#Do the others really look down on him or is he just paranoid?
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It's Nothing
Sylus x AFAB!Reader
Inspired by my late as fuck period and joking with my friend that I was the next virgin mary. Not proofread cuz I want to post it but I'm tired of looking at it
Warnings: pregnancy scare, menstruation, period fic, anxiety, overthinking, lack of communication, communication, silly, cuddling, kissing, swearing
Word Count: 1,450
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"Sweetie? What has you so distracted lately?"
"Nothing! Nothing at all! I was just, uh- thinking about work, that's all!"
"You're a terrible liar. Tell me what's wrong."
"It's-" You falter, searching desperately for an excuse and coming up woefully empty "It's really nothing, Sy. I'll tell you at some point, just..."
"... Just not right now." He sighs, but nods, dismissing the subject. A frown lingers on his face as he turns back to the movie. "I trust you, sweetie," he says after a long pause, when it seemed the topic had been dropped completely.
The guilt sinks down into your stomach, but you bite your tongue and cuddle further into his side. The rest of the night remains tense.
You want to tell him. Admit what's on your mind. Finally release this stress from your body. But you can't! Because... what if he leaves you? And maybe you're just being paranoid for nothing - but you can't take that risk, not with Sylus, of all people.
Your period is over a week late. That's not terribly unusual, but it is suspicious given the fact you've stopped using protection in the bedroom. Well, not necessarily stopped, since you're on birth control, but things get heated and he's finished inside of you without a condom. So... what if your birth control didn't do its job 100%? You know there’s a small percentage of it failing, so what if this time is the time it chooses to be ineffective?
Dr. Zayne is the only person you've told about your fears, when you went in for a checkup and nervously asked if he could run a pregnancy test for you. You're not sure if being your childhood friend made the next line of questioning about your sex life more or less awkward. You do know that that test came back negative... But Zayne said after the fact that it could be too early to tell.
So all you can really do now is wait until you do or don't get your period again.
You know it bothers Sylus a lot, your secrecy. You two have both progressed so far in learning how to trust each other, even with the stupid things. This just... doesn't feel like one of those stupid things. You've only just put a name to the relationship, you don't want to ruin that now when things are so new and nice.
So you hold it in. You try your damndest to put it on the back burner and show him as best you can that everything is fine and that you still love and trust him.
You wake up with your body's internal clock. With the N109 Zone being so dark, knowing when day is is a bit tricky. But, Sylus is asleep beside you, laying on his stomach with his face buried in his pillow. He doesn't have a shirt on. A wide expanse of tan skin and rippling muscle is left exposed as the blankets all pool around his hips.
You smile to yourself, albeit a bit mournfully. You're glad he's still sleeping beside you, even if you've both been a bit rocky lately. It's all your fault - you know. You'll make it up to him somehow. You have to.
Slowly, as quietly as you can, you slip out of bed and creep to the bathroom...
"Sy!" You see him startle out of sleep, hand already wrapped around the gun under his pillow as he sits up, searching for the danger.
"What is it?" he asks sharply. You run and jump onto the bed, landing partially on top of him. He tosses the gun onto his nightstand and lifts you by the waist to reposition you into his lap as he sits up properly. "What's got you so excited?"
"I'm not pregnant!"
He blinks up at you with a frown. You grab his shoulders like an excited kid, looking at him expectantly. He feels like he’s skipped several chapters into a book and the plot twist reveal isn’t making any sense. "What are you talking about, sweetie?"
You're practically vibrating in his lap with energy. It's the most light he's seen in your eyes for the last week and a half. It's... relieving. "I'm not pregnant! We haven't been as careful with protection lately and then my period was supposed to come, but it didn't, so I had a pregnancy test done, but Zayne said it could be too early to tell when it came back negative, so I've been waiting and waiting to know if I really am and-! And I'm not! I'm bleeding again, Sylus! I'm not pregnant!"
He shakes his head, brow pinched with a pained expression. "That's the 'nothing' you've been distracted by all week?"
"Um..." You grin sheepishly. "Yeah?"
He takes a moment, eyes closed and lips drawn into a frown. That guilt that settled in your stomach during your movie night returns, doubled in intensity. You got over-worried and kept secrets from your boyfriend, when you could have just told him from the start how weird it was that your period is late and how worried you are about what it could mean.
"Sy...?"
"Mmm."
"Are you mad at me?"
He finally opens his eyes. The expression eases slightly as he shakes his head with a sigh. "Have the cramps hit yet?"
You shake your head. "Um, no?"
Suddenly, his arms are wrapped around you and your world tilts on its axis. A heavy weight settles above you. Sylus's nose presses against your neck. "Good. Let's stay here for when they do."
You try to wriggle loose. He tightens his hold around you and nips at your skin sharply. You jolt, but it stops your struggling. “Why do we have to stay here for my cramps?”
“Because, sweetie,” he sighs. You’d think he’s annoyed, if it weren’t for the way he runs his nose along the column of your throat and eases his weight fully onto your body. “When your cramps start, you’re going to want a heating pad and a massage. And since you hate my massages-“
“I do not!”
“-it’s better if I just lay here and provide all the heat you desire.”
His logic isn’t faulty… And, honestly, having him so close to you again, without the barrier you built between you both, is really, really nice. So, you relent. You wrap your arms around his neck and begin playing with his hair. He lets out a contented hum, pressing a kiss to your pulse.
“So… you’re not mad at me?” you ask again.
“No, I’m not mad. I was… worried. Suddenly you were pulling away from me with no explanation and no warning. I thought…” You gently pull on his hair to remove his face from your neck. He follows with no resistance, resting his chin on your chest as he looks up at you with such serious eyes, tinged with sleepiness and lingering concern. “I thought you didn’t trust me anymore.”
You frown at the admission. For over a week, he thought you were pulling away because you didn’t trust him… “I guess I didn’t help any, keeping my worries a secret…” He doesn’t agree, but you see a slight quirk in his brow. “I’m sorry, Sy. I didn’t… I just… This is so new. I was worried that if I was pregnant, you’d be upset or leave me or something.”
He scoffs. “I’m not so easily scared off, kitten.”
“And I know that now.” You lean forward and press a lingering kiss to his forehead. His eyes flutter shut, furrow in his brow relaxing. When you pull away, they open to look at you once again. “I promise, from now on, I won’t keep secrets like that from you anymore. You’ll be the first to know if I’m worried about anything.”
He grins slightly. “Thank you, sweetie. I promise to be just as honest with you.”
He lifts himself up just enough to capture your lips. Your mouths move together in a languid dance, sealing the deal you two have just made. It lasts several minutes. Neither of you really ever want it to end, but Sylus needs his sleep and you’re going to need all his love and care when your uterus decides to rain hellfire on you to make up for lost time. He pulls away slowly, trails light kisses down your jaw, and tucks himself back into your neck.
Everything feels so much more secure now. Despite all your fears, the relationship has grown stronger. And you know, you’re both going to be okay.
-
Bonus:
“Is the thought of having my kids that terrible?”
“You know that’s not why I was worried, you asshole.”
---
Tag List:
@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry
#fanfic#fanfiction#sylus#sylus x reader#love and deepspace sylus#lads sylus#lnds sylus#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#lads#lads x reader#lnds#lnds x reader#afab reader#x afab reader
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the recent development with 'everything is alright' has me wondering about king starscream and how... lonely he seems. granted rattrap is there but hes... not much company in stars mind, i think. like dont get me wrong i knew he'd be lonely and a little on the right side of miserable, but that in tandem with the bit about 'dont you know you're home/his future/the one good thing in his life' bit from the last chapter has me!! chokign up a bit cuz damn he really wasnt kidding!!! he got what he wanted but at the cost of still being miserable bc its fuckin LONELY at the top when youre paranoid as all hell with VERY REAL justifications to back said paranoia up!!! god!!!
Yeah, King Star isn’t all that happy. I do like playing with different versions of the same character and just tweaking the circumstances. In Everything is Alright he’s alienated himself from his Trine due to his paranoia, in True Romance he still trusts his Trine and has that relationship, so he’s a lot less paranoid and lonely, in Overdone his Trine just drifted apart. He could have made more of an effort to connect and reach out, but he was so focused on his goals, he didn’t really notice that gap widening until they’re almost strangers to each other
Overdone Pt 2
IDW RID Starscream x Reader
• “You’re weren’t on earth, were you?” He asks when Rattrap gawks at the human in his grip. Striding past, he heads for his private habsuite. Hears Rattrap weakly call out about the reports and he ignores him. They can wait. But you? A human from nowhere plummeting to your death. Closing the door behind himself, he studies you as you cling to his servos. Timid for a spy. “Well?” He growls, depositing you on his desk. “Where did you come from?” Who sent you to spy on him? Wants to know so he can and deliver your broken body to them.
• Falling on your hip, you stare at the big monster and his wings flare out. Trying to say something, anything, when you’re too terrified to make a sound. You’d been driving and then crippling plain had slammed through you, feeling like being torn in two. And then finding yourself somewhere wholly different falling to your death. It’s a nightmare and you can’t wake up. Lip curling, he slams his huge palms down far too close to you and you scream and cringe into a ball. “Speak! Who are you working for?” He roars.
• Pretending at terror? No, venting softly as that acrid shift in your scent registers, he leans back. Not an act. “I don’t know! I don’t know anything!” You cry, little voice broken and terrified and his wings droop slightly. Maybe you’re telling the truth, but you came from somewhere. Humans don’t spontaneously teleport across space and time. Except you apparently had. Servos tapping on the desk, he glares at you and the problem you pose. If you are a spy? An autobot ally sent to undermine him? Why risk your death? If he hadn’t grabbed you, you would have died. Maybe whoever had dropped you meant to see what he’d do and you’re of no importance to them beyond as an expendable pawn?
• “Stop cowering and sniveling,” he growls and you risk a glance at that scowling face, see his optics narrow at you. “If you show your fear, others will use that against you.” Heart hammering against your ribs, you watch him pace around the huge room. And when he’s not looking at you, you can breathe. Try to get your bearings. You have no idea where you are or how you got here, but it had hurt worse than anything you’ve ever felt. Tracking him as he lifts a hand, murmuring, you realize he’s talking to himself at the same time it sinks past the fear that he’d caught you when you’d been falling. He’d saved you.
• Why had he saved you? Because you’re not a monster not matter how much you pretend you are, that annoying, little ghost whispers and he curls his lip. “You know nothing.” Refuses to look, to let his processor trick him with impossible things. Would think maybe you’re a hallucination, too. Except he’d felt your little heart beating against his servos, the warmth of your body in his hands. He’s not mad enough to imagine details like that, yet. Though for you to appear when he was considering not pulling up? Are you a punishment? Drifting back to the desk, his head tips with predatory interest as he rests a servo against your throat and you lay a soft hand on him. You feel real. “Tell me why I shouldn’t rid myself of you. Make me believe you’re no spy.”
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Stalker König
CW: talks of mental health, concerns not taken seriously, stalking, talks of Guns, Reader is doing their best, you better be ready to Google the meaning of flowers 💕
Your eyes shift to the oven's clock.
1:23 am
You huddle in the corner of your kitchen, silently crying, and shaking with every bone of your body. You desperately clutch a kitchen knife while praying that….that thing goes away.
For the past three months the shadows have been terrorizing you. You Know that when you look into the dark, something is looking back at you. Everybody you've talked to has told you, you were crazy. You've been called paranoid, and a few days ago someone called APS on you. They'd decided that you weren't in any immediate danger, but said they'd come back to check on you.
Tonight you couldn't sleep. Your body shuddered with terror with just the thought of closing your eyes. It's been a combination of little things that has built to this.
At first it was just small things going missing. Pens you left out, the sticky notes you doodled on, jewelry you didn't wear often. In fact the only reason you noticed things of yours was going missing, was because you wanted to wear a particular pair of fancy earrings to a company event. You looked for 30 minutes before just wearing another pair.
Then your favorite book disappeared. After a long day you were really looking forward to reading that book in bed before you passed out. But when you entered your room, the book wasn't on the shelf. You looked up and down, but you couldn't find it anywhere. You throw one of your other books across the wall out of frustration and left it there for the night. When you woke up that book was gone too.
Then things you've never owned started to show up in places you frequent. A red beaded bracelet you've never seen before showed up next to your kitchen sink. That new lipstick shade you've been wanting to try, You found it in your medicine cabinet when you went to brush your teeth. All that is spooky at best, but what really frightened you was a single bullet left on your office desk.
You told your boss you were sick and went home for the day…or at least that's where you told him you were going. You went straight into a public area like the women of your past have told you too, if you think you're in danger.
Kidnappers never take their victim in a crowded area.
Safer in numbers.
Cry, scream, kick, but never stop fighting.
You walked into a casual sit down restaurant and spent all night looking up what kind of bullet you were clutching in your palm.
A 9mm, just a small hunk of metal.
But you've never even held a gun, let alone own one.
You want to believe that a coworker accidentally dropped it on your desk, but it was perfectly placed. It was set up underneath your computer monitor, just out of sight for those passing, but when you sat down at your desk only you could see it.
This was deliberate.
This was not a coincidence.
But why? Why would you leave a bullet on someone's work desk? Is this a death threat? Is someone threatening your life? That thought alone made you crumble faster than you expected. You fought back tears while trying to think of who you might have pissed off.
The Receptionist you at your office? All you said was that you wouldn't be attending her baby shower. And anyway she got her revenge by ‘accidently’ eating your lunch.
The Uber driver you gave two stars too after he made a creepy comment about your chest? He just gave you a one star review a few minutes after.
That one girl in highschool that didn't like you? She peaked in highschool, you doubt she'd have the guts to pull off this stunt.
By the time you're ready to leave, it was night. You felt the fear fraying at your edges, the shadow’s non-existent eyes watching you, so you called one of your friends to pick you up.
You faked being drunk on the ride home. When she asked you about work, you said that they cut your shift without telling you and that you didn't mean to get wasted.
You're not sure she bought it, but she never brought it up.
When she pulls up to the house, you thank her, and pretend to stumble out of her car. She made sure you got inside before leaving and you haven't spoken since. But you couldn't worry about that now.
Your paranoia creeped in and made you check every corner of your house. Afterwards you crashed onto the couch and watched Judge Judy until you fell asleep.
When you woke up one of the blankets from your bed was wrapped around you.
You don't remember doing that.
You've never done that before. That panic in your stomach quaked and you got up to do another search around your home.
You found nothing, but called in sick anyway.
Two days later, and back at the office, you were clacking away at your keyboard when one of the mail distributors knocked on your door. The carrier was 17 if you remembered right, he was one of their nicer carriers. He was always kind to everyone in the office and was always telling jokes.
This time instead of carrying a letter or a stack of files, he was holding a large bouquet of Coral Roses, Anemones, red carnations, and Heliotropes. It was a gorgeous assortment of warm tones with just a little cool tones to balance everything.
“Caught someone’s eye?” The boy asked playful. You stand up to accept the gift. “Does it say from who?” You ask curiously. “Nope, just that it's for you.” You pick up the flowers and set them onto your already crowded desktop. “Someone has a secret admirer!” The boy teases and chuckles at his joke. “At least they're not cheap. I've delivered flowers to people before, but nothing this big before. Who ever it is, they really like you, or really need something from you…” he pause for a second “Well, it's a nice jester non the less.”
“I suppose it is…Tell you what, if you snag me an extra muffin from the community breakfast tomorrow morning, I'll make sure to update you if anything else comes up.” you hold out your hand to him. He thinks about it for a second before shaking your hand. “Deal!”
By the end of your day, you gently placed the flowers into the passenger seat. You've spent all day thinking about the flowers and who sent them. Just like the bullet, you didn't have a clue, But it was still nice to be appreciated like this.
No one's gotten you flowers before.
Because this was your first ever bouquet you dislodged some flowers and tied them upside down into your closet. You also persevered some in salt. You put the rest of the flowers into two glass bottles with some water.
You thought about persevering more, but you felt like that was a bit excessive. Besides you don't know where or who they're from….what if they are from the same person that left the bullet?
Those are two very different messages…
Soon enough You begin to spiral down a rabbit hole of anxiety and theories. deciding to (hopefully) sleep it off, you crawl to bed and bury yourself in your blankets.
Suddenly your body jolts you awake.
Through the sleepy haze you don't know what caused you to wake. You look at your phone, that You apparently forgot to charge, and realize it's 2:56 in the morning.
You try and rack your Brain for an answer to your sudden consciousness.
Then you hear it.
Glass.
Glass sliding across the floor in another room.
You look at your phone again.
3%
You figure it's better than nothing, plug it in, and dial 911.
“911, where is your emergency?” A female voice asks through the phone. Then your breath hitches in your throat.
Yes, you know Where you are. But you don't know Where the danger is. You don't even know if there is danger. And even if you did the house is silent, any noise you make could alert whatever is in your house.
You quietly breathe over the phone and slowly lay back down.
“Hello? Is there anybody there? This is 911, what is your emergency?” The woman asks.
You just breathe over the phone and quietly as possible.
“Is there something there that makes you unable to communicate?” The woman asks, finally understanding.
You hum a quiet yes, As inaudible as you can manage.
