the liquid warmed his throat, his slender hand coming to skim against his jaw as he read over the papers he had been presented with.
“You are lucky Eris,” Kallias spoke with honesty, causing the auburn haired male to look up at him and follow the other male’s eye-line to the grand window which displayed the winter gardens below where the two females and young boy were playing. “I remember a time where many High Lords- myself included, would have done anything for the Princess’ hand.”
Though a harmless comment, it made Eris’ blood boil. His possessiveness never once dwindling since the bond had first snapped for him all those centuries ago.
“I know.” Was all he replied, a smugness to his tone which complimented his signature smirk which did not fail to falter his façade. “I am a very lucky male indeed.”
“Years ago my wife told me she wished she possessed the kind of love you both do,” his tone was wistful as he watched his own mate with a biting fondness in his eye. “A passionate, suffocating kind of bond. One I was once afraid might melt a heart such as mine.”
“Careful, High Lord,” Eris’ smirk grew, “from experience, I must advise you. It is never wise to deny a lady’s desires.”
Kallias laughed, removing his gaze from Viviane who was making delicate snowflakes and sending them gently whirring against Silas’ button nose which had turned pink from the cold.
“We are trying for one ourselves…” Eris interpreted from his tone that it was a difficult subject, Fae pregnancies were rare and testing, even without the stresses of ruling a Court. “We can only hope they will be as much as a blessing as young Silas.”
It was Eris’ turn to become wistful then, focusing on his own Mate, even from afar catching the charming blush atop her fresh complexion as she twirled about the snow with their son.
Their son.
A phrase he had never thought he’d have the pleasure of saying.
“You are a steadfast man, Kallias. Your wife brings so much joy to my own I can only begin to imagine what a delight your offspring would bring her.”
Kallias knew that was as close as any compliment he could wrangle from the man, so clasped him on the shoulder with a heartfelt nod as Eris moved beside him, freshly signed papers left on the desk as they both stared at their entire worlds.
Eris knew, in that moment, watching as his son waddled across the pale terrain to his mother, who crouched down with awaiting arms, the expression he loved most written all over her breathtaking face, that there was nothing worth living for, if not them.
276 notes · View notes
leilanihours · 3 days
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could u write something based of dress by Taylor Swift for Caitlin?
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# DRESS
pairing: caitlin clark x wnba draftee/former teammate!reader
word count: 3790
warnings: smut with long plot beforehand (MDNI), drinking
summary: after a long day of unbelievable success, you end the night with your girlfriend in the best way possible.
from lani: first smut kinda nervous! also the word count..mightve cooked w this one idk lmk! oh also the dress in the third pic is what i was picturing but u do u ofc!
“MAKING THEIR WAY down the orange carpet now, caitlin clark and her former teammate, y/n l/n! these two have been best friends since the very beginning of their college careers, practically glued to each other’s side at all times.”
as you trail behind your girlfriend past cameras and reporters, you try to think of a more thrilling moment than this, failing miserably. with caitlin expected to be the number one pick of the draft and yourself to be the number two pick, all eyes were on you two. but with your relationship being private, you’re stuck playing the role of best friends. you stop in front of a few photographers with caitlin, posing for pictures - some solo and some together.
“y/n! caitlin! step a little closer to each other will you?” you hear one of the female photographers exclaim.
you glance at your girlfriend, silently asking her if she’s okay with the gesture. you know how big of a reputation she has, so any wrong move could send it up in flames. same goes for you, but you valued caitlin’s success more at the moment. before you can politely deny the photographer, caitlin’s large hand is placed on your waist and pulling you closer to her. you quickly place one of your hands on her upper back, the whole exchange appearing very friendly. but let’s just say you didn’t want her as a best friend, only something more.
it seems that you have pleased all the photographers from the rush of flashes, buttons clicking, and cheers, so the two of you break apart and make your way to the end of the carpet. there waited a sea of reporters and interviewers, eager to ask questions about both of your basketball careers and, no doubt, your close “friendship.”
as you walk gracefully to the first reporter, you are halted by a familiar touch on your arm. turning around, you see caitlin gazing at you carefully. she walks up to you and urges you to come closer. you’re the same height as her, but you still go insane whenever she leans down to whisper in your ear, like she is now.
“you doin’ okay, babe?”
“of course,” you reply, taking a step back to look her in the eyes, “you okay?”
nothing could’ve prepared you for what she was about to way next.
“i will be once i get this dress off of you tonight,” she smirks, a hint of desire and hunger in her voice. once again, her eyes scan your figure. talk about deja vu, right?
———
“caitlin! can you help me zip up my dress, please?” you yell to the bedroom portion of your shared hotel room. you were currently fixing yourself up to head to the draft, but having difficulty reaching the upper part of your torso to close your dress. 
your dress. one that you specifically picked out because you knew caitlin would love it. it was a big day for her, for both of you, but you really wanted to make it special for her. it was a long silk maxi dress in a champagne color. there was a small cutout right below the crease of your chest, the area accentuated by a small black trim. the straps matching the trim were thin, as if they could be easily slipped down at any moment. the fit of the dress was flowy at the bottom but tight from the waist up to highlight all your best curves. your purposely chose not to wear a jacket or cardigan with plans of having caitlin’s blazer draped over your arms later that night.
“coming!” you hear back. you’re putting in your gold earrings as she makes her way into the large hotel bathroom. your gaze is focused on the mirror in front of you, not wanting to poke your ear as you insert the statement jewelry. caitlin freezes, immediately sizing you up in your full glory. she takes mental note of the dip in your back, the sculpt of your toned arms, the way your hips were practically begging for her touch. if you saw the way she was looking at you, you would’ve let her take you right there.
you straighten your posture as you feel caitlin step behind you carefully, hands resting lightly on your waist, as if she’s fighting to hold back. she delicately moves your hair to one side of your neck, placing small kisses across your shoulder and back.
“hi,” she whispers in your ear.
“hi back,” you smile.
“this all for me?”
“mhm,” your eyes flutter shut as your feel her lips ghost over a specific spot on your neck, “only you, cait.”
“you look amazing, baby,” she says, eyes darkening, “this dress, i mean it’s incredible, but it would look better on the floor, don’t you think?”
she sounds out of breath, like she’s desperate to show you what she means. you feel your entire body heat up as you keep your eyes locked on hers in the mirror. slowly, her long fingers trace down your spine to the zipper, leaving goosebumps on your skin from her cold touch. you shiver from both her icy strokes and the thought of what she would do to you later.
after placing one last kiss at the nape of your neck, she spins you around so that you’re facing her. her brown eyes hover over every aspect of your face, every detail of your appearance. she finds herself memorizing all of it since she knows she won’t be able to observe you this close until the late hours of the night, away from the burning eyes of the public.
———
you blush feverishly at the memory, already missing her touch like crazy. before you can respond, caitlin is called over to a nearby interviewer. she looks down at you one last time before leaving your side. for a second you’re left standing awkwardly until a reporter beckons you to them. you fix your hair and make your way over, preparing yourself to dodge any particularly personal questions. the reporter in question was a young lady who looked only a few years older than you. she beams a bright smile in your direction as she reaches her hand out to shake yours. you smile politely and wait for her to speak.
“we are here tonight with the incredible y/n l/n, one of the most dedicated of women’s college basketball, and soon to be women’s national basketball,” she exclaims to the camera as she moves to your side, “there’s a lot of buzz circulating your presence here, how are you feeling tonight, y/n?
“i’m feeling pretty great, thanks for asking,” you grin sincerely, “i’m super pumped to be a part of the draft and i’ve been waiting for this my whole life so i don’t think anything could top this moment.”
“amazing to hear, i’m glad you’re enjoying yourself so far. speaking of waiting your whole life to be drafted, what was the moment that made you decide you wanted to be a part of the wnba?”
“honestly, i’ve been in love with the league for as long as i can remember, so i guess since i was a little girl. i still remember the first time my dad took me to a sparks game like it was yesterday, so hopefully i can fulfill my dream of becoming one of them by the end of the night.” 
“how touching! it seems like your family has been a big part of your journey, how else have they shaped your identity?”
“i mean, they’ve been my rock literally since day 1 so they’ve changed my life in more ways than i can count. off the top of my head, my dad was the one who got me interested in basketball, took me to my early morning practices and late afternoon games as i grew up. my mom, who was never a big sports fan, was always my loudest cheerleader at every single game. my older sister was my rebound when i was putting in the work in our backyard at home. even my dog, lacy, wears my jersey at home games so i’ve really felt the love and support my whole life.”
“and we all will continue to show that love and support as you grow in the wnba. have a great night, y/n, thank you for chatting with us,” the woman finishes. 
you smile proudly. your fanbase has always had your back and you’re beyond grateful that they are following you to new heights. as you walk away from the interviewer and down the carpet ready for more, you are stopped by someone calling your name. spinning around, you are ushered over to where caitlin is currently getting interviewed.
“hey guys!” you cheer as you stand next to caitlin. the middle-aged man before you is practically shaking with excitement, knowing that he is actually talking to two of the biggest stars of women’s college ball.
“what an honor it is to get to talk to both of you,” he beams, “are you two aware that you are single-handedly carrying women’s sports right now?”
“hey, i mean it’s super cool to be able to inspire so many young women and help gain respect for women’s athletics so it’s all thumbs up from me,” you reply.
“i agree, there’s no better feeling than being able to change lives and leave such a significant legacy. and i think i can speak for the both of us when i say there’s really no way to top how we feel right now,” caitlin adds.
“i mean, i can think of a couple ways,” the man begins, “and it involves being the first and second picks tonight. y/n, i’ve talked about it with caitlin but i’m curious, are you ready to be selected by the sparks as the number 2 overall pick?”
“i’m flattered, thank you, but there’s really no telling what the lineup will be,” i say truthfully, “would it be an honor and dream fulfilled if i get picked by them? no doubting it. but i just don’t wanna get my hopes up, you know what i mean?”
“she’s just being polite, of course she’s gonna get picked,” caitlin grins playfully.
“yeah, y/n, give yourself more credit! you have had an amazing season this year, the sparks would suffer a huge loss if they didn’t select you.”
“thank you so much, really, it means a lot to hear that.”
———
“with the second pick in the 2024 wnba draft, the los angeles sparks select y/n l/n, university of iowa.”
as soon as those words leave the commissioner’s mouth, you can’t imagine life is real. you let out a heavy sigh, shoulders immediately relaxing as you hear your name called. this is all you’ve ever wanted. and now you have it. happy tears begin to prick your eyes as you stand up from your seat to hug your family. it’s a euphoric feeling really, and you couldn’t be more happy.
“you can see the emotion on y/n’s face as she celebrates with her family,” you hear the announcer declare, “the number 2 overall pick, who will get to return to her home city in california after a decorated career at iowa with multiple outstanding records broken.”
walking up to the podium to receive your jersey, you feel a couple tears of joy fall on your cheeks. anyone who knows you can see that you are wearing the biggest smile, the emotion behind it outshining every other. 
stepping up onto the stage, you pose next to the commissioner, the both of you holding the los angeles sparks jersey with pride. thanking the kind lady, you swiftly make your way through the tables and hug your former coaching staff thanking them quickly for everything they’ve done for you. 
“and if you want rebounding and rim protection, you can’t get much better than y/n l/n,” another announcer says, “she has been a trailblazer these past few seasons, completely flipping the reputation of women’s sports on its head with almost 900 total rebounds in her collegiate career, 5 blocks per game, averaged about 13 boards a game, as well. 
“she is going to be great in the wnba right away. this young woman has an unbelievable skill set as well as physical attributes. 6’0, long, strong, and elite when it comes to shot blocking and rebounding. y/n l/n is the exact player that the la sparks can use.”
———
the after-party is as energetic as can be. bottles of champagne are popping, friends are screaming, music is blasting. the environment is completely unmatched as you soak in the celebration and accomplishments. the party in question is being held on the rooftop of a new york city hotel, the view outside the full-length windows breath-taking.
you are currently pushed into a circle of your fellow draftees: angel reese, cameron brink, kamilla cardoso, nika muhl, and of course, your girlfriend, caitlin clark. you somehow got roped into doing a full round of shots, a tiny glass of straight liquor sitting on the table before you. you and the girls clink your glasses together with cheers of gratification and congratulations, the entire affair filling your being with serotonin.
downing the shot with ease, you turn to caitlin as her hand finds its home at the small of your back. eye contact held, your mind drifts back to her promise from earlier that day.
