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euphemiaamillais · 9 months ago

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money, power, glory - coriolanus snow

on the night of your victory party, president snow decides that he wants a little more than a kiss from his victor—after all, don’t you ought to show your president just how patriotic you are?

cw: 18+//dub-con//age gap (reader is 18+)//abuse of power//mentions of exploitation//objectification//blowjobs//piv sex//coercion//loss of virginity//creampie//district 7 victor!reader and president!coryo

the party is all for you; the gaud and festivity, the fountains of alcohol, the ridiculously clad guests. you won, they tell you—but it’s a reminder of the children you killed as you fought tooth and claw in that arena. it feels wrong, to be put on display like this when twenty-three children lay dead in their districts. the celebration of murder—it’s as if you’re the prize animal at the circus.

you had been primped and preened by your stylist drusilla all afternoon, gritting your teeth as every part of your body was plucked and waxed, as she pulled your hair back into some elaborate hairstyle, the pins now digging into your scalp. that pain—the dull ache of it—ironically served as a reminder of the pain you had to endure in the games. you only survived because you slit the throat of that boy from two, watching the blood trickle out of his neck as you practically limped away.

you’d since been repaired, though many a time you felt that familiar ache in your ankle—the one that had been broken—and supposed it was punishment for the cruelty of your actions. but put twenty-four helpless children in an arena and ask them to fight to the death, and you learn that the ‘inherent goodness’ in human beings is nothing but a thin veil maintained by law and order.

‘enjoying the show?’ you hear the familiar, cut-glass voice of drusilla, who’s currently festooned in a garish purple gown covered in feathers—with a hairpiece to match.

you shrug, taking a sip of the expensive champagne, feeling the bubbles fizz down your throat as you swallow. it’s all so much, the noise, the people—as if you’re being smothered.

‘you’re being awfully quiet,’ she sighs, brushing your shoulder with her perfectly manicured hand. ‘isn’t there anything to tempt you?’

drusilla is more sympathetic than most in the capitol; she’d listened as you’d told her about your family back in seven, the trees that spanned for miles, how you often lay under their green blanket and daydreamed of a world beyond this one. but still, she would never understand what being a victor was like, there were scarce few in panem who did. many turned to morphling or alcohol upon their return home, and you’d heard horror stories whispered about victor’s being sold for certain services.

‘i’m just tired, that’s all,’ you murmur, reaching for another glass of champagne as a waiter walks past.

drusilla cocks a thin brow, a suspicious look glittering in her eyes. the throng of people is dizzying as you down your second champagne, but you feel your nerves ease, and pray that this night will become more bearable.

‘come, they all want to see you—their victor,’ she grins, pearly white teeth glistening under the golden light of the strings of lanterns.

you take her hand, and she pulls you through the crowd. it’s a vertigo-inducing sea of rainbow; hands clasping together in applause, rich cheers from their panted mouths. you feel your own lips twitch into a smile, but your eyes are somewhere else; far away from this. you can smell the soil back home, see the larks that fly through the trees that reach to the heavens. there’s a dreadful pang of homesickness thrumming in your heart.

and yet you cannot return home, not when they’re all watching you, waiting for the pretty victor to make a witty remark, or to make bids on who will get to have her first. you’re acutely aware that your pink dress is practically see-though, it’s gauzy fabric not leaving much to the eye. your feet ache from the heels they’ve put you in, and you know no matter how much they primp and preen at you, you’ll always be district. an outsider among those in wealthy excess.

among the throngs of people, you spot him—president snow. your breath catches between your lips. you’ve seen him before, obviously. his touch has always strayed a little too much when he’s been around you, but of course, you’d never say anything. you wonder how such a young man—he’s only 24 after all—rose to such power. nobody can deny how attractive he is, piercing blue eyes and platinum blonde curls. if he hadn’t put you in these games, maybe you’d even be persuaded to like him.

drusilla pushes you to him, and you stumble a little, the champagne causing a heady, floaty feeling in your body as you make an attempt to make yourself presentable. you hadn’t expect to be thrust towards him so soon, but the way he’s staring at you is as if he’s been expecting this.

‘don’t be so nervous, you look gorgeous,’ drusilla reminds you as you come to a halt before president snow.

he’s wearing one of his finely tailored suits; this one the crimson shade of red you’ve so often seen him wearing. you feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment, and feel the absence of drusilla’s hand from your back. when you crane your neck—only slightly, so as not to seem rude—she’s disappeared into the throng of brightly clad partygoers.

‘my favourite victor,’ president snow reaches for your hand and presses a kiss to it. his lips are strangely cold. not that you knew what to expect, but somehow it makes sense. his demeanour is like ice.

‘president snow,’ you lean back into curtsy, your bad ankle aching as you do so.

he smiles, icy eyes flickering over your form. he can practically make out your undergarments in that dress; they’re a shade of peach and of such a sheer satin that you can nearly see right through, but it leaves enough for the onlooker to be left wondering what lies underneath. your eyes follow him, and you clutch at your arms shyly, as if half of the capitol hasn’t seen you dressed so scantly.

‘shy tonight, are we?’ he inquires, edging close enough to you that you can make out the slight five o’clock shadow on his jaw.

‘i’m tired, that’s all,’ you mutter, flinching as one of his hands grips at your waist.

‘i would’ve thought you’d enjoy this spectacle, seeing as you made quite the circus out of the arena,’ he leaned in close to your ear, in what you assumed was an intimidation tactic. in spite of being hardened by the arena, deep down, president snow terrified you. ‘the way you killed that boy from two—brutal. but you made yourself the star of the capitol…’

his touch strays further, grasping at the thin fabric that surrounds your ass. one blonde brow arches in surprise, and his lips flicker into what you assume to be a smirk. if he was anyone else, you would’ve pushed him away, but he’s your president. one word and you’d be good as dead; and after enduring the games, you’d rather not come face-to-face with that sort of confrontation again.

‘how pretty,’ he muses, fingers tracing lightly against your form. ‘did you wear this just for me?’

your lips purse, but your body propels you to give a swift nod of your head. ‘do you like it?’

president snow smiles, eyes dancing at your quick wittedness. the girls he has are usually stupid whores who he pays to suck his cock—you, on the other hand, are a precious prize. intelligent, obviously, and startlingly beautiful. and you’re the first female victor since mags flannagan, not that he has any say over her because he was still crawling his way up under dr. gaul then.

‘oh yes, i think you know why,’ he drops the fabric, and takes a few steps away, a blasé look crossing his features.

he watches as your cheeks turn a pretty pink, and you cast your gaze to the ground. how charming; you feigning bashfulness. he’d seen you at your most primal, knife dragging along the jugular of that boy. you couldn’t charm your way out of this one.

the silence pierces the air, and you are prompted to speak—anything to change the topic. the stagnancy between you two has wrapped it’s suffocating arms around you—and you don’t want to choke.

‘i must thank you, president snow, for the festivities,’ you gesture to the ridiculous amount of decorations; the blaring music and the light show.

‘i’m glad you like it,’ he remarks, but his eyes are still trained on you. he wants something from you, and you’re not sure what. ‘i had to celebrate my favourite victor, after all.’

you stifle a scoff; his flattery is sickening. he’s never this charming among company. he’s cold, calculating—you can see it in his eyes, still, but he so obviously needs you wrapped around his little finger. and of course, you can’t resist. who would disobey their president, after all?

‘you flatter me, sir,’ he swallows thickly at the appellation. god, he’d love to hear you call him that as he bends you over one of his expensive armchairs. he wonders if you’d beg him to stop, or if you’d take it. he can’t figure out which type you are, just yet.

‘there’s nothing wrong with flattery, don’t you think?’ he is close to you again, breath fanning your cheek. ‘especially when it comes from your president.’

you feel your body freeze up. there’s something so intimidating about him, and although you want to outsmart him, the way he makes your knees buckle turns you into another one of those bumbling capitol fools.

‘now, if you’ll excuse me, sweetheart. i’ve got a few matters to attend to,’ he backs away, leaving in a flourish of red.

you have to blink a few times to register his absence, and reach for another glass of champagne as a waiter holds out a decadent tray to you. why not? you think, taking time to sip elegantly at this one. there’s no harm in imbibing if you have to make it through this hellish night.

—

drusilla taps you on the back as you’re shoving an expensive vol-au-vent past your painted lips. when you turn around, she’s shocked to see your mouth full of the pastry, cheeks rounded out as you attempt to swallow it. the hunger pangs had grown considerably, and when you finally gulped it down, the effects of the champagne made you giggle.

‘oh honey,’ she shakes her head, reaching for a pristine napkin to wipe at the flakes of pastry by your lips.

the night had drawn on, and you’d been left with an anxious feeling after your encounter with president snow. everytime somebody so much as brushes against you, your head had whipped around as you searched for a head of perfectly-set blonde curls and a crimson coat. to your luck, it had only ever been waiters, carting more champagne. you reckoned you were drunk enough now that you didn’t care how you acted.

let them think you were a fool, you’d be heading home tomorrow anyways.

‘how much have you had to drink?’ she inquires, and watches as you furrow your brows in thought.

‘six, no—seven glasses,’ you admit, and drusilla scolds you with a clucking tongue, her pink curls bobbing as she shakes her head.

‘president snow won’t be very happy with that,’ she remarks.

your mouth turns into a curious pout, watching as her face falters into some sort of cryptic, far-away look. you run the soft fabric of your dress through your fingers as you let the words settle. no, it doesn’t make sense.

‘why would he care?’ you asked, a little piqued by the thought that he’d even be remotely interested in whether you were sober or not.

drusilla’s purple lips are drawn into a thin line, and she bends in close as if she’s ready to tell you a secret. your throat’s gone dry, the anxiety prying at you with it’s cold hands.

‘look, sweetie,’ her golden tone is laced with a little condescension. ‘president snow won’t like that you’re drunk. it won’t make the situation ideal for him.’

your brows quirk into a look of confusion. situation? drusilla sees your loss of words and takes it upon herself to inform you of the events. how naive you are, that you’ve got no idea just what he wants with you.

‘you’ve been asked to stay the night at the mansion,’ her eyes flicker to search for any eavesdroppers, and then she continues. ‘look, i’m sorry if i didn’t tell you earlier, but he’s asked to keep quiet about it. what with the others being jealous—’

‘others?’ your voice falters.

‘well, sweetie, you know how desirable victors are. president snow just wants to make sure nobody else gets their hands on you. that’s why he’s keeping you here, under close guard.’ drusilla bites her lip, revealing that she’s worried for you. she didn’t have much of a choice in your fate, but if she could forewarn you, she would.

you understood now why he’d been so touchy before—clearly he was jealous that somebody was trying to get their hands on his precious victor.

you lose all your words, mouth opening, nothing spilling out. it feels like it’s been filled up with dirt; you can hardly speak. drusilla goes to strike your arm, but is prevented from doing so as she’s whisked away by some blue-haired man harping on about her latest designs. once again, you feel the pangs of loneliness.

you had to reconcile yourself to the fact that the rest of your life—however long that may be—would be a lonely existence. you’d spent the better part of the month on the train, zigzagging back and forth between the districts, reading off prewritten speeches as you had to face the families of the fallen. all those children—their children—dead.

every night, you’d taken those pills prescribed by the doctors, the ones that stopped you from waking up with your hand around your throat as you screamed. you slept a dreamless sleep, but it became hard to not depend on them. what would you do without them tonight?