“Okay. I'm going to find you using your phone's pinged location. I need you to stay on the line with me so we can find and help you, okay?” she asks in a more hushed tone.
You just hum again and strain your ears trying to hear any sound.
You realize that the glass sound has stopped. And quiet footsteps start shuffling around your home.
You can hear doors opening and closing.
Soft breaths.
It's then you make another realization. It's now right outside your door. You can see two large shadows on the bottom of the doorway.
In a panic you turn your phones volume all the way down and hang up. You slide your phone back onto your night stand and pretend to be asleep.
And just in the nick of time too.
Your door softly creeks on its hinges.
The air is still and heavy, making it almost impossible to breathe.
You know you have to keep an even and low breathing pace. One of the tips you picked up in health that randomly stuck in your brain is that sleeping people use less oxygen.
If you wanted to sell this fake sleep, you'd have to force your body to deprive itself of its most valuable resource. Only for a little bit. Just until whatever, whoever is standing in your doorway leaves.
It moves forward
You only know this when they step on the only creaky floorboard in your room.
Whoever is in your room is dead silent.
You have to remind yourself not to furrow your brow when they continue their movement.
The air is still again
It lingers
You hear the sound of fabric shifting and stretching right next to you.
The terror in your chest scratches at your ribs when you feel the gentle movement of your hair sliding behind your ear.
You have not idea what to do.
What do you do?
You rack your brain for what normal people do when they sleep.
Snore? No, if you start now it would be a dead give away.
Mumble? Mumble what? What do people mumble in their sleep? Nothing you can come up with on the spot, that's for sure.
You decide to make a bold move and as lazily as you can shift your body's position.
That's what people do.
You push deeper into your pillow and raise your knee to about stomach level. It's a totally normal sleep position and almost everyone moves in their sleep.
A knot in your stomach churns. You fucking hate yourself. What if they don't buy it? What if you're digging your own grave? For fucks sake you don't even know if the intruder is armed.
The intruder chuckles softly and the shifting of fabric once again is dangerously close.
You think they just stood up?
Whatever, if they're moving, they're likely leaving.
Suddenly you can hear the faint sounds of sirens. They sound only a few streets away.
Your admirer clearly hears the same thing and swiftly makes their move out of the room.
It still terrifies you how quiet they are.
You hear the glass in your hallway slide once more only followed by the sirens getting much closer.
It's only when you hear a pounding at your front door and the announcement of police, do you peel open your eyes and take a deep breath.
When you reach over to retrieve your phone do you feel something else touch your hand.
You readjust your vision and your eyes widen.
A flower
Or flowers
Bright, vivid red flowers.
One stalk, several flowers.
They take hours looking through your home, questioning you.
They tell you to find somewhere else to sleep tonight.
Like you'll ever sleep again.
You put on shoes and walk to a late night convenience store and wait out the stars there. You explain yourself to the cashier and they let you loiter in the store.
But you can't keep the flowers out of your head.
Your phone is only at 28% so you don't have much time to mess around on there.
It takes about 8 minutes but you finally find the flowers that were ‘given’ to you…
Red Salvia…
You really weren't crazy…
Thanks for reading <3
Totally forgot I wrote this.... My bad gang...
Also don't worry about the inconsistencies, I wrote this like 6 months ago and only updated a little bit.
#könig mw2#könig#könig cod#könig x reader#stalker könig x reader#stalker könig#slight yandere#obessive love#flower language#reader#one shot#könig call of duty#call of duty#cod mw2#modern warefare ii#yandere#obession#cod konig#konig call of duty#koing x Reader#könig x you#not beta read#no beta we die like men
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I am really loving your deep, philosophical look at the characters in the life series, such as the one you did for Cleo and here loyalty and love for her allies. Could you perhaps do one for Mumbo?
So I actually hadn’t watched Mumbo’s pov of anything but Secret Life and a bit of Wild Life but I’m sick and you asked very nicely so I decided to watch some of his Last Life to answer this lol.
The thing about Mumbo that I love is that he is so afraid all the time. And I’m not saying as an insult, it’s just the truth. Of everyone in the series he (and Lizzie) feels the most like a person who was dropped into a death game that, and this is crucial, he knows he won’t win. Not to bash Mumbo’s skill, but he’s not good at PVP, and he’s not great at keeping himself alive. Neither of those things bode well for his survival and he knows that. So he spends the whole time afraid. But what he lacks in skill, he makes up for in smarts.
One of the first things he says in Last Life is that he’s A) Completely terrified and B) Bad at surviving in Minecraft. He’s determined to survive on the merit of his redstone skills, but unfortunately, brains can only get you so far when when you’re being chased down by someone. He looses two lives in his second episode, one right after very triumphantly killing Joel with only a stone axe, because even when he does something cool we must be reminded that he’s kind of pathetic. Every time the boogeyman was chosen, he would hide in fear for a little bit, unsure if he could trust anyone. He’s extremely jumpy. In episode two he gets genuinely startled by items coming up after he places a block on them. And like, he can’t really because for his first season he teamed up with people who actually took the whole “red names cant have alliances unless the other people are red and boogeymen lose all alliances” seriously. Hence the whole “join me” thing with Grian. If paranoia was a person, it would be Last Life Mumbo.
His secret life series is probably the best example of him driven by fear and the knowledge that he probably won’t win. Like, he was paranoid in Last Life, but there was almost a resignation to the fact that he wouldn’t win. In Secret Life, he’s really really trying. But no one else believes him, which only makes him more frantic to prove that he can be good at this. For example, Pearl, despite being his ally, dedicates herself to Bdubs and Joel (and later Scar) winning, but not him. And the second he goes red, when things start going really wrong, he falls apart completely. He panics, like he always does, and flails. And most importantly, he still holds true to the old Last Life rule that reds don’t have allies anymore, hence why he tries to kill Pearl. He can’t get any kills, he’s running around like a chicken without its head. And he dies to a stupid joke he set up himself.
And then the best way to prove that he ends up taking himself out by panicking is Wild Life. First, yes, he does die to a failed trap he himself set up which is funny for the guy who relies on his redstone to succeed in the series. But then when he comes back as a zombie and has no fear of dying, he actually gets a decent number of kills? Like, if he would just take Natasha Bedingfield’s advice and release his inhibitions, he could feel the rain (victory) on his skin.
#mumbo jumbo#or is it#mumbojumbo#I can’t remember how I usually tag him rn#sorry if you wanted more I’m just not as insane about Mumbo as I am about Cleo#I did my best tho#last life smp#secret life smp#wild life smp
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Tongues and Teeth—Chapter 4 (FANART!!!!)
Slay the Princess fanfic written by @writingdevil !
If you don’t want to be spoiled, you can read this chapter here!
“Paranoid sighed in frustration,and that was when he noticed Cold's breath,thanks to the frost.He would've thought that Cold would be taking long, relaxed breaths,just waiting for the time to move again.But his breaths were coming out in quick, short bursts,as if he was trying to get to heart under control.But why would-oh.”
“That was when he realised-Cold wasn't bored and just waiting for something interesting to happen.He was overwhelmed,a feeling Paranoid was quite familiar with.”
……
“He unfortunately towered over Paranoid.It was eerily quiet as they stared each other down, Paranoid having to crane his neck back to even properly look at him-so close that their chest feathers were touching”
“They held each other's gazes,and Cold didn't seem to blink,an intensity in his stare that had Paranoid's knees wobbling,but he held firm.”
“This should've been the moment that Paranoid turned around and left him wanting more,like with Contrarian.The longer he stayed there though,the quicker Cold would call his bluff,or give up entirely.”
“But at this proximity,Paranoid could clearly see the slight tremor in the other's body,the clouded, almost unfocused look in his eyes.Cold hid it well, but Paranoid knew when someone was overstimulated,from his own experiences and with helping Hero through his own struggles.”
“He couldn't look away,pretend to not care.He did care,even if Cold acted like he didn't,and he wouldn't feel right leaving him all alone in these woods.The thought made his stomach turn.”
“Cold may act numb,but a body doesn't lie.”
……
“"Close your eyes,"he said,and he waited until Cold obliged,before doing the same himself.For once, Paranoid actually felt sure of what he was doing as he said,"Take a deep breath in,hold it for four seconds,then breathe out for five seconds."He did it as well,and was pleasantly surprised to hear Cold copy him.”
“He rubbed a thumb over Cold's knuckles and whispered,"Now do it again."They breathed in sync, letting nothing but the sounds of the forest consume them,and Paranoid,even though this was for Cold,felt his own muscles relax and his wings lower to the ground.A part of him wanted to stay in this little bubble of peace forever.”
Notes: if the author is reading this, I’m the anon that had asked for your voices designs! Sorry for taking too long regarding this ahaha
I had to design the voices specifically for this fic, which is why it took a bit long before I actually start drawing it! I also had to deal with my other projects and my irl stuff, which made it take even longer
Also, I know this fic mainly focuses on the blooming friendship and trust between Oppy and Jitters(Paranoid), but this scene just stuck with me when I was reading that part. It’s just so calming and therapeutic in a way, seeing Paranoid figuring out how to help despite not being in TLQ anymore. He’s really cool in this particular scene!
I might draw more scenes out in the future whenever I can! Especially some of the Oppy scenes! It’s a big “maybe” at the moment though…
#edited to change the formatting a little bit#slay the princess#black tabby games#stp#stp voices#character art#stp voice of the cold#stp cold#voice of the cold#stp voice of the paranoid#voice of the paranoid#stp paranoid#tongues and teeth
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When Pomefiore first came out on the JP server a few years ago, I genuinely thought that Neige's cutesiness was just an act and that he was far darker behind closed doors. But, nope. Turns out that Neige is completely "what you see is what you get", and that really threw me off. I'm not the only one. I'm not the only one. Other fic writers in this fandom like LeaderPinhead have said that they thought the same thing.
While it's fine that Yana never went in that direction, she never did anything with his character either. He's just a cardboard cutout for Vil to sneer at and literally nothing else. It's so bad that Vil ironically is the better Snow White analog. Vil is similar to her personality wise, being hardworking, adaptable, assertive and at times kind. He has plenty of flaws like being overly domineering, being too blunt and harsh among other things, but that's a good thing. Those negative traits only make him feel like a real person and a modern male version of Snow White. Neige's similarities are limited to only his looks. His backstory makes no sense and comes right out of nowhere. (Seriously, why wasn't he and the dwarves taken in by Child Protective Services, if he was a minor in modern times?) That's such a waste to me. Neige is the antagonist of the Pomefiore arc, so there should be more to him than that.
However, if I wrote this story, I would do just that. Make Vil the one based on Snow White and Neige is based on the Evil Queen, being like Maurice Cole from Black Butler.
While I haven't read Black Butler, from what I heard from one of my friends and after watching a summary video of the Public School Arc, Cole is Redmond's helper (not using the manga's term because it's a slur). He has a cutesy demeanor, coming off as courteous and polite. He is beloved in the school. Behind closed doors, he's the worst, and, in all honesty, is like a modern version of the Evil Queen. He's a vain asshole, who hates hard work, and frequently leaves his duties to those beneath him. He is willing to resort to underhanded methods to get what he wants. When someone does something better than him, he will make sure to knock them down.
Why couldn't Neige be more like that? Don't get me wrong. I don't think Neige should've been a copy and paste of that other character. Hell, I would argue that differentiating them is a good thing. Not only to change things up, but according to that same friend, he's boring and lazily written. Plus, I don't see Neige doing one of Cole's despicable actions being ever greenlit by Disney. But I think giving Neige some of those same traits would be a step in the right direction. That way he would have a personality and be an actual threat to Vil.
I have seen a lot of people say similar things about their expectations for Neige actually.
Thank you for your take.
You've made a very thoughtful entry here, and I will leave it mostly for others to read and respond to because I think this is an interesting conversation to be had.
My own thoughts are short, that I definitely like the idea of Neige being more characterized so that he can be more of, you know, a character, but I never really liked the idea of him being secretly nasty. I feel like there's too much stock in the corruption of innocence and really would like to have a character as straightforward and just nice as Snow White was--though to be fair we do have Kalim already so people might not want another character too similar to him. In any case maybe a fun idea would be Vil being paranoid about Neige like "No one of his celebrity is that nice!" and part of his beef with him is being annoyed by the idea that Neige is just that genuine. TWST fails at making much out of that rivalry though. With Yana's writing history for Black Butler and such I don't blame people for thinking there should have been a darker side here.
#twst#twisted wonderland#twst hot takes#hot take#twst hot take#ask response#neige leblanche#twst neige
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Hickey for the character asks pls? 👉👈
ohohoho! lovey suggestion !! i am always down to talk about a fellow ratt, so yes of course!
First Impression: IS THAT FUCKING HICKEY?? THE FERRET FACED FUCK I HATED WITH MY WHOLE BEING? THAT'S HIM? THEY MADE HIM A FUCKING TWINK???? People better not be fucking woobifying him i swear to god...
Impression Now: ohh noo. oh no my worst fear has come to life... i like hickeyyyy i like him a lotttt. i feel like this is how billy feels just "oh god. oh god is this working for me? son of a bitch it's working" On a real note though, he is sooo fascinating to me. He's a lot more genuine than i think people give him credit for. He's just so paranoid and has been taught to be so self-sufficient that it overrides any actual connection he might make with people. When given the chance to help, he does so, even if it is often tied to making himself look good. He didn't have to help Manson and Hartnell take Hornby's body down. He could've just cut in to undermine Irving and left it at that. He didn't have to grave rob to propose to Billy. He could've left everyone to burn in the carnival. (The fact he gutted McDonald do so and only looked as upset as "you fucking idiot, you stained my knife"... well that's just the other half of his personality showing) But he does all that. bc he does care. in his own twisted, detached way. Adam Nagaitas said something to this tune in an interview and its like. yeah!! he does care!! ...he just cares about getting himself on top (👀) more than any of that.
Favorite Moment: Goddddd what a hard question. Is it bugger victoria? (shout out fitzjamesbulletwound) Is it ratt wedding? (his smile is so sweet) is it his speech at the gallows? ("BUT ABANDONING HIS SHIP!!! SHOULD NOT BE AMONG THEMMM ☝️") i could be predictable and say its him taking his lashing like a fucking champ. his cheeky fucking smile throughout really encapsulates his "fuck you, I'll endure just to spite you" attitude. No it's not any of that. It's his casual smoke after he and billy get caught. it's really indicative of his personality and the unshakable force he'll be in the narrative. "there's worse things than being lashed ;)"
Idea for a Story: would loveeee to do a deep dive into his past. even if leaving it a mystery is more compelling, I'd really like to see what kinda menace he is on the streets of england.
Unpopular Opinion: that he actually doesn't want to eat people. he wasn't going into this with the hope that they'd turn cannibal. the situation had just gotten so dire and his lead poisoning and/or god compex had corroded his brain so bad he probably thought it made him an apex predator.
Favorite Relationship: He's got so many delicious dynamics to choose from but I think I'll go Crozier. He wants to be his friend. He wants to usurp him. He wants to fuck him. He wants to kill and eat him. He doesn't want his men to rough him up. He greatly looks forward to having a chat with him at the end of the world. He chains him to a boat.
Favorite Headcanon: that he plays the piano. and he's not great, but he knows his way around it. and its great fun to play for a crowd of belligerently drunk assholes who dont know the difference.
ANYWAYS THANK U THANK U FOR GIVING ME A REASON TO TALK ABOUT THIS FREAK <3333
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I'm really fascinated by the in canon reason for Rafe's glow up.
Like he kinda went from floppy haired insecure kid to built gym bro and there's some interesting toxic masculinity and man of the house and vanity and arrogance conversations to be had about that.
#rafe cameron#ward cameron#obx#outer banks#drew starkey#I'm once again asking is he clean or are the sunglasses hiding something???#Also has the group of kooks he hangs with shrunk?#Has he risen or fallen in popularity?#Do the others really look down on him or is he just paranoid?
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This is my official Batfam Magical Girl AU Masterpost (everyone clapped)
(image updated: 9/21/24)
I’m going to do a brief overview and then go into more details for those interested.
Bruce being from old money (and apparently being connected to Camelot) inherited a mysterious mineral with unknown properties. In its raw form it’s very unassuming, but when cut like gemstones and added to accessories it can be harnessed into a tool. By altering the mineral into a wearable item it allows the magic within to be channeled. The magic of the mineral connects with its wielder to create an outfit and (typically) a weapon. These outfits do not grant the wearer special abilities outside of the transformation and the weapon, but when worn the wearer is granted (what is basically) hammerspace and a nearly impenetrable outfit. The uniform granted is not something they can alter the appearance of but will change gradually overtime to reflect how the wielder has grown.
This mineral will henceforth be known as Arcanium. It operates on Kryptonite logic in that it’s— allegedly— super rare but also shows up whenever the plot needs it. (I’m aware it shares a name with a card game, but I wanted my Kryptonite spoof)
Martha Wayne unknowingly started the cycle by turning— what she thought was a rare gemstone— into a brooch. She died shortly after having it made and Alfred held onto it in her memory. Like canon Bruce goes on his journey of self-exploration to train. When he comes back he enacts his plan the way he does in Batman: Year One, where he goes out in basically just make-up, and it goes poorly. He wanders his manor trying to formulate a strategy and is drawn to his parent’s room and finds his mother’s brooch. Cue the first magical girl transformation. From there he alters the brooch to fit his bat aesthetic and the Batman Brooch is born.