“can we go outside for a bit?” you hear her mumble in your ear, “needa take a breather.”
she’s a little bit more than tipsy - her words are slurred, shortened. and she’s wearing a sloppy side smile. but you aren’t complaining. drunk caitlin was truly a sight, and more touchy than normal. you’re definitely far gone as well, possibly more than her. your body internally shakes with anticipation at the thought of what could happen as the night progresses.
as you dismiss yourselves from the group, you make your way to the exterior of the building and find yourselves overlooking the beautiful cityscape below. you can still hear and feel the bass booming from the speakers inside. the hum of the vibrations contributing to the literal and physical buzz surging through your body. the cold eastern air makes you shake. your girlfriend notices almost immediately, shrugging off her blazer to wrap around your shoulders. she kisses you on the cheek and moves closer to you.
“why didn’t you bring a jacket, y/n?” she asks.
“must’ve slipped my mind,” yeah right.
“i’m so proud of you,” caitlin says after a beat of silence, “you know that?”
“i do,” you reply, “i’m so proud of you, too. you have no idea.”
“seriously though…can you believe we did it?”
“not really. i’m still waiting for someone to pinch me and wake me up from this dream.”
“i know, right?” she says with a laugh, “did you hear they’re retiring our numbers?”
“really? both of ours?” you were only expecting caitlin’s to be retired, not your own. after the career she’s had, no one questioned it.
“yes, both of ours,” she responds in a duh tone, “you gotta give yourself more credit, i’m telling you. you could do literally anything and everything, and i need you to know that.”
her words make you emotional beyond words with tears threatening to fall for what seemed like the 50th time tonight. you decide to change the subject, afraid that if you continue the conversation you’ll start sobbing (again).
“yeah?” you smirk, mood shifting, “you talk a big game about how much you love me. how ‘bout you put your money where your mouth is and show me?”
you turn your head to face her only to see her already looking at you, eyes dark despite being illuminated by the city lights.
“don’t start something you can’t finish,” she challenges.
“i thought i could do anything?” you tease, quoting her own words.
wordlessly, she grabs your hand and pulls you back inside, only to lead you to the elevators of the hotel. there we go.
———
your hands shake with anticipation as you swipe your key card to get into your room. you’ve just barely stepped into the room before caitlin is kicking the door closed and shoving you roughly against it, her eager set of lips pressed against yours. her large hands grip your waist animalistically, slightly riding up your dress. you let out a moan at the contact you’ve been desperately pining for the entire day. the sound provokes caitlin as she bites down on your lower lip.
she breaks the kiss and takes her hands off of you to remove the jacket she gave you earlier. you can barely get a full breath in before she’s marking your neck, collarbone, and chest. you seize the opportunity to take off her silver top, only to learn that she wasn’t wearing a bra. your hands fly up to her chest, admiring her soft skin.
now it’s her turn to moan as your cold fingers brush against her nipples. pushing your hands away, she urges you away from the door and toward the bed. before pushing you on the mattress, she unzips your dress to disregard the fabric. underneath, she’s greeted with a white lacy lingerie set.
“y/n..” she breathes out, scanning your body.
the way she says your name makes time stop, and amongst the chaos from the day’s events, you are stilled. time resumes when she shoves you on the silky blanket of the king-sized bed, her lips immediately finding yours once again.
“you’re overdressed,” you mumble between kisses. she automatically backs away from you to take off her skirt, throwing it somewhere behind her.
she pulls on your bra strap, silently asking to take it off. sitting up, you reach behind your back to unclasp it while she decides to take off your underwear. she tugs you to the edge of the bed and sinks down before you, leaving a hot trail of kisses down your entire body.
“gonna make you feel so good, baby,” she mumbles against your skin, “show you how proud i am.”
she makes good on her promise, immediately getting to work on your clit. her tongue flicks against the bud, forcing a loud moan out of your mouth. the action alone was enough to make you come, but she just had to insert a finger into your soaking entrance.
you’ve seen her on the court and with a basketball, obviously, so you know how skilled she is with her hands. you let out a whimper at the thought of you being the only one to experience it on a whole new level.
“fuck, cait,” you pant, chest heaving.
as she adds another finger, she looks up at you from between your legs, and caitlin being the cocky motherfucker she is, smirks, the sight making you throw your head back in pleasure.
“that good, babe?”
“so good- shit.” one of your hands drifts up to your chest, squeezing it to add to the pleasure.
caitlin continues pumping her fingers in and out of you, curling her fingers every now and then. she places rough kisses on your inner thighs, leaving dark purple marks everywhere her lips touch. you feel your stomach tense up, signaling your climax. somehow she senses it, too.
“you gonna come, y/n? huh?” she says, “gonna come on my fingers?”
you nod, not being able to form words at the moment. she chuckles darkly at your state, both of your positions a stark contrast from a few hours prior. after a few more seconds, you feel the knot in your stomach burst as you release with a yell. this doesn’t stop caitlin, of course, her long fingers still hitting that special spot in your cunt.
as you begin to come down from your high, she removes her fingers to place them in her mouth and licks them, eyes closing in pleasure at your taste.
“did so good for me, baby,” she says as she stands back up to kiss you. she makes her way over to the head of the bed, as if she’s right to call it a night.
“what are you doing?” you ask her.
“going to sleep?”
“absolutely not,” you demand.
you push her against the pillows, relishing in the way her long brown hair is spread out as she lays with nothing but her underwear on. you straddle her defined waist and bend down to kiss her. 
while she’s distracted, you sneak your hands down to remove her underwear and push your thumb against her clit. she’s surprised by the action, biting your lip and moaning into your mouth.
you sit back up and scoot backwards so that your pussy is just above hers. you both adjust your positions so that your pussies align, instantly moaning out loud at the new feeling.
“shittt,” caitlin groans.
the sighs that leave her lips are music to your ears, but the mix of curses and borderline pornographic moans she lets out is your favorite song. you can’t explain this feeling with words as you rock your hips sensually, the wetness from either of you making the process easy.
“you feel so good against me, cait,” you moan, “so fucking good, holy shit.”
“yeah? you like grinding your pussy against me?” she teases as her hands come up to grab your tits, “fuck- looking like a perfect slut riding me.”
as your clits brush against each other, you moan out simultaneously. you begin to pick up your pace, desperate for a release. your hips buck against her rapidly, chasing that high you search for whenever you’re like this with her.
“fuck, baby, just like that,” caitlin sighs, “fucking me so damn good.” her back arches and her hips buck up, equally ready to come.
soon enough the pleasure gets too intense, making you release on caitlin’s pussy and thighs, her own climax not far behind. you continue to move against her, slower, as you begin to calm down. as your breathing steadies, you climb into bed next to your girlfriend and rest your head against her chest. she places a loving kiss on your head, silently thanking you for everything. you snuggle even closer to her, inhaling her sweet scent.
“i love you so much, y/n,” she whispers into your hair.
“i love you, too, caitlin,” you say as you are slowly coaxed to sleep.
she’s thinking back to when she said that nothing would ever top being the number one draft pick, but being here, with her arms wrapped tightly around you, knocks it out of first place easily.
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agent-cupcake · 18 hours
Text
Amen
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Pairing: Suguru Geto x f! Reader
Synopsis: No matter the severity of your actions, Suguru would never actually hurt a member of his sorcerer family. Luckily, there are other ways he can think of to punish you. It's for your own good.
Warnings: Explicit smut, dubcon, possessive behavior, manipulation
Tags: Punishment, edging, orgasm denial, overstimulation, dirty talk, vibrators, bondage, orgasm torture, cunnilingus, humiliation
Word Count: 10.4k
Notes: This story is for @laurenzel. I think this can be almost seen as a companion to my previous Gojo story since there's similar toxic motives and means used by the men, but a difference in method.
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“Would you care to join me tonight?” was what Geto said to you, smiling so sweetly, so gently. He said it like an offer, or a question, but you both knew the answer. It was the same as it had been since the very first time he asked, since the first time he kissed you, since the first night you spent together.
And you, finally given direction in the big, confusing world, couldn’t even conceive of saying no to Geto. You didn’t have to do, say, or think anything on your own—just follow him. And you did. Happily, you did, thinking nothing of the offer other than how pleased you were that he asked. 
Chills prickled over your bare arms and legs when you walked into his room. The air felt a few degrees too cool, especially when you were accustomed to the August heat. Everything about his room seemed cold. It was furnished in stark contrast to the simple, traditional temple façade the rest of the complex maintained outwardly. Black painted walls, a hard floor, and ebony furniture upholstered with dark leathers and suedes. There was a flat, modern utilitarianism to the room despite its luxury, all at once inviting and off putting. The silky black sheets and dusky saturation of velvety vanilla and citrus lent a sex appeal to the room that you inextricably associated with Geto.
“Will you help me with this?” he asked, gesturing to his clothes. 
“Yes, of course,” you said, rushing to his side to help him undress. Even though the vestments Geto wore were for show, the articles were genuine and required careful handling. A perfect costume needed to be authentic. You unfastened the kasaya first, hanging it up. 
“I think,” he said while your hands were busy, “we need to talk about what you did.” 
You paused, turning to him with your brow furrowed, your stomach dropping in response to the accusatory tone of his voice. “What did I do?” 
“You killed Kurokawa.” 
Your frown deepened, your chest tightening with a harsh burst of guilt. “How do you know that?” 
Geto raised an eyebrow. That was the wrong thing to ask, it made you look more guilty than you were. Besides, the answer was obvious. He knew everything. You shook your head fast, trying to come up with an explanation that didn’t sound like an excuse. 
 “I… I thought you would be happy I took care of him,” you said. “He was causing trouble. He was a bad man.” 
“If you thought I would be pleased, why didn’t you tell me right away?” 
There were reasons, weren’t there? Good ones, explanations that could help you smooth this over. Beneath the weight of his gaze, you couldn’t think of any of them. “I… I don’t, um…  I was going to, but I didn’t want to distract you or anything. I’m not… I didn’t mean-”
“No. You didn’t tell me because you knew you were wrong,” Geto stated, telling you so directly that you couldn’t help but believe it.  
“I’m sorry,” you said softly. 
“To be clear, I’m not concerned with his death,” Geto told you. “I’m worried about you. About what you might do without my intervention. I have been for a while.”  
“I don’t… I don’t understand,” you said. That was probably the most true thing you could say, the sentiment that defined your existence. You did not understand. 
“I like to think that you’ve grown since you joined the family, but sometimes I don’t know if I can trust you to act with a clear head. Kurokawa was a doctor, wasn’t he?” 
You bristled at the reminder, mentally pushing back on the idea that you did it for such a personal reason. “He was… he was dangerous,” you argued. “He wanted to get the police involved.” 
“That isn’t my point,” Geto explained. “You acted out on your own. I knew Kurokawa was causing problems, but I didn't ask you to kill him. He still had value to me, in his own way." He paused, considering you with pursed lips. "If you told me what you did immediately, maybe I wouldn’t jump to conclusions, but as it is, all this proves is that you haven’t moved beyond your past experiences. I can’t trust you."
You bit your lip, swaying back as if those words had been a physical blow, only becoming more confused. Completely and utterly confused about how killing somebody who was a bad man, killing a hateful monkey upset Geto. You did it for him. You did it because the man was evil, and because he said terrible things, and because he was a hideous embodiment of the type of person who would see you locked up tight in another drug dispensing, mind-numbing, monkey hospital. 
All you could understand was that you had disappointed Geto, and the cutting violence of his doubt cut deep into your chest as physically as a knife. 
“I’m sorry,” you said again.
“Are you going to finish this?” Geto asked rather than acknowledge your apology, pulling at his collar. You nodded, rushing back to his side to untie the obi sash and fold it, helping him shrug off his black yukata to hang that up as well.