—

the party draws on long into the night, and you grow bored and overwhelmed. as per drusilla’s advice, and also not wanting to wake up with a throbbing headache tomorrow morning, you resorted to drinking the assorted non-alcoholic beverages.

your head is pounding by one am, but the party doesn’t seem to cease by any means. deciding you’ve had enough, and that nobody would really miss you—after all, nobody’s even talked to you for at least two hours—you stumble your way across the marble steps of the mansion. you hazily remember drusilla telling you what door you were meant to enter by, and you find it manned by a singular avox.

without a word, they let you inside, and you trail tipsily after them up a velvet staircase. your ankles roll as you climb the steps, head spinning, but it doesn’t take long to reach your room. your feet are aching, and when the avox leaves you to your own company, you practically tear the shoes off your feet.

you lay back against the white sheets, revelling in the feeling of the thousand-count cotton brushing against your skin. you’d never felt anything like it, and could feel your eyes shutting as you relax into the plush sheets.

you awaken what seems like hours later, but only twenty minutes have passed on the alarm clock by the bed. the sound of footsteps can be heard outside your door, and you’re surprised you can make it out as the party still booms outside the vast windows of the mansion.

you sit up, heart racing, and head throbbing slightly. you’re groggy from the champagne, and the bubbly tipsiness has given way to the absolute misery of sobering up.

the door opens, a small sliver of light giving way to the shadowy figure that progresses into the room. you squint, unable to make out a face, but pray it’s not one of the men you’ve heard were making bids for the victor.

you sigh a breath of relief when you see president snow, not a hair out of place as he stands beside your bed. your dress is up around your thighs, and you can see his blue eyes dancing across your frame.

‘president snow,’ you murmur into the darkness.

you wondered who had turned off the light in the first place—your memory is hazy at best but you don’t remember flicking the switch. an avox must have come past while you were sleeping.

‘i see my favourite victor has taken some respite,’ he muses, one cold hand reaching out to stroke your thigh.

you flinch back reflexively, not used to the icy feeling against your skin. nor are you used to the prying hands of men. the most you’d ever done was kiss a boy, and even then, that was years ago, you weren’t even sure it counted.

‘sorry,’ you spit out, lips trembling with apology. he only laughs, hand still tracing your smooth skin.

‘no need to apologise. i’d rather you doze here than fall asleep on a bench where any of those men could lay a hand on you,’ he makes a sound of disgust, shaking his head at the thought. ‘i couldn’t let them spoil my pretty victor.’

you feel your cheeks warm—did he really think you were pretty? but you remembered who he was; in fact he was the very reason there were even any games at all. he could put a stop to all this if he wanted, and yet he didn’t. you couldn’t let him fool you with his charm.

‘it’s very thoughtful of you, president snow,’ you offer, not wanting to raise suspicion in him.

in the moonlight, you can see a smile flicker across his lips. his hand moved further up to the apex of your thigh, and your breath hitches. what was he doing?

‘do you like that?’ he murmurs, leaning in against your ear, breath hot.

you can’t think of what to say. your thighs tingle a little with the touch, but you don’t want him there. it’s wrong. he’s the president though, and how can you tell him no when he could have you killed?

‘you’re a quiet one, aren’t you?’ he mutters, but wanting to rouse a sound out of you, he moves his hand to press flush against your panties, thumb stroking the area where your clit is.

you let out a breathy gasp; the pleasant warmth flooding your belly. his brows quirk up at your quick response—you’re so willing. he wonders how far he can push you; of course he wants to have you no matter what, after all, it’s his right as president—but he wants to know how much of a whore you are under those pretty clothes.

he knew what district girls were like. lucy gray—though that name made him shudder—bent easily under his guidance. he hoped you’d do the same; obey him. he had more power now, six years after his stint as a mentor and then peacekeeper. he kept that to himself; everybody else simply thought he’d been struck down with a bad bout of the flu, when really he’d been uncovering rebel plots by day and by night was burying his cock deep inside of whatever district slut would have him.

‘please, president snow,’ you beg, head spinning as he rubs at your sensitive nub.

‘please what?’ he inquires, an undercurrent of menace in his voice.

‘i mean—are you sure we should be doing this?’ you furrow your brows with anxiety. ‘aren’t there men who want to pay you good money for this?’

you squeeze your legs together in the hopes that he’ll stop, but this only angers him and he uses his muscular hands to pry your thighs apart. you can’t deny him this; he wants it, and he’ll have it.

‘oh, they’re not going to get you. no, you’re far too precious for the likes of them,’ he shook his head in disbelief. ‘when i realised you were going to be sold to some scumbag who’s been divorced three times, well, i couldn’t let that happen.’

your mouth stretches into a perplexed pout, and you let out another soft moan as he rubs diligently at your clit. his other fingers brush over your red lace panties, and he sucks in a breath as he feels how soaked you are. surely you cannot deny him when you’re practically begging for it?

‘but…’ your lips tremble and you are almost deterred from saying what you want to by the scornful look painted across his noble features.

‘surely you don’t want me,’ you scramble to find an excuse.

‘why wouldn’t i? it’s not like you’re a girl anymore, hm? you’re nineteen, and ever so pretty,’ his other hand thumbs your cheek. you didn’t feel it, but you’d been crying. his thumb presses against a droplet.

‘please,’ you plead. ‘you wouldn’t enjoy it—i’m a virgin.’

he laughs, shaking his head at your stupidity. he hasn’t suspected it, what with the way you were dressed; the gown revealing far too much of your body to him—he could see the top of your nipples sticking out of the neckline.

‘oh no,’ he clucked his tongue. ‘then i simply must have you. how could let you i waste your virginity on any of those men when i could have you?’

you shake your head, body trembling as you feel yourself give way to his fingers, which were slowly bringing you to your pleasure. you clutch at the plush sheets and feel yourself gush, your panties growing even more damp.

he can’t believe it, how quickly you came. he wonders if you’d ever even touched yourself before. sure, you’d killed a boy, but you really knew very little about the world, and even less of men. it enthralled him.

his cock strained in his suit pants, and he let out a low grunt. you responded with a shocked look, but sighed as he stood up, letting go of your thighs. the way he’d touched you—it was scandalous. surely he’d be in a lot of trouble if anyone found out?

but your heart fell when you remembered that he was president. it’s not as if you were anything more than a hired whore who had to do her duty by him.

‘you’re going to be good for me, aren’t you?’ he called out, combing a hand over his perfectly styled hair.

your mouth went dry, but you stood up, wanting to be defiant, clawing for anything to make you seem like you had some sense of autonomy. it was a lost cause, however. you forgot how he towered over you now that your heels were discarded. you couldn’t face up against him.

‘i said, you’re going to be good for me, aren’t you?’ his voice was wrought with ire this time, and you nodded.

‘yes sir,’ you respond with a clear tone. you’re surprised you even managed it.

he reaches out to stroke your face again, sighing as your warm cheeks meet the cold pads of his fingers. you tremble a little, knees buckling in fear. anything could happen.

‘now, are you going to be a good girl and show your president how patriotic you are?’ he asks.

‘yes, mr president,’ you reply blankly. the name sends the blood straight to his cock.

‘then get on your fucking knees,’ he commands.

your head is spinning, but you somehow find your way to the ground, knees aching as you press them into the wooden floorboards. you hear the sound of something unzipping, and when you glance up, you come face to face with his cock.

he’s hard, and huge—not that you’ve ever seen one before—and he lets out a heavy grunt as he sees how pliant you are. he wants nothing more than to fuck that pretty little face of yours and watch how you gag around his length. he hasn’t known he was so big until he’d gotten to district 12 and the stupid district sluts kept choking on his cock. when he’d dressed in academy rouge he’d only ever known his own hand. but now, he knew what power he could exert with all eight inches of himself.

‘good girl,’ he strokes your chin, and when you open your mouth, he slides his thumb over your bottom lip.

your saliva coats his thumb, and you gag a little as he slides it to the back of your mouth. a small grin flickers across his lips; if you’re choking on his thumb, just imagine how bleary-eyed you’ll be as you gag around his cock.

‘god, i don’t want to think about what i would be missing out on if you’d died in that arena,’ he tuts at the thought, and slides his thumb out of your mouth, smearing your own saliva at the corner of your lips.

your lipstick is smudged now, and he’s determined to ruin it even more; perhaps even have your mascara running down your cheeks as you take his cock in your mouth.

‘when i’d heard that the victor was to be the eighteen year old girl from district 7, well, i knew i’d be able to have you. especially once i got a look at you, in your victory dress. did they make it that short on purpose? to make my cock hard?’ he laughs, reminiscing how he’d taken a whore that night that looked just like you, pretending it was you that he was fucking from behind.

you shiver, terrified by him, his words. they’re disgusting. the way he viewed you as something to exploit—and it can’t even be considered taboo because you’re nineteen, after all. if the president wants you, he’ll get you.

‘answer me!’ he scowls, tugging at your intricate hairstyle, which hurts because the pins holding it together were already poking at your scalp.

‘no,’ you murmur, because it’s the truth. you wore what they told you to, you didn’t think it was supposed to be for him.

‘no?’ he laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘well then, tonight at least—they must’ve known i wanted to have you. wasn’t going to let you get away from me this time.’

you swallow thickly, mouth agape in terror, knees trembling against the cool floor. you can feel the bruises forming on them; the dull ache of kneeling is humiliating.

finally, he presses his cock against your open mouth, a little pleased that it was hanging agape in shock, making it easier for him to slide it right in. you freeze, blinking back tears of mortification, but you can't say no, not when he's your president, not when there's that nagging ache in your core that makes you yearn for his fingers back against you.

you open wider, and he slides himself in, cock hitting the back of your throat instantly. you gag, the tears now dribbling foolishly down your cheeks, and president snow just laughs, the sound mottled with undertones of a soft groan. you wrap your lips around him, and move to bob your head up and down, but he grabs your hair and tugs it towards him.

you cry out, scalp stinging and mouth stuffed full to the brim with his cock. his grip tightens as he begins to thrust into your mouth, grunting as feels your saliva coat his length. he can't even fit himself all in, it's pathetic, but he'll help you learn in time how to deepthroat, so he can watch as your mascara runs while you beg him to push himself further down your throat. you'll become his personal fuckdoll.

'teeth,' he winces as he feels your top teeth make contact with the skin of his cock, and embarrassed, you make sure to push your top lip around them.

his lips stretch around a groan, forcing your nose to meet his pubic bone—the sound of your gags are delightful, and when his eyes flutter shut, you know he's enjoying it. he tosses his head back, cock throbbing as he forces it back and forth in your mouth. when his eyes open again, it's to the sight of your mascara running, thick black streaks painting your cheeks as you choke around him.