Dick comes into his life the same way as canon. Bruce takes him in as a ward, Dick tries to track down Zucco on his own, etc. Bruce decides to use the other raw sample of Arcanium to turn into a second magical artifact. He lets Dick pick the theme, and thus the Robin Pendant is born. The rest is history.
(Before I continue I want to warn that I’m making shit up as I go, so some of this is subject to change as I move forward.)
The Robin Pendant is passed down from Robin to Robin. Each Robin got their own unique look while using it. Following canon, Dick and Bruce have their falling out and Dick gives up the Robin Pendant in a moment of anger. In this au I think Dick, not having the pendant to fall back on, tries to lead a vigilante-free life, but of course falls back into it. During a fight he somehow manages to stumble across Arcanium in its raw form. Recognizing it he takes it with him. Like Nightwing: Year One he has his conversation with Superman and decides to become his own hero. Using his knowledge of Arcanium from his years with Bruce he creates his own magical artifact and becomes Nightwing.
This is a good place to interject that I’m not changing any of their hero names. I was asked about it a couple times due to the caption, “Red Bow & Sailor Nightwing” on my Dick and Jason designs. It was just a silly caption, because I didn’t want to simply state “Jason and Dick Magical Girl au.” But being serious, I don’t really see a reason to change their names, with the exception of maybe Red Hood, seeing as I didn’t give him a red hood. My au operates on Sailor Moon logic where despite the lack of masks no one recognizes them, and it’s just vaguely explained by magic. I think it would be funny if Bruce chose to wear a mask anyway because he’s that paranoid, but we’ll see when I actually design him. Anyway point is Red Hood is lacking a red hood, maybe he secretly has a red hood on his jacket or maybe he really does go by Red Bow, I’ll leave that up to interpretation.
Arcanium does not just accidentally appear. At the end of the day it’s still a mineral and it’s not sentient, but the magic has an element of “the wand chooses the user.” It’s not so much a “chosen one thing,” so much as the magic can sense intention. It doesn’t care about the morality of the user, the magic is more seeking a symbiotic connection. (Meaning yes rogues can in fact wield artifacts.) Simply put, it wants a host that will be able to wield it. In its raw form the magic is dormant but it seeks to be… not dormant, so when it finds those who actually have the potential to create an artifact and use it, it reveals itself. It was not a coincidence that Martha had the inclination to have the brooch made, it was not a coincidence that Bruce was drawn to his parent’s room, and it was not a coincidence that Dick found Arcanium in the alleyway.
Each of the Bats have their origin moments with their own magical artifacts. I don’t have the whole timeline down, but I will say there was a lot of drama between Tim and Damian, because Tim was forced to hand over the pendant. Even though he technically relinquished it, emotionally the connection wasn’t severed. No one was sure if the transition would work, but Arcanium responds to whoever needs it more and therefore who will use it more. Like canon, Tim is having an awful time during that era. On top of all of it he’s had his title stripped from him and he can’t even argue because if it wasn’t the right move the pendant wouldn’t have responded to Damian. Dick tries to comfort him by telling him that Arcanium will appear for him when he’s ready, but Tim is furious and impatient. So like a well-adjusted person he decides he’s going to engineer his own magical artifact artificially. It goes as well as his attempt to clone Kon does. It’s not until Tim starts to get back on his feet that Arcanium presents itself to him. My thinking is that while Arcanium finds its users when they need it most, Tim’s case is abnormal. His acquisition of the pendant was unconventional from the start since he showed up and demanded to take on the Robin role. Arcanium is drawn to individuals who will actually use its properties. Tim tends to rely more on his own detective work, which renders the pendant’s properties pretty moot. Especially when he’s going off the deep end, he becomes a hermit meaning a) he wouldn’t really need/use Arcanium’s properties and b) he inadvertently limited his own chances of stumbling across it “in the wild.”
In a similar vein I believe Barbara’s journey is abnormal in that she forged her own Batgirl artifact that operates a little differently than the others, seeing as she made it without Bruce’s influence. After the accident she shelved it, maybe she passed it down to Cass, but eventually she gets it back. She created the Oracle identity without it, and for a long time the Batgirl artifact is something she avoids using, until she gets the idea to combine it with her computer to create a magic computer… sort of. She gets a uniform that is basically connected to the computer.
Going back to Damian needing the Robin Pendant more, its reaction to his acquisition was unique. As I mentioned previously the suits typically provide a weapon, well Damian is the exception. Unlike all the other Robin’s Damian didn’t need more weapons in his life, what he needed was guidance. For the first time the pendant granted Damian a magical animal guardian, which is how he gets Alfred the Cat in this au. Despite being an animal lover Damian is extremely pissed at this development. He wanted dual swords or a scarier animal at least. He can’t formally communicate with Alfred the Cat but he understands him intrinsically, though Alfred the Cat seems to be able to understand human speech somewhat. Only Damian seems to be able to truly understand Alfred the Cat. (Cue the antics of his siblings trying to figure out what the cat means or trying to control him in any capacity.) Besides being an animal, Alfred the Cat is also unique in that he doesn’t dissipate when Damian isn’t in uniform the way that the weapons do. Like the weapons he can be summoned by the pendant, but he seems to have existed prior to the pendant’s creation. (I’m toying with the idea that while in uniform, the cat would also get some sort of uniform.)
Before I get into Duke and his abnormalities, I want to address the Speedsters in this au. It’ll make sense after.
So the Flash. I want to say I don’t know if I will get around to creating full designs for them. I do have plans for Bart and maybe Wally, but I have determined how I want their mechanics to operate in the context of the au. Not all the heroes in this au are “magical girls,” in fact I’ve made the executive decision that you have to be human to wield an artifact. Arcanium may have magic in it, but it doesn’t grant its user magical abilities beyond the uniform itself. The speedsters retain their canon origins, hit by lighting blah blah blah, only with one key difference: they had Arcanium on them when they were hit. Instead of engineering an artifact Arcanium fused with their bodies granting them powers. I want to keep the magic transformation aspect (because it’s not a magical girl au without it), so instead of using a physical artifact as a channel for their powers, it’s instead the act of transforming that serves as a gateway to their speed abilities.
To me it was always important to maintain Batman’s identity of not having super powers and having to rely on engineering, which is why the Batfam have to physically build their artifacts. In a similar way I wanted to retain the integrity of the Flash’s identity of being meta but also still human. Which brings me back to Duke. I know in canon that Duke inherited his abilities, but for the sake of the au I’ve decide that he either had an accident when he was young in which traces of Arcanium fused with him or his parents had it in them and he inherited it from them, but regardless it’s less potent, but operates similar to the Speedsters. For years he couldn’t fully transform or use his powers and it wasn’t until— with Bruce’s guidance— he was able to create an artifact that allowed him to channel his abilities and transform. Even though he is a meta I wanted him to still have some of those Batfam qualities in there.
But what about the Superfam? They’re not human so how do their transformations work? The answer is simple: They’re not “magical girls.” At least not real ones, they’re faking. They’re not human (Kon and Jon are technically half human but they still get their abilities from their Kryptonian DNA), and thus cannot forge a connection with Arcanium. Truthfully I’m about to get silly— even sillier than this au already is— but I have decided that Clark is a fake artifact wielder. I like the idea that Batman has been operating longer than Superman has, so when Clark decided to become a hero in his own right his only example of how to style himself was from the bat themed vigilante, who might as well be a cryptid, operating out of Gotham. Only blurry pictures of him existed, so Clark designed his outfit based on his Kryptonian origins and Batman’s aesthetics. He had no idea about the existence of Arcanium or how it worked. This is also why Kon’s design looks so much like his canon outfit with a few magical girl elements (and definitely not because I think the lines in his canon suit already lend themselves well to a magical girl aesthetic and didn’t want to change much). Later when he gets to know Batman more he learns about the transformations, to which he panics and invents his own transformation using Kryptonian tech (ex: MAWS’s transformation). For years Bruce goes crazy trying to figure out Arcanium’s effects on aliens and if it grants them abilities on top of the ones they’re born with, and if Clark has plans to use it as a weapon, and how he managed to forge the connection in the first place— Clark comes clean as a fake once they reveal their identities to each other.
Side tangent but I find it hilarious that Green Lanterns are— by technicality— already “magical girls,” considering they’re granted magical accessories that give them powers and transform their clothing. Hal is very clear with the JL that he is nothing like Batman and constantly feels the need to assert that he is not a magical artifact wielder. The non-human members of the team still lump them together anyway.
Things I haven’t figured out:
- what each of the batfam’s weapons are
- what each of the magical artifacts are
- what to refer to magical artifact wielders as
Stepping outside the canon(?) lore of the au for a minute, obviously I’m redesigning DC characters using inspiration from a genre, because that’s what “magical girl” is. It’s a genre. This is why I refer to it in quotes and don’t call them magical boys, because I am always referring to it as a genre, which isn’t a gendered thing. However, in universe they wouldn’t call themselves magical anything, the same way the characters of Sailor Moon don’t refer to themselves as magical girls, but rather Sailor Scouts. As of right now I’m sort of just referring to them as artifact wielders, but I feel like Bruce would come up with a better name. On a similar note, throughout this whole thing I’ve been referring to Arcanium in it’s wearable state as an artifact. I don’t know if that’s the best term, but I can’t think of anything better for the generalized form of Arcanium outside of it’s raw state. For now I guess it will be “artifacts” and “artifact wielders.”
- how the wonderfam fits into this
I really can’t think of a reason why Wonder Woman would be a “magical girl” in this au. She was born with abilities, she’s not human, and I can’t see her altering her uniform to match the aesthetic. A transformation would just be a waste of time for her. I could to see maybe Cassie or Donna wanting to match with their respective teams, and perhaps maybe that’s why they would alter their uniforms? All I know is I want see Tim, Kon, Bart and Cassie as a matching “magical girl set.”
Fin… for now.
[I’m just going to put this here preemptively, because I’ve gotten messages about turning my au into fics or tiktok skits. You’re free to use this lore HOWEVER you MUST credit me not just for the designs but for the creation of the lore. I’ve put a lot of time and thought into this and I love that people love it, so I just ask for recognition. If you want to make something that’s inspired by my designs or loosely based on my au, just a simple credit for the inspiration is fine. You’re free to change things this is just how my own au operates. Regardless I would prefer to be tagged so that people can find me but also because I’d love to see other’s work.]
Current designs:
#dc#dc comics#magical girl au#long post#txt#batman#batfam#batfamily#batkids#batman and robin#superman#flash#robin#bruce wayne#dick grayson#tim drake#jason todd#barbara gordan#damian wayne#duke thomas#clark kent
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𝐀𝐌 𝐈 (𝟐𝟓𝐅) 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀��𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 (𝟐𝟖𝐌)
i know it sounds bad but we got high and he's hot!!
✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors. ✧. ┊ plug!ryomen sukuna x f!reader
Genre: porn with a plot Notes: thank u 2 @chososdoll for beta reading for me!! this is part of @ohkento's reddit-inspired collab! (ps this isnt a true form fic i just think he looks SEXY IN THAT PIC HNNNNGN) Warnings: 18+, dubcon, mean dom!sukuna, sub!reader, cheating, hate sex ♡, drug taking, weed smoking, blowbacks/shotgunning, heavy degradation, slight praise, fingering ♡, vaginal sex, sixty-nineing ♡, face sitting, squirting ♡, pussy spanking, noncon filming, coercion, manipulation, daddy!kink, creampie, cervix fucking. Words: 10.6k
“I’ve heard about you.” Yuuji starts, turning his head from looking up at the stars to facing you. Your mind feels cloudy, but you return his stare. He thinks your pearly smile belongs in the sky; a permanent constellation to remind him of this moment. “How come this is my first time meeting you?”
You sigh, reaching over as he hands a lit spliff to you. The bonfire rages in front of you both, the smoke burning your eyes until they fill with water.
At least you have the perfect cover if you burst into tears.
“Things got… hard.” you tell him, not really wanting to elaborate. But golden-brown puppy dog eyes will you to continue. It’s stupid, really, how cliché people become when they smoke. You’re no exception. The intoxication and the setting make you feel as though you’re in an indie movie, longing to share your scars and become closer to the one attractive boy giving you his attention. “My ex, he cheated on me. I was with him for two years so it hurt.” you confess, taking a thick drag before passing it back to him, he tuts as he takes it from you.
“I’m really sorry,” he expresses, holding eye contact while he smokes. The feeling rushes straight to his head and through his blood. He laughs a little as he gets comfortable in his seat. “Sorry… I’m not laughing at you.” he clarifies, laughing again.
You start to laugh too, leaning over to grab the spliff from his hand before he sets the back garden on fire with it. Both of your attention is pulled from each other as you hear a scream from inside. The party is still going on indoors, and the scream soon turns into a girly laugh.
No doubt one of your friends flirting with one of the other guys.
“It’s okay.” you assure him, getting just as comfortable in your own seat as you smoke the remainder of the joint. You wrap yourself in the blanket you brought outside and turn your body slightly to face him. “It was with my best friend, too.” you continue, your deepest wound not seeming so scarring as you allow the high to expose your secrets on your behalf.
“Shit.” he shakes his head.
“I’ve been doing therapy and stuff so I’m better. I just wasn’t in the mood to see people…” you explain, jolting upright a little as you realise you’re oversharing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get so deep and make you feel uncomfortable.” you tell him.
“I’m fine, I’m the one who asked.” he chuckles, getting comfier under his own blanket as he turns to look at you.
His warm eyes make you feel relaxed, safe. And you hate it. You hate how much of a cliché you really are becoming and you hate that you can’t help it. This moment feels so much bigger than anything, but deep down, you’re paranoid, because you’re sure it’s the drugs talking.
You’ve heard about Yuuji, too.
You’ve heard about how sweet he is and how he doesn’t have a bad bone in his body. He has a sports scholarship of some kind, and after a quick stalk of his socials you noted how reflected this is in the form of his chiseled body. Could he really be so nice? He seems, perfect.
And apparently he, gives the best head.
“I have a secret.” he tells you, quietly. His voice almost drowned out by the crackling bonfire beside you. You aren’t sure what makes you heat up so quickly. The implication of his words or the way he said them. A lustful look in his eyes as the fire dances wildly beside you both.
“Yeah?” you tell him, cheeks fill with warmth as you try to ignore how fucking hot it is in pursuit of looking cool. And that makes you giggle, for some reason. Yuuji isn’t the one making you flush with heat, it’s the fire, idiot. “T-Tell me.” you encourage him, throwing off your blanket and fanning yourself dramatically.
So much for looking cool.
He grins, almost coyly, as he leans across the arm of his chair. And for some reason, you instinctively mirror him. Is it so secret that you need to be close? He might whisper it to you.
He tilts his head, smirking. His eyes flit from your eyes to your lips a few times. Enough times that you make a note of it. And your heart is fucking racing with each flicker of his gaze. You think you know what’s coming. But you stay still, watching him, waiting for him to make the first move.
“… I really wanna kiss you.” he admits. And if you weren’t hot before, you certainly are now. You try, and likely fail, to keep it cool. A wide grin spreads across your face and you burst into giggles. But your eyes meet his again, and you see a smile just as wide as yours on his face as he observes you.
“Yeah?” you ask, dumbly.
“Yeah.” he nods.
You gulp, shallowly, leaning in closer to him and letting your eyes fall closed. He smirks, again, leaning in until your lips meet. It’s sweet and passionate, until he pulls away. It surprises you a little. Worries you, even. Are you a bad kisser? Maybe you are when you’re high. But worry turns to astonishment as he pulls your chair closer to until the arms of both of your seats touch. He smirks, again, wrapping his arm around your neck as he leans in to kiss you.
And now, you really do hate yourself.
You moan into it.
You aren’t even sure where it came from. Was that really you? He grins, nonetheless, a feeling of pride swelling in his chest as his tongue meets yours in a more than welcome manner. You pull away, a string of spit connecting you both. A kiss infused daze covers your features as you look at him under heavy eyelids, and you pant, deeply.
“I have another secret.” he whispers, stealing another sweet kiss from your raw lips. Gloss smeared over your lip line and a dewiness transferred to his.
“Is it as good as the first?” you tease, giggling as his hand cups your face. You mewl, melting into his touch as his thumb strokes your cheek delicately. Your eyes widen. A look of curiosity replaces the majority of the lust, though you both know it’s still lurking.
“Well,” he starts, his eyes begin to wander. You observe him as his vision roams from the sky to the flames beside you. He takes his time, the anticipation of his words runs rampant through your bloodstream. Until, finally, he blesses you with his gaze once more. “I want to stay with you until the sun comes up. I want you to sit on my lap, with my cock inside you, under our blankets. All night.”
You’d hoped once he told you that your anxiety would have diminished. Though you’re sure with the way his eyes are fixated on your lips, your heart is surely surveying an escape route from your slack-jawed mouth as it pumps hard and violently through you. He doesn’t seem worried that you haven’t said a word, and his gaze doesn’t falter.