Left in a tight undershirt, a pair of loose pants, and socks he was quick to peel off and toss aside, Geto-sama emerged from his costume looking a decade younger and twice as dangerous. Like this, he was Suguru. You weren’t equals, but you were more than a little familiar. Although, you weren’t sure if you would dare to be so friendly with him now that you understood you were in trouble.
Before, you assumed you were here because he desired you. Now that felt presumptuous and silly.   
You averted your eyes and stepped back, waiting for the other shoe to drop. The silence physically hurt. Apologies built up like a dam in your head, stopping any other sort of thought from getting through as guilt brewed and boiled in your stomach. Worse, you couldn’t say he was wrong. Maybe you had knowingly acted against Geto, against the family, because of what Kurokawa represented to you. Maybe you couldn’t be trusted. And, if that was true, maybe you deserved his anger and all of the terrible things that followed anger.     
“Are you nervous?” Suguru asked. 
“No,” you said quickly. 
“Liar. I can hear it. Your heart is racing. You’re scared. Is it me?” He nudged your chin up with the side of his hand, forcing you to meet his eyes and the little smile he wore. “Are you frightened of me?” 
“You’re angry,” you said, shrinking back. “Angry with me.”
“Oh,” Suguru hummed thoughtfully, “so you’re scared that I’m going to punish you. Is that it?” 
Hesitantly, you nodded. 
“You’re right, I am.” 
Your breath caught before you shook your head fast, panicking. “No, you… I’m really sorry. I mean it, I was just trying to… He deserved to die.”
“I understand,” Suguru said, “and I appreciate what you say you were trying to do. The problem is that I don’t believe that was your motive. That is why I’m upset.” He ran his fingers through his hair, putting into a messy bun. “Do you understand the distinction?”
You blinked fast, feeling the horrible bite of tears stinging the corners of your eyes. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now… what do you think would be a fitting punishment?” 
You looked up at him in stark shock, hoping desperately that you misunderstood him. He didn’t clarify anything, simply waiting for you to answer. You shook your head again, your mouth opening and closing before you managed a meek, “I don’t know.” 
“But you agree, don’t you?” he asked, going over to his chest of drawers. Suguru looked at you over his shoulder, eying you up and down, drinking your awkward nerves. “You deserve to be punished for your disobedience.”
You exhaled sharply, conflicted about what kind of answer to give. More importantly, what kind of answer he wanted. If you were smarter, you would be able to talk your way out of this situation. If you were better attuned to Suguru’s needs, you would be able to give him what he wanted. If you were loyal, he wouldn’t have been mad in the first place. Those thoughts weren’t helpful, all you could do was stare and try to solve the puzzle of his mood. You had seen that little smirk on his face when he teased Nanako, but also when he killed non-jujutsu sorcerers that had outlived their usefulness. 
“You’re really asking me?” you finally got out, the only response you could muster.
His back was turned to you now as he looked through the drawer, but you saw his shoulder raise in a casual shrug. “I’m curious.” 
 Your gut instinct was to deny that you deserved punishment to try and spare yourself, but you held that impulse. You had already agreed that you did something wrong, so denying that you deserved punishment could make things worse. Then again, if you agreed, then maybe he would take that as permission to do even worse. Either one could potentially upset him too, because it would prove that you didn’t know what he wanted. Suguru did nothing to alleviate your nervous indecision as he turned around, holding an unmarked red box, watching you with that enigmatic smirk.
“If you think I do,” you said carefully, “then-”
“No,” he said, cutting you off. “I am asking if you acknowledge that you deserve punishment for what you have done.”
“I won’t do it again,” you told him, your voice soft. “I promise.” 
Suguru frowned. “That’s not what I asked.”
“I know, but it’s true,” you insisted. Rather than relent to your distress, his eyes narrowed dangerously, finally giving you some indication about the response he actually wanted. “I do!” You said quickly. “I…” The words were thick like syrup, awkward to get out. “I deserve to be punished.” 
Suguru smiled, setting the box on the bed and sitting on the black leather footboard bench, his legs spread wide and comfortable and head slightly tilted.  
“Are you going to hurt me?” you asked softly.
“Hurt you?” Suguru asked, raising a thin eyebrow. “I would never hurt you. I don’t think you’re likely to learn from pain anyway, hm? It wasn’t effective for your parents or doctors.”
“But… but you said you were going to punish me?” you asked, looking between him and the box with an increasing amount of anxiety. 
“Take off your clothes.”
Your jaw dropped. “I… My… You mean it?” 
He raised both eyebrows, daring you to deny him. You clutched at the front of your dress, your shoulders curling in. 
“But why?” you asked. He immediately gave you a pointed look, like you were stupid. “This… it’s… You want to…?” You couldn’t even finish the question, the whole thing was so divorced from any coherence you could wrap your head around. 
“You're allowed to say no and leave, I won’t stop you,” Suguru told you. He considered that for a moment, his head falling to the side. “If you stay, we’ll switch to your safe word rather than no. You remember it, don’t you?”
Safe word? You remembered him establishing that the first night he allowed you into his bed, but you hadn’t really thought much of it. Why would you ever want him to stop? Now the thought of it made you feel a little cold, and not because of the air conditioner valiantly chugging away in an attempt to keep the August heat at bay. It had taken a few days to come to terms with sleeping with Suguru after it first happened, but this was unreal in an entirely different way. You felt like you were looking down a very long, dark tunnel, like you were hopelessly and utterly lost.   
“I do,” you said faintly. “I remember.” 
“It’s your choice then.” 
You winced, unable to look at him. You weren’t going to leave. That was unthinkable. The idea of undressing in front of him like it was some sort of show wasn’t especially comfortable either, but you understood that you would do it. “That’s… it’s embarrassing.”
“I’ve noticed,” Suguru said. “You don’t want to think of yourself as the type of woman who would strip for a man. But you are, and you will. For me.”
You flushed darker, avoiding his eyes. Trying to keep your breathing from going completely out of control, you nodded. It was easier to obey. You wouldn’t know what you would do if you left his room right now, where you would go, how you would feel. It wasn’t about you, it was about what you had done to disappoint Suguru, and how you would make it right. He wanted to know that you were loyal, that you had left behind the pathetic wretch you used to be. 
Humiliating as it was, he was helping you. That was all he had ever done. 
“Yes, sir.” 
With shaking hands, you unzipped your dress. Considering the summer heat, you were wearing as little as possible. Three articles of clothing separating you from his eyes. You weren’t sure if that was better, making it so the process of undressing wasn’t so drawn out, or worse because it meant you couldn’t stall. 
“Keep going,” Suguru said when you hesitated with your thumbs hooked beneath the waistband of your panties. Closing your eyes, you pushed them down. The only positive you could think of was that you had the foresight to shave the night before. Ever since the first night you slept together you’d been taking personal grooming extremely seriously. Removing your bra was the worst of it all, but you dutifully undid the clasps and pushed the straps down your arms. He had seen you naked before, you reasoned. Even if you were disappointing, he still had asked to see you. It was fine. 
If Suguru wanted it, it was fine.
“You’re too pretty to be so self-conscious,” he told you in a very calm, matter-of-fact way. 
You tried not to shuffle awkwardly, clasping your hands in front of your stomach to hide their shaking. “Thank you,” you said softly, unable to meet his eyes even if you could feel them heavily on your flushing skin. 
“Come here,” Suguru ordered. In your peripheral, you saw his hand raise, a single finger curling to draw you towards him. 
You obeyed on awkward feet, glad to close the distance. He sat up to meet you face to face, having to look up at you for once and pulling you closer. You automatically parted your lips to kiss him. That was something you knew how to do. But his parted lips only brushed the corner of your mouth. When you tried to tilt your head to catch him, Suguru pulled back. Your eyes fluttered open—when had you closed them?—to see him smirking at the little trick. 
“Get on the bed,” he ordered, releasing you.
Nerves knotted and tangled in your stomach. There was something hot about his detached control, but you weren’t sure you liked it either. Vulnerability was discomfort. And still, you knew better than to argue or question. Trying to preserve as much of your modesty as was possible, you got onto his bed. It was easier to comply. Better to be obedient like he wanted. You didn’t want to disappoint him again. 
“These are for you,” Suguru said, finally revealing the contents of the red box by lifting the glossy lid. 
You stared into the box with curiosity, and then with a sharp pang of recognition. After that, nerves. Dread. Excitement. Blinking over and over didn’t change what you saw, there was no mistake about what lay inside. A lot of leather. Some chains. Scarf-like ties. You were pretty sure the wand-shaped item was a vibrator. 
Suguru choked you last time you had sex, and he pinned your wrists down and pulled your hair and left marks on your thighs and chest, but this was different. Dangerous. This was scary. 
“Geto-sama…” you said nervously, sticking to the formal address in the hopes that he would understand the sincerity of your doubt. “I’m not…”
“As I said, you’re allowed to stop this at any time,” he said, dropping the lid back onto the box with a crisp snap. “I would never force you into anything. If you truly feel bad for what you have done and want to prove yourself to me, I shouldn’t need to coerce you.”
Guilt and nerves writhed in your stomach. And excitement, always excitement for the simple reason that it was Suguru. You would do anything for him, wouldn’t you? He had saved you. You disappointed him, it was only right that you did as you were told. You pushed the lid off again, forcing a sort of resolve. Your heart beat like a frantic war drum in your chest, and you were flushing so hotly it felt like a fever. 
“What’s this all for?” you asked, your voice hoarse. 
“You won’t be able to hold still on your own,” he replied simply. “Besides, I think you’ll look sexy like this. I was waiting for an opportunity to try it.” 
The bottom of your stomach gave way to anxious lust. You licked your lips, trying to calm yourself down. 
“Okay,” you said softly. 
“Put them on for me,” Suguru said, pulling out four of the leather cuffs. Your eyes widened, your lips parting to argue that as a step too far. It would be so much easier for you if he did it himself, if you didn’t have to actively engage with putting yourself in a literal bind. 
Although maybe that was the point. This was punishment. 
Prove your loyalty. You could do that for him. 
Despite your forced mental affirmation, the whole task seemed too daunting for a moment, you had a nervously suffocating sense like drowning, but you forced that down. You would do anything for Suguru. That’s what this was about. Proving to him that you were loyal, that you would do as he said. That you were devoted.  
You did the wrist cuffs first, slipping the first over your left hand and tightening the strap with your right. There was only one size; they would fit snugly. Thick chains hung from both cuffs. Although they weren’t as bad as pure metal bracelets, the leather wouldn’t be kind to your skin if you resisted too much. Tightening the strap on the right cuff was even worse since you were working with your non-dominant hand. 
“Do you need help?” Suguru asked, laughing at your frustrated attempts to get the tongue through the buckle. 
“Don’t laugh, please,” you begged, talking very softly to hide your increasingly unstable emotions. “I’m trying.” 
“Here,” he said indulgently, “let me.” Suguru held out his hands for you to let him finish securing the cuff. “Do you need help with your ankles?”
“No, I… Thank you,” you said, unable to look at his expression. You could do this. You had to do this. 
Still, your hands trembled unsteadily. When you nervously fumbled with the leather strap around your ankle, he laughed again. 
“Don’t look,” you mumbled. The chains hanging from your wrists playfully clinked against the chains on your ankles.  
“I have to make sure you do it properly. You could hurt yourself.”
“It’s embarrassing,” you whispered, more petulant than anything.  
“I know,” Suguru told you sweetly, “but you’ve been such a good girl so far.” 
Your breath caught at the praise. At the very least, he looked away to pull off his shirt. You used the distraction to get your ankles secured, watching him remove his pants with your hands between your legs to retain some modesty. Suguru, stripped to his boxers, surveyed your handiwork, a little smile growing on his face.
“What?” you asked nervously. 
“Given how shy you are, I thought it would take more than this to convince you to do this for me. I don’t know if I’m disappointed or impressed.”
You frowned with a twisting sense of betrayal, but he cut off your displeasure by grabbing your legs to yank you towards him, leaning over the bed so he could kiss you.  
Before Suguru, you hadn’t really understood what the point of kissing was. It was an act of affection you mirrored with others because it was what people did. When Suguru licked your lips open for himself, you understood. Any touch of his body against yours had a potent effect, but the openly intimate domination of his tongue against yours, his fingers slipping up your hair to tilt your head, the hand on your bare waist, it was enough to clear your mind all over again. Igniting the purest type of motivation—lust. 