'so pretty,' he strokes your cheek, smearing the mascara even more. he wonders if you'll still be crying as he stretches you out, filling your cunt with his big cock. probably; he's forgotten how much whining virgins do.

feeling himself close, his thrusts grow more haggard, and you feel his balls slap against your chin as you attempt to breathe—through your nose, of course. his movements are suffocating, you're grasping at his hips, praying for it to be over—and then it is.

hot sticky spurts of cum slide right down your throat as he gives a loud moan, crying your name in praise. part of you—the part you revile—reddens at his praises, you want nothing more than to please your president. the other part of you tries not to gag as the pearly ropes of his cum slither achingly slow down your throat.

'good girl, swallowing it all—you'd do anything for your president, wouldn't you?' he coos, pulling his cock out of your mouth.

your lips ache, and you're sure the back of your throat is blooming purple with a bruise; but you nod, eyes all fucked out because your cunt is dripping wet, all for him.

'well, i really only want one more thing from my victor...' his voice trails off, lips pursing. you can see the desire in his eyes, icy gaze dripping with lecherous intent.

and yet, you cannot deny the fact that he had already made you cum once, that your body is begging for him. you hate it. you want to scream—if only you weren't so tired and your mouth didn't ache so sorely.

'how about you lay back in the bed, hm?' his voice is soft, laced now with the sweet tone he uses to charm the wives of senators and the little girls that give him roses.

you oblige blindly, and rise, knees black and blue, legs trembling, but somehow you find yourself laid back against the plush sheets once again.

‘can’t believe nobody else has had you,’ he murmurs, removing his shoes carefully, and then undoing his suit. it’s brand new, and he doesn’t want to spoil it.

when he’s undressed to his boxers, you can’t help but admire his form. he’s well-toned, biceps muscular, the slight formation of abs on his stomach, and you can see his cock has once again hardened. you press your thighs together in want, and he watches as you gaze at him, half-terrified, eyes blown wide, and yet half-wanton, body beckoning him to take you and make you his.

‘god, you’re so pretty,’ he muses, crawling across the bed and placing his arms either side of you.

you shiver, suddenly feeling brushed with cold, perhaps it’s from him. how fitting, you think, that his name and touch are both reminiscent of the cold. you can feel his hard cock pressing against your thigh, a reminder of your helplessness in this situation. the way he’s going to do whatever he wants with you.

he slides his fingers under the straps of your dress, forcing it down your arms. you lie still as a stone, letting him slide the dress down your body, exposing your breasts, watching him sigh as your nipples respond to the frigid temperature radiating from his body.

he takes one breast in his mouth, laving at your nipple until it hardens under his tongue. your hands are urging you to clutch at his perfectly styled hair, but you cannot move; the tears are brimming in your eyes and you’re not sure if they’re out of shame that he’s touching you, or shame that your body is so pliant to his touch.

he pushes the dress down further, and gets on his knees until he’s completely stripped you of it. there you lay, among the pristinely white sheets, the party alive outside of your window; completely bare besides your panties. your skin is pocked with goosebumps as he runs his hands over your bare stomach, fingers latching at the waistband of your panties.

‘god, are you wet for me?’ he chuckled as he removes your soaked panties—still evidence that he’d managed to make you cum.

you are unresponsive until he gives your skin a pinch between his slender fingers, and a soft yelp escapes your lips.

‘talk to me,’ he commands, though there’s an undertone of begging. not that the president should ever have to beg. ‘i can’t have my pretty victor keeping silent, especially not while i fuck her. i want to hear the sweet sounds that are going to come from your lips.’

you give a nod, eyes flickering to glance at the ceiling, watching as the hazy lights from outside dance upon the ornate eaves. one of his hands touches your cheek, the chill bringing you back to meet his gaze.

‘gonna make you mine,’ he groans, reaching down to palm at his cock through his boxers.

you push away the tears at your eyes, and your hands go down to clutch at the sheets. you’re still a little floaty from the champagne, but it can’t seem to take you away from what is occurring right before your eyes.

'look at me!' he snaps, hard cock now pressing against the inside of your thighs.

'sorry,' you manage to get out, lips trembling as you brace yourself—he's big... too big.

'fuck, can't believe i get to have you all for myself...but i suppose it's the least i deserve as president,' a soft laugh plays upon his lips, the sound soon mottled by a low moan.

he eases the tip into your hole, sighing at your tightness. your eyes flutter shut, but strangely, your core only tingles as he slides himself into you. it's the ultimate betrayal—your body is yielding to him, growing wetter as he sheathes himself completely inside of you; at least, most of his eight inches.

'so fucking wet,' he grins devilishly, beginning to buck his hips gently.

you look so angelic, hair sprawled out on the pillow like a halo, the soft lights from the party glowing against your skin. coriolanus wants to take it slow, in spite of how much his cock is throbbing, because you are his prize—he must relish you. he can't let your virginity go to waste, after all. half the capitol has been vying for it, and now he is the one to take it. he imagines the disgruntled looks on the faces of the men who had bid for you when he informs them that you've been spoiled—and if any of them complained, well, he's the president. he could see to their... accidental deaths.

as he stretches out your tight walls, a pretty moan escapes your lips, by accident, but he takes this as a sign that you are surrendering yourself to him. coriolanus smiles a little to himself, and fastens the pace slightly, grunting as your body opens itself to his caresses.

‘you like that, hm?’ he inquires, one cold hand moving down to rub your clitoris.

you let out another gasp, this time of shock and pleasure, as his thumb presses against your sensitive nub. his eyes dance with delight as you come apart under him, your cunt growing slicker by the second. you’re so beautiful, and he glances down at the part where you two meet—his big cock stretching out your tight walls. a milky ring of your arousal coats his shaft, only driving him more lustful as he fucks you.

‘president snow…’ you cry out, trying to shove his hand away.

you can see the ire returning to his eyes, and when he presses down on your clit harder you stop and allow your body to relax. you realise it’s fruitless to try and fend him off anymore—he’s making you feel good, after all. but that’s the terrible part of it, the fact that you can feel waves of pleasure washing over you again. he’s smiling sickly, groaning as he ruts into you with grunts.

‘you're so fucking tight,’ he moans, watching you moan with pleasure as his fingers bring you to climax.

‘so good…’ you say, barely above a whisper, but the knowing look he cast you makes you admit it—after all, perhaps he’ll be kinder next time. let you decide when you want it.

‘yeah? you like the way my big cock is filling you out? how your president is reminding you who you belong to?’ he grunts, and you give a lazy nod.

the coil in your stomach comes unbound slowly as the combination of his cock stretching you out and his thumb rubbing diligent circles around your clit drives you over the edge. your toes curl sightly, arms moving up to grip at his back. you find the smooth, cold skin is surprisingly toned; hard muscles prominent under your touch.

you feel your pleasure peaking, body dancing with warmth and want. you try to stifle your moan by turning your head into the pillow, but his hand grasps your chin and pulls you back to meet his gaze.

‘don’t turn away from me!’ he scolds, brows knitting into a pained expression.

‘i’m sorry…’ you murmur, too ashamed to meet his gaze.

you feel a wave of pleasure wash over your body as his thumb coaxes another orgasm out of you—your second one for the evening. your cheeks fill with warmth as your arousal coats his cock, causing coriolanus to let out a breathy groan.

you pray that it ends soon, but your body continues to dance with pleasure and satisfaction, giving into him, allowing him to make his stake in you. his pretty little victor that he was deflowering—and she came around his cock and everything!

‘fuck,’ coriolanus grunts, hands travelling down to grab at the soft skin of your hips as he pounds into you. ‘all fucking mine. taking me so well…’

when you clench around him, he feels his balls tighten, and cock still for a moment as he reaches his own climax. you’re mewling so prettily—half-begging for him to stop by the way your head roles about in a dissociative reverie shows him that if your heart cannot be persuaded to take him, your body will.

‘shit,’ he spits as he slows his pace, dragging in and out of you at a painfully still speed.

he doesn’t want to finish so quickly, but you’re so fucking tight and your slick coating his cock has set his nerves on fire—his tip is throbbing with desire. coriolanus’ fingers are plunged into the supple skin of your hips, digging far enough that you feel a few bruises forming under the skin.

'so fucking tight,' he curses, sliding himself all the way out before filling you up to the hilt again. the sound of your wet cunt squelching around his big cock reverberates against the walls.

another moan escapes your plump lips, egging coriolanus on—clearly you're enjoying this to some extent; you've come twice tonight. next time he might not be so kind, after all, he's only being so sweet because you're a virgin—you're more like a prize to enjoy than anything else.

'gonna fill you up with my cum,' he sneers, eyes rolling shut as he pushes himself against your g-spot. you contract around him in response. 'you'd like that, wouldn't you? taking your president's cum? so patriotic, aren't you?'

the way he's still squeezing and pinching at your hips urges you to respond, so you cast a groggy nod—the champagne is still making your head swim.

'good girl,' he praises, and you respond with a genuine smile.

coriolanus grunts heavily, his balls tightening, and he feels hot spurts of cum spurt out from the tip of his cock. the relief that washes over him is blissful; watching you take every last drop of him makes him sigh deeply. you can't help but squirm at the sticky feeling as he thrusts his cum back up into you. you're trying not to lurch away in disgust—his hands, now clamping down on your shoulders, are keeping you there, close to him.

when he pulls out, he gazes at your weeping cunt in awe as his cum trickles down your thighs. you’ll always be his—he can see that by the tiny smudge of blood that also coats your inner thigh on one side. he doesn’t know if he can bear to sell you to those other men now; perhaps he’ll just have to lock you up here and keep you all to himself.

‘thank you, mr president,’ you murmur, half on the verge of sleep.

your body is humming with exhaustion, and you begin to curl up into a supine position, trying to force away the uncomfortable combination of his sticky cum and the dull ache between you thighs.

‘i’ll be back tomorrow,’ he presses a kiss to your forehead, smoothing a few tendrils of hair out of your half-closed eyes. ‘don’t think you can get away from me now, my pretty victor.’