“Okay.” you nod.
It excites you. You haven’t been with anyone since your ex. And it might be a bad idea, but it doesn’t stop you. It’s not like you’re rushing into being with someone. It’s been months since things ended with your cheating ex-boyfriend. You stand up, bringing your blanket as you stand over Yuuji, and he holds your hips gently.
He feels under your skirt, smiling when he feels how soaked your panties are but he doesn’t comment. He moves them into the crease of your thigh and encourages you to straddle him.
You do.
Hovering slightly as he pulls down his joggers and his semi springs free. It’s big and pretty, like him. You kiss him as he jerks himself until he’s aching. He’s desperate to bury it inside of your gummy walls, his cock catches against your eager hole with every purposeful stroke.
He throws his head back as you sink down on him, and your hips stutter slightly from the stretch. You’re trying to focus on concealing your bodies with the fuzzy blanket wrapped around you, but your lips fly to his in a bid to silence yourself as he sheaths himself fully.
“Fuck, you’re tight… so wet, too.” he mumbles, hips rolling ever so slightly as he enjoys the feeling of being inside of you raw.
You jolt, panicked, as you hear a knock from the kitchen window. Both of your attention is stolen to see the origin, and you spot a group of partygoers hollering from inside. Two of his friends and one of yours, they all cheer and whoop as they can only assume what’s going on under the blanket.
Yuuji smiles, shaking his head before turning back to capture your lips in another soft kiss. You’re too distracted to notice him flip them off until they disappear.
“Do I remember the night the most perfect woman in the world let me hit her raw after a few minutes of talking under the stars? Yes, baby, I remember the best night of my life, why?” Yuuji asks after you recall that first night you met. “Very cool of you, by the way. I didn’t think you were gonna say yes.”
You giggle, punching his arm softly as you curl into his side in bed. And you sigh, dreamily, thinking about it again. It’s been over a year since that night and you feel just as hazy around him as you did then. You were worried about him thinking of you as a one night stand. Worried that you’d just given in to this stranger for no real reason only to get your feelings hurt again.
But as the sun began to rise and wake you both up in that horrendously uncomfortable chair, he kissed your forehead and held you tightly against his chest. He stroked your hair until you managed to blink the blurriness from your eyes and see his in a new light. The crackle of the orange and white flames had gone from them. Instead, they were honeyed and soft. The kindest eyes you’d ever seen.
“The McDonald’s breakfast in the carpark was better than the sex in the garden, by the way.” you tease him, earning a tickle attack into your sides.
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s why you were begging me to fuck you in the backseat afterwards.” he laughs, stopping his assault as you begin to scream. You cuddle into him again, his fingers tracing over the flesh of your upper arm. “It was good though, really good. Should we order hash browns?”
“Yes.” you nod, excitedly.
He sits up and reaches over to his bedside cabinet to grab his phone. He sighs as he checks his notifications. You sigh, too, watching him as he gets out of your warm bed in search of his clothes.
So much for hash browns.
“Yuuji…” you start.
“Don’t start, please, I don’t wanna leave in a bad mood.” he tells you. He smirks when he realises you’re checking out his abs, only focusing on him again as he pulls his t-shirt over his head. “I don’t want to rush moving in just because you feel sorry for me.”
“I’m not rushing you, and I don’t feel sorry for you!” you tell him, shuffling onto your knees and crawling across the bed until you’re kneeling beside the edge of the mattress. “I hate your brother. He’s a creep and he treats you like shit. I have plenty of room here… you can move in here and have your own space and—”
“I know he’s a dick.” he agrees, pulling on his socks and slipping his feet into his sneakers. “But he’s my only family. I’m not just gonna ditch him. Why don’t you move in with me?” he wonders.
“Um… I live in a townhouse instead of an apartment and it’s better, it’s in a better neighbourhood and your brother isn’t here.” you smile, smugly, and it earns a chuckle from him.
“Okay, you’re right about that. Speaking of which though I can’t stay tonight but you can come over if you want. I’ll order those hash browns for you tomorrow when I’m on my to the gym. I’m booked with PT sessions my entire shift.”
“I’m not waking up at 6am to eat hash browns alone, Yuuji.” you roll your eyes.
“You can text me when you wake up and I’ll order them for you. Pleeeeease?” he flutters his eyelashes dramatically before kissing your forehead. “Good girl.”
“I didn’t say yes?” you respond, flabbergasted. “Is Sukuna gonna be there?”
“Well, yeah. He lives there.” Yuuji tells you, earning an eye roll from you. He is in complete agreement on how much his older brother sucks. He understands why you hate him. He’s irritating, he’s crass and seems to have no concept of personal space or privacy. Yuuji doesn’t care for his brother in the least, and he has no doubt the feeling is mutual. There is love there, of course, but only out of necessity. “You don’t seem to mind him when the family discount applies for weed, though. Interesting.” he says with faux suspicion.
“Okay, that is literally the only thing he’s good for.” you remind him. He laughs, agreeing.
He kisses your lips chastely, hurrying to grab his backpack to hurry home to his expectant brother. The only two reasons he ever leaves you in haste are for work, or for Sukuna. Today was meant to be a day you could spend together since you both have the day off.
But of course, Sukuna ruins everything.
YUUJI: FORGOT TO ASK YUUJI: ARE WE SMOKING TONIGHT? YOU: DUH! YUUJI: BETTER BE NICE TO SUKUNA FOR THAT FAMILY DISCOUNT THEN 😉
You stand outside of your boyfriends apartment complex, shivering, waiting for somebody to answer the door. He ordered a taxi for you since he knows you always worry about your car getting broken into when you visit, his own car suffering numerous break-ins in the span of your relationship.
And really, you don’t want somebody to answer the door. You want it to be Yuuji, specifically, the thought of Sukuna answering the door and tormenting you until you get to the safety of Yuuji’s room is entirely too much to handle. Your nerves are already shredded by being here, the thought of having a battle of words with Sukuna will surely tip you over the edge.
“Oh, hey, I didn’t think you’d get here so quickly.” you hear a voice from behind you. You turn around to see Yuuji. Fuck. You see the hallway light flicker on from under the crack of the front door to his apartment and you realise too late that a demon has been summoned. “I went and got cookie ingredients, I thought we could bake some before we smoke later.”
“Sounds fun.” you smile, his sweet idea assuages the tension you feel, albeit briefly, before his elder brother swings open the front door. Yuuji pulls his lips into a thin line when you can barely contain the scoff that scratches through your throat. Sukuna rolls his eyes, moving aside to let you both in. He peaks inside the bag Yuuji is holding before his little brother smacks his hand away. “Do not touch or I will kill you.” Yuuji warns him, carrying the ingredients to the kitchen before putting them away.
You decide to help, hoping it will go quicker if you pitch in and you can escape his brother’s intimidating stare faster. Sukuna approaches, leaning over a counter as he watches you both.
“Nice of you to grace us with your presence, princess. It’s been a while.” Sukuna taunts, but you ignore him. He clacks his fingernails against the countertop, and the sound is jarring. He smirks when you shoot him a pointedly aggravated stare, giving him reason to do it more. “What do we owe the pleasure?”
You sigh, nostrils flaring as you put two bars of chocolate in the fridge.
“We’re just hanging out, gonna bake these cookies and smoke.” Yuuji answers for you. So you smile, falsely, and rest your back against the wall once you’re done. “Oh, speaking of which… family discount?”
“I’m busy now.” Sukuna looks at you and then back at his brother. “Ask me later.” he expresses, red eyes fixed on you for a moment before he turns to leave.
It’s like you can finally breathe again when you hear him go to his room and close the door. You kick yourself away from the wall and into Yuuji’s open arms. He smooths his heavy hand over your hair, hoping you’ll relax a little. He spends some time figuring out what you can do to pass some time, knowing you’ll need a distraction.
“Let’s just bake the cookies.” you speak, words muffled as you talk into his shirt. You pull away as he looks down at you so that you can speak to him clearly. “I just wanna stay in your room all night…”
“Sure, baby, whatever you want.” he nods. “Okay, lets get all of the ingredients out again.”
He takes his time trying to remember where everything is. You, on the other hand, are rushing to gather them all. Sukuna has a way of making your anxiety spike. He’s too… commandeering. He has a way of forcing everyone’s attention to remain solely on him whether you try to ignore him or not.
You’re intimidated by him, he’s more muscular than your boyfriend and he’s a drug dealer for fuck sake.
It brings shame to you when Yuuji has to snap his fingers to get you out of your trance as you think about his brother. You start cutting up the chocolate bars while he puts ingredients in the stand mixer.
And your mind wanders, again. It’s not like you’re scared of Sukuna. Well, you are, terrified would be more apt. But you know he wouldn’t do anything to you. He’d risk losing Yuuji. And as much as they don’t really get along, they’re extremely co-dependent. Especially Sukuna. He likes the presence of his little sibling and has a slight superiority complex due to being older.
The reality is, you think Sukuna would be lost without Yuuji. Lonely, even. And having Yuuji’s steady income is a nice sense of security for him. He makes plenty of money being a dealer, of course, but he knows it’s a fools game. It’s not reliable and it’s risky.
You put the chocolate chunks into the mixer and watch him as he masterfully fills the ingredients into the bowl. Your thoughts calm for a moment as you can do nought but watch the whisk whir.
“You know I wanna move in with you eventually, right?” Yuuji tells you, and it fully breaks you from your train of thought. You look at him, staying silent so that he can feel free to continue speaking. He leans against the counter as the ingredients continue to mix. “I wanna live with you… marry you… all that.”
His talk of marriage makes your cheeks fill with heat, though you’ve gotten better at playing things cool since your first encounter. You just smile, and nod, as you drink in the delicious information.
“I’m just worried about him.” he tilts his head, indicating he is referring to his elder brother. You nod in understanding, though you don’t have much sympathy for your future brother-in-law. The thought sends a shiver down your spine. “We aren’t like you, we don’t have a big family. It’s just us.”
“Well my family isn’t that—” you stop yourself, looking into Yuuji’s disappointed eyes. It’s foolish to pretend you aren’t blessed with an adoring family. You’re your parents only child, though. You can’t imagine what it’s like to have a sibling. And, of course, you’re spoilt rotten. The reality is that if you didn’t come from privilege, you and Yuuji could have been neighbours. But your parents weren’t about to let you live in a dangerous neighbourhood when they can easily afford to subsidise you. “It must be tough, baby. I know you feel guilty for wanting to leave him.” you rub your hand up and down his arm as a show of comfort.
“Yeah…”
“But…” you start, his eyes locking with yours again. “He’s a grown man, Yuuji. You’ve lived the same life and look at you now… You’re nothing like him.”
You’re right. He knows you are, that’s why you’re standing in silence until the timer goes off and he checks the ingredient bowl. It’s sticky. He scoops a little on his finger and dots it on your nose. The kitchen fills with laughter as you try to retaliate. He’s too fast for you, though.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry…” he tells you as the situation calms. He licks the chocolatey dough from your nose and presses a gentle kiss onto the tip. And dammit you can’t help but smile.
You begin rolling the dough into balls on a tray. The silence has dissipated, but your thoughts still run rampant. Should Sukuna really be Yuuji’s responsibility? No, of course not. But Yuuji won’t see it that way. He’s sensitive and caring. God, he cares so much.
It makes you dizzy as you watch him smile and walk with the cookies to the oven. They smell so great already, you could have eaten them raw. But they’ll be even better when they’re baked to perfection.
You’ve made these cookies so many times now. The pair of you have process committed to memory. They’re so good. Especially with a tall glass of milk. You always tease Yuuji when you do this since he’s always left with a milk moustache after devouring his plate of cookies.
The sound of the timer rings through the kitchen again. You clap excitedly as Yuuji covers his hands with some oven mitts. The chocolatey smell hits you both like a train, the pair of you moaning involuntarily as you inhale it. He brings them over to the countertop, setting them down to cool.
Sukuna smells it, too. He loves it when you bake cookies because he knows neither of you will deny him one. He’s been smoking and playing video games since he retreated to his room. He’s thoroughly stoned and would very much enjoy a sweet treat right about now. He pauses his game, and the sound of his door opening and closing brings back all of the tension to your body.
“Here.” Sukuna speaks as he enters the kitchen. He tosses a baggie onto the counter and looks at his brother expectantly. Yuuji nods, reaching into his pocket for his wallet so he can pay him. Sukuna’s eyes are fixed on you in the meantime. And as you go to grab the weed, he places his hand over it and pulls it back towards himself.
“Thanks, man.” Yuuji smiles, handing the cash to his brother who pockets it without even checking it’s right. Though Sukuna’s stare doesn’t waver, you find yourself looking down at his hand covering the weed and then turning away completely. He internally beams with pride at that, thrilled to know it’s still so easy to intimidate you. But on the outside it’s simply portrayed as a slight curve of the corner of his mouth. “Is something wrong?” Yuuji wonders.
“Yeah, actually,” Sukuna speaks, finding your eyes again before he looks into Yuuji’s. “I want a cookie, call it family tax.”
“Take two.” you tell him, sternly, a new ferocity in your eyes he hasn’t seen before. You walk over to them and place two cookies on a little plate for him. You go to hand it to him, but as he reaches out to grab them you place them down on the counter. “Let them cool.” you smile, sarcastically.
“Aren’t you sweet.” Sukuna snarls, teeth bared as he slides the plate towards himself. “Sweet enough for your turn. Pay up, you know what I want.” he chuckles. He turns his head and taps his finger against his cheek.
“C’mon, dude…” Yuuji tries to interject. You know Yuuji is furious, deep down. But he won’t call him out on it. Last time he did he wouldn’t give either of you any weed for two weeks. It wouldn’t be a problem if you knew anyone else you could buy from. And the shit Sukuna gets is good. Yuuji has given up on trying to be a dominating presence when it comes to living with his brother. Sukuna is always one step ahead and Yuuji can’t quite keep up.
You go to him, reluctantly, and plant a soft kiss to his cheek. It makes your skin crawl. He makes your skin crawl. And despite your sense of urgency to flee the scene, you can’t. His hand grabs your wrist, and Yuuji is ready to spring to action. Sukuna’s face is unbearably close to yours. His red eyes piercing your own as he does all he can to make you feel small and pathetic.
“That’s a good girl.” he sneers, placing the baggie on the top of your hand after releasing your wrist. He chuckles, darkly, as he walks away with his plate of cookies, taking a bite out of one before he disappears. He kicks his bedroom door shut behind himself, the sound of laughter and guns shooting loudly from his TV are the only thing either of you can hear.
“I’ll bring the cookies and clean up.” Yuuji sighs as he ventures to the sink. “Go and get comfy and pick a movie.”
You don’t say anything, leaving your boyfriend to tidy up in silence. You’re seething with rage. This isn’t right. He does this every single time you’re here and you buy a deal from him. And Yuuji just lets him. You know you neither of you have much choice if you want the access and ability to smoke. But it’s getting to you, badly.
Around fifteen minutes pass after you left the kitchen. You’ve since gotten into your sweatpants and comfortable vest. Shorts would have been preferable, since there’s still an uncomfortable sizzle to the November air, but you’ve learnt your lesson about what you wear when you visit the Itadori household. You’ve had Sukuna leer at your thighs more times than you can count. And it’s never subtle, his eyes lingering for a moment too long to have it potentially be an accident. It’s always so lecherous and purposeful.
You decide to watch Clueless, again. You’re sure Yuuji will be defeated when he sees your choice, he’s lost count of how many times you’ve watched it recently. It’s been a comfort movie to you, for some reason, since Halloween.
“Hey.” Yuuji smiles as he enters the room, somehow managing to carry two glasses of milk and two plates of cookies. “What are we watching?” he asks, looking at the TV. You rush to grab a plate and a glass from his hands to ease his load, putting them on your bedside cabinet as he does the same with his own.
“Clueless.” you smile, happily. “Her step-brother has been hitting really different for me, lately.”
He closes his eyes and stifles a sigh. You can see a laugh desperate to break free as his mouth shakes through a smile. But to his credit, he manages to compose himself, eyes opening again once the reality has set in. Clueless. Again!
“Sounds great baby.”
It’s been a week since you last got to spent time with Yuuji. Your work schedules have been clashing, it feels like a lifetime since you got to spend any time together.
You enjoyed your hash browns in bed after he ordered them for you when you stayed over at his place. Though he ended up ordering Sukuna breakfast, too, leading to uncomfortable extended time with him that you prefer to avoid at all costs. He tried to make conversation with you, he often does, but you took it upon yourself to go back to bed with your hash browns. You tried to enjoy them. You tried to relax. But it’s near impossible when you’re under the same roof as someone you loathe. You watched a Youtube video on your phone while you ate, and then quickly got ready and booked a taxi home.
You’d hoped next time you got to see your boyfriend it would be at your house and away from Sukuna. But, alas, that was not the case. You received a text from him at 10am asking you to come over ASAP.
YOU: is something wrong??
YUUJI: no
YUUJI: just stressed
YUUJI: pls can u come? I’m working tomorrow so I cant stay over ☹️
YOU: okay ☹️ omw 💖
You’ve never had a text like this from him before, and it scared you. Something was telling you that he was downplaying how he was feeling. It took you barely any time to get ready. Forgoing makeup and making an effort in favour of rushing to your boyfriend’s side. Maybe something had happened at work.