You wanted to show him your devotion. You wanted him to know you were sorry. You clung to his shoulders, hoping he could feel it.
All too soon, Suguru pulled back, his lips hovering inches from your own. You tried to follow, but he held you in place by your hair. 
“I’m impressed,” he said, answering his comment from before. “I admire your dedication. I only wish it extended to your actions. I can’t trust you until I know you obey me.”
“I do,” you said. “I…I will.” 
“Not yet.” Suguru didn’t wait for your response, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips, your cheek, and then tilting your head to whisper in your ear. “Move back. I’ll take care of the rest,” he told you, his husky voice making you shudder.
“Yes, sir,” you muttered so softly you wondered if he heard you. When Suguru pulled away, you scooted back to sit in the center of his bed, waiting and watching with equal parts nerves and anticipation. He picked through the red box again, pulling out another set of leather cuffs and a bundle of those silky scarves. 
“Open your legs,” he ordered in a business-like voice as he joined you on the bed, crawling up to you and readying one of the leather straps. The sudden shift of tone surprised you, throwing you off all over again. 
“What’s that?” you asked nervously. He gave you a sharp look and you relented, opening your legs. Being exposed so brazenly made your skin crawl, but he paid no attention to your naked body, wrapping the strap around your thigh and fastening it, repeating the process on your other leg. 
“What is it that the monkey said to upset you?” Suguru asked casually as he tested the straps for give, deeming them satisfactory. The conversational tone burst your bubble of rose tinged intimacy, sending your thoughts back to unpleasant places. “I assume something set you off.” 
“I… um…” As if revealing a magic trick, he unwound a length of the red scarf-like fabric, distracting you from a question you hadn’t really understood in the first place.
“Or did he try to attack you?” Suguru pushed, neatly doubling the scarf and pulling it around your back. He had to sit close as he blindly tied the knot and the cashmeran twilight scent of his skin filled your senses, you held your breath when he pulled away just to keep it close for a moment longer. 
“Have you done this before?” you asked as he wound the scarf around your chest and shoulders with a practiced hand, searching for a distraction from the embarrassment. 
“Does it bother you if I have?” Suguru asked. 
“No, sir.” 
He had to lean forward again to fasten the final knot on your back. “You didn’t answer my question,” he said softly. “What happened?” 
You winced. “He called me delusional. He said I’m just a… a bitch in your harem, and that I’d go down with you.” 
“I see,” Suguru said, pulling back, his expression impassive. 
“I’m really sorry, Geto-sama,” you said. 
“Are you worried he’s right?” Suguru asked, his voice so saccharinely sweet it had to be mocking. 
“I don’t… I don’t know.” 
“You are special to me,” Suguru told you sweetly, petting your hair. 
“You’re special to me too,” you said, eager to try and express your adoration. “Very, very special.” 
“I’m doing this because you’re so special to me. I can help you grow, and help you move on. I can show you the benefits of an honest life without the petty influence of the weak, but I cannot force your obedience. I need you to choose to listen to me, to obey me.”
“That is my choice,” you said. 
“Haven’t you heard the phrase ‘actions speak louder than words’?” Suguru countered, revealing the final trick of his little magic show. The chains on your wrists connected to those on your ankles with a few inches of slack, your ankle cuffs connected to the straps on your thighs, and the loose ends of scarves from the harness he had just finished tying were threaded into the D-rings on your thigh straps. Unable to balance upright, you rolled onto your back, fully exposed and unable to do much of anything about it. “This is your chance to make amends.” 
Suguru put his hand on your bare chest, right above your racing heart as it beat against your ribs. “You’re scared again,” he said. “I told you I wouldn’t hurt you. Do you not believe that?” 
“I’m just…” you squirmed uncomfortably, unable to articulate what you felt. You didn’t know what you felt, couldn’t figure out anything beyond the intensely physical embarrassment and the panicked disquiet of being bound and exposed.  
“You know what to do to make this stop,” he pointed out, his hand dragging down your chest to your flinching stomach. “Just say the word, and I’ll let you leave.”
Suguru told you that almost like it was a joke. He was daring you to use the safe word and stop him, to show him that you weren’t as devoted as you claimed. His hand reached your pelvis and you whimpered, your hips wiggling in an undecided way. Did you want him to touch you, or were you nervous for that part? You couldn’t tell. The feelings were the same. 
He finally dropped over you, both of his hands resting on your ass before brushing up your thighs, pressing them further apart as he kissed you with an open mouth. Suguru’s tongue urgently met yours, teasing enough to invite your active and enthusiastic participation. To show him how much you wanted him. Of course you did. 
With a surprising bite on your lower lip, Suguru left your mouth to move down, licking and kissing his way across your jaw, following the line of your neck. He stopped there, sucking hard right above your pulse until you shuddered hard, making a soft, helpless noise. Your hands anxiously jerked, but all that did was snap the chains taut. Taking his time, his hand trailed down your thigh, his fingernails scraping the skin, until he reached your pussy. 
When Suguru’s fingers made contact with the sensitive flesh, you yelped, and he bit your neck hard enough to draw that yelp out into a pathetic keen. Your attempt to free your hands so you could push him back served only to pull your legs open wider. 
“Was that too much?” Suguru asked, lightly tracing your slit. 
“Hurts,” you said, your breathing hard and fast. He chuckled warmly, finding your clit and tracing little circles over it, just teasing. You whimpered. 
“You don’t mind, do you?” He asked, his lips brushing your skin as he moved down your chest. 
You made a choked, conflicted sound in your throat, any coherent response leaving your head the second his mouth closed around your nipple. Electric pulses of pleasure zipped down to your core, made that much more intense by the fingers on your clit. Suguru added more pressure against it, the weight sweetened by the friction of his calloused fingertips. Your hips rolled into the touch, your back arching for every delicious movement of his tongue or teeth on your nipple. 
A hoarse wail left your mouth when he released you with a wet pop, moving to do the same to your other nipple. His fingers were truly grinding against your clit at this point. It wasn’t the sweet enticement of pleasure, but a brute force motion that guaranteed you would come fast. 
You whined and moaned and shuddered, fighting the restraints. Sweat slicked up your skin, chafing beneath the restraints as you jerked, your body going taut to prepare for the sudden orgasm. You managed a choked, “I can’t, I can’t, I-” And then that tension snapped. It was good, but the rush was too fast and fleeting, fizzling itself out before you could savor the feeling. All it really did was make you want more.
With another lewdly wet pop, Suguru pulled off your nipple and sat up, his hand retreating from between your legs. “How did that feel?” he asked.
You swallowed, nodding fast. “‘s good. Tha-aa-nk you, sir.” 
“It’s interesting to me how much more sensitive girls are after coming,” Suguru said, teasing you with his fingers lightly tracing over your slit. “It’s almost obscene. Men need time, but you already want more, don’t you?” 
You shuddered, panting and flushed. “Yes. Yes, please.”
He smirked, although you couldn’t say you really understood the joke. Your entire body twitched, the chains clinking, and he licked his lips, looking at your flushed body like he was eying up a meal. 
Your eyes squeezed shut when he ran two fingers from your entrance, dragging a smear of slick arousal up to your clit. 
“No, don’t close your eyes,” Suguru said, beginning to draw patterns over your swelling clit. “Look at me.” 
You nodded, opening your eyes and meeting his gaze despite how overwhelming it was to be watched while he touched you so intimately. You squirmed, inhaling sharply through your teeth, already feeling the tantalizing build. 
“What about you?” you asked. “You don’t have to, um… um…” Blinking fast, breathing hard, your words scattered like dust and you felt the same tightening in your core, the sparkling promise of release. At the exact moment you were about to come again, Suguru pressed his hand flat between your legs, denying you that final push over the edge. 
Whining and desperate and so, so close, your hips bucked upward, desperate to come again. It was already too late, out of your grasp. “Geto-sama, please, I was-”
“No,” he said simply. 
“What?” 
“No. I’m not going to let you come again. I’ve already given you one more than you deserve.”
“No,” you whispered, horrified. “You… You can’t.” 
“No?” he repeated, his fingers tracing your clit slowly, with the barest amount of pressure. “You remember why I’m doing this, don’t you? I’m punishing you.” He pressed more intently against your clit. Unable to comprehend denial, your body began the process of drawing up tight. “You need to learn to be obedient. You have to learn to take whatever I see fit to give you.” 
“I am,” you gasped out. “I do, I-I will, I’m…” Your back arched, your arms and legs falling aside as if to make an offering of your body in the hopes that he would let you come this time. “I’m sorry that I… that I did that,” you babbled, your pussy tightening around nothing as your body got ready to come. “I’m really… really… I’m-” 
Suguru stopped just when you were on the precipice again, tapping your folds as if to mock your need. You squinted at him, your chest hitching a heavy breath, tears pricking your eyes. “But I said… Oh…” You didn’t finish what you were saying, too distracted by the slick slide of his fingers inside of you. So good. You swallowed hard, your cunt squeezing his fingers desperately as his fingers curled, dragging against your g-spot as they pulled out before thrusting forward. 
“If your words meant anything, you wouldn’t need to be punished in the first place,” Suguru pointed out, although you weren’t paying very close attention, your body awkwardly trying to roll into his fingers as they slowly fucked you. He touched your clit with his other hand, once again ensuring that you would come quickly. 
Too quickly, really. The intensity of pleasure shocked you, especially since you were so sensitive, desperate for more. “Please, can I… will you please… Please?” you begged, your animal need curbed slightly by fear. 
“You should know that no other man will do this for you,” Suguru said. “No one else will ever care for you the way I do.”
You nodded fast, knowing that was the truth. No other person in the world had ever been as kind or compassionate to you as Suguru. Nobody had ever wanted you, or made you feel important, or given you purpose. You loved him. You felt that affection swell alongside your building orgasm. 
He would let you come this time, he wasn’t slowing down. His fingers made a sickening wet schlick as they pumped in and out of your pussy, working in time with the finger on your clit. You were there, your body taut and ready and desperate and-
A wail escaped you when he stopped at the last moment, your entire body jerking in desperation to reclaim your ruined orgasm. As soon as it was gone, he returned to touching you in the same way, vigorously chasing you back to the edge and abandoning you seconds before you could get off. 
“Please,” you begged.
“I told you no,” Suguru reminded you, adding a third finger to pump and curl into your pussy as if to punctuate the cruel statement. You were off the edge now, but your body still stupidly strove to take more pleasure. You blinked tears, confused and needy and trembling, your breathing shallow. 
“Why?” 
He didn’t answer, he didn’t need to. The touch on your clit had you throwing your head back, your nostrils flared and teeth clenched. Chains clicked together when you tried to free your arms, but it was a fruitless struggle. You didn’t want to respond to his touch in the same way, you needed a reprieve, but there was no escape. You were sensitive. Your body remembered coming once, and that was enough of an incentive to try to get more. 
“You can always stop me,” Suguru said. “If it becomes too much.”
“It’s…” you told him, although your attempt to seem brave was weakened by your breathy, pathetic voice. “I’m… I can take whatever you give me. I’m…” You sobbed, overwhelmed by the drag of his fingers against your g-spot. He barely had to put any pressure on your clit, it was so swollen beneath his teasing fingers. “Please, sir. I just… Just one, please?”
“I already let you come once,” he reminded you, amused. 
You moaned miserably, your head tossing back and forth as you readied yourself for another orgasm. You hoped that maybe if you could just come before he noticed, then that would be enough to soothe the horrible ache, the fearful deprivation he kept stoking to a blaze. 
It was there, right at your fingertips, on the tip of your tongue, and Suguru hummed happily when he suddenly pulled his fingers out of you. You shouted, thrashing against your bindings. They all held, keeping you helpless beneath him. 
“Please, I… please.” 
“No,” Suguru said, slowly pushing just one finger into you. You sobbed when he used it to massage your g-spot. Not giving you any real pressure or weight or friction, just that constant reminder of the pleasure you had been denied.
“I can’t,” you said tearfully, straining to get more out of that single finger like a starving woman being thrown crumbs. 