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whenanafallsinlove · 4 months ago

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BNHA CHARACTERS X GN! READER; - how they would act with a foreign s/o headcanons﹗

﹗warnings: none, pure fluff! :D

a/n: not proof read! Sorry if it's a little repetitive! Requests are open if you want pt 2 with other characters or fandoms :D

includes: Katsuki Bakugou, Shoto Todoroki, Hanta Sero, Denki Kaminari

Katsuki Bakugou:

definitely learns how to cook typical foods from your country

calls you dumbass if you mess up a sentence in japanese

likes to correct your pronunciation and grammar

if you typically eat a lot of spicy foods in your country, you two will challenge each other on who eats the most spice

he likes when you speak in your language

he told you he wanted to learn your language with the excuse that it would make him a better hero

but he wants to learn it because he is just nosy

specially after hearing you saying his name during a call with your family, and not understanding what you told them about him

you told him that if he wanted to know, he would have to learn your language

he obviously takes that as a challenge and learns a lot very quickly (and he's unsurprisingly good too)

Shoto Todoroki:

would be eager to help you learn japanese

he would surprise you by learning your language too

asks you to cook your favorite typical meals for him to try

if you were feeling homesick, he would search online and buy you a bunch of your country’s typical candy

gets embarassed when you catch him listening to podcasts to learn your language

he's like super proud of having a foreign s/o

he will bring the fact that you're from another country every chance he gets

when he brings you to meet his family, he's mortified when his father asks something stupid/stereotypical about your country

when you started dating, one of the first things he asked you was the cultural differences when dating in your country

just to make sure you were on the same page, and also to take into account important gestures that would be meaningful for you

Sero Hanta:

he would compliment you and use pet names in your language

he watched a tik tok of “trying typical candy from my s/o’s country!” and immediately asked you to do it

starts to listen to music in your language!

often asks you to teach him some phrases in your language, but gets frustrated when he just can’t get a grasp on the pronunciation

duolingo is secretly his best friend

admires you for knowing more than one language

would buy anything related to your country and gift it to you,

he sees a postcard at the store with a photo from your country? he buys it; he sees a fridge magnet from your contry? he gets it; he sees a turism magazine with 'top 10 places to visit this year' and your country's name on it, he's already checking out with it

he just wants to make you feel at home with him too

constantly checks on you to make sure you're not homesick

Denki Kaminari:

asks you A LOT about your country, specially the differences between where you are from and where you live now

he’s like a kid, always grabbing random stuff and asking “how do call… in your country?”

begs you to teach him how to curse in you language

probably tries to learn how to dance to music from your country

when you facetime your family he likes to greet them with the three words you have taught him

celebrates your important national festivities with you

he starts to follow and watch entertainment content in your language, claiming he starts to understand it (he does not)

everytime you cook something from your country, he asks you to make some for him too

claims that your voice and personality change when you speak in your language

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #denki x reader #denki kaminari x reader #sero hanta x reader #sero x reader #shoto x reader #shoto todoroki x reader

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hoseokslefteyebrow · 4 months ago

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The Anomaly || JJK || Masterlist

summary : In which you're isekai'd from your (own) parallel Jujutsu Kaisen universe to the canon universe.

Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen X Reader, eventually Character x Reader (idk who yet tho)

A/N: Bonus chapters can be read by as a standalone.

Prologue

Chapter 1: Alone

Chapter 2: The Origin of Blind Obedience

Chapter 3: Accomplices

Chapter 4: Homesick

Chapter 5: It's Like That

Chapter 6: Evening Festival

Chapter 7: The Shibuya Incident

Chapter 8: Seance

Chapter 9: Flunctations

Chapter 10: Flunctations pt.2

Chapter 11: Thunderclap

Chapter 12: Right and Wrong

| Bonus Chapter: Nanami Kento

Chapter 13: Right and Wrong pt.2

| Bonus Chapter: Nobara Kugisaki

Chapter 14: Right and Wrong pt.3

Chapter 15: Metamorphosis

Chapter 16: Shibuya Incident: Gate Closed

Chapter 17: Death Sentence

Chapter 18: Tengen's Barrier

Chapter 19: A Plan

#idkeitherman #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #megumi fushiguro #nobara kugisaki #platonic jujutsu kaisen #yuji itadori #inumaki toge #maki zenin #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk x you #ryomen sukuna

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pedrospatch · 11 months ago

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when i’m feeling alone, you remind me of home

Javier Peña x DEA Agent Female Reader

summary: Spending Christmas in Bogotá, Colombia isn’t ideal. Javier knows you’re missing home a little harder than usual, so he comes up with a plan to cheer you up.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. minor deviation from canon timeline (had to make it work), reader is an agent for the DEA, NO AGE SPECIED, NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION, reader understands and speaks spanish but no mention of her race or ethnicity, friends to lovers trope, reader celebrates christmas, reader has a good relationship with her family, minor smoking and alcohol consumption (both reader and javi), reader’s a bit rough around the edges sometimes. fluff, soft javi, he’s a bit of a grinch in the beginning though. switches in pov’s and tenses.

*ENGLISH TRANSLATIONS AT THE END.

word count: 2.9k

a/n: thank you to @hellishjoel for inviting me to join in on this fun project!

12 Days of Pedro Masterlist

Javier Peña doesn’t do Christmas.

He especially doesn’t do Christmas in Bogotá.

He doesn’t see the point even acknowledging it.

There are more important things on his mind.

Capturing Pablo Escobar.

Dismantling the dangerous Medellín Cartel.

Living long enough to tell the fucking tale.

Those were his priorities while in Colombia.

Not decking the halls with boughs of holly.

And yet, there he is, fighting with a string of bright and colorful lights, wishing these damn things would put themselves on the tree. “Puta madre,” Javi curses underneath his breath as he tries untangling them from around his waist. Somehow, he only makes it worse. He grumbles, “This is fucking ridiculous—it shouldn’t be this fucking hard throwing lights on a goddamn fucking tree—” He pauses, spins around to find where he’d gone wrong and then continues grouching to himself. “Can’t believe people do this fucking shit for fun. Stupidest thing I’ve ever—”

Javi manages to free himself and glances down at his watch to see he’s running out of time—it’s past five now, and unless Messina’s in one of those bad fucking moods of hers and decides to dump some last minute paperwork onto your desk, then you’re going to be walking through the front door soon.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling a deep and frustrated sigh.

He’d been an idiot to decline Connie’s offer to help him when she had dropped off the decorations for him earlier that afternoon.

“You sure you don’t need my help?” she had asked as she handed him the cardboard box overflowing with festive ornaments and tinsel. “I have a couple of more hours before I have to be at the clinic, you know. I can help you set it all up for her, make it all nice and pretty.”

“Thanks, but I’ve got it handled,” he’d replied. “I’m sure it won’t take me too long to put some—is this fucking fruit?” Confused, Javi shifted the box over to his hip, pulling out a string of dried oranges and red cranberries. “Um, what the hell is this for? This supposed to be a snack for me while I decorate?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s a homemade garland.”

“It’s a homemade what now?”

“Garland, Javier. It goes on the tree.”

Amused, he’d raised an eyebrow at her.

“Fruit going back onto the tree? That’s ironic.”

Sighing, Connie rolled her eyes at him once more.

“Last chance. Do you want my help or not, Javi?”

“I appreciate it, but like I said, I’ve got it handled.”

She’d shrugged. “Alright, suit yourself, then.”

Little did he know how he’d regret his decision. It’s a bigger headache than he thought it would be, an incredible waste of valuable time he could’ve been using to hunt down new leads, do the job he came here to do and find Pablo Escobar. Then again, the more he thinks about it, the more Javi realizes this isn’t a waste of his time at all—not really.

Because he’s doing this for you.

Because he knows you love Christmas.

Because he knows you’ve been feeling homesick.

The season you normally adored was bringing you nothing but heartache this year. There is a void—a hole in your heart that only your family could fill.

“Messina denied my request for time off,” you had told him, taking a drag of his cigarette—you’re not much of a smoker, but he’d learned that tended to change on occasion when you were upset. “Said it isn’t fair to let me go home for Christmas. That I’m not the only one who wants to be with their family. And I get it. I do.” Sighing, you took a second drag and then handed the cigarette back to Javier; he’d put it between his lips, the taste of cherry flavored lip gloss that lingered on the filtered tip prompting a craving stronger than his craving for nicotine. “It was selfish of me to even think of taking time off. I just—I miss spending Christmas in my hometown, you know? Waking up to snow outside my window in the mornings. Building snowmen with my sister, hurling snowballs at my brother. I miss my mother and her cooking. I miss my father and how even at our age, he still insists on pretending to be Santa.”

Laughing, Javier leaned forward on his stool.

You’d asked him to meet you at your usual spot—a quiet lounge bar right around the corner from your apartment. When he walked in and saw the scotch in front of you on the table, he’d known something was wrong. You’re not much of a drinker, either.

“Does he eat the cookies and drink the milk too?”

You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest, a little grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. He tried not to let his gaze longer there too long—he’s just one man. There was only so much strength he could muster to keep fighting the temptation.

“Of course. He takes his role very, very seriously.”

Despite your smile, he’d noticed it right away.

The unmistakable sadness in your eyes.

You were tough as fucking nails.

In this line of work, you had no choice but to be.

But Javier knew your family was your weakness.

His weakness?

His weakness was sitting there in front of him with a crestfallen expression on her pretty face, tracing around the rim of her glass with her finger.

“It’s stupid, isn’t it?” Your voice had thickened, the emotions you’re used to bottling up threatening to boil over.

“Of course not,” he assured you. “There is nothing stupid about wanting to go back home to see your family. There’s nothing stupid about wanting to be with them for the holidays. I promise you that.”

You snorted. “Peña, we’re trying to bring down the most dangerous man in all of South America. Last thing I need to be doing right now is dreaming of a white Christmas. It’s fucking stupid, alright?”

Hesitantly, Javier lifted his hand and placed it over yours—it wasn’t the first time he’d ever held it, not the first time he had shown physical affection, but this was the most vulnerable he had ever seen you and he didn’t want to make things worse. Once he realized it was okay, he brushed the back of it with his thumb softly, soothingly.

“Yo hablaré con Messina, cariño.”

“No hay caso para eso, Javier.”

“Maybe I can convince her to let you go. She’s got me and she’s got Murphy. We’ll handle things here while you head home for a few days, spend a week with your family for Christmas. Doesn’t hurt to try, you know.” Javi squeezed your hand. Knowing just how fucking stubborn you could be, he insisted on it. “Por favor, cielo. Dejame ayudarte con esto. Yo solo quiero verte feliz. Dejame ayudarte.”

You drained the rest of your scotch and swallowed it along with the lump that had climbed it’s way up your throat. Setting the glass back down, you then pulled your hand out from under his and stood up.

“Forget it. I’m here because I have a job to do—we both have a job to do. I’ll get over it, Javier. Always do.”

Before he could say another word, you’d picked up your jacket and purse, making a quick dash for the exit before he could see the stubborn tear slipping out from the corner of your eye and down the side of your face. But he had seen it, and that’s exactly why he knew he had to do something for you.

About an hour later, Javi places a glittering star on top of the white spruce and then takes a couple of steps back, hands on his hips. Cocking his head to the side, he observes the tree and makes sure that he hasn’t left a single spot bare. He decides to add more gold tinsel until he feels oddly satisfied—and once he is, he pulls out his pocket knife, using it to open the small sized box he had brought with him; two different addresses were scribbled on the side of it in your mother’s handwriting, his apartment’s address the destination, her address the return.

“I wrapped it well,” she’d said over the phone. “It’s her most prized possession, so I really hope it gets to you in one piece or she’s going to kill us both.”

Javier slowly unwraps the object inside and feels a wave of complete and utter relief wash over him to see it made it through customs without breaking.