Maybe he cheated on you.
He could be dying!
“Shut up…” you whisper to yourself as you pack your toothbrush into its travel case and throw it into your overnight bag. You pick up your car keys, not wanting to waste time waiting for a taxi.
You throw your bag on the passenger seat and speedily drive off. Your anxiety and the adrenaline was getting to you, you knew you’d have to calm down or you’d end up getting into an accident. As you focused on getting to your destination in one piece, you took several deep, slow breaths.
You’re safe.
You park up your car and lock it up. With your bag in tow, you rush to your boyfriend’s apartment. Your left foot taps impatiently after you knock on the door.
No answer.
You knock a little louder.
No answer.
And then you find yourself knocking louder, repeatedly, while you wait for your boyfriend to answer the door. He knew you were coming. He said it was urgent. So why are you waiting here, freezing, for him to answer the door? You’re filled with relief when you see his figure obscuring the light trickling through the cracks of the door. Your teeth chatter, and you begin stepping from foot to foot in a bid to warm through.
But your blood runs cold as the wrong Itadori opens the door.
“Heh. What do you want?” he asks, a cocky grin permeating his features.
“Move.” you demand, barging past him with your bag so that you can hurry to Yuuji’s side. Maybe something is wrong. He could be sick and resting in bed.
“He’s not here.” Sukuna informs you, halting you in your tracks. You turn to face him, a scowl that could kill adorning your face. Did he do something to him? All fear you’ve ever felt from him dies as you approach him, setting down your bag so that you can hit or punch or scratch him if needs be. “Relax.” he tells you.
“Where is he?”
“At work. I thought you had your entire relationship on a Google calendar, you didn’t know?” he laughs, angling his body so that he can bypass you in the skinny hallway. You huff a little, picking up your bag again so that you can follow him.
“But he asked me to come over, he said it was urgent.” you explain, though he doesn’t stop walking. You hurry after him, grabbing his arm until he stops. And he does, his eyes slowly dart down to where your hand holds onto his bicep until you awkwardly let go. “S-Sorry. I’m just confused. Why would he text me if he’s not even here?”
“Sweetheart, I’m not his PA. I don’t fucking know.” he turns away from you again, opening his bedroom door. You huff, again, utterly defeated as you try and decide what to do. You look towards his bedroom door and then to the entrance. You suppose you could go home until he finishes work. Or you could go to the gym he works at and find out what’s happening. You head towards the front door, thinking you’ll decide once you start driving. Sukuna hasn’t fully retreated into his room yet, leaning against his door frame as he calls out to you. “I’m making a bucket, want one?”
Your eyebrows knot as you turn to face him, another involuntary scoff turning to laughter as you look at him in disbelief. He’s got some nerve. You don’t even want to respond, opting to carry on your journey towards the entrance before you look at him again.
“Are you out of your fucking mind? I don’t want to smoke with you.” you roll your eyes.
“Awe, why not, princess? I won’t even add any tax.” he smirks, already heading towards the kitchen as if you’ve given him the answer he clearly wants to hear. And you hate him with your whole heart, because fuck, if you aren’t intrigued. It’s been a while since you’ve had a gravity bong. “Excellent choice, good girl.” he winks as he sees you out of the corner of his eye, as he grabs an empty one litre water bottle from beneath the sink.
You don’t say anything, leaning over the island counter as he prepares the bong for you both. It’s embarrassing, after some time, that you find yourself having to avert your gaze as realise you’ve been staring at his defined back muscles. He’d decided to forgo any form of clothing to cover his torso, only wearing a low riding pair of grey sweatpants, though they’re a darker grey than yours.
It isn’t much better as he whistles, tilting his head for you to join him by the sink. You’d close your eyes if it didn’t make you look like a complete freak, only to hide them from his flexing abs and his juicy pecs. The tattoos aren’t helping, either. It only serves as a reminder that you’re hopelessly trying not to ogle your boyfriends, older, larger, and scarier brother. He’s behaving interestingly, though. He’s never been like this before. He’s dismissive and almost uninterested in you.
“C’mere.” he orders you, dragging you closer to him as he lights the weed in the bowl. You gulp, a little intimidated. Gravity bongs are something you don’t partake in often, you can’t even remember the last time you did one. He moves his finger from the hole he’d poked into the bottle and the water begins to drain from it. Smoke fills the bottle in it’s wake, and when empty, he screws the lid off for you. “Quickly.”
You begin to inhale everything. Not caring how fucked up you feel in the least. You show no signs of stopping, and it impresses him. Your fingers hook around the kitchen counter as you finish, knowing when your bones feel like jelly that you’ve had too much.
“Atta girl,” he comments before repeating the process for himself. He pays you no mind as you wander towards the corner counter space, lifting yourself up like you’re the queen of the kitchen taking her throne.
He continues to ignore your presence as he smokes, inhaling and entirely draining the smoke that had filled the bottle. He tosses it into the sink, walking by you to grab a bag of ice from the freezer, filling two glasses to the brim with the frozen cubes. He fills them with water, sliding one to you.
“Drink.” he commands, and you do, not realising how thirsty you’d become. Your throat burning and eyes flooded with red veins. You drink the water and immediately need to refill. He shows you a kindness, though, handing you his glass to drink before filling your own again. “You’re a real lightweight, huh?”
“Oh shut up. I’m just gonna go.” you tell him, jumping down from the counter and going to collect your bag again.
“You can’t, you’re high.” he reminds you, and in your stoned state the sentence makes you burst into laughter. “You’ll end up crashing your car. Fool.” he gives you another glass of water, refilling his own for a second time before turning to leave the kitchen.
“Great, so I’m stuck here with you and nothing to do?” you pout, opening the fridge to see if there’s anything to eat. “Why did we not make cookies?” you mumble to yourself.
“I have snacks in my room.” Sukuna looks over his shoulder at you, like a snake offering an apple in the garden of Eden. You’re tempted. God, you’re tempted. What else are you going to do until Yuuji gets home? He grins, widely, as he hears your feet follow after him as he walks into his bedroom.
You’ve never been in here before. It’s quite tidy, all things considered. It’s very tidy, actually. You’d expected it to be some dimly lit shit hole. It smells nice, save for the weed, the windows are open wide and the sheets smell fresh as you sit on his bed.
He throws a sleeve of Oreos at you and you turn into a giddy child. The two of you kick off your shoes, not caring for where they land as you both get comfortable on his bed. You’re above the duvet, sitting adjacent to him but angled away with your legs crossed. He gets under the covers, though, picking up his Xbox controller as he mindlessly plays GTA V.
You spend far too much time licking the cream of your first Oreo, utterly entranced by the characters, the plot and the violence of the game he’s playing. He doesn’t seem to mind when you ask him a million questions about it, either. He’s more amused that you’re so clueless.
“Here,” he tosses the controller at you. “Go for a drive, it’s fun when you’re stoned.” he tells you.
You’ve played video games before, you aren’t a total idiot. Though he had expected you to ask for more help when he gave you the controller. He thinks it’s cute that you try to obey the speed limits and stop at every red light.
He reaches into his bedside cabinet, pulling out a joint. It’s ignited quickly, his eyes squinting as he inhales and watches the screen to make sure you’re not getting him into trouble on his game.
“You’re not bad when you’re high.” you tell him, passing the controller back to him. He takes it from you, saving his progress before reaching out to smoke again. He sits upright, and you barely react when he pulls you away from where you were sitting until you're facing him. “U-Um…”
He’s giving you a look. That look. The look Yuuji gave you when he told you he had a secret. God, they could be fucking twins if Sukuna wasn’t covered in tattoos, it’s scary. But he doesn’t say he has a secret; he doesn’t say a word. He simply watches you with a pondering stare, but an aim behind his eyes nonetheless.
Your own eyes shift when you see him bring the spliff from his ashtray to his lips. The cherry end of it igniting holds your focus before your eyes are on his again, enraptured by the moment and what he’s thinking. He sucks the smoke deep down into his lungs, and you can’t help but watch the way his chest moves from his heavy breath.
You gasp, softly, as he snatches your stare once again. His thumb and forefinger grasp your chin and tug downwards until your jaw is lowered. His face is barely a centimetre from yours, you know he’s going to kiss you. But why are you about to let him? His lips ghost yours, and you’re taken aback as you feel a plume of smoke invade your mouth. He’s impressed when you breathe it in, though, but smirks wildly as you begin to cough it up.
“You taste like cookies and cream.” he whispers into your ear, the sensation of his words rushes straight to your heat. But your sense comes back, pushing him away from you as you look sternly into his eyes.
“I didn’t say you could do that.” you remind him, preparing to move back to where you were sitting prior. But he stops you, easily, pushing your body down until your head is in his lap but over the duvet cover. “Sukuna…” you sigh, your head and your limbs feel too heavy to move on their own anymore.
“Mm?”
“I’m wi- I’m with Yuuji… I’m with your brother.” you remind him, you move your head a little so that you can look up at him. He doesn’t look at you, though, still focused on his game. You can hear dialogue again, and guns, you’re not as exciting in comparison to that, you suppose.
“I know.” he speaks, his jawline bulging as he swallows and clenches his teeth slightly. “Don’t tell me you thought I was gonna kiss you. Silly girl.” he speaks, still not bothering to grant you with the eye contact you’re so desperately craving for some reason.
But your body betrays you as a whimper escapes from your throat. And that does get his attention. His game pauses, and he looks down at you. But you hide your face, scrunching your eyes shut so he can’t read your expression. But your shy little display tells him all he needs to know.
“Oh? You minx,” he torments you further, and you want to scream. You can’t hide your face anymore, your cheeks becoming too warm and your entire body sizzling with heat. You’re panting, uncomfortably as you try and cool down. “You wanted me to kiss you. You’re with Yuuji, remember?”
“I didn’t! I- I- would never. I love Yuuji, I’m in love with him! I’d never kiss you. Yuck.” you fib, if you weren’t high, you know you’d never be in this predicament. You know you’d never have agreed to hang out with him. But really, it’s a lie. You weren’t high when he asked if you wanted to do buckets. He intrigued you, and you’re a fool, because you fell for it. Hook, line and sinker.
“Hm…” he hums, his spliff resting between his lips as his eyes linger on your cleavage before roaming down your body to your sweatpants. He places the blunt back in the ashtray, his eyes setting their sights on your hands. He moves one with ease above your head, though you instinctively pull it back. But it’s too late, the other one joins, a singular hand of his pin both of your wrists down above your head. You wriggle against him, but you don’t pose a challenge in the least.
“S-Sukuna?” you question as his fingers breach the waistline of your sweatpants. A sadistic smirk sprawls across his face as he realises in your haste to be here you’d not bothered putting on panties. You mewl, desperately, as his fingers find your petalled flesh. He doesn’t do much, simply feeling your slick and teasing your folds as he examines your facial expressions.
“You didn’t want me to kiss you?” he asks again. He drags two fingers up your slippery slit until he finds your clit, rubbing targeted circles around it slowly. The tension makes your hips buck, but his face is stern as he watches you keen for him. “Then why is this cunt soaked?”
His words almost bring you to tears, and he can tell. The way they fill with water so rapidly and your face becomes sweaty. You’re ashamed. You’re embarrassed. He’s humiliating you, but you’re too turned on to tell him to stop. You don’t want him to stop.
“I hate you!” you tell him, and there is certainly venom behind it. Because you mean it, you really fucking mean it. He’s the absolute worst. You’re so in love with Yuuji, but he’s ruined everything, now. You should have known this would happen. He’s been flirting and teasing and bothering you throughout your entire relationship with Yuuji. But you never thought it would come to this, ever. Especially after what you’ve been through, you’d never want to inflict that same agonising betrayal onto Yuuji.
“I know. You think I’m so beneath you, yeah?” he grins, and your mouth falls open in surprise, though his circling touch doesn’t stop. “I’m a drug dealer, I’m a bastard, I’m a piece of shit. But, sweetheart, me ‘n Yuuji didn’t grow up with daddy’s bank account like you. But look at you, princess. You hate me and you’re still letting me play with your sloppy cunt.”
“Fuck you.”
“You can, I know you want that. You’re drenched. My fuckin’ fingers are pruning.” he laughs, you want nothing more than to cover your face in shame, but you can’t while Sukuna’s heavy hand trap your wrists. “Awe, you’re cute when you’re embarrassed. Much cuter than when you’re trying to be tough f’me.” his rubbing halts, though the sense of abandonment is short lived as he plunges two thick fingers into you tight hole, his thumb rubbing circles into your clit again.
“O-Oh, fuck, hnng—” you groan, eyes meeting his as he pleasures you. And he drinks in the sight. Your tongue lolled from your mouth as you accommodate his touch, the pads of his fingers batter your g-spot again and again until your back arches. “Sukuna, s-stop, we can’t.” you warn him.
He smirks, ignoring you, opting to do the opposite. He increases the pace in which his fingers torment you, his cock leaks when he sees a few tears spill from your eyes. He’s that good, huh? Maybe his little brother isn’t as talented.
“You’re fucking tight. You’re gonna cum, aren’tcha?” he taunts you, you attempt to clamp your thighs around his hand, but it only spurs him on more. His fingers sink deeper. Your mind and rationale become lost to him. “You’re gonna cum for a bastard like me? Your boyfriends brother, too. Gonna cum in your pants like a virgin just for me? Pathetic little girl.”
“Oh FUCK, GOD!” you cry out, thighs trembling around his hand as you orgasm. Your chest heaves, and he doesn’t fail to notice how your nipples have began to poke through your vest. “C-Christ, okay, lets just forget—”
“I’m not done with you.” he speaks, it cuts through you as he lets your hands go. You massage them quickly, before he pushes his full weight on top of you as you lie flat against the mattress atop the sheets. He holds your jaw, roughly, and kisses you.
He humps his clothed, hard cock against your soaked sweatpants, your slick dampening them with each roll of his hips. He breathes heavily as you kiss. An exchange of saliva and clashing teeth as you moan and break away before licking at each other’s tongues again and again.
You shudder when you feel him put his hands down your pants again, collecting the dewiness at the apex of your thighs before forcing it onto your tongue. And you suck, gratefully, replacing the loss of his lips with his monstrously thick fingers. You can hardly believe he fingered you so easily.
Your lips wrap around his digits beautifully. He moans as he watches your little hands in comparison to his own hold it in place so you can bob your head up and down the length, your tongue licks and laves until there isn’t a trace of your dewiness left.
So he kisses you, again, tongues tangling as he dry fucks his cock into your clothed core. His hands roam and pinch and squeeze every inch of your body that he can grab. He yanks your sweatpants down, tossing them aside with little care to where they might land. And he surprises you, again, when he manoeuvres you seamlessly so that you’re straddling him.
He thinks it’s cute as you look around, unsure of how you got into this position. But he brings you back to him when he humps up into you so that you fall forwards. You kiss him again, but he breaks it to speak.
“Let me taste you, baby. Sit on my face.” he tells you. You’re nervous, but you move yourself so that you’re hovering above him. He pushes a finger into your hole and you throw your head back in satisfaction. “I said sit. I wanna know what a slutty princess cunt tastes like, so fucking sit.” he orders, his arms hooking around your thighs and forcing you down until you smother him with your heat.
“FUCK,” you moan, loudly, as his nose nudges against your throbbing clit. You aren’t sure what to do with so much freedom to move. The way he slurps and feasts on your dripping flesh sends wave after wave of embarrassment through you. And he’s loud he’s so fucking noisy as he moans into your heat and drinks every drop that your heavenly cunt has to offer. “J-Jesus… ah—!” you yelp, feeling his palm come down hard to strike your behind.
You begin to roll your hips, rubbing your pussy up and down over his face and stimulating your clit with his nose. He reaches under your vest, tweaking your nipple as you hump his face. He spanks you again, quickly, as you stop moving. You’re too gone, completely lost in the moment as you use him for your pleasure. You’d never have expected this from him.
He relinquishes your nipple to free his cock from it’s material prison. You heard the sticky sound of it ring through the room as he jerks himself off. His moaning becomes louder. The divine taste of your cunt and the ability to stroke himself goes straight to his head. You’re gone, you’re fucking gone. But he’s right behind you. The way you’re smothering him makes him lightheaded, but he’s not letting you go until he’s ready.
You see the pink silhouette of his cock as you look over your shoulder, but you’re desperate to get a better view. He groans, so loudly that you think he might have came, as you tug on his pink hair. Using it to your advantage as you ride his face into your next toe-curling orgasm. And at that, you do collapse. Practically singing his name as you cum in his mouth, only when you’ve reached your high does he let up on you.
He admires the view of your tits as you back up to look down at him, throwing your vest over your head as carelessly as he’s discarded your pants. His face is shimmering with your juices, and you feel another searing tidal wave of embarrassment as the reality sets in that you’ve done this to him. And you’re still cheating on your boyfriend. But you’re past the point of no return, you think. Yuuji is barely on your mind, all of your attention is on his brother, now.
And he’s still not through with you yet.
“Do you need some cock?” he asks.
“Y-Yes.” you nod, pathetically.