“You can,” Suguru told you. His word was gospel. It didn’t matter what you thought. 
He pulled his finger out before you could get too used to it, only to return with three. You choked, your body jerking hard enough against the restraints to hurt, suddenly thrown into high gear as he properly finger-fucked you, bouncing your entire body. 
It didn’t matter that he wasn’t touching your clit, you could get off just on this. Your body was thrumming with denied pleasure and you wanted it so bad you could scream. 
“Yes, yes, please, yes—No!” 
You were properly sobbing this time when he stopped, almost horrified by the intensity of your body’s disappointment when his fingers pulled out. You had no idea how he was getting the timing so perfect, but it was worse than if he was just hurting you. Suguru shoved his fingers into your open mouth while you were still reeling, smearing the taste of your pussy onto your tongue. You didn’t need his instruction to suck on them, hoping that the display of thoughtless obedience would earn you some leniency.   
“Good girl,” he cooed, pushing his fingers deeper into your mouth, almost enough to make you choke. When he pulled them out, he didn’t linger, kissing a line down your stomach. Your arms fought the restraints when you realized his intentions because you weren’t sure you could handle feeling his mouth on you like this, not if he was going to keep denying you. 
“No,” you whined. “Please, I… I can’t…” 
“Yes, you can,” Suguru said calmly, not even bothering to look up at you.
A heavy, almost guttural moan left your mouth when his tongue licked past your folds, tossing you right back into the abyss of lustful need. All he had to do was brace his forearm across the backs of your thighs and you were unable to do anything, your trapped arms and legs twitching, your feet kicking uselessly into the empty air, the chains connecting them to your wrists clicking. 
Suguru was good at this, switching between flat-tongued licks and pointed patterns, closing his lips around your clit until you were choking out these pathetic little chirps, your body reacting in a way entirely out of your control. 
And when you were there, right at the very edge, he pressed a kiss to your clit and looked up at you from beneath his dark eyelashes. 
You sobbed, throwing your head back in a childish display of disappointment. 
“You’re alright. Breathe,” Suguru said.
“Please,” you begged.
Suguru hummed as he lowered his head, shaking it side to side with his tongue flat against your clit. Your toes curled, your hands forming pathetic fists.  
It didn’t take much to build you up all over again, your entire body was wired and ready. You didn’t think you had ever felt so aware of yourself. Your skin, your pussy, your heart, your body, everything crackled and blazed. What was he doing, drawing kanji with his tongue? You didn’t know, but it felt amazing. You chased that feeling knowing you shouldn’t, thinking that maybe this time, maybe if you were fast enough. Maybe, maybe, maybe-
“No, please, I just wanna…” Suguru’s tongue stilled and he pulled away, watching you fall apart at yet another denied orgasm. “No!”
He casually pressed two fingers into you, massaging them against that spongy spot with a wet squish that was beyond obscene. “You know what to say to make me stop,” he told you.
“I know,” you said, wishing you could cover your face, wishing for some point of sanity here in this lust-mad haze. “I don’t want… Please, Geto-sama, I just wanna come, please.”
“Oh?” he said, his other hand returning to rest on your pelvic bone to playfully tease your clit. “Do you think you deserve that?” 
“I…” You tried desperately to figure out the correct answer by looking at his expression, but you couldn’t tell and his hands kept you distracted. Deserve didn’t matter, all you could think was that you wanted to come. “Yes?” you said, hoping very much that was the correct response, practically praying for the torment to end. His fingers slowed and you let out an embarrassing little keen. “Ah… No, no I…” His expression still didn’t change, leaving you scrambling. Your chest hiccupped with a sob, your confused spiral boiling down to the pit of desperate need. “I don’t know.”  
Rather than respond, Suguru’s head lowered between your legs once more to tongue your clit in time with his fingers. You felt a hot rush of hope that you got something right, that he was finally going to let you come. Your entire body surged towards the feeling, going so stiff that it made your trembling muscles ache. 
And there, right on the edge, he stopped. You didn’t have it within you to do anything other than cry, openly weeping at this point. If he were only teasing you it would be one thing, but he was purposefully working you right up to the edge and then abandoning you there. It was the feeling of being unable to sneeze amplified to a million, that torturous feeling of almost.  
“I’ll do anything, please,” you told him, your voice coming out broken.
“Are you saying you wouldn’t before?” Suguru asked. You opened your mouth to argue, only to realize that it didn’t matter. Nothing you said or did mattered, you were helpless to him. You had already surrendered everything else, the only thing you could do was obey and hope for his mercy.  
You understood. He didn’t want you to beg. He wanted you to obey. To be good for him without question. 
You could do that. 
Suguru pushed his fingers back into you, repeating the whole process of working you up and abandoning you again. And again. And then he added his mouth. There were several times in your life you’d been pushed to the absolute brink of sanity, and right then you were convinced that you were going to go mad. But you grit your teeth and endured it. You had to. This was your punishment, and Suguru would decide when to end your misery. 
You had to be good for him.  
Had you ever been this wet? Swollen too, all of your blood flowing dangerously hot between your legs. It was disgusting, your pussy was sloppy and red and he barely had to touch your clit at all to build you right up to that edge. And it was just as easy to let you fall, disappointed and unfulfilled and growing increasingly, painfully distraught from the denial. 
You beat your fists pathetically against the bed, hitting your head into the pillow like a madman. Air puffed out of your chest fast and hard enough to make your head spin, like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room. 
Rather than continue the torture, Suguru grabbed your chin, dragging you out of your spiraling haze. His fingers were slick from being inside of you. You met his eyes through a veil of tears. “Have you had enough?” he asked, his voice wavering with a parody of pity. “I’m worried you’re going to hyperventilate.” 
You blinked fast, trying to gather the coherence to respond. “I can… I can take it,” you told him with a miserable sort of resolve, your voice thin and breathless. 
Suguru smiled. “Really? And if I said I intended to leave you like this, perhaps to go find a way to fix the mess you made?” 
The thought was enough to make you sob. His attention was torturously uncomfortable, but being completely denied any resolution, being left bound and soaking wet and electrified with unfulfilled need, you almost would have rathered he hit you. 
But you nodded, forcing yourself to accept it. Anything less would be to reject his authority over you, right? It would make you seem less loyal. “Anything,” you whispered.
“Ah, that look in your eyes is wonderful,” he cooed. “You mean it, don’t you?” 
You nodded insistently. “I love you,” you told him, speaking without thought, saying it because it was true. “I’ll do… I’ll do anything.”
“Okay, I’ll let you come,” Suguru said, releasing your face so his hand could wander back down between your legs. 
You made a weak noise, your body unconsciously jerking, straining towards him. 
It was pathetic, he barely had to do anything, simply brushing his flat fingers in light circles over your swollen clit. And that was enough. Fear flooded your insides alongside the same frantic, hot rush of pleasure. All of your muscles contracted in a mass of sore, shaking muscles and bestial desperation because you were afraid he would stop again, afraid that he would deny you and there would be no recourse other than pathetic acceptance.
“Please, please, I-I love you,” you plead, your voice whispery, rough and desperate, borderline incoherent.
And he didn’t stop. 
That wet, hot snap of release was one of the best things you had ever felt. You convulsed, chains clicking and leather chafing against your skin and his name spilling from your lips over and over. He worked you right through the orgasm. You were crying again, sobbing and shaking and sticky hot. It felt good. It felt like forgiveness. 
“Another?” Suguru asked. Your eyes had been shut, but now they opened to see his smile.
You just shook your head, lacking the capacity to respond. 
He didn’t wait, pushing three fingers into you while teasing your clit with his other hand. It forced your body through a surprisingly uncomfortable rubbery mixture of overstimulation and mindless need. It left you feeling like an elastic band being stretched and stretched. In spite of that feeling, a few solid, harsh pumps later and you were coming again, your pussy squeezing his fingers to keep them there while he worked you through it. There was very little drama to it, you were already wrung out. But it was good. Hot and wet and good. 
Suguru didn’t stop. You fought the restraints, wanting to move, to writhe, to get more comfortable, to take some control back because you needed a moment to collect yourself. 
“I really-” It was hard to speak. Hard to form the words. Hard to get them out. “Oh God, I—ah.”
Almost painfully sensitive, the rough pounding of his fingers against your g-spot started to register as too much. You fought the restraints, a different sort of panic setting in. To keep your body from rejecting the pleasure of his touch, Suguru doubled down against your clit, pressing a little harder. You had been starving, but now you were splitting full from the assault pleasure. 
“Too—oo much,” you got out through your teeth, although it probably didn’t seem like it was too much when your back was arching accordingly, your pussy clamping down around his relentless fingers, that coiling buildup of release reaching its apex. 
Your mouth opened in a silent scream, your fingers and toes clawing helplessly at the sheets as you came, practically choking on the hot feverish intensity of your orgasm. 
“No, it’s not,” Suguru told you. His fingers slowed at least, and then pulled out. It wasn’t much of a reprieve, he immediately shuffled down the bed so he could situate his head back between your thighs. 
You hissed, tensing up, your arms jerking against the restraints. Your clit was too sensitive for his tongue, he had to understand that. “You… You don’t… Have to,” you got out, your voice unsteady from how hard you were panting. “I don’t need-” 
“Don’t worry,” Suguru said sweetly. “I’m not doing this for you.”
The wet, warm patterns he drew on your clit with his tongue sent you into a sort of delirium. No matter how sensitive you thought you were, it was intoxicatingly good. He focused entirely on what made your hips try to jump, what made you moan and whine. When he slipped two fingers into your pussy at the same time, you felt ready to lose it entirely. You were falling apart. Splitting at the seams. You came with a harsh cry, Weeping at the fizzling heat of pleasure. 
Suguru didn’t stop. He just hummed and flattened his tongue and kept going, forcing you right past that sickening few seconds of sensory rejection and towards another orgasm. You could do it. You focused on that because even if you weren’t entirely sure you wanted more, you wanted to be good for him. How ungrateful would it be to not come when he was kind enough to eat you out? 
Covered in the sickly shine of sweat and shaking so uncontrollably that it felt like the world itself was trembling, you came again.  
When he was content you were done, Suguru stopped, pulling his fingers out with a final brush against your g-spot to make you whine, your body mindlessly writhing. He sat up, brushing back strands of sweaty black hair with the back of his hand. 
You wilted in place, closing your eyes to focus on your breathing while he messed with something else. It was hard to collect yourself, but you could already tell that you would be sore tomorrow. 
Hearing the shift of fabric, you opened your eyes to see Suguru remove his boxers. Despite your messily deteriorated state, the sight of his cock roused enough of your mind to focus. He was hard, the red-flushed head bobbed as he casually stroked himself which might have been for your benefit. Despite the sensory overload, your pussy tightened in anticipation of feeling him inside of you. If he fucked you and you did good enough to make him come, then you would be done. That was, at the very least, an end goal. One more thing you could endure for him, and then he would forgive you. 
Suguru looked down at you with a fond smile, an expression that seemed more than a little cruel when he was stroking his dick, when he knew fully well that you were painfully oversensitive and this would make it that much worse. 
“Should I make you beg?” he asked warmly, tapping the head against your painfully sensitive folds. You whimpered, squirming. You weren’t entirely sure you wanted this, and he probably knew that, but maybe that was the point. It didn’t matter, you wanted him, you wanted to be good for him, and that superseded every other thing you felt. 
“Please, Geto-sama,” you begged, defaulting to the formal address because you needed him to accept it, because he was your lord and master in every way except by name, because you adored him and worshiped him, and you needed him to understand that. “Fuck me, please. I’m yours.”
“So vulgar,” he said, sliding his cock up and down through the wet, sloppy mess he’d made of your pussy. “I wonder what happened to the sweet, innocent girl you used to be.”
You squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head. “Please.”
“I’m kidding,” Suguru told you, bracing one hand on your thigh to force your hips to curl while lining up his cock. “Aren’t you going to beg?”
“Please-”
“No, no. Look at me.”
You forced your eyes open, forced yourself to look up at him through tear-covered lashes. “Please, Geto-sama. Please, I’m yours.” 