He squints, taking a better look at the ornament.

The little blonde ballerina is made of porcelain and holds a nutcracker soldier in her arms—the skirt of her dress is white lace embroidered with teeny red rosettes that perfectly match the blush painted on her cheeks and the color of the bow in her hair.

“It’s Clara,” your mother had explained to him.

“Who?” he’d asked, stupidly.

“Clara. You know, from The Nutcracker?”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” he’d fibbed. “Clara. Got it.”

He had no clue what she had been talking about—but if it’s special to you, then it’s special to him.

Carefully, Javi hangs it on tree just as he hears the front door open and then slam shut so hard that it causes the paper thin walls of your unit to rattle.

“Peña!” you shout loudly. “You fucking asshole!”

Lip rolling between his teeth, he stifles a laugh.

You must have seen his Wrangler parked outside.

Grinning, Javier steps out into the hallway to greet you. “Hola, hermosa. Bienvenida a casa.”

“So, let me get this straight,” you say, tossing your purse and unit keys onto a nearby table. “You offer to give me ride to and from work but then proceed to ditch me and leave work three hours early—you leave me with no other fucking choice but to call a cab to bring me home and when he drops me off, I see your fucking car outside of my apartment?”

Rubbing his chin, he hums, “Sounds about right.”

You approach him, your hands curled into fists.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Javier?”

Javi’s quick to hold up his own hands in defense.

He won’t put it past you to knock him out—he and Murphy have seen you bring down men twice your size before without a weapon. Neither of them can decide if it’s hot as hell or downright terrifying.

“Okay, put those away and let me explain,” he tells you, shaking his head. “I’m really sorry I did that to you, but I did it for a reason.”

You scoff, “Well, if that reason was to piss me off, I have some news for you—it fucking worked.”

“That wasn’t the reason. Not this time, anyway.”

Chuckling, Javier extends a hand, holding it out to you.

You peer at it. “What are you doing, Peña?”

“Ven conmigo, cielo. Tengo una sorpresa para ti.”

Suspiciously, you ask him, “What did you do?”

He laughs again. He knew it wouldn’t make it easy for him. “You do know how surprises work, right?”

You lift your chin. “I do and I don’t like surprises.”

“I know you don’t, but I think you’ll like this one.”

Javi continues to hold out his hand and waits.

He’s just as stubborn as you are, if not more.

“We can stand here all fucking night, corazón.”

Sighing in defeat, you place your hand in his, heart skipping a beat when he smiles and laces together your fingers with his own.

“Cierra tus ojos.”

“Javier, I don’t want—”

He quickly cuts you off. “Do you trust me?”

Of course. Hell, you trusted him with your life.

And not just because it’s a job requirement.

Huffing, you do as he says and close your eyes.

“Good.” Javier places his other hand on your waist and his fingers brush against the patch of smooth, soft skin peeking out from between the waistband of your jeans and the hem of your blouse. Ignoring his burning desire to feel more of you, he leads the way into the living room and positions you in front of the tree. Without dropping your hand, he moves to stand directly behind you, chest pressed lightly against your back.“Puedes abrir tus ojos, bonita.”

“Look Peña, I don’t know what you’re up to but—”

Your own startled gasp cuts you off mid sentence.

Squeezing your hand, he leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear and you can feel his grin as he whispers, “Sorpresa, preciosa. Tienes un arbol de Navidad. Qué tal te parece?”

You open your mouth to speak, then clamp it shut.

His surprise had left you speechless.

Pleased with himself, Javi nudges you towards the tree and then drops his hands down at his sides as he watches you gingerly touch the needles.

Closing your eyes, you inhale deeply, the delicious, woodsy smell of pine reminding you of your family and how you’d all pile into your father’s old pickup truck and head to the Christmas Tree Farm to find the perfect white spruce to take home. Your father took great care in the picking process—he wanted the tallest, fluffiest, most fragrant tree. “Need this place to smell like the farm!” he’d boom. You smile and can’t help but to think he’d approve of Javi—if not because of what he had done for you, then the choice in tree would be enough to win him over.

“Do you like it?” he asks, softly.

You open your eyes and whirl around. “Javi, I can’t believe you did this,” you say, breathlessly. Smiling brighter than the lights on the Christmas tree, you throw your arms around him. “I love it so much!”

He savors the embrace—and wonders if you know just how perfectly you fit right in his arms.

“There’s one more surprise,” Javier informs you as he spins you around to look at the tree once again. “Do you see it?”

“See what?” Peering at the tree, you frown. “What am I supposed to be looking for—wait a second, is that—is that Clara?” Your hand flies to your mouth and you look up at him in complete shock. “That’s the ornament my grandmother made for me when I was a baby! I’ve had her since my first Christmas. How did you—?”

“Santa no cuenta sus secretos.” Javi grins, pulling you closer against his side. “But if you must know, your mom sent it to me,” he confesses. “Actually, I have to be honest—this whole thing was her idea.”

Perplexed, you ask, “This was my mom’s idea?”

“I know you’ve been having a hard time being here during the holidays instead of with your family,” he says. “I called her up a couple of weeks ago, asked her what I could do for you. We started talking and came up with this.” He shrugs and touches a hand to the back of his neck, sheepishly. “I know it’s not the same as going home. But I thought it might be nice to bring a little piece of home here to you.”

Warmth blossoms inside of your chest as you turn to face him. You place a hand on his chest. “Javi?”

Nervously, his throat bobs. “Yeah?”

“Why did you do this for me?”

Javier lifts his hand and tucks a lock of hair behind your ear. “I told you. I just want to see you happy.”

“But why?”

You know why.

But you need to hear him say it.

You need to hear it from his own mouth.

Javi’s hand moves to cup the side of your face. “Is it not obvious?” he murmurs as he grazes the silky soft skin over your cheekbone. “Tú bien sabes qué yo siento algo por ti, hermosa. Aunque no sientas igual.”

“How do you know I don’t feel the same for you?”

“Do you?” His thumb sweeps your bottom lip. “Do you feel the same for me?”

Your hand curls around his red plaid flannel.

“I shouldn’t,” you admit. “We’re work partners.”

He feigns offense. “Ouch. And here I was, thinking we were friends.” He now takes your chin between his index finger and his thumb. Licking his lips, his eyes meet yours. “Breaking my heart, baby.”

Your breath audibly catches. “We are friends—and it scares me to put our friendship on the line.”

“But?” he prompts as he tilts your head up toward his. His opposite hand finds your hip and pulls you closer to him.

“But when you do things like this—it’s hard for me not to fucking fall in love with you, Peña.” You drag your hand down his chest, your fingers relishing in the softness of his flannel. “It’s so fucking hard for me not to fall in love with somebody who feels like home.”

Javier’s chuckles softly.

“For the record, this wasn’t a ploy to get you to fall in love with me, corazón. But if it worked—” Javier pauses, dropping his hand from your face. “Then I guess it’s worth pulling this thing out.”

He reaches into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Javi, what the hell are you—?”

He grins, holding the mistletoe above your heads.

“Connie said this might come in handy.”

Your eyes flicker to his lips, then meet his gaze.

“Ven aqui, Peña.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull Javi in and crash your mouth against his. You brush his bottom lip with your tongue and he grants you the access you’re looking for. He tastes like spearmint and scotch, and something else too.

He tastes like yours.

And he feels like home.

diver credit to @saradika-graphics ❤️

Translations

Yo hablaré con Messina, cariño. - I’ll talk to Messina, darling.

No hay caso para eso, Javier. - There’s no point, Javier.

Dejame ayudarte con esto. Yo solo quiero verte feliz. - Let me help you with this. I just want to see you happy.

Ven conmigo, cielo. Tengo una sorpresa para ti. - Come with me, I have a surprise for you.

Cierra tus ojos. - Close your eyes.

Puedes abrir tus ojos, bonita. - You can open your eyes, pretty girl.

Sorpresa, preciosa. Tienes un arbol de Navidad. Qué tal te parch? - Surprise, precious girl. You have a Christmas tree. What do you think?

Santa no cuenta sus secretos. - Santa doesn’t tell his secrets.

Tú bien sabes qué yo siento algo por ti, hermosa. Aunque no sientes igual. - You know all too well I have feelings for you. Even if you don’t feel the same.

Ven aqui, Peña. - Come here, Peña.

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña x you #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fluff #narcos fanfiction #javier peña one shot #javier peña drabble #12 days of pedro

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malleleothreesome · 11 months ago

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Under the Mistletoe with Malleus

❤️ summary: Malleus' latest hyperfixation is mistletoe ༶༶༶ 💚 warnings: gender neutral reader, SFW, fluff, romance, Christmas centric but not religious ༶༶༶ ❤️ word count: 4k ༶༶༶ 💚 inspired by: this ask thank you! ♡✧*:･ﾟ

Malleus listens intently to all the tales you have to tell, all the little pieces of your world, of yourself—all the little snippets that come rushing out from the recesses of your memories, painting a picture of your humanity and the universe you'd once inhabited. All the intricacies and details of how your family would spend Christmas, the foods, the gifts, the songs—he loves hearing all about your unique traditions and experiences. Malleus is endlessly grateful for each of these recollections that you decide to entrust him with—small moments of personal history that hold so much weight in shaping who you are. Your mind runs wild as your thoughts run rampant, a blur of vivid recollections that overwhelm you. Then, he sees the tears brimming on your lash line and the tremble of your lower lip, his heart sinking instantly when the painful weight of homesickness visibly crashes down upon you. His own emotions, his yearning, his gratitude are all clogged up in his throat. When the tears finally drip past your lashes and down your cheeks, you're swaddled in strong, firm arms that cradle you. Malleus doesn't bother with words as he shushes your sobs, only offering his comfort with the secure tuck of your frame against his larger form, and the gentle tracing of his elegant, gloved fingertips along the curve of your back in soothing circles. His soft humming is melodious against the crook of your shoulder, warm and welcoming as he surrounds you completely.

Wanting to make the Christmas season extra special for you, his dearest friend, Malleus spends copious hours poring over the plethora of holiday books he could acquire from the school library—reading and studying each festive tale, tradition, and legend until the pages are wrinkled with the oils from his fingertips. Each chapter carefully absorbed and ingrained into his psyche, his eyes sparkling alight with delight and fascination, relishing in the lightness and warmth of the holidays as he familiarized himself with this magical and jovial festivity. When Christmas rolls around the corner, Malleus ensures the front entrance to Ramshackle dorm is lit up and decked to the nines in brightly glowing lights strung all over the framework—an aura of luminescence and color enveloping the dilapidated architecture with festive spirit. The rest of the exterior of the Dorm was covered with glittering golden tinsel, wreaths, garlands and pinecones—whatever he had deemed as festive in his extensive research.