“Look at it, then. Look at my cock and beg for it.” he tells you.
You adjust your position so that you’re hovering above his face again but facing his cock perfectly. It’s beautiful, you think. More defined than Yuuji’s but around the same size and width. His cockhead is more prominent and the veins are unmissable. You’d have begged without even being asked if you’d gotten the chance to see it earlier.
“Go on,” he starts. You feel his hands between your shoulder blades and he pushes you down roughly. “Beg for my cock, whore.”
“Please, please Sukuna. I need you to fuck me.” you start, completely reduced to tears as you look at it as your mouth waters. You hold him with both hands, and you’re still unable to hold the entire length of it. “Wanna cum on you. W-Want you to b-bruise my cervix. Need to feel you inside, please, please please.” you’re practically sobbing as you continue.
“Kiss it.” he demands. “Worship my cock, and I’ll decide if your slutty cunt is worthy.” he tells you. Your eyes widen, but you kiss his tip without question. It’s so sweet and affectionate despite how sordid and lewd it is. But you can’t help it. It’s worthy of worship. You’re sure it’ll hurt, but you’ll take it. You don’t mind in the least.
You lick your tongue across his slit, poking your tongue into it slightly and relishing in how he hisses from the sensation. He buries his face in your cunt again, moaning into your soaking folds as you please him.
His length is freed from one of your hands, making the decision to cup his balls as your kiss down his shaft towards his pubis. His head is thrown back as you make contact with his balls, the grunt he releases is ethereal, you’d never have known such beautiful sounds could from him.
You scream, slightly, as he spanks your ass. It encourages you to take him down your throat and ignore your gag reflex and you bob and suck and run your tongue along each vein it can detect. He can barely focus on eating you out, too bewildered with your near pornographic performance.
“Such a good little cocksucker. No wonder Yuuji likes you.” he spanks you again. “Think he’d still like you if I told him I’ve been balls deep down your throat, slut? I’m not so sure. But I like you, a lot more now.”
“S-Shut up.” you tell him, defiantly. You silence him as you lower your pussy to his lips again, distracting him momentarily with your sweet taste.
You feel his cock flexing in your hand, like he’s ready to blow his load right down your willing throat. Even though you don’t want him to cum like this, you wouldn’t mind. You’ll swallow every last drop for him.
He stops you, though, shoving you away from him so that he doesn’t cum prematurely.
“Hands and knees, now.” he speaks coldly. He admires your face quickly before you get into the position he wants you in. It’s glistening with sweat, tears, spit, and his precum. “Good fucking girl.” he spanks you as you arch your back and wait patiently for him. Your legs spread apart and your cunt pulses in anticipation for him to slot himself inside.
He doesn’t though, not right away. Instead, he leans over to his beside table and pulls his phone off charge. He kneels behind you as he pulls up the camera app and swiping to video mode. His sweatpants are shoved down his thighs and rest at his knees. He takes a few photos of your glittering, pulsating cunt, spreading it open as his fingers dig into one of your ass cheeks.
“Pretty fuckin’ princess pussy…” he moans, and you mirror him, following it with a giggle. You feel a sense of pride at his praise, arching your back deeper. “Ohhh there she is, good girl, good little slut.”
He drags his cockhead through your shimmering folds, gasping each time it catches against your hole.
“P-Please fuck me, daddy, n-eed it.” you whine, earning another hard slap against your ass. He’s happy, of course. He didn’t expect you to be such a slut, he’d never have expected you to utter such a filthy title for him of all people. He’s certainly never heard you refer to Yuuji as daddy whenever he hears you fucking through the thin walls.
“You’ve got good manners, for a whore.” he speaks, your hole flutters with each word, but he sees how hard you clench as he degrades you. A new understanding of what your body likes. He’d only been doing it for his benefit, but now, he knows you like it too. “Do you like being a whore for daddy, hm?”
“Y-Yes,” you pant, “Love bein’ a whore for you, daddy…”
“Cute. I’ll give you my cock, then.” he pushes the tip in before pulling out completely again, chuckling at how whiny you are from the loss. “But you know, princess, good whores like to be cummed in. You’ll let me, won’t you?”
“Please… please cum inside. W-Want you to fill me up!” you tell him, and it’s enough. It’s more than enough to have him bullying his cock into your desperate cunt. You moan, boisterously from the stretch. You’re sure their neighbours won’t be happy if they’re home, the whole complex probably heard you. But you don’t care, and neither does he.
He’s glad that you said he could cum inside.
It’s not like you had a choice, though.
“Do you still want me to bruise your cervix?” he asks, angling the phone in his hand to capture how fucking deep he is inside of you. Your ass pressed flush against him as you swallow his cock hungrily. You nod, dumbly, yelping again when you feel a stinging slap against your cushioned ass. “Words.”
“Want you to br-uuise my c-cervix, daddy.” you wince.
“You’re such a good fuck toy, aren’t you?” he laughs.
He begins to pound into you, his brute strength and weight behind every aggressive pummel of his hips. It hurts, God, it fucking hurts as his tip nudges against your cervix. But you don’t care, you’re sure you will when you’re sober and your logical train of thought returns.
But now, in this moment, you truly are Sukuna’s fuck toy.
And it feels fucking sublime.
He captures on film the way that you moan and gasp and plead for something you aren’t even aware of. The way your hands grip into his pristine white sheets. But is favourite part is watching how your pussy stretches open as you swallow his coke can cock. And the way your ass ripples with each pulverizing thrust into you.
“F-Fuck,” he moans, “You’re fucking suffocating me.” he speaks, barely able to contain himself as he feels heady with lust. He doesn’t stop, though, he doesn’t care if you cum anymore. He’ll finger you again to finish you off if needs be, but for now, he needs to be selfish. Thoughts of filling you up and flooding your unprotected womb make him feral.
“Sukuna! S-Stop!” you warn him.
“Huh?” he responds, showing no intention of stopping or slowing as he rams his cock into you repeatedly. The only thing on his mind is finishing, he couldn’t care less about your change of heart or guilty conscience.
“F-Feels funny, I- I can’t! Hnnng—!” you finish, cunt squirting and gushing like a fountain all over him. “Oh my god…” you pant, burying your face in the pillows as you hide your shame from him.
“Holy fuck,” he responds, thrilled that he’d captured the moment on film. You show no signs of stopping either. You squirt as much as a backed-up teenager getting his first handjob. He spanks your pussy and rubs his hand all over it, making a complete mess of the two of you and the sheets below. “Dirty little squirter, hah? Fuck, you’re like a pornstar.” he tells you, chuckling again.
You don’t dare show your face, but you mewl into the pillows as you ride out the rest of your high as he shoves his cock back into you.
“Do it again, on my cock.” he demands.
“C-Can’t, can’t cum anymore.” you tell him, utterly spent and defeated as you allow him to use your body for his own benefit.
“Brat. You’ll cum on daddy’s cock and be grateful that I’ve been so good to you.” he explains. And true to his word, he manages to build it up in you again, somehow, as he continuously batters his length into your g-spot until your vision turns white.
He’s not doing much better, either, still enraptured by the sight of your dripping wet pussy and soiled sheets. It’s something he needs to see again, a sight he will treasure ‘til the day he fucking dies.
“Cum, slut. Make a fucking mess.” he speaks through gritted teeth.
“Mmmnf, hah, aaaah—!” you moan, granting his wish. The sight helps him topple over into his own bliss. His cum flooding your ruined walls, he fucks it further into you, but pulls out eventually to see his sperm dripping from your filthy cunt.
“Are you embarrassed, brat? You sprayed yourself again.” he snickers, spreading your pussy open with two fingers to see the mixture of his cum and your release spill from your twitching hole. “Has Yuuji ever made you do that? No… I’m sure he doesn’t know you’re this much of a dirty whore. But I do, I know now.”
The mere mention of the man you’ve betrayed has you bursting into tears. The sex was mind-blowing, yes, but at what cost? You’ve been begging him to move in. Hell, he was talking about marrying you. But you can’t have that with him, now, not after this.
You sobered up a little after a shower, making sure to keep the door locked as you washed yourself of your indiscretion. You even waited in there until you dried off to get changed, not wanting to risk Sukuna seeing you naked again. The damage is done, of course, but you at least want to be able to proudly say it was a mistake that will never happen again.
Maybe Yuuji will forgive you.
There’s no way you can keep it from him. Not after what you went through. It’ll break his heart, of course it will. But you can’t hide it, it’ll just get worse over time when it eventually comes out, because it will. Whether you tell him or Sukuna does through a weed induced stupor, the truth will come out.
You’ve been checking the time on your phone repeatedly to see if Yuuji has finished work yet. Eager and filled with fear and anxiety so that you can tell him, honestly, what happened. He’s going to hate you. There’s no way he won’t hate you after this. But you owe it to him and you owe it to yourself to be truthful.
You tense up as you hear a knock at the door. Yuuji wouldn’t knock, so you know who it is.
“Go away.” you warn him, but it doesn’t deter him.
“Aw, don’t talk to daddy like that.” he smiles, a shit eating grin that you want to smash against concrete.
“You’ve ruined my life, get out of here.” you tell him, crossing your legs as you check the time on your phone again. You sigh, throwing it further down the bed so that it’s out of reach. You’d missed how he shrugged his shoulders with a laugh as he turned to leave. But you stop him. “Don’t tell Yuuji, please. I want to be the one to tell him.”
“Tell him… what?”
You look at him, bewildered, unable to process if he’s being serious or not.
“That we fucked.” you remind him, deciding you aren’t about to spend all day trying to decipher his tone. “I need to be the one to tell him, so don’t say anything.”
“Oh, tell him that?” he questions, laughing again as he realises he knows something you don’t know.
“It’s not fucking funny, Sukuna!”
“Yeah, it is, you’re a little slow on the uptake.” he laughs some more, sitting on the edge of the bed. His ruby red eyes piercing into yours intimidatingly despite the smile on his face. “You don’t need to tell Yuuji anything.”
“Yeah, I d—”
“Yuuji knows.” he laughs, louder, almost bursting into hysterics as he sees the astonished look on your face.
“W-What?” you sigh, looking around the room in horror.
“Yeah… I mean, c’mon.” he smirks. “Why else would he text you to come over, when he wasn’t even home?”
© 2023 rinitxshi
#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x reader#sukuna smut#yuuji itadori x reader#sukuna ryomen x reader#yuuji x you#yuuji x reader#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu#jjk x fem!reader#tw dubcon#tw cheating#tw drugs#tw degradation#tw praise#tw coercion#tw manipulation#tw daddy kink
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♡ TW: stalking, yandere, anxiety, paranoia, isolation tactics
♡ GN reader
You’re anxious. You probably shouldn’t be, and you tell yourself that. You’re being silly. Utterly silly. It’s most likely just coincidences—a string of oddities, enough to freak you out. And you’ve always been too easily spooked.
You just happen to have the same situation and routine, is all. So what? You live in the same building, both of you grab coffee at the same cafe on your way to college, where you both happen to go, both of you get off at the same time despite having different classes, both of you go grocery shopping every Monday before coming home, and both of you do laundry down in the basement every Sunday before bed.
It’s not such an original schedule, you tell yourself. Jeez, he's not stalking you! No. It’s natural to buy everything at the start of the week and even more standard to do laundry at the end of it. It’s normal! Totally normal!
You’re just imagining the rest. The way he looks at you. You’re just freaking out because it’s your first time living alone, out in the big world, all on your own. He’s probably in the same shoes as you. New city, tiny apartment, big campus, long lectures, broke shit.
Yes! That’s why he offered to do laundry together. One washer, one coin, one dose of detergent—that’s two for the price of one and half the price for both of you. Of course! That must have been it—and not any of the creepy things you’ve suspected. Obviously, he isn’t asking to do laundry together to steal your underwear like some freak—what are you even thinking!?
You’re such a bad person. It’s not like he’s done anything directly off-putting. Asking you over for dinner is a nice thing, after all. Again, it saves money and keeps you both company. It’s lonely living alone, after all. It’s not like you think it’s swell spending every evening with your nose in your textbook, just waiting for the school to plan a social gathering or something so that you can make some friends.
You’re such a dumbass. Wanting to make friends, yet shunning the one friendly guy in your building just because he’s been a little too forward. It’s not as if he’s asked you out or anything! He’s just being nice! You’re the one being weird! Thinking weird things—condemning him of doing weird crimes he hasn’t even done!
“Hey, neighbor,” he says. Right on time, just like always. Doing his laundry at the same exact moment as you.
“Oh–hey,” you greet back.
It’s not weird, you have to remind yourself. You’re here on time, aren’t you? How come you’re allowed to be consecutive, but it’s suddenly weird when he is? How does that make sense? It doesn’t. You’re being paranoid.
Oh, but then he picks the empty washer right next to you, even though there are plenty of others to go around. No one else does their laundry at this hour.
He’s being friendly, you tell yourself. Neighbourly. It would be awkward if he chose a washer at the other end of the room, wouldn’t it? Yes. Yes, that would be awkward.
“D’you do anything fun this weekend?” he asks as he empties his basin into the tub, pouring a cub of powdered detergent over it—the same type you use.
Leaning against your machine, you watch him from out of the corner of your eye, trying to silence your inner thoughts—at least enough to not let any of your unfounded suspiciousness leak into your voice. “Mh-no, not really. I just studied. What about you?”
He turns the machine on, smiling lazily while saying, “Nah…” then turns around, mirroring your leaning stance, standing shoulder to shoulder. “Though I heard one of the frathouses had a party…”
He tilts his head down, looking at you—friendly-faced, asking, “You didn’t go?”
You try to stop yourself, but you blanche despite the effort. Head hot, you fold your arms over your chest, hugging yourself a little.
There was a party? When? This weekend? How come… nobody told you?
You swallow, unable to look back at him—suddenly feeling a little bit sick.
“Uhm… no,” you say. “I didn’t feel up to it...”
His eyes slim at your obvious lie, but you don’t see it—now too wrapped up in your own embarrassment to pay attention.
His smile curls. You’re an open book if there ever was one.
But you don’t have to feel embarrassed. Of course, you didn’t go to the party. You didn’t even know there was one. And how could you? When he broke into your locker and took the invitation—just as he’s done with all the other party fliers every single week.
“Not your thing?” he says, trying to hold back his glee.
You still don’t look at him—too chagrined—looking like you want to dig a hole and bury yourself in it. “I guess so…”
Oh, he could just lick that expression right off your cute little face.
“Not mine either,” he chuckles, rummaging through the bag at his hip, pulling out a book, and flashing the cover to you with a grin. “I’m more of a book club type of guy.”
You blink. Reading the title with big round eyes.
“Have you joined one yet?”
You look at him then, shaking your head, “Oh, no—uhm, I couldn’t decide…”
He hands you the book. You receive it in both hands. Your fingers brushing each other.
“You should join us then,” he offers. “You’re gonna get burned out if all you read is textbooks, y'know?”
He watches your eyes widen—looking like a peasant, beholding him as a saint who’s just offered you shelter from the storm.
“Thank you...”
♡ BNHA – Deku, Shinso ♡ JJK – Geto, Gojo, Megumi, Yuuta ♡ HQ – Sugawara, Kuro ♡ CSM – Aki, Yoshida ♡ AOT – Armin ♡ DS – Tomioka, Tanjiro, Zenitsu ♡ HxH – Kurapika, Leorio ♡ WB – Suo, Togame
♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist
#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere x you#yandere imagines#male yandere x reader#yandere smut#yancore#smut#yandere insert#yandere original character#yandere oc#yandere male#male yandere#yandere my hero academia#yandere boku no hero academia#boku no hero academia smut#mha smut#yandere mha#yandere bnha#my hero smut#my hero academia smut#bnha smut#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere jjk#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut
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Honestly, there’s a lot of instances of the game where Jimmy’s intense rewriting of history really shows how delusional he is. And I don’t think these manifest from guilt, but from a victim-martyr complex: a lot of these are used to make himself look good to the audience, but the utter dissonance between these visions and reality make it terrifying instead.
1. The Birthday Party scene
It seems like something obviously scary, but it’s actually what Jimmy thinks his crew should do. He wants to be celebrated, wants to be admired, and up until he dies is still convinced he was just a well meaning guy who did his best. The party was not a guilt and fear ridden hallucination, but Jimmy deluding himself into thinking he’s the hero. His team should be thanking him and throwing him a party, even when they’re all dead by his own actions. In reality: there probably isn’t even any balloons or confetti, and all Curly sees is Jimmy and the rest of the corpses of the crew sitting at an empty table in a dark room.
2. Curly in the Chair attached to Wheels
The scene where Curly is attached to wheels that must be turned for his organs to sit right so you can feed him his leg is also a good example. This isn’t how bodies work, and Curly is a burn victim, so his internal organs being rearranged makes no actual sense; all of his health issues are external. No, this is what Jimmy thinks must happen; that Curly simply can’t keep down his food, and that all Jimmy needs to do is try harder to get him to eat it. Jimmy, in reality is probably just forcibly feeding Curly his own puked up leg chunk over and over again until Curly grows too tired to fight. And isn’t it like Jimmy to shove a square peg in a round hole and insist it’s the hole’s fault? Jimmy already has shown he’s perfectly fine with force feeding Curly already and is not afraid to get violent when doing so. The reality of that situation is that Curly was probably resisting as much as he physically could, but eventually grows too tired of the abuse and just gives in.