It was nothing for him to push in. You were wet and eager and it felt good. The feeling of his cock popping past the initial barrier of muscle and driving deeper into your pussy was one of the most uniquely pleasurable sensations you had ever felt, no matter what the context. It gave you the sort of fullness nothing could replicate, physically grounded you in a way nothing else ever had. 
Since you were watching, you got to see his expression slacken into one of pleasure. Your pussy fluttered and squeezed, just making room for him. 
You gave up keeping your eyes open as he drove himself even deeper, throwing your head back to just take it, to ignore the discomfort of his cock grinding against what felt like raw nerves. Suguru braced his hands on your thighs as he rocked his hips, taking his time. 
“What does it feel like?” he asked. 
“Good,” you said quickly, your tongue feeling loose like you were drunk. “So… So good.” 
“I want to feel you come again,” he said. “You don’t mind, right?” 
Your eyes fluttered open in confusion, shutting when he suddenly snapped his hips forward. “I can’t,” you whined. “Not again.”  
“You can,” Suguru told you, grinding his cock as far into as he could, pressing as deep as possible, deep enough to make you whimper and writhe. Could he feel that? Could he feel the way you were shaking all the way down to your bones, feel the way your heart raced and fluttered and skipped? 
And then you heard it turn on. When you heard the buzzing, your brain was wildly scattered enough that you thought it was an electric toothbrush which made no sense whatsoever. When he pressed the vibrator directly to your clit, you yelped, trying to buck it off but only serving to grind yourself into his cock. 
A few little circles with the thing against your clit was all it took for you to choke, your body seizing up with another orgasm. You were acutely aware of the way it caused your cunt to squeeze and suck his cock, coating it in a fresh wave of arousal as he pulled out, making a horrible wet slap when he thrust back in. 
Suguru groaned, keeping the vibrator directly on your clit as he chose a slow, steady pace. 
“I can’t,” you tried to tell him, squirming and writhing with renewed vigor as your body started to tense up to come again. You couldn’t stop it and of course it felt good but it was too much, almost burning. You could handle it. If you came again it would hurt, especially coming with his cock grinding so persistently into your overly sensitive cunt. 
“I thought you were being good,” Suguru said, rewarding you with a heavy, harsh thrust that made you wail. And another. That sent you over the edge, whimpering and shaking and incoherent with the overwhelming influx of heat and tingling overstimulation. Like the brittle snap when breaking a glow stick, or taking a crisp, juicy bite of an apple. It should have been good, but all you could feel was the wet, helpless violation of something ruined. 
Suguru moaned openly, driving himself deep enough for his hips to slap your ass with each heavy thrust. Your head whipped from side to side, the only form of protest left to you. He kept moving the vibrator to make sure you didn’t get too accustomed to any one type of stimulation. It was torture. Horrible torture. You wouldn’t have thought coming could be so agonizing, and yet when you drew up for another sharp, shuddery orgasm you couldn’t recognize it as anything else. 
“Is this better or worse than before?” Suguru asked, his words stuttered with each hard thrust. 
“I don’t… I can’t…” You couldn’t think. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t do anything except convulse and cry and come. Again. 
You didn’t understand. 
“You don’t know?” he asked, breathy yet amused. “You’ll have to—to tell me later.” 
The problem was that you had no place to think. You were too full. Suguru continued fucking you hard and steady. All you could hear was the slick slapping of wet skin and that infernal buzzing. There was so much weight behind every movement, like he was trying to batter his way into your womb. Each thrust was followed by a whimper or moan or cry. And the relentless vibrator against your clit. It hurt. It burned. 
“I don’t… don’t…” 
“You’re… not done,” Suguru told you, his voice heavy and breaking with exertion. “Come again.” 
You weren’t sure if you were actually crying anymore, or just sobbing and panting and so sweaty it felt like you were crying. You couldn't form any coherent words, or even incoherent rejections. So you obeyed, the taste of blood on your tongue and stars dotting your vision, your pussy burning and inner walls pulsing around his cock as you came again. Suguru groaned, his lovely lips parted and eyes closed. 
“One more,” he demanded. “Just… Just one… More.” That word was punctuated with a hard thrust and an especially cruel grind of the vibrator against your overstimulated clit. There was no point in saying no, or even believing it wasn’t possible. He knew more than you did. You didn’t know anything. 
With a miserable whine, you came again, although at this point it felt like there was just a long, helpless flow of overstimulation marked with waves of overbearing heat, and then your pussy tightened around his cock and it dragged cruelly against your g-spot, and that was all you could manage before you were tossed back into the mindless daze of agonizing excess.
“Even though it hurts, you’re…” He didn’t finish that breathless thought, although his amused smile went away when his hips suddenly stuttered and he fell forward, his forearm resting by your shoulder. 
Mercifully, Suguru shut the vibrator off, letting it fall somewhere to the side, bracing his other arm on the bed next to you as he sought his own end. Your arms and legs fell to the side, slack except for when your muscles spasmed or jerked. Every thrust added to the relentless cycle of too much, especially from this angle, you could feel the way your body worked itself up to come again, responding to his pleasure as if it were your own. 
“Geto-sama… Suguru please,” you begged and there was a chance he couldn’t make out that you were attempting to form actual words, but even with your sanity fraying at the edges from his torture, you wanted him to come. You wanted to know there was a reason for your complete unraveling, that you had a real, good purpose, some sort of justification to exist. 
Suguru forced your knees all the way up to your chest, pushing his cock as deep as possible as he came, working himself through it with shallow thrusts and these intoxicatingly sexy stuttered moans. Distantly, beyond the hellish, sweaty shell of your shaking body, you had the distinct thought that everything was worth it just to hear him moan like that. Just to be rewarded by his pleasure. Because you loved him. Because you belonged to him. Both of you were flushed hot and disturbingly slick with sweat and it hurt for him to be pushing so deep. Out of all the little cruelties he had subjected you to, the fact that you were unable to hold onto him like you wanted was one of the worst. 
When Suguru pulled out, that hurt too. Every part of your body hurt. He left you to fall bonelessly limp onto the bed, rolling around to lay next to you. 
In the relative quiet, your ears rang with a tinny discordance, paired with the engine roar of rushing blood. Your tongue was sandpaper in your mouth—little wonder, you had no idea how you had any liquid left in your body—and your limbs hurt from being stuck in the bound position for so long, but you couldn’t say you wanted to do anything to fix those things. As soon as the severity of those discomforts occurred to you, so were they carried away by the lapping tide of exhaustion. You felt like a sponge that had been squeezed dry. That’s probably what you looked like too.   
“I didn’t expect it to be so… Difficult to contain myself,” Suguru mused softly. You didn’t respond, marveling at his voice. It was very nice. So soothing and smooth. Perfect, just like every other part of him. “It’s wrong, but necessary. You never learned the right way to live, I have to guide you. Otherwise you could hurt yourself. You could hurt our family.” There was more conviction in those words, like he was trying to argue against a point you hadn’t made. 
Even if you were to be unbound, you wouldn’t dare close your legs. You couldn’t feel his cum slipping out, maybe you were too swollen. That would explain the painful heat. 
“I wish I didn’t have to make my point like this,” Suguru continued. “But I'll do whatever it takes for you to get it.” 
Mute confusion was the only thing you had left—you were barely aware enough to listen to what he was saying, let alone divine any meaning from the words. Your body hurt and you were thirsty and sweaty and tired. You didn’t think anything. You couldn’t do anything. You couldn’t say anything. It wasn’t even confusion, it was just pure exhaustion. 
“Ah, you’re a mess,” Suguru said, sitting up. You groaned in disapproval when he started messing with the straps around your thighs, taking them off. Without the harness's support, your legs dropped limp onto the bed. Still, you didn’t move. You couldn’t fathom moving. “Hey,” he chided, “don’t go to sleep.”
You grunted unhappily. 
“Will you open your eyes?” Suguru asked, touching your fever-hot cheek. After a second, you did, meeting his gaze with your own dazed, blank stare. His expression was tender, you thought. So kind, so sweet, so gentle. “I need you to listen to me now, hm?” 
You made a sound to show that you were listening, looking up at his beautiful face with a marveling sort of adoration. Suguru really was beautiful. It was little wonder so many people thought he was a holy man. He undid the chains keeping your hands and ankles connected, letting your arms flop lifelessly into the sweaty sheets.
“I forgive you,” Suguru told you, his eyes scanning your body slowly, taking in the sweat and the reddish flush and the twitching, trembling of your muscles with some kind of affection. “But, and I need you to remember this,” he continued, his eyes returned to yours, “next time you disobey me, it will be worse.”
Worse? You couldn’t imagine worse. The idea of worse made your eyes sting, panic threatening to crawl back out of the abyss of your exhaustion to send you into a fit of tears.
You blinked and swallowed against your dry throat. “I’ll be… be good, I promise,” you said in a voice that was little more than a hoarse croak. 
“Shhh,” Suguru shushed softly, brushing your damp hair off of your sweaty forehead. “Don’t be scared. Everything I do, I do because I love you. You are precious to me, you know that, don’t you?”
Those words worked like ether sweet anesthesia through your head and you believed him, loved him, trusted him. He did this because he loved you, and because you needed to learn. Of course. That made sense even if nothing else did. 
151 notes · View notes
pinkishpearls · 2 days
Note
Sub jude phone sex. that’s it. 😖 thats request.
run my mouth.
a jude bellingham fic.
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thank you so so much for 200 followers!! 🤍
requested by @robins-scoop
sub!jude x dom!reader / phone sex / masturbation
unfortunately, you couldn’t be with jude in madrid seeming as you’d had to run errands constantly back in england. so for the time being, you were continuously on your phone texting and calling him. it broke your heart not having your number one supporter by your side, but for now, you’d have to get used to it.
it also wasn’t the best for those times where you got sexually frustrated, seeming as he was all the way in madrid and your hands didn’t always give you the best pleasure. but today you were doing fine, running errands as per usual and doing your work to waste the torturing time of not having jude with you. you were almost getting used to not having him here, and you hoped that was the same for him too.
until, you got a ping on your phone; jude was calling you. a sheepish grin painted across your face knowing that he was safe and was now free to call you; his attention now fully directed towards you. with excitement, you almost immediately drop your belongings and turn your full attention to him. “hey jude!” you cheered as you accept the call, clearing your throat before your ears caught onto the melody of grunts and groans. “need- y-you here!” he shakily breathes, his voice low and whiny. the same tone he develops when he fucks you, or you fuck him.
“jude?” you try to hide the devilish grin from appearing on your face, but fail miserably as an elongated moan falls past his lips. “what are you doing, jude?” you coyly inquire, “don’t make me- say i-it.” he demands. “i asked you a question, jude.” you remind him, your voice low and raspy, you dominated him even over the phone. “i’m t-touching.” he cuts himself off, the slick strokes of his dick interrupting the call. “touching?” you question, “m-myself.” he breathes out, his pre-cum swirling around his fingers as he glides himself across his shaft.
“to my voice? over the phone?”
“y-yes. your made me- nervous. that fucking instagram post- fuck.” he whines, pre-cum leaking down his tip as it runs down his hand, running like water going down car windows. his moans progressively get louder, his actions now erratic and sloppy. “jude are you- are you home alone?” you start to worry, seeming as jude couldn’t keep his mouth shut as soon as he found pleasure. “n-no just a few guests i barely know are- are over.” he informs like it’s nothing, swiping his leaking, angry tip which made his back arch up, almost like a bridge. “jude!” you jolt up in your seat, “jude, stop! they’re gonna listen to you!”
“i-i don’t care. i hope you hear me moan for you.”
your cheeks flush hot immediately after he moans out how he doesn’t care anymore, especially his hard on who doesn’t give a fuck as now it was being fucked up vigorously into his hand. the slick sounds fill the air, making it almost hard to hear the slutty, lewd whimpers that fall past jude’s wet, plump lips. “you have to stop.” you sigh, terrified that he’ll get caught committing absolute profanities seeming as he was only a staircase away from the guests.
“you need to stop, your being so lo-“
“fuck, i can’t!” he whinges, the bed creaks as his hips buck continuously into his curled up hand. “mm- yes!”
“jude, this is so, so wrong.”