Malleus was determined to honor this strange holiday—a special and important part of your childhood—but unfortunately, none of the decorations, lights, or Christmas cheer were quite as meaningful and special as what he wanted it all to symbolize. When he heard about the tradition involving a parasitic plant, he was naturally intrigued by the idea that a plant would wilt away and die if not united with a particular organism—it could only flourish and thrive when entwined with its complementary other half. In return, the mistletoe would provide both beautiful flowers and ripe fruit, enhancing the lives of the forest around them and fostering harmony within the ecosystem. However, it was the usage of that plant during a kiss that truly made him delighted by its macabre nature and its value to this sacred human festivity. It seemed befitting somehow that the now dead mistletoe, the melancholy parasite that thrives in connection with others, could bring a measure of life and happiness to all who cross its path through a kiss under its eternal, desiccated embrace. Perhaps, this tradition could serve as his best effort to explain that this gesture was intended as a token of appreciation for the kindness you have extended to him—the pleasure and privilege of having you, such a splendid and bright star, in his dark and dreary world—his reward to you for making him feel alive with such an overwhelming sense of happiness that he didn't even know the sensation could exist until you entered into his life. For Malleus, you were the one to awaken him, to pull him from a long slumber and into your embrace, allowing him the privilege of knowing warmth, love, and joy once more. A ghost of a smile appears on his lips, unbidden, as he imagines the roots of the mistletoe spreading through both your lungs, finding nourishment in each other's energy, a complete symbiosis.

Malleus desired so much that your connection would be reciprocal, as intimate and profound as the magic of this holiday would allow. Though your relationship up until this point has remained platonic, he hopes the magic of this custom might give him permission to love and cherish you as so much more. From the moment he first laid his eyes on you, his heart had already made his decision. That fiery intensity of emotion for you has only been compounded with each meeting the two of you have shared—the yearning that only grows stronger with each moment he spends at your side. His feelings for you have reached a saturation point; the deep well of passion and affection that burns ever stronger within the confines of his chest will not be extinguished unless the source of all his turmoil is revealed and answered in due kind. At long last, he wastes no time in preparing the customary kiss. His heart yearns so dearly for it that even the constant tug of his usual shyness and trepidation could never possibly bring him to halt in his advances. Malleus promised himself that the delicate, thriving thing you and he were developing would not fall prey to the same pitiful demise as the mistletoe if left untouched and unwatered. If you did indeed feel similarly about him, he could only imagine the beauty and majesty that would blossom between your intertwined souls, a union of great and unstoppable potency, a lifetime of adoration and devotion.

Therefore, he procured a large branch of mistletoe, so ripe and abundant with sprigs that its small, white berries shimmered and shone. The hanging plant seemed to call out, in a sing-song tinkle of fairy bell laughs, for his beloved to walk underneath, so he could ensnare you in its clutches and give you an obligatory kiss you couldn’t refuse—or so he hoped. Malleus wrapped the strand with some festive red ribbon, decorated with twirling glittery snowflakes, making it shimmer under the twinkling rays of Christmas light. Then, he carefully balanced the mistletoe at the highest point above the doorsill and stepped back, admiring the way the golden glow of the lights would reflect off the glossy white berries, casting them in an ethereal iridescent glow that made them pop, dancing across its branches as though possessed by some Christmas spirit. They sang for you, just waiting for you to take Malleus up on their unspoken promise of his unrequited, hidden desires for your lips.

With that, Malleus knocked on your door. Though, despite his determination and his willpower—so vast and endless that his ambition was virtually limitless—Malleus couldn't help but be flustered, his hands trembling and sweat forming along his brow, heart rate beginning to rise like a swelling wave until he could hear it beating in his pointed ears. The silence that engulfed him was deafening as his mind replayed the myriad ways you might respond to his advances—sharing his sentiments, returning his affections, giving him the opportunity to finally love and kiss you the way he so desperately, hopelessly yearned. Or—perhaps, his advances could have an unwanted negative reaction, creating friction or even destroying your friendship—if not the very love he sought—completely. Undeterred by the looming anxiety that threatens to drown him like a tempest-wrought sea, his heart manages to remain valiant and brave, the steady rhythm keeping him tethered, ensuring him the courage to risk the possibility of breaking apart and dissipating with the winter wind that sieves through his lithe fingers.

As he hears the creaking footsteps along the old staircase inside, the adrenaline kicks in, giving him the fight or flight impulse he has been lacking, his legs stiffening, threatening to buckle from his immense nerves, knees trembling so harshly that he almost loses his balance. He shuts his eyes, trying to brace himself for whatever comes next, not allowing himself to breathe again until the knob finally gives way and the door is thrown open. At last, Malleus gazes upon your dazzling appearance, flooding his vision with an image he's dreamed about for weeks: you stand before him, bathed in the bright, effervescent light, glittering hues of gold and green like a present wrapped up just for him. Before he even allows you a moment to compose yourself and register his presence, Malleus can't help himself, the need to let his words rush out overwhelming him until his syllables practically stumble over each other.

"I wish to partake in the traditional parasite with you," he tells you quickly, trying to sound confident despite the urgent desperation to speak leaking through in his strained vocal chords, struggling to hide the shakiness that attempts to invade and taint the voice he wanted to convey his longing for you with. His words are filled with hope and trepidation, his emerald eyes wide with vulnerability as the mistletoe glistens under the shimmer of lights he personally strung up, bathing the two of you and your surroundings in a magnificent luminance that casts a perfect spellbinding glow upon the scene. Your mouth falls slightly ajar as your eyelids flutter in confusion before registering his intention, noticing the way his expectant eyes dart between your lips and the hanging plant above your door frame, his intense gaze giving you the most telling implication. The sudden realization of his motive renders your whole being paralyzed. Your face heats up from the sheer impossibility of the moment and your brain fizzles into a complete and utter daze, unsure how to comprehend the enormity of the offer he's extending.

An eternity seemed to pass as the seconds ticked on, his dark brows knitting together as the mist and tension seemed to wrap around the both of you. The sting of the cold wind whistled past the space that seemed to shrink between the two of you in unbearable torment. A curtain of lacy snow was falling around, shrouding everything in a dull glow. The night itself seemed to be in a strange sort of serenity and apprehension—watching his eyes lock onto you so intently and feeling his breath, hot and heavy, mingling in the frost between the two of you. The foggy mist of the cool evening air floats through your hair, tiny particles of frozen water suspended around you and shimmering brilliantly as the beams of multicolored lights shine past and illuminate each crystalline droplet in a celestial aura.

Despite it all, your focus was on him alone.

Finally, he was able to collect the breath stolen from his lungs and continue his confession, taking your floundering silence as an invitation for his explanation. "I had wished to spend some time with you under a mistletoe, even though this is something that humans usually do with their partners or loved ones..." he admits sheepishly. You couldn't stop the gasp that escaped your lips when you saw how glassy and emotive his eyes were, the sparkling lights catching the yellow flecks in his viridescent stare.

A shadowy flush washes over his pale complexion as he allows the words he had tried so long to repress to come flowing freely from his lips. "I've noticed how sad you seemed since you were removed from your world, and I wanted to bring you a little of the Christmas cheer you're accustomed to. I wanted to ensure we'd have a pleasant Christmas, especially with how often you've shown me such loving kindness," a sigh escaped his throat, "you've gone to such great lengths, I wanted you to know just how much you mean to me..." His fingers thread together anxiously as he continues his ramblings. "I was so excited to learn the Christmas tales, legends, and histories behind all the traditions... There is so much joy and good-will involved. It seemed a befitting way to honor our time together. As my beloved friend—," his tone holds a subtle note of reluctance to his last statement as he lingers on the term a bit too long. "I wanted to ensure your time in Twisted Wonderland wasn't depressing, and that you experienced Christmas as best you could under your circumstances." The more his sentences seem to elongate, the further he's pulled into himself and begins to overthink every minuscule aspect of his interaction.

The wind picks up slightly, blowing his silky, ebony locks away from his forehead, revealing the shiny scales that cascade up the top half of his head as his horns poke out through the billowing strands. His long, heavy cloak trails behind him, sweeping up the fresh piles of glittery snowfall, shimmering under the auras of the decorative lights he painstakingly strung for you. Malleus was so imposing in the darkness of the night—there's an ineffable beauty to it as his skin seems to emit its own soft glow. Yet, despite his frightening appearance, he appears so docile and timid standing before you with his head bowed, one foot dragging the toe of his boot along the white slush and ice, kicking clumps of snowy wisps, attempting to abate his mounting anxiety.

"...Are you aware, child of man, of the nature and symbolism of the mistletoe?" He pauses and peers into your eyes, emerald pools pleading for mercy as a crack opens within him, revealing his fluttering soul for your scrutiny, allowing you to glimpse his emotional state in a rare display. "Mistletoe requires the partnership and nourishment of another to keep it flourishing—without its partner, it will wither and die a gruesome death, gasping, desperate, starving..." The strain on his tone is audible, words full of unspeakable yearning as he pines so desperately, the loneliness of centuries seeming to distill within a single, all-encompassing desire for your acceptance and love. His Adam's apple bobs with a hard gulp of apprehension as he seeks the approval he longs for deep within your gaze, hoping he has finally found the love of which he has searched for since the first heartbeat he has taken.

"No matter where it falls, or how strong its stem or seed, it will perish without another plant to sustain and nurture it," his explanation was grave and yet somehow poetic, holding you entranced with rapt attention. Each sentence was meant to mimic his struggle—the endless waiting, and the desperate need for companionship that has weighed so heavy on his aching heart for so long. The solemn confession of a hopeless romantic, yearning desperately for the chance to take root, plant his soul and spread until all the ache was gone, replaced by the warmth and fulfillment of life only a partner could give him.

"And yet, if the two plants come into symbiosis with each other, the result is breathtaking—one would not expect something so simple would possess such transcendent beauty and vibrance," his melodic tenor takes on an ethereal quality, as the wondrous facts he learned are once again brought to the surface, replacing the melancholy in the air. "Mistletoe is capable of blossoming to life; producing flowers and bearing fruits when combined with its host, providing an environment for both plants to flourish and thrive," his heart picks up its pace at the subtle meaning and implication behind his words. "Once a healthy mistletoe becomes entangled with its beloved, the pair remain connected and thrive, ultimately strengthened by the bonds forged in interdependency, blooming brightly against the frigid temperatures of winter." Malleus' soul is brimming and bubbling over with the hope and anticipation of a relationship with you and, in an instant, Malleus understands what it truly means to be alive.

"Since you first crossed my path, the mistletoe within my chest grew with such ravenous appetite, longing to reach out to your heart and find harmony, sharing in warmth and nurturing life. You, my lovely starlight, are a plant of the utmost virtue," he gently caresses your cheek as you fall deeper under his enchantment. His words have rendered you completely immobilized, the smooth silk of his voice ensnaring you, unable to escape its sweet whispers and dulcet tone. "For the first time in all of my years, the bud inside me began to bear fruit and opened my eyes to a paradise I never thought possible. Through a simple act of your kindness, you have breathed life into my tired and aching heart and granted me new purpose." Malleus cups your face so delicately, long, tapered fingers stroking the curve of your cheekbones in loving affection. He gazes at you with glowing, adoring eyes, staring deep into the infinite possibilities of your future together. The soft plumes of the falling snowflakes softly embrace you as his feather-light touch communicates all his longing and unspoken passions. You allow yourself to bask in the tender and raw vulnerability of his heart as the glimmering lights and stars in the sky shine with the promise of a brighter tomorrow for you both.