3. Swansea with an axe
And with Swansea, the entire sequence of Swansea chasing him around with an axe may be partially true, but a lot less even-sided in reality. Swansea was shown to have a temper, but killing Daisuke was horribly difficult and emotionally crushing, even if he wouldn’t admit it outright. Jimmy on the other hand clearly views Swansea as an axe wielding maniac who kills without remorse and wants to hoard the cryotank all to himself. I think Jimmy was hallucinating Swansea chasing him around, because I think it would be in character for Jimmy to witness Daisuke’s death at Swansea’s hands and, rather than think over his actions, instead become paranoid and fearful that Swansea would target him, too.
Cus think about it: while Swansea is bigger, he’s also a drunken old man whose grieving the loss of a kid he viewed like his own, while Jimmy is a comparar healthy younger man with a gun. Jimmy already has a track record for picking on those he sees as vulnerable (Anya being the only woman with her room not having a lock, Daisuke being the youngest and easy to influence, and Curly being physically disabled and unable to fight back). What’s more likely: that Swansea suddenly goes from sullen and mournful to an axe wielding maniac gunning for Jimmy’s blood, or that Jimmy is paranoid about an older grieving man and holds him at gunpoint to tie him to the chair?
Feel free to add more examples, this is fascinating
#mouthwashing#mouthwashing jimmy#jimmy mouthwashing#analysis#mouthwashing analysis#swansea mouthwashing#curly mouthwashing#anya mouthwashing#daisuke mouthwashing#they could never make me like you Jimmy
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[Dance with The Devil] [movie!Shadow x reader headcanons]
Summary: a collection of random headcanons/small scenarios based on my "Click Click Boom" post for Shadow!
Word count: 1.5k
Disclaimer (1): Harkness scale people, he is of age and can consent and is sentient. I'm allowed to want to kiss the hedgehog.
Disclaimer (2): This can be read as Romantic or Platonic! Though I did write it to be implied romance.
A/N: Yall asked for more, who am I to deny the people (I imagine kissing him every second of the day). I tried to hit a lot of asks all in one to give eveyrone what they asked for! I hope y'all enjoy! Reblogs and comments are super appreciated and motivate me to write more <3
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Shadow is so extremely overprotective of you, borderline to an unhealthy agree but is it really when you're welcoming to it??
You, by all means, shouldn't encourage him. He's one of the strongest beings on the planet. He can't just make threats, God knows if he'll act out on them.
You can't help but let it happen though, a warm fuzzy feeling deep in your chest clouds your judgment for a few moments. Knowing that Shadow sees you as someone worth protecting, of caring for.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Shadow baring his fangs at Sonic and fucking growling is new though.
"Shadow did you just- did you just fucking growl?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Sonic was just trying to hug me dude, relax.'
"He'll get his scent all over you. No."
Shadow turns his back on you, so he misses the blush that overtakes your entire face.
He has an inkling though, if the strangled cry from your throat is any indication.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Riding ! With ! Him !!! He takes you on drives all the time, it helps him clear his head and it's his way of asking for physical contact without giving you idea, feeling you against his back and your body pressed up against his does wonder for his mental health, he'll purposefully take longer routes and side roads at night to keep you close.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
If you fall asleep on the couch, Shadow isn't gonna curl up with you, but he's next to the couch, head propped up against the arm rest as he watches over you. He's well aware he could just teleport you both to your room, but you look too peaceful :( and he knows he takes up all your time and energy, so he rather let you rest.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Shadow always walks behind you. It's a nervous habit. If he wanders behind, he has the perfect view to scan for threats.
You go to tell him he's being paranoid, but stop yourself. The last person he cared for died, the girl who gave him a purpose. You shut your joke down fast, shaking your head when Shadow raises an eye bridge at your expression.
"Do you want to hold my hand?" You go with that instead.
"Absolutely not."
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Please god can you imagine shopping for him, getting his leather jackets and what not bc he fucking deserves it, especially when you nervously claim that he needs the correct gear for riding his motorcycle and he hits you with:
"That's useless, I can easily chaos control if need be."
BUT HE DOESN'T RIDE WITHOUT IT EVER !!!! You even got it monogrammed, and he runs his thumb across it often, scoffing at himself when he realizes, snatching his hand away.
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Shadow likes to be useful, even though you tell him again and again that he doesn't owe you anything, he doesn't listen.
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If you wear makeup and ever fall asleep in it, you can't ever seem to remember if it was you who took it off, your memories jumbling up together to the point you're not sure.
It was Shadow, he knows you don't like showing others your bare face, which he thinks is ridiculous as shit, he likes you as you are, whether with makeup or bare, you're you.
Please I could cry imagining him so gently taking a makeup wipe and rubbing small circles to get that waterproof eyeliner off of you, eyes laser focused into his task. I'm gonna throw up.
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In the colder months, he's susceptible to being more mellow and relaxed. Despite being the ultimate life form and having fur, he still gets cold and hates the feeling.
This brings me to the fact that bro steals your blankets, he has no remorse and will walk right into your room to take your heated blanket. He's an asshole.
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Fully believes that nicknames are stupid and that they don't matter, the best he's gonna do for you is call you by your first Intial (ex: Teddy = T) It's rare that he'll do call you by it regardless, but beggers cannot be choosers.
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Getting matching bangles to match his inhibitor rings!! Makes him go stupid for a second, brain computing that oh??? You want to match him?? He's gonna tease you, but when you threaten to just take them off, he immediately goes quiet.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
The subject of being sick came up often in asks, and he struggles really hard with it. It's not obvious, but if you look closely, his quills are pin straight, and he's easily more agitated.
He's not mad at you, it's not your fault, it's just that seeing you curl up into bed brings back so many bad memories of when Maria has flare ups and couldn't leave her bed.
It made him feel useless. His whole reason for being was to help cure illness, maybe not the common cold. He's aware of that, but the point remains.
Shadow gets more docile, even going to ask Maddie what to do. The woman offers to come over and take care of you instead, but Shadow shuts her down quickly. He's more than capable, and he's a little overprotective.
"Are you sure? I don't mind, I don't have anything going on."
"That isn't necessary."
"But it might be better if it's m-"
"I can take care of them."
It's hard to argue with a 5ft hedgehog that can easily snap your neck, so she regents and hands him over some cold and flu medicine along with painkillers and vaporub and instructions. He looks so silly with all of it in his arms, Gatorade, water, the medicine, some food, but it warms your heart. You haven't had anyone really look after you when you were sick, always left to fend for yourself, so it's nice.
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For my period havers, I am on mine, so this made it in:
Shadow using his hands as personal heating pads for your stomach or the small of your back, you can't seem to remember where you put your heating pad so he sits there with you and just, shoves his hand onto your skin, it's added comfort due to his fur.
"Oh my god, that feels good."
You groan into your pillow, curling up into a ball, your back facing the ultimate lifeform.
"Is it really that bad?"
Shadow hums, moving to ever so slightly knead the skin, smirking to himself when you damn near moan at the feeling.
"You know damn fucking well it's that bad."
Shadow snorts.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Once you're both closer, he allows you to touch him alot more, so long as you ask him first if you can run your fingers over his quills, he finds it soothing, it's common to find you both on the couch, fast asleep together with the TV set to come true crime YouTube video.
Sonic takes a million pictures, to which he sends to Shadow later. The black hedgehog doesn't say anything, but he secretly saves each one.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Speaking of the others, you try and force him to spend time with team Sonic to varying degrees of success. Mainly the success being if you will also be there and be by his side. The team likes you well enough, always playfully telling you that they can handle Shadow if he ever hurts you.
Which gets them Shadow staring them down, his eyes lighting up as a warning.
You'd think they'd learn that this man doesn't play when it comes to you, but they're a bit stupid.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
When it comes to any insecurities you may have, he shuts that shit down IMMEDIATELY, you think it's because he genuinely doesn't give a fuck, but no, it's because he cares about you and will logically tell you facts. Does it help? It's varying, but he still tries.
Issue with your weight. He doesn't care. Are you healthy? That's all that matters. He's strong enough to lift you up, and he'll demonstrate it on you if need be. He doesn't know who put it into your head that there's any issue with it, but he'll fix it.
"Shadow, can I ask you something?"
"Go on."
"Does my weight ever bother you?"
"I am not like human men."
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
You're insecure about talking about your interests/hyperfixations? He actively will sit down and listen, eyes intense as he takes in every single word you're saying. He'll nod and hum, but his ears are flicked towards you, and Shadow will ask questions pertaining about the characters.
The motherfucker is healing you slowly but surely, mentally and sometimes physically.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
No one thinks that Shadow would be a good companion and will make jokes offhandily that they're sorry that YOU'RE stuck with him, and you don't correct them. They don't deserve to know him.
They don't get to know how the lifeform curls up next to you on his bad days, seeking your affection.
The hedgehog who helps you dry the dishes after every meal with a way too focused look on his face.
The Shadow that always cracks dry ass jokes in hopes to make you smile after a long day.
It's your little secret, and it's one you gladly keep to yourself.
"Oh, he's stuck with me." You wave them off with a smug smirk on your face.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
#teddy loves shadow ☆#shadow the hedgehog x reader#shadow x reader#shadow the hedgehog#sonic 3#sonic 3 x reader#sega#sonic the hedgehog#sonic#shadow#sonic the hedgehog x reader
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I seriously hope you can job hop to something else cause you're not chaotic neutral man.
You're still a white Canadian whose actions and job help more the megacorps keep the status quo.
I really looked up to you but that's on me.
And yeah, I know security, cop shit and military pay good money but at the cost of my people? Fuck no.
Listen. I feel you. But there's a lot of cold, power-tripping bastards in this line of work and if I stick where I am then they don't get to have that.
I'm not a cop. I am not beholden to the justice system. Sometimes I get contracted out to people who say shit like "addicts should be put down, if you see any crackheads drag them out" and I nod and say "yes sir", and then I take their money and use it to buy those people coffee and a sandwich and tell 'em when free lunch days are at the church.
Boss sees me walking with someone and thinks I'm kicking them out, gives my boss great reviews. I'm having a great conversation with Connie, who used to by a stylist and wound up on the street after an accident that left her with chronic pain and a heroin addiction. Connie learns that there's a gap between two property lines nearby where technically nobody can call to have her removed.
There's a really sweet guy in town who's normally very nice, but sometimes flies into paranoid rage and yells slurs at people. Sometimes he forgets he's been banned from places and wanders in looking for a wife he hasn't had for nine years. Owner sends me to kick him out, and I ask "hey Mike, how are you?" And see where we are today.
One time there was a guy whose abusive ex kept following him to work, and I got to walk him to his car at the end of every day to make sure she couldn't get him alone.
Another person had a stalker who kept asking receptionists when she was gonna be there, when she was supposed to leave, if she was in today. I'd keep record of every time he came in, every time someone saw him, every time he violated his restraining order or damaged her things.
And when I wonder if I'm actually helping or not, or if I'm part of the greater problem, I remember that other people who work with me call homeless people wildlife and talk about how bad they wanna get an excuse to fight someone and I remember that I'm the one who knows where the blind spots on the cameras are, and thank God it's not him.
My position is fundamentally different from that of the military or law enforcement. I don't *need* to be buddy-buddy with most of these dickheads- I don't *need* to send people into the justice system.
I do single-person foot patrol. Nobody cares how I get the job done. They say, "Hey, faceless goon number three- make that bastard disappear" and I say "on it, boss" and give him tickets to disney world.
I once asked another guard if he knew that one of our regulars used to be an airplane technician. He said, "No, I don't talk to them". Blanket "Them". "Them" as in street people. "Them" as in addicts, or shoplifters, or ex-cons, or sex workers.
I asked why, and he told me, "it's easier if you don't think of them as people."
Anyhow, now I get calls to "watch that sketchy lady who just came in" and I say, "yes, sir" and leave her the fuck alone, 'cause that's Jolene, and people always think she's on drugs and aggressive but she's just deaf in one ear and slurs cause she has brain damage, you dickhead
so yeah, don't worry, I've spent a lot of time weighing the pros and cons of my vocation, and I still think I'd rather be in charge of my locations than someone like Darryl, who dreams of "cuffing a perp" and drives a car with Punisher decals on the hood
Also it's minimum wage but that's kinda tangential
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A snip i need to get out of my head before bed. (Warnings pregnant reader, not proofed read, I'm so fucking tired)
Poly 141 x pregnant reader.
When you told the boys that you were pregnant, many many emotions but not one was negative towards you.
Johnny was excited, immediately thinking of names and happy that they almost have enough people for a football team (john thinks rugby would be a better sport but who is asking).
Simon who is immediately nervous due to his own family issues, he knows therapy can help with this but he'll be damn if he is ever like his father.
Kyle who is immediately thinking why it is important to know who the father is, even if he isn't the bio dad he is still gonna buy the proper hair products just in case.
John who is already crying, he is a big papa bear now and he couldn't be more happy.
Over the course of your pregnancy, the boys are literally waiting hand and foot for you.
Simon refuses to let you do anything on your own. You want to help with the nursery? No sit down and rest. You need to bend down and grab something you dropped? Nah call him even if he is at work.
John is up your ass about you doing exercises and taking your prenatal vitamins. He wakes you up at eight in the morning to do a light work out for your core muscle then makes you wind down for bed by 9 pm.
Johnny is always ready to make a snack run, even if John is against it, hell he even got back up emergency snacks in the car. Even though you all share an Alaskan king bed, reach over and shove him awake so he can do a quick errand.
Kyle is always with you when you are shopping, 100% he will agree with you on any clothing for the baby, you want the cutest expensive baby towel that is good for eczema? No problem. You think we should do cloth diapers? You're absolutely right, save nature.
When you have to get a body pillow/pregnancy pillow to support your stomach the boys are upset that they can't cuddle you without the pillow being in the way (or the little shit kicks them and it hurts you).
The boys love, LOVE it when you wear tight shirts, I mean look at that adorable bump and Jesus christ your breast have gotten so big.
Speaking of breast, Johnny is always looking at you like a kicked dog when you don't let him "help" you pump.
Please tell them when something hurts. Because these boys take everything too serious. When you started having braksion hicks, they were so paranoid. It got to a point where when you were in labor you didn't tell them untill they were 5 minutes apart. Which freaked them out, rushing you to the hospital.
The boys are 100% supportive of your birth plan, they really are.
But as soon as the contractions hit and they see your pained expression, they are immediately second guessing.
John is bluntly telling you to take the epidural.
Simon is rubbing your back telling you that there is no reward for having a natural birth.
But, you progress, practicing your breathing exercises, you've been training for this moment. You decided to bounce and roll on the yoga ball that was offered in the room, it help with the pressure.
Johnny is the one who has been trying to sneak you food, happy wife (or partner) happy life. But Kyle is nagging him how you cannot have food when you are close to labor (you're only 2 cm and it's been four hours).
Simon is encouraging you to sleep and rest, when you obviously can't Johnny is helping you recheck the diaper bag for the tenth time that night.
Kyle who is walking with you up and down the hall, purposely walking down the hall with the window where you can see the other newborns.
John who is now having panic attack, 'oh god I'm going to be a father'.
When it's finally time to start pushing, one of the nurses tries pushing out the others, thinking that John is the father. It wasn't untill your midwife told them to leave them be and that they can stay.
Simon and John who are holding your hands as you pushed, Johnny is playing with your hair to help distract you from the pain and Kyle is wiping your forehead.
When everyone hears the sharp cry that echoes in the room, the gasp is heard, when the newborn is placed on your chest, they can't help but shed a tear.
Simon and Johnny are telling you that you did an amazing job. Kyle is kissing your head, comforting your cries, John is watching the nurses every move with the newborn.
They all couldn't be more happier.
#poly 141#task force 141#141 x reader#task force 141 imagine#task force x reader#poly task force 141#johnny mactavish x reader#soap x reader#simon riley x reader#john price x reader#kyle gaz x reader#pregnant reader#fluff#cod imagine#cod x reader
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Into It ♥️ Part 1 of 3
Max Verstappen x Girlfriend!Reader
i'm into it, yeah, says she wanna fuck me later, girl i'm into it
the one in which you’re newly dating your gorgeous boyfriend, max verstappen, after months of pining and flirting. he’s the perfect gentleman, so romantic and treats you just right! now how do you tell him that you’re desperate for mad max to come out and rail ur insides without sounding like a freak 😚
Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut but this time with some plot lol, reader essentially is just trying whatever tactic she can to seduce her bf and make mad max come out in bed, size kink, dom/sub elements, 4k WC
PART TWO HERE ♥️ PART THREE HERE ♥️
You look up blissfully at your boyfriend, Max, from where you’re tucked into his side, his strong arm scooping you against him and keeping you warm. You’re rewatching an old classic, Shrek 2, as you wind down from your dinner plans with your friends earlier than evening. Lando and Daniel had joined as well, teasing you and Max mercilessly about how you two were finally together and that the whole F1 grid had been placing bets on when you would make it official.