“say it again.” he demands, his voice shaky as his back grows tired, his spine begs for himself to cum. “say what?” you inquire, the same smirk now emerging at your lips as jude’s mindset had now flew into your mind, you didn’t give a fuck how loud he was; all you wanted was for him to moan for you.
“my- my name!” he begs.
“jude.” you sigh seductively, his voice cracking as moans escape his lips.
“shit- shit i’m at your mercy!” he cries, his moans getting trapped in his throat, “please! please let me cum for you!” he sobs, his legs start to vibrate.
“cum for me, jude.”
with an almost pornographic moan, jude came. staining his hand and his clothes a warm, white liquid as images of you dominated his mind.
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brittle-doughie · 2 days
Note
I hunger for... yandere cookie run...
So, imagine yandere ancients cookies meeting their good old friend (who they still have a huge crush on) traveling with the brave gang!
And when any of them tries to convince reader to stay with them, Y/N cookie immediately turn down the offer and said that they'll stick with the brave gang until dark enchantress cookie is finally defeated.
I hope this ask goes through💔 and I'll be fish anon from now on
-🐟
Gotta Go (The Ancient Cookies)
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Pure Vanilla Cookie and Black Raisin Cookie would want to thank Y/N Cookie by asking if they wanted to stick around and help with the Vanilla Kingdom.
Since DE is defeated for now, you actually grant this request and stick around with Brave and the others to help patch up things in the place…all the while Pure Vanilla and Black Raisin crowd you wanting to chat, lol.
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Barely having enough time to process the dragon being defeated had you being scooped up and squeezed tightly by Hollyberry Cookie. You were just so cute fighting the dragon like that, Princess Cookie would agree!
Jungleberry and Royal Berry would ask if you had to stay for a celebratory feast, it was the least they could do to commend you for your efforts. Hollyberry is there to try and butter you up, but you had DE to stop and didn’t have the time. The Teo royals understand, but Hollyberry is insisting she comes along to keep you safe!
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Dark Cacao Cookie couldn’t thank you enough for the efforts you and the group put to ward off the licorice threat and snap him out of his corruption. He insists that a warrior like you would be at home in the Dark Cacao Kingdom.
Caramel Arrow would insist on Cacao’s offer, saying that by staying, you’d be a constant inspiration for her and the other warriors to train and fight harder. This gets DCA on the protective side, his asking of you to come to the kingdom being urgent, he did not want to leave you to get twisted into an evil mockery of yourself.
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You wouldn’t realize it yet, but Golden Cheese Cookie had gotten more attached to you then you expected, it seemed not even GC was immune to the effect you had on cookies. She focused on you and how you were doing much more than the group, something that would annoy Black Raisin to no end.
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It would all come to a head where she’d offer you to be a permanent resident to her kingdom, but you had to refuse, saying that DE had to be stopped no matter what, but GC insisted! She grew worried, this war shouldn’t matter more to you than your own life. You should just STAY HERE where you couldn’t get hurt under her watch, she’s not letting you leave out of fear that she’ll endure the same pain she had endured years ago…
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White Lily Cookie didn’t like the sound of your plan, were you really going to face Dark Enchantress Cookie? It sounded too dangerous for you, you can get hurt or something even worse! She’ll help you, but it meant that you had to stay back as she and the others handled DE.
But you refused, you had been on this mission since the start, you weren’t going to back out now. But White Lily believes that your life can be more fruitful if you remained here…with her. So please….stay. You couldn’t, you wanted to see this until the end. The others were counting on you…
White Lily wanted to protest, when she realized that you’re in a crosshairs of a particular group of cookies….
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monstersighing · 1 day
Text
18+ NSFW MDNI
M Tentacled Sea God x AFAB Reader
Title: Deep
Content: tentacle sex, knotting, impact play (spanking), dirty talk, possessiveness, praise kink.
(Other works featuring the same monster can be found via my masterlist, but this can be read as a standalone).
+++
Three weeks had passed since you’d seen Lir, the sea god you’d summoned to your bed with your wishes and desires. You’d called and he hadn’t answered. You felt empty and hot blooded enough to go out to a bar and fuck the first man who’d shown you attention.
He’d been sweet, the man you met at the bar, six drinks deep on an evening out with your work colleagues. You’d taken him home and let him fuck you from behind against the window of your apartment. You’d watched the storm lash against the sea. You’d imagined the cock inside you was Lir’s tentacles and the hands on your hips were larger, with sharp nails. He’d come inside you with a grunt and worked his fingers across your clit. You only came when he agreed to call you a slut and pulled your hair, imagining the accusation in a deeper voice.
You’d handed the man his clothes and he’d left in a taxi not long after.
I fucked someone else and I’m glad, you thought as loud as you could, stood at the sea’s edge. Hoping your words would reach Lir, even if he didn’t reply.
+++
Sunrise comes, and you walk out of your house, across the patio and down to the sand of the beach. Then to the shore. The tide is in, so you leap up to the rocks, pick your way across rock pools and perch at the furthest point you can reach. The spray from the waves mists your face.
The sun rises higher, and you lie down flat against the rocks, the sun warming your face, your shoulders, the bare skin of your belly between your swim shorts and top. You doze.
You wake to a shadowy figure above you, blocking the sunlight. It is Lir. His body bracketing yours, tentacles undulating above and behind him.
“I heard you. I know what you did,” he says.
Your hands reach up, and you touch the planes of his face. As you look into his dark, seal-like eyes, you say, “I missed you,” and then “I’m sorry.”
“You’re mine, you know that.” Two of his tentacles wrap around your wrists and push your hands down so they are resting either side of your head.
“But you left,” you say. “You left me alone.”
“I had things to attend to. During the storms, people ask for me. I save them and I grow stronger.”
He does seem larger than before, somehow. Sleeker and more muscled. The deep blue of his skin more vibrant.
“I’m yours. I won’t ever again. I’m sorry.”
“Words,” Lir says. “You need to show me.” Your cunt throbs, the sound of his voice alone has you feeling slick and warm.
“How?” Tears prickle your eyes, and your face feels hot. You need to make this right.
“I’m going to punish you. Then I’m going to fill every hole in your body and fuck your cunt full of my cum until you can’t remember what that man felt like.”
You whine then, and arch up desperate for Lir’s skin on yours. He hasn’t come inside your cunt yet. He’s spilt his seed on your body and in your mouth, pushed tentacles and feelers into your pussy and hole. But never that. You want it desperately, more than anything you can ever remember desiring.
“Yes. Please. Yes,” you whimper.
Lir lifts you then, and you are laid prone across his lap. Water slick tentacles hold your arms and legs in place, wrapping tightly. His hands pull your shorts down and off and knead at your exposed ass cheeks.
“Ten hits, and you will count them. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” you say.
A tentacle slaps down against your left ass cheek. You jolt forward. “One,” you say.
Another tentacle slaps down against your right ass cheek, harder than the first, the loud crack of impact, shocking you. “Two,” you say.
Lir carries on, each slap of a tentacle harder, and swifter than the last. You wriggle, and the tentacles coiled around your legs and arms tighten and pull, so your body is taut. “Be good,” Lir warns. The hot sting of each hit becomes one warm bright ache. You feel your mind empty, except for the need to count each strike.
You’re sobbing by the time you reach ten, tears dripping off the tip of your nose. You’re unsure whether you want to pull away or wriggle your ass out to beg for more punishment.
Lir’s voice breaks into your thoughts then: “You have been good. You’re forgiven.” His hand strokes your head, while the other presses against the burning heat of your buttocks, soothing. You bask in his touch, but you want more. When the tentacles gripping your legs and arms loosen and fall away, you scrabble up off Lir’s lap to kneel in front of him. You spread your legs wide and pull off your top so you are fully naked, flushed and desperate.
Drawing you close he bends to kiss your mouth, tongue running across the seam of your lips and then pressing inside. His hands stroke across your back and his mouth dips to the side of your neck. You arch and feel the press against of his open mouth and his teeth against the skin there, like a promise. He pushes you back against the rocks and pulls your legs over his sides, so your body is stretched and displayed for him, from your wet waiting cunt to your hard aching nipples to your open pleading mouth. The sea breeze blows over all your naked skin, making your shiver.
“Please,” you whine.
“Please what, my pet?” Lir says, and he smiles.
“I’m sorry. You said if I was sorry, you’d fuck me.”
“Patience. I shouldn’t have left you so long, should I? You’re a slut.”
“I’m a slut,” you agree.
Propping yourself up on your elbows allows you to see Lir’s hard dick. It’s big, a sucker studded ridge near the base, and a fringe of feelers above his pubic bone that undulate as if seeking out touch.
One of Lir’s tentacles seek out your pussy, its pointed edge tracing against your lips. You try to push down, but the tentacles’ touch dances away and then returns light. Other tentacles glide up your body, flick at your nipples and attach themselves, suckers milking and then clenching, making your cunt twitch in sympathy. All you want is to be filled and used and know you are forgiven.
Shifting over you, Lir grips his cock and rubs it against your entrance, getting it slick. When he pushes the tip of his cock into you, you sigh. He’s wide. You feel him push inside you inch by inch, your walls stretching to accommodate him. It hurts so good you force your hips down until his cock is fully seated inside you, your legs trembling at the feeling of fullness. The frill of feelers around the base of his cock brush against your exposed clit, over and over.
He starts with shallow thrusts that have your craving more, then he plunges deeper, deeper. Boxed in by Lir’s body, your hands wrap around his wide neck. You pant and whimper into his mouth as he kisses you, his tongue deep, until his thrusts make it so his kisses are just glancing presses against any part of your face his lips can reach. You come clenching and trembling around his fat cock with a wail.
Lir pauses as your orgasm ripples through you. And then starts again. He is harsher now, his rhythm gone ragged, chasing his own pleasure. A tentacle fucks into your mouth and you suck on it. Another tentacle pushes against your asshole, circles the ring of muscle until it loosens, and rams deep inside. Lir’s cock and the tentacle slide in and out of your holes in counterpoint, and you feel full almost to bursting.
I can’t I can’t your mind says, you can’t come again. And then you do, your cunt filled with Lir’s cock, your hole filled with a thick tentacle and your mouth with the sinuous press of his tongue as he kisses you. He pushes the deepest he has into your cunt with his cock and you feel his cum slick your insides in spurts. You feel the ridged edge of his dick expand, plugging the cum inside you, suckers twitching and holding tight when your hips jerk with the aftershock of coming.
“My knot,” he says, and presses a hand just above your pubic bone. “It’ll keep you full of my cum.”
You’re too overwhelmed to speak, so you just hum, and let Lir wrap you in his tentacles.
“I shouldn’t have left you alone for so long,” he says. You settle against him, cradled in the arms of your monster and sigh in happiness. You’re happy to wait until his knot loosens, and sure that when it does he will be ready to fuck you again.
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dark-frosted-heart · 2 days
Text
The Owl’s Sweet Judgment - Matias
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An “If you were lovers” story. As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this
If Prince Matias and I were lovers…
Matias: So this is your home…
After having a fun date with him while he visited Rhodolite, I dragged Prince Matias to my house.
While he was distracted by my room, I locked the door and peeked out the window.
(No one’s following us. That’s good…)
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Matias: A woman’s room should smell nice. ……Ahhhh, it’s better than I imagined.
(Just what were you imagining…You know what, let’s not think about that)
Emma: Since you’re here, I’ll go prepare some tea.
Matias: I’ll help.
Emma: No, don’t worry about it. I’m the one who dragged you to my home.
Matias: I see... Then I’ll take you up on the offer.
Even though I was treating him, Prince Matias followed me to the kitchen.
It was like he didn’t even think about making himself at home, and his earnestness had me smiling.
Emma: As you might expect, this is rose tea.
Matias: Rhodolite even uses roses for tea? You’re very consistent.
Emma: We’re the Country of Roses. It’s delicious.
(I’ve never seen it in Achroite so I’m sure this is the first time Prince Matias has been offered this drink)
After retrieving the tea set from the shelf, I started preparing the tea.
Meanwhile, Prince Matias just stood and watched.
Emma: …Isn’t this boring?