"I had spent many years in unending isolation. Each passing second in your presence was the happiest, most indescribable euphoria. It took a considerable amount of time to discover these feelings and become aware that they are associated with the yearning for intimacy, something which I was denied for a great amount of my lifespan. I've long desired the things I've learned your Christmas legends signify," the words leave him on a wistful sigh, an endless source of elation. "Of family, comfort, love... All that I desire for Christmas is you," he concludes softly. "It was thanks to my research into the mistletoe that I realized how much I needed your lips as though without them I would never draw another breath, so I ask... Do you wish to be mine? Could I have the gift of your lips, of a kiss?" he requests breathlessly as the tip of his tapered thumb ghosts across the flesh of your plush lower lip, sending shivers throughout your whole being.

At last, the confessions of his affections toward you reach their inevitable resolution, allowing the culmination and coalescence of every feeling and emotion within his soul to burst forth like fireworks, shooting off into the midnight air in an explosion of beauty and intensity that would cause any witness to pause and stare in awe of the magic of the night. Like the soft, romantic tones of Christmas music and the enchanted glimmers of holiday lights, Malleus' spell woven in the lyrics of his confession engulfs you in an aurora borealis of ardent devotion. The feeling of his hands against your cheeks radiates warmth and comfort as he cradles your visage close, tender and secure against the soft flurries that flow all around you, surrounding you with an intimate aura of holiday mirth. You find yourself leaning into his touch as your heart and soul yearn to return the depths of his affection, so openly displayed across his handsome, captivating features. With a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins, your knees threatening to buckle from his searing yet unyielding stare, you gather the strength to utter the most wonderful syllables you have ever experienced the pleasure of pronouncing—the sum of every single one of his blessings wrapped up neatly into one succinct phrase.

"I love you, too."

Your voice was shaky, unsteady, cracking under the emotion, but the message was unmistakable. The intensity of the moment rendered Malleus stunned and speechless, tears of delight stinging his emerald eyes, brimming at the waterline with the intensity of his joy. Every single day was spent thinking of the next instance where the two of you might cross paths and now, you'd just given him the most spectacular present in the world. Malleus doesn't think about anything else, he just leans in, lips parted ever so slightly, barely containing the gasping breath that escapes his throat as his nose nudges yours and his entire world collapses upon itself before igniting with an incandescence of pure elation. With all the delicate adoration of his whole, enchanted being, he offers you a sweet brush of his soft, inviting lips against yours. A whimper emanates from his mouth as a trembling sob of disbelief is unleashed, reverberating between the two of you and sending every last vestige of his restrained sentiment into you, engulfing your heart in a fervid embrace that crushes you with all the weight of his desperation—his centuries' worth of desire and craving for an end to his misery.

Despite having never been kissed, his lips moved confident and gentle, as though it were as natural as his very breath, or the thrum of his heart. The sensations were unparalleled—better than his wildest expectations as your flesh entwined with his, mingling the pliant texture and pillowy warmth. A satisfied sigh rolls past his tongue, which teases the seam of your mouth, offering gentle, fleeting sensations as he licks and teases your bottom lip. A series of jolts rock your frame when his fangs accidentally nip at the skin. The sound that leaks from his throat as he swipes his tongue over the wound and laps up the warm, metallic liquid of your blood is guttural and broken with the raw emotion of being deprived of such ecstasy for so long. It was heavenly—to finally be united and experience the taste of love, passion, and the transcendent rapture of the one and only person to ever make him feel such happiness.

He swallows every whimper and moan of your kiss, reveling in the sounds that permeate through your entangled forms and dance on the frosted wind. Your fingers come to thread through his silk-like locks, nails grazing his scalp until a shudder rattles his chest and his tongue can't help but invade the hot, wet cavern of your mouth. There's a subtle pressure placed on the base of your skull, adding a deeper angle, so that he may completely envelope and taste the sweetness of your saliva as you revel in each other. When the chill of the winter winds brings forth the full impact of the cold, and the mistletoe spins aimlessly under its icy breath, swaying above, you are undeterred in the bliss of your newfound love. Your noses smudge as you press yourself further, gaining deeper contact and savoring each brush of his deft, explorative tongue and the tickle of his heated breath fanning against the sensitive surface of your palette. The kiss sparks flames within you that make you forget the bitter chill, warming the deepest crevices of your core, staving off the frigidness of the night and replacing it with the cozy, fluffy heat of your love. You clutch desperately, latching onto the black tailcoat and pressing the muscles and softness of your bodies even closer, desperate for each touch, wanting him as close to your form as you can manage. The fullness of your feelings for each other, and the completeness of his confession, finally come together in a bittersweet, perfect dance of two souls. Forever bound, hearts thudding in unison as you two continue to exchange kisses underneath the mistletoe, filling this merry season with newfound glee and a holiday tradition all your own.

When you two finally make it inside, you sit comfortably with his arms wrapped around you atop a pile of plush blankets, surrounded by mounds of pillows under the twinkling lights of the massive tree he had erected and draped in garland. Next to him, there was nowhere better you'd rather be, snuggling deeper into his warmth, burying yourself in his embrace and cuddled tight under his heavy, weighted cloak as the roaring fire before you burned in a warmth that reflected that of the deep, profound affection the two of you shared for each other. As he held you in his lap, surrounded by the soft music playing in the background and the decorations he'd strung, he looks at you with excitement alight on his beautiful visage, eager to share more fun facts about his latest hyperfixation. With the shimmering lights refracting across the deep emerald pools of his gaze, he starts to ramble, "Did you know, mistletoe is also a sacred symbol of fertility—"

Woah, woah, woah, woah... I just spent all day working on this, its like, 10:30pm and now I'm just now eating mac and cheese for dinner. I really love what I created, I hope you all do too. This was fulfilling a request for my 12 Days of TWSTmas event, so uh, anon, I'm not sure if this is what you expected of me... I think I projected my own newfound mistletoe hyperfixation onto Malleus a bit too hard, but I hope this meets your expectations. I'm desperate to hear all your thoughts on this one, I really want you guys to love this as much as I do! I wish I had more to say here, but my brain is melting. My exhausted brain longs to sign this off like a corporate email. Best, Erica Malleleothreesome

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst malleus draconia #twst malleus #twisted wonderland malleus x reader #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland malleus #malleus x reader #malleyuu #twst imagines #malleus draconia fluff #my writing

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astraerystarr · 6 months ago

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Optimus Prime x Megatron fic recs!!

HII AGAIN, I had to delete my old account @numbraerys so I'm reuploading this rec list, sorry about the mess but I'll make the rec a little prettier this time ^^

Homesick For A Memory by Eisengrave, Maelikki [M, 9k w., Bay Movies]

Even Primes can lose their faith. But sometimes, their failed Protectors make good on their word given long ago.(weird little fixit for AoE because we stan a protective Megatron and an Optimus who is finally tired of his human hamsters. Also, homecoming.)

~ugly crying, screaming on my pillow, rolling around on the floor

The Silver Lining by GeminiWishes [Teen and up, 38k w., Transformers Animated 2007]:

After Optimus was expelled from the Autobot Academy, he had no sense of what to do or where to go. Desperate for purpose, he ends up on a mining crew that travels the galaxy. But when their ship is attacked, Optimus' life will change forever.

Whether or not he'll be able to handle those changes is yet to be determined.

~I ran around my room on all fours reading this

Some Kind Of Forever by auri_mynonys (FAVE) [E, 8625 w., TFP]:

A chance meeting in a bar near the Pits brings Orion Pax and Megatronus together.

~I freaking love this fic, I'm so glad it was one of the first I ever read

Adeste Fideles by Legitconcrusher (FAVE) [Teen and up, TFP, 57,632+ w, ongoing]:

“Oh, indulge me, Optimus. How many times have you answered your desire’s calls to walk among these pitiful creatures…in the flesh?”

In which Optimus shares with his greatest foe, and former friend - Megatron, the one time a year he allows himself to feel amid the throes of their War within a Christmas market.

The angsty slow burn Christmas AU no one asked for.

~absolutely wonderful to read and incredible writing♡♡♡♡

Gaining Perspective by Dragonlingdar [Teen and up, BayVerse, 105,732 w., Ongoing]:

Megatron and Optimus are turned into humans by a prototype weapon Starscream uses against them. In order for Megatron to get his revenge and Optimus to free himself of Megatron, they must reclaim their original bodies. However, will they still be Optimus Prime and Megatron by the time they do?

~I hyperfixated on this fic for a whole month after finishing it

Contact by auri_mynonys (FAVE) [E, 98,747 w., TFP]:

Orion Pax knows there's a word for what Megatronus means to him. He just can't quite put his finger on what it is.

Which is probably how he missed the moment where he asked Megatronus to marry him.

~Slow Burn♡♡♡♡♡

Plus One by auri_mynonys [E, 64,631 w., TFP]:

Megatronus has a party to attend. A high-caste date will lend him status in the eyes of his fellow gladiators, and Orion Pax is all too happy to play the part…

~this fic was infuriating to read, I loved every second of it

Songs Of Metal And Sparks by EbonyAura [Teen and up, 58,741 w., Rock n' Roll AU, TFP]:

Imagine the Transformers Prime universe where war is nonexistent, and instead of the Autobot and Decepticon factions, it's the Autobot and Decepticon rock bands.

Imagine that both bands are nearly world famous, yet have no idea the other exists.

Imagine that Cybertron's festival of music is approaching, and with it, the chance for a lucky upcoming band to go on a world tour.

Imagine that both bands, ecstatic for the chance to finally reach world fame, are going to the festival.

~this cured my teenage heart that didn't get to read nice cute stuff like this

Optimus Prime Is Destined To Die!! by Chuzilllaa (FAVE) [G, 169k+ w, ongoing]:

Orion Pax is your typical archivist from a functionalist free universe and lives a peaceful life, but after dying tragically in a transport incident he’s reincarnated as Optimus Prime of the hit action novel Songs of the Spark, the beautiful but aloof eldest prince of the Prime lineage…who is a pathetic side character doomed to die a tragic death at the hands of the tyrannical Duke Megatron.

Of course his darling little brother Rodimus Prime is the precious hero and puts an end to Megatron’s reign, but Orion has no intention of dying a pathetic death! No! Not again! He wants to live damnit! So begins the attempts of a pax-turned-prime turning over a new leaf in the hope of living another day. Little does he know there’s a bit more to Optimus than a pathetic side character…

~I love this fic so. damn. much.

Lunch Date by Chuzilllaa [Teen and up, 6,000+ w, Earthspark, crack]:

With a new cafe opening at G.H.O.S.T headquarters, Optimus invites Megatron to try something new.