You had flushed in a combination of embarrassment and giddiness, unable to hold back a matching laugh with Max who had looked over at you with an adoring gaze, his own heart warm with happiness about finally being able to call you his own. You two had run in the same Monaco circles for years - with him as a driver and you on the McLaren legal team. Though initially you only saw glimpses of him through paddock interviews or social media posts celebrating his multiple winning streaks, the two of you had become a lot closer the past couple years through his friendship with Daniel and Lando. Soon enough you were joining them at weekly Padel sessions, leading to you and Max exchanging funny cat memes or popping online to decimate him and Lando on a Call of Duty stream and then eventually onto deeper conversations, from his latest breakups with his model girlfriends or quiet ramblings with a bottle of wine outside a booming party about the pressures of demanding fathers.
Of course, tongues were wagging anytime you two were seen together - especially when Max had his first time in years being single for months before you had gotten together. You couldn’t deny that you had always thought the older Dutch man was incredibly handsome and funny, always full of interesting facts about niche topics, and you found his intensity and passion for his racing career so attractive, as a high powered professional yourself as a lawyer for a luxury car brand’s executive board. But you had always curbed any growing feelings you had for Max, paranoid that it would compromise the strong friendship you two had developed. Besides, given his affliction for dating vogue models, and his respectful gazes or polite touches compared to the much more flirtier ones from other drivers on the grid, you had never thought max considered you attractive.
But somehow, despite both your busy schedules, despite max being across the globe, you always ended up calling each other first to share sad, happy, or even just boring news. You had never once imagined that after winning his most recent championship the first person he came looking for in his celebrations that night was you, his face flushes from champagne and hugging you tightly, his eyes shining with warmth as he told you he couldn’t have won it without you and suddenly you could no longer deny the rapid palpitations of your heart when you looked up at him. And as he looked at you, thumb gently brushing across your cheeks, warm breaths mingling together as your faces drew closer, he couldn’t deny himself any longer either - Schat, all I’ve been thinking about is what I really wanted for my prize instead of this trophy. Can I kiss you now?
And the rest was history. Fast forward a few months and it’s still so surreal to call Max your boyfriend, you think, as you come back to the present, watching him fondly as he chuckles at the movie. Dating him has been a dream - he’s your first serious relationship, your standards too high to waste time with any of the subpar guys you had gone on first dates with before - and wow, did Max know exactly how to knock all of those standards out of the park. He would always drive and pick you up anywhere you wanted, in his sleek luxury cars that had pedestrians gawping, one large hand on your thigh and asking how your day had been. You had literally stopped taking your wallet out anymore as Max always slammed down his black Amex at any opportunity to pay for you - dinners, trips, jewellery and luxurious shopping sprees - and although the staunch feminist in you had initially disagreed you couldn’t help but feel so cared for, so looked after - knowing all you needed on a night out was one hand around his arm and the other clutching a pretty little Chanel purse he had picked up for you at last month’s race weekend, with a matching Dior lip gloss inside. If you were ever having a hard day at work he would always order your favourite foods straight to your apartment, where he would meet you and bitch and vent alongside you about whichever client had been giving you grief.
And my god, the sex - THE SEX with your man had been absolutely amazing. Considering the difference in your past number of relationships, max was keenly aware that he had a lot more experience than you and was so unbelievably sweet and patient - letting you take all the time you needed to go slow and work up the confidence gradually to ask for what you wanted for him. Your first time together had been incredibly romantic, a night at a private house he had booked out for the week on the Italian coastline. After a candlelit dinner and a bottle of wine you found yourself in his lap on the outdoor chaise, soft kisses turning more and more heated, max whispering are you sure, liefje? If you’re not ready-
to which you had cut him off with another deep kiss, pleading for him to make you his once and for all ❤️ His eyes had flickered with a deep intensity at your possessive statement before softening out to adoration again as he gently unlaced your dress and trailed kisses down your body, worshipping you. you’d both cum embarrassingly faster than you’d have liked, high off the feeling of one another, max cleanly finishing inside a condom he threw away before carrying you in his arms to the bedroom inside. Since then, you’d both figured out you had a combined very high sex drive, using every opportunity in your schedules to make love, max never hesitating to always make sure you came first, either on his fingers, tongue or cock. You had the perfect boyfriend. Truly. You couldn’t ask for anything more, yet -
- yet, here you were, feeling like an absolute bitch about the recurrent thoughts that had planted in your mind as you watched max come out of the bathroom freshly showered, getting ready for bed after finishing a gaming stream with his mates following your Shrek 2 viewing. The issue was that your boyfriend - your incredibly hot, sexy, tall Dutch boyfriend - was so stupidly enticing but so oblivious that he has no idea what he did to you. You bit your lip as you looked at him, hair dripping wet, distractingly saying something to you while texting on his phone - but your mind was only fixed on how big and strong Max looked. Your boyfriend was much bigger than you, almost towering over you at 6”1 with your 5”1 frame. His athletic training currently during the season meant he had been looking extra delectable lately, defined abs, thick muscular thighs and a broad shoulder and back that narrowed down to a narrow (or as Lando joked, slutty) waist, highlighted now by the grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips that did nothing to hide the sizeable bulge in between his legs. It was undeniable that he was packing, to the point where you had called it his third leg after first seeing him naked, making him laugh but also take even more care everytime he entered you - you were a lot smaller than his previous partners, after all. He always made sure his pace was gentle and slow, avoiding fully entering you too much in worry of causing you pain. Truly, your boyfriend was too sweet - everything he did was to avoid causing your any pain or distress - which is why you felt too embarrassed to ask him directly to be rougher with you when he was simply looking out for your comfort. It has been perfect for you initially, but now you felt more adjusted to his size, and each time you slept together you felt yourself becoming more and more desperate for Max to be just a little bit rougher, a little bit more controlling. What would he think when his usually sweet, happy go lucky girlfriend admitted she actually fantasised about him completely ruining her? So, of course, you being you - an ambitious feminist - have decided to hatch a conniving strategy to seduce your boyfriend into giving it to you just right!! 💕
Starting tonight - you had already planned to spend the night at Max’s, relaxing after the hectic work week you had both had. Often, you wore his comfortable hoodies that dwarfed you and smelt just like him as you cuddled in bed. Instead tonight you wore an angelic pink lace Agent Provocateur nightie, bows and all, pushing your cute tits up on display for him and complimenting your caramel skin perfectly. Enough to drive Max crazy, right? Sitting against the plush pillows, you had been reading one of your steamy dark romance novels - your latest outlet these days while you manifested getting some back breaking sex with Max - but of course had ended up distracted by the sight of your himbo boyfriend emerging from the shower.
-Schat? So what do you think? Max finally looked up from his phone, making you come back to reality and realize you hadn’t been answering his question. Max’s eyes widened seeing your pretty little form on his bed - he had never seen you wear an outfit like that in bed before. He cleared his throat, inconspicuously shifting his stance so you didn’t notice his hard on at the sight of you when you hastily stumbled to reply - Oh sorry maxie, I missed what you were saying, just a bit tired after today
Max immediately came to your side in bed, looking guilty. Of course Schat, sorry, I’m keeping you up with my gaming stream aren’t I? You had such a long week already, we can go straight to bed now. You cursed your own slip up - of course, your sweet Max would put your comfort first over what you were sure looked like mission successful given the rapid hardening of his bulge you had zoned in on.
You try again as Max dims the bedside lamps, taking your book gently away from your hands and setting it to the side. You lean softly in next to him, fluttering your eyelashes up at him, tits right up against his hard biceps so that your breasts are basically cushioning his arm right in between them. Your nightie rises up your legs, showcasing your soft, luscious thighs for him. Max smiles lovingly at you, cradling your face before peppering your cheeks with baby kisses. You look so pretty, sweetheart. So sweet to wait for me before falling asleep, mein Schat.
You lean in further, lips pouting in an effort your boyfriend would finally catch the hint but instead you found yourself gently maneouvered and tucked into his side, his large hands rubbing soothing circles along your back as he placed a final kiss on your forehead. Goodnight, darling. Your eye twitched at his definitive words, perplexed at how your plan had been so unsuccessful, but you sighed and wished goodnight to Max, falling asleep and already plotting for another day.
A couple of weeks later you decided to up the ante. A sexy, bold crimson red lingerie teddy set, practically see through and showcasing your tan nipples through the lace and mesh, and a pathetic excuse of some lacy red panties to match. You smirked as you eyed yourself in the mirror - sure, it was quite a forward look, but you had found yourself becoming increasingly more desperate for your boyfriend’s attentions after attending his Monaco race today. You did your best to attend the races you could but with your own demanding schedule often struggled to make it, so were very excited to support your boyfriend this time - especially as you had been keeping track of how this season was difficult compared to earlier years given the poorer quality of the RB car. Your eyes had widened at seeing the events this weekend - a string of bad luck events. First, his engine had stalled during free practise, making him lose precious practise time, and then a red flag had been called as he was finishing an almost perfect qualifying lap, ruining his chances of pole, and finally during the actual race he was clipped on the side by one of the Aston Martin’s, making him spin out but still incredibly go on to get P2. It was amazing result given everything, but what caught your attention was a side of your boyfriend you had only every heard whispers about emerge on the track. In the past, you had only attended races he had easily won, appearing calm and collected throughout the weekends as he cruised to P1 - easily overpowering everyone else. Today though - Mad Max, his fans excitedly cheered and paddock staff gossiped, Mad Max is finally back!! In his villain era!!
And your Max was indeed seething at everyone - competitors, his strategy team, the stewards for not giving Aston Martin a penalty - and you had listened in on the radio to hear him angrily swear and yell to his engineer, seen him aggressively overtake and defend his place on the track, and finally seen the stormy expression on his face as he emerged out of his car, clearly pissed with narrowed eyes as he stalked off to his driver room without a word, not even sparing a glance at you or anyone else. Sure, you should have felt a little hurt that he hadn’t noticed you or seen the perfectly planned designer outfit you had arrived wearing, sending the paparazzi into a flurry, but you completely understood that his career was first on the line today and he needed some time to cool off. And honestly, instead of feeling bad for Max - the sick, twisted part of you couldn’t deny that he had looked sooo sexy completely dominating on the track, authoritatively giving orders over the radio and confidently outmanoeuvring his rivals. You had to catch yourself from biting your lip or squeezing your legs together as his rough accented tones got more and more angry throughout the race over your headphones, imaging what it would be like to be pinned down by his strong arms, to have him lean down behind you and whisper naughty things in your ear, to ask if you liked being a dirty little-
“Oh! Y/N! Can we get a quick word?” The sky sports reporters interruption hastily put an end to the illicit thoughts you had been having. Quickly trying to school your expression into something much more PR friendly, you flashed a dazzling smile, “Of course!”. As expected they tried to rile responses out of you to condemn Max’s aggressive performance. But you had stood for none of it, honestly and clearly stating that your boyfriend had driven very capably and fairly given the circumstances and you were extremely impressed with his performance. “He’s a triple world champion after all. Did you just expect him to roll over and not defend his title? If you don’t agree with it then no need to watch it. At the end of the day he’s the one driving the car over the finish line while everyone else is speculating hypotheticals.” The reporters thank you for your input, stumbling for words at your strong defence of your boyfriend. You wandered off before they could say more, catching up with Max a couple hours later when he had debriefed and collected his trophy, looking a lot more chilled out than earlier.
Hey, Schatje he mumbled gently, leaning down to kiss you on the lips after pulling you from a conversation with the other WAGs. Max! you had exclaimed brightly, congratulating him on his win and letting him know just how proud you were of him. You knew he would be tired - we could go to the red bull celebration yacht party for 30min, show our faces, and then play hooky back to ours? I already put in a dinner order for your favourite lamb kebabs.
Max smiled down at you - you knew him so well, always knew what to say and when he wanted to relax. Sounds amazing, Schat he voiced in agreement. Later, after eating dinner at home, Lando sent him a trending insta reel with the caption “Mate, she’s too good to you, you bagged a queen.” Max grinned, expecting some fanmade memes about you and him as he clicked the link (he has seen all the Queen Y/N and he’s just…Ken Max tweets already. You were a well liked figure on the paddock for years with your well mannered speech, excellent dress style and courteous relationships with most of the staff.)
He was suprised to instead see an interview post race of you defending him staunchly, shutting down any opportunity the reporters used to manipulate your words. He walked into his bedroom to find you conveniently waiting for him in bed again, nose buried in one of your romance models, and started laughing at how effective you were at putting the media clowns in their place. Thanks for sticking up for me always, liefje. You smiled back at him with pure adoration - of course Maxie, that’s the advantage of dating a lawyer, right?
He agreed enthusiastically, so caught up on now yapping about the race as he climbed into bed with you that he didn’t even notice the sexy little outfit you had planned just for him, covering you up with his soft duvet before you could properly twirl around and showcase it for him. Your eye twitched again as he yawned in between statements, grabbing your waist and bringing your back in against him, spooning you while his voice gently trailed off, falling asleep.
Meanwhile, your mind was running at 100 miles a minute, a scowl on your face. This was ridiculous, you had gotten all dressed up in an overpriced beautiful outfit just for your boyfriend to get distracted by a 3min interview you had done with an asshole reporter and then fall asleep instead of ravaging you?? You had tonight would be the perfect night, for you to be the one to support him for once, be the perfect outlet for his stress, to use you and manipulate your body for his own pleasure…heat pooled in your gut at your dark thoughts, and you grow wetter between your legs at the mental image of max having his way with you. Maybe it still wasn’t too late. Sighing gently, you closed your eyes, pretending to drift into sleep but moving your plump, barely covered ass behind you to gently grind up on your boyfriend’s cock, which was now rapidly hardening with your practised movements. You sensed Max had awakened when you felt his arms tighten around you, keeping you still in an effort to stop you from exciting him to much while you were still asleep and he couldn’t act on it.
Mmmhmm, maxie, feels so good~ you moaned, still keeping up the facade of having a wet dream, breathing getting heavier and pushing your tits against the edges of his fingers that were wrapped around your waist. You felt him exhale sharply as he came into contact with your hardened nipples, a smirk on your face. Your grinding had managed to push the duvet partially off, exposing your red lingerie in the moonlight - surely this would be enough to drive any man crazy!!
You heard him sigh behind you, shifting slightly and inadvertently pushing his cock against your skimpy underwear as he pressed a kiss to the back of your neck - and you had to hold back a squeal with how hard and big he felt against you, this was it, he was finally going to give in and fuck you awake while he thought you were having a wet dream, he could slide it right in, you were ready for it, for him, you were soo wet already just from imagining it, this was so hot-
Your fantasies are quickly shut down as max easily used his strength to turn you around so your face was buried into his chest again, your ass now devastatingly much too far away to get any action, and began rubbing your shoulders soothingly to get you to fall into a deep sleep again. You almost combusted at the action before deflating and accepting defeat once more. Your kind boyfriend of course would never toe the line of having sex with you in a dubious way were you were asleep. You wanted - no needed, to bring Mad Max out in your bedroom, and you were determined to do whatever it took.
Over the next few weeks you threw countless strategies Max’s way. Leaving your dirty romance books out in plain view, sometimes even opened up to a page right in the middle of a jaw dropping sex scene. Lacier and lacier bralettes and panties left everywhere to prompt him. “Accidentally” deleting his best SIM race time record on his rig. But nothing seemed to be working - max diligently tidyed up the stray underwear, reshelved the books, and generously forgave you for the SIM error before setting a new record later that night instead of fucking you angrily like you had planned. You got more frustrated as both your work schedules became busier, leaving you less time to connect with him. Fuck, last weekend - last weekend you had even thrown out all your boxes of condoms before jumping into Max’s arms when he had come home, laughing and eager to see you. One thing let to another and he was as eager to be inside you as you were to have him inside you, voicing It’s been too long Schat, I’ve missed your sweet body so much, so beautiful for me in between kisses as he reached for the bedstand drawer to grab a condom - only to find it empty. You pretended to have a confused look on your face (truly, you deserved an Oscar for your performance this past month) before oh so innocently suggesting Maxie, we- we don’t have to use one if you don’t want, I’m on the pill -
And there it was - a brief darkening of your boyfriends’ normally loving ice blue eyes, his sharp gaze on you at your suggestion of doing it raw for the first time - before he schooled his features back to normal and gave you a sweet kiss, It’s okay Schat, you’re too sweet, you don’t deserve to feel uncomfortable for my sake, I’ll just grab some from the corner store, da? He was off you before you could protest, promising he would be back soon as you blinked away tears of frustration and denial that yet again your plan had failed. When he finally entered you later that night, ever so gently, condom and all, you closed your eyes tight and imagined how each vein and ridge of his thick cock might feel when fully buried inside you to the hilt, if that goddamn condom broke, if he spilled all of his thick, creamy cum inside you, so much that it spurted out the sides, leaking everywhere, claiming you as his and no one else’s, making such a filthy, filthy mess-
- you came harder than you had the whole month, burying your face in Max’s shoulder to contain the scream that threatened to spill out. You sighed as you came down from your high. Fuck, you needed a drink.
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A/N: Follow along for Part 2 of this 3 part series to see if dear reader will finally manage to uncockblock herself and release Mad Max!! 😚😚
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