Matias: Not at all.Your every movement has my interest. Moreover, should you spill the tea and stain your clothes, I’ll need to take action. Or perhaps you’ll need my help retrieving equipment from a high place. I’ve fantasized about such situations happening and I’m confident in my ability to deal with those incidents.
Emma: That’s promising.
(...Just how many ideas unfold in Prince Matias’ mind?)
There were 100 questions I could’ve asked, but I kept them to myself.
Matias: By the way, why did you invite me to your home? That wasn’t part of our plans…
Emma: I’m sorry…There wasn’t a particular reason, I just suddenly felt like wanting you all to myself.
Matias: You always have me. I only have eyes for you.
Emma: I don’t want to get too greedy.
(Prince Matias really hasn’t noticed)
While we were walking around town, all the women we passed by would turn and look at Prince Matias.
They were like butterflies lured by sweet nectar—
It seemed like the tremendous amount of charm Prince Matias unconsciously gave off affected women left and right. 
(I had no choice but to escape because his charm was turned up more than usual)
I didn’t want other women to share the same experience of having my heart race and body heating up, and feeling charmed just by being around him.
That selfish pettiness what brought us to our current situation.
(...I lied, but I don’t want him to know my true feelings)
Matias: …Sorry.
I took out the necessary amount of tea leaves and was about to put the jar back on the shelf when Prince Matias, who was standing beside me, grabbed my hand.
Matias: I always thought I was focusing my efforts on conveying my love, but… I guess I haven’t been doing enough to make you greedy for me.
Matias pressed his lips on the back of my hand and his sex appeal was unleashed with a bang.
(And here I was thinking about going outside again when this overflowing sex appeal settled down)
He nipped at my index finger and the charm increased in proportion to my racing heartbeat.
(This is dangerous…Very dangerous!)
Emma: Prince Matias, you show your love well…Really well.
Matias: Is that so? I was considering unleashing the rest.
(The rest?! This wasn’t all?!)
Emma: Don’t do that or I’ll die!
Matias: Wha…You’ll die?!
Emma: That’s right, people die when they get too excited!
(I haven’t actually heard about that being a cause of death, but…!)\
It wasn’t a lie, and it could happen if Prince Matias’s villainous sex appeal grew stronger.
Matias: Is that so? I wasn’t aware. I need to show how I love you without making you worry…That’s truly a challenge.
(I’m sorry, Prince Matias)
Instead of apologizing, I wrapped my arms around Prince Matias’ waist and hugged him.
Since he was a former soldier, it was obvious his body was well-trained, even with all those clothes.
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Matias: Can I hug you back?
Emma: Of course.
When I nodded, Prince Matias gently wrapped his arm around me as if holding a fragile item.
Matias: You’re still so small… But I think you’re hiding something in this small body of yours.
Emma: Huh?
Matias: What exactly are you hiding?
Emma: I’m not h-hiding anything—
As I looked away, Prince Matias played with my hair.
Matias: Since we entered your house, you’ve been acting suspicious and haven’t stopped looking around. That’s usually how liars react.
Emma: …
Matias: If you’ve been lying in any way, then you’d be guilty of fraud. Are you really not hiding anything from me?
He placed kisses on the ends of my hair and I got dizzy from the sensuality that reaped my sanity.
(It’s not good…I can’t hide it)
(I wasn’t planning on saying anything…)
Emma: …I really want to have you all to myself. I couldn’t stand the suggestive looks you got from the people we passed by…
Matias: That happened?
Emma: It did.
Matias: Is that so? I didn’t notice. I was only looking at you.
(This guy…)
Matias: No wonder you’ve been acting strange the whole day.
Emma: …Are you disgusted?
Matias: Why would I?
Emma: I thought I was acting petty…
Matias: Really? If you call that being petty then I’d like you to be more petty. So much that there’s no place for anyone but me.
Emma: Prince Matias…
It was like that sincere smile before me saved me.
Matias: …However, fraud is fraud.
Emma: Huh?
Matias: You lied by hiding your true feelings, didn’t you? I’m the Guardian of Law…Therefore I need to punish you impartially.
Sweet, dewy eyes the color of shadow on snow, completely different from those aimed at criminals, approached and I closed my eyes.
The sensation of the savory kiss and feeling of his palms caressing my waist added on to the suffocating charm.
(...I’m going to melt like ice)
Matias held me up as I was about to collapse.
The wet sensation on my lips raised my body heat a bit more.
Emma: It’s a punishment…but it’s very sweet.
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Matias: You’re special.
(Ah…I’m feeling more intolerant)
(With Prince Matias, there’s no limits…)
It doesn’t seem like we’ll be leaving my house any time soon because of the Guardian of Law’s sweet judgment.
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goth-mami-writer · 3 days
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🩶As Close As Strangers🩶
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{POV: When drunk Leon showed up at your door that night, the last thing you wanted to do was catch up with your old partner. There was just too much you hadn't told him.}
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
《 Rain was falling against your roof softly that night, lulling the sound of late traffic and other nighttime noises outside your suburban home. But it startled you when a loud, jarring knock came to the door suddenly.
It thudded with an urgency, and you were on alert now with the thought of who could be knocking this late. In the rain, too. You stood up, using your used-to-be police training to creep through your living room to see out onto your stoop.
Your eyes widened seeing no one at first, but there was a shadow that slowly came into the light, and your heart thundered when you recognized the face. You hurried to the door, unsure even with a million guesses as to how he even found your address or remembered you at all.
“Leon?!” You said opening the door in a swing, wrapping yourself tighter in your silk night robe to keep the chill of the rain away.
He stumbled on his feet, seeming like he was reaching for a hug but he stopped, as if he was unsure how to proceed in reintroducing himself. Suddenly it all became clear when he started to slur his speech in a ramble of words,
“I ugh- I was in the…the ugh- ” His hands moved up to try and talk without words, but you nodded in understanding,
“You're drunk.” You said finitely, ready to tell him that he needed to find a way home but he stumbled again, however this time his stance gave out completely as he dropped on your doorstep in a fall.
You knelt down, trying to save him from hurting himself then mentioned in a gasp upon feeling the wetness of rain soaked in his clothes,
“Did you walk here?”
You knew it didn't matter. He was drenched, shivering, probably on the verge of a fever from the cold, and he was clearly too plastered to get himself home. So, you helped him inside, pulling on him gently and supporting his weight to rest him on the sofa for now while you figured this out.
You hadn't seen Leon in years. He looked exactly the same. As if time just hadn't caught up to him yet. You wished you could say the same. The new recruit you were when you knew him was long gone now. You'd changed so much. You wondered if maybe he'd just have to meet you all over again. You were partners at one pretty little point in time, always together and growing together to protect the city.
Now…you felt as close as strangers.
But there was something else. Something so dire that you never got to say to him. Your world depended on it, actually. Leon Kennedy was someone you hoped to never see again now that you'd stayed silent for this long with such a gravelly secret.
You sat him on the couch, watching as clearly his head was swimming from alcohol. He smelled flammable, so you were surprised he wasn't ready to lose the liquor on your living room floor, but he was quiet. And still. You reached forward, trying to convince him to shed his wet jacket to get comfortable, telling him to just lie down and be warm for a while. Quietly, he fell asleep, and you knew that might be for the best. You didn’t want to catch up like old friends. There was too much he didn't know.
Couldn't know.
After a few minutes, your gaze on his nostalgia was broken when he began to stir away from sleep. You never thought you'd see him again but he looked at you tiredly now trying to keep conversation.
“How've you been? Haven't seen you since I moved up to federal. I lost my cell at the bar - I figured I'd see if you were home.” He said with a little more sobriety.
Your blood went cold when you knew you had to lie and you played the only card you had at this moment, which was being as vague as possible.
“I've been fine. Just working…some here then some there. Just busy.”
He nodded but then groaned as he sat up straight. Letting the moonlight in the room illuminate his face. Your expression turned soft, and you watched as winced from a headache - somehow beautifully. You stood up, trying not to be seen awestruck by the eyes that still halted you to this day.
You poured tea that was still warm from the kitchen kettle and brought it over in a mug as it steamed. You promised it would help his headache, and he thanked you in a mutter as he drank.
“How uhm-” You said stuttering now as you sat across from him, becoming more interested in talking after all,
“How've you been?”
Leon swallowed his gulp laboredly, that probably being the only hydration he'd had in hours, and he cleared his throat softly,
“I've been alright. They take me everywhere now that I'm an agent. I'm wondering when they'll let me off the leash for a while.”
You smiled, chuckling to remember how hardcore of a workaholic he was. Even before being promoted to agent, he was always everywhere for the city. Under the governor's orders or the mayor's. He did work like a dog.
You balled up in the armchair where you sat and heard as he spoke further with a growing smile,
“Yanno, I actually caught up with our old chief the other day. I told him that…you were still one of the best partners I ever had. He said you….went on leave for a while? After our last mission, I ugh- didn't expect that.”
Oh God, you thought with a shiver in your spine.
There was no way to explain that little leave of yours without telling the truth. And all of it. You struggled to find an explanation. Another lie. You only nodded, struggling to merely confirm that you did in fact leave the force for a while.
But, suddenly, there was a creak on your stairs where a tiny voice called out in the dark,
“Mommy?”
You both spun towards the stairs where the small voice came from and Leon froze seeing a boy, no older than five, sleepily rubbing his eyes in his pajamas. He looked back to you, silencing himself from even breathing as you interacted with what to be….your small son.
You put on your kind, motherly smile to ask if he'd had a nightmare, to which he nodded so sweetly. You assured him that you'd be up to turn on his nightlight in just a moment and heard him tiptoe back up the stairs with his tiny footsteps thudding.
He didn't see Leon. That was a relief. But Leon also didn't see him, not in this dark.
At least not his face.
However, once there was quiet again, you knew exactly how this night would go. Leon was too quick, he wasn't stupid. He'd piece it together like the trusted detective he was. And there'd be only one person to blame.
“I-” He stammered, getting the first hint that you were lying about something,
“I didn't know you had a kid..either.”
You stayed quiet. Maybe you wouldn't have to open your mouth at all. He could see you weren't wearing a wedding ring. Meaning this boy's father wasn't asleep upstairs or…away on a business trip.
You both were inches away from the truth now, and you saw as the pieces in his mind soon fell into place.
He thought of the last mission you were on together. Not the work of it all. Not the report, and not the recognition you earned for it. It was the night after.
That night.
"Fuck that job", he thought. All he could remember was that night.
Both of you had just finished your report in DC, shook hands with the governor and….tried to fly home. But there was a storm - the flight was canceled. And the only hotel with vacancy within city limits had only one room for the both of you. It didn't matter if there were double beds. Neither of you slept a wink.
"We….didn't even want to," he remembered.
"We just wanted each other. Over and over again."
But what month was it. Was it May? April - No. It was summer.
It was July.
“He's not yours, Leon. Christ!” You said in a quiet snap, knowing the face he made when his mind tried to unravel a timeline and do the math.
It was one last attempt at a good lie to make this all normal again.
Leon kept quiet. That face he made- The one that solved cases stayed firm in the thought that he needed to determine whether or not was being lied to. And had been for years now.
He reached to the end table at his side, but he kept his gaze with yours. He told you without words that you had one last chance for honesty before he looked at the photo being tenderly kept in a frame right here in the family room. He didn't need to guess if it was a picture of your son.
He knew.
His eyes moved down, stone cold sober now, and you tried to stop him from using that same ray of moonlight to see how big of goddamn liar you really were. He'd see the resemblance. There wouldn't be a need for him to do any math after that.
“...L- Leon, d-”
“Just fucking stop.” He said cutting you off with the first touch of rage in his tone now that he saw exactly what he'd been left in the dark about.
It was everything.
He began to unsnap this photo away from its picture frame, wanting and needing to hold it in his hands. His jaw tightened and his throat burned. He thought you were a better liar. Or maybe just a better person.
Sometimes, when he was alone, all he thought of was you…in that room with him in DC. Was this why? Because something wasn't right?
“Don't you dare tell me…that he isn't mine.”
He turned the picture of your small son towards you, practically holding the proof in his hands. He didn't need to remember the month you slept together. Or ask you how old your son was exactly.
He knew.
“-When he looks just like me.” 》
(Open to finishing this one ♡ more to come)
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