~fluffy and funny♡♡♡

At First Sight by Lyricality (FAVE) [M, 27,000+ w.]:

Optimus is the last of the Primes; Megatron is the greatest of Kaon's gladiatorial warriors. Their shared destiny - Optimus is certain - just needs a push in the correct direction.

~help I got obsessed with this fic and I can't get out

To give (in) by 0 (only_elsewhere) (FAVE) [M, 10,000+ w, Earthspark]:

After the war, Optimus confesses.

~aaashhksdkkklkosljdhjh

Victory Condition by astolat [E, 37,000+ w, TF Gen1]

“Do you want me to tell you a story?” Megatron said mockingly. “You won’t like it, Prime. It’s not a very nice one.”

~cave in fic with poetry and the heart wrenching story of Megatron's origins - my beloved

Cooking Off by zuzeca [E, 2000 w., IDW G1]:

Megatron and Optimus find themselves in an awkward position and learn some extremely personal information about each other.

~ Good reading ;3

#megaop #fic recs #transformers #Optimus prime x Megatron #megatron x optimus prime #Transformers fic recs #megop #I'm always adding new fics i find #reupload #I'll see Transformers One soon and then I'll update this list with fics from that movieverse too :D

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cegantheayugipi · 2 years ago

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The Idiot Internship (Itto x Reader)

An Arataki Itto x Reader oneshot

Word Count: 9.2k

WARNINGS: BIG SMUT AHEAD, MINORS DNI!!

Tags include: heats/ruts, omegaverse themes (Itto is an Oni after all), breeding, marathon sex, reader is AFAB

Summary: You’re a Liyuean law student looking for a summer work study. When an alumna from your school offers you one all the way in the beautiful islands of Inazuma, who are you to decline? However, it comes with a caveat – your boss knows nothing (and cares nothing) about the law.

OR: Itto was never taught about the birds and the bees. Heck, he wasn't even taught what masturbation was, and he was a little too dumb to figure out on his own. However, when your continuous presence around him during your internship sends him straight into an Oni rut, he's going to need a lot of teaching – fast.

~~~ When Kuki Shinobu gave you this job and told you that your boss would be dumb, you had no idea she meant this dumb.

And here you sat, at the back of the dilapidated office room where the Arataki Gang held meetings, listening to Arataki Itto’s ‘great and glorious’ idea.

“And then, at the end of the drumalong festival, we set off a bunch of fireworks! It’ll be great!”

“Uh, Boss.” Shinobu spoke up, raising her hand in protest. “We need to apply for a formal permit to have any sort of public demonstration, and the process will take weeks.”

Your white-haired boss shrugged dramatically, scoffing at his subordinate’s suggestion.

“Psh, who needs a permit, we can do everything first and ask for forgiveness later!” Itto brushed off Shinobu’s very important statement of fact.

When Kuki Shinobu gave you this job and told you that your boss would be dumb, you had no idea she meant this dumb.

And here you sat, at the back of the dilapidated office room where the Arataki Gang held meetings, listening to Arataki Itto’s ‘great and glorious’ idea.

“And then, at the end of the drumalong festival, we set off a bunch of fireworks! It’ll be great!”

“Uh, Boss.” Shinobu spoke up, raising her hand in protest. “We need to apply for a formal permit to have any sort of public demonstration, and the process will take weeks.”

Your white-haired boss shrugged dramatically, scoffing at his subordinate’s suggestion.

“Psh, who needs a permit, we can do everything first and ask for forgiveness later!” Itto brushed off Shinobu’s very important statement of fact.

You tried your best not to scoff, or make any noise for that matter. As a law student who had traveled all the way from Liyue for this work study, every single word that left the gang leader’s mouth in regards to rules and regulations made you wonder if he even had two brain cells to put together. While the Oni may be hot, what he had in body he lacked in brains.

“Boss, if it’s alright, I’ll talk to the Yashiro Commission about it anyways.” Shinobu spoke up, her arms crossed over her chest as she faced her boss nonchalantly. It seemed like she typically had to do things like this for him. She was sitting next to Itto, as per usual.

“Alright, alright. It’s still a couple months away, so that’s enough talking for now. Let’s go have some udon!” Itto announced cheerfully.

You sighed loudly, not bothering to hide your exasperation. The gang members began to chatter loudly as they shuffled out of the run-down meeting room, excited for a good meal of Inazuman noodles, led by Itto who was the most excited out of the bunch. You wondered why on earth Kuki enjoyed managing an organization like the Arataki Gang when it seemed more like babysitting several adult children.

~~~

You followed the gang through the streets of Inazuma City, your stomach full from the large meal you all shared at the local noodle shop. Although you tended to miss your home country of Liyue, the food in Inazuma was so good that it always eased your homesickness.

Kuki Shinobu trailed at the back of the group, falling in step in front of you. She footed the bill for everyone, because somehow the Arataki Gang was always broke. You wondered how on earth Shinobu managed to pay your wages for the work-study, let alone the gang’s daily activities. However, according to your professor Yanfei, Kuki Shinobu was a woman of many miracles. You couldn’t deny she was incredibly intelligent – she single handedly made up for the gang’s collective lack of brain cells.

You were in the middle of thinking about how lucky you were to be offered a work study from Shinobu when you spotted your boss’s red and white hair in the corner of your eye. He was at a Taiyaki stand, chatting loudly to its owner. As you changed direction and walked closer to him you began to pick up their conversation.

“Just one left?!” Itto exclaimed dramatically. “I’ll take it!” The Oni dug through his pockets, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper, some lint, and a handful of mora.

The woman who ran the stand reluctantly picked the mora from his hand, offering up the last Taiyaki in exchange. You admired the beautifully decorated Taiyaki stand, glancing over the intricate sign displaying the menu.

Taiyaki flavors:

Chocolate SOLD OUT

Matcha SOLD OUT

Red Bean

Pumpkin SOLD OUT

Custard SOLD OUT

Wait… the last one was red bean?

Itto was allergic to beans.

As he raised the Taiyaki to his mouth, you realized you needed to stop him.

“Don’t eat it!” You shouted, lunging for your dumbass Oni of a boss. You snatched the food from his grip with a surprising amount of ease, considering how much muscle Itto had. All he did was stare – meanwhile, you did the best thing you could think of.

Opening your mouth wide, you shoved the entire Taiyaki in your mouth. You couldn’t deny it was delicious, but your face burned bright red with embarrassment as you chewed on the dessert.

“Wh-” Itto gawked. “Who are you?!” His voice cracked with surprise as he shouted.

“I’m your intern.” Your voice was muffled by the absurd volume of dessert that filled your mouth.

“Oh, I see… Did you really want the last Taiyaki that bad?” Itto asked, his voice sounding disappointed that he didn’t get to taste the dessert.

“Beans.” You spoke, pointing to your mouth. You finally swallowed the last of the Taiyaki with one large gulp, continuing to talk now that your mouth was finally free. “The Taiyaki has red bean paste inside.”

Itto let out an overly-dramatic gasp, one hand flying up to cover his chest.

“You saved my life!” He exclaimed. “I’m allergic to beans!”

“I know.” You responded, giving your boss an awkward smile.

“You’re awesome! Who hired you?”

“Kuki Shinobu.”

“Of course it’s my right hand man who hired someone as great as you!”

You nodded, knowing that you were, in fact, great and that you had most certainly saved Itto’s day – or possibly week, considering how bad his allergy was.

“What’s all this ruckus?” Shinobu spoke as she approached the two of you.

“The intern you hired saved me, Shinobu!” Itto pointed at you. “I was about to die!”

“Don’t be overly dramatic.” You responded flatly. “I just prevented you from eating beans.”

“Ah,” Shinobu nodded, “Thanks for staying sharp, boss doesn’t read menus well enough for someone with a severe food allergy.”

“Thank you, thank you so much!” Itto scooped you up in a huge hug, inadvertently squishing your face into his ginormous chest as he spun you around.

You were extremely annoyed at Itto’s irresponsible, reckless, and stupid behavior. However, you couldn’t deny it was strangely pleasant to be squished into such a soft chest.

You felt a little dizzy as Itto finally set you down, thinking perhaps the spinning had thrown your balance off.

“Oh, what’s your name, by the way?” Itto asked casually.

“Boss, I think they’re a little overwhelmed.” Shinobu spoke up. She noticed how red your face had gotten, and was worried that Itto had manhandled you a little too much.

“Uhhhh…” you mumbled, staring at Itto’s chest, too dazed to respond.

~~~

Ever since you ate Itto’s dessert to prevent him from having an allergic reaction, Kuki began to assign you to more and more tasks related to your boss. First it was running simple errands for him, like helping Granny Oni with her groceries, making tea for the meetings, or helping Itto find Onikabuto for his ridiculous beetle fighting tournaments.

You did everything begrudgingly – you accepted this work study thinking you’d be shadowing Kuki, not running around as her idiot boss’s assistant. You felt almost like you were a glorified and well-paid babysitter for the seven-foot tall Oni.

Eventually, Shinobu even gave you keys to Itto’s house to wake him up, since he tended to sleep in and risk missing his morning meetings.

“Wait, what do you mean, make sure he attends today’s meeting?” You questioned, turning over the metal key in your hand.

“If Boss isn’t up, can you make sure he is?” Shinobu explained. “The key is yours to keep, just make sure he doesn’t miss any more meetings.”

“Uhm…” You looked down at the key for another minute before responding to Shinobu. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Great.” She responded, immediately switching her focus to another task as she poured over papers on her desk.

You immediately walked over to Itto’s house, nervous about the huge level of trust Kuki Shinobu must have in you to be giving you Itto’s house key.

‘Just make sure he doesn’t miss any more meetings.’

Shinobu’s words echoed in your head as you reached his front door. Afraid of invading your Boss’s privacy, you thought it would be best to knock first. You gave three loud raps on the door, and almost immediately a voice called from inside.

“Come in, the door’s open!” Itto’s voice came from inside. You turned the doorknob, thankful that you didn’t need to use the key that still sat in your back pocket. “I usually leave it unlocked in case anyone wants to stop by!”

“Uhm, is that safe, Mr. Arataki?” You asked, following the sound of his voice and clattering pots and pans to his kitchen. There he was, cooking up a storm. His jacket hung on the back of a chair at his dining table, an apron tied around his waist instead.

“Mr. Arataki? Are you calling me a Mister?” Itto asked, looking up from the stovetop where he seemed to be cooking something. He paused for a moment, then the realization dawned that you were referring to him. “Oh, of course! It must be because I'm the best.”

You laughed, now completely acclimated to Itto’s unusual personality.

“Yes, uhm, Miss Kuki sent me here because you have an important meeting soon,”

“Oh yeah, yeah! Of course, I totally do have a meeting!” Itto waved the cooking spoon he held in his hand. “Uhm, I’m sure they won’t mind if I’m a little late. I made breakfast, after all!”

You glanced over at the mess of pots and pans, only to see two beautifully decorated dishes of Yakisoba bread.

“Here, sit down and have a plate, I’m sure you’ll love it!” Itto untied his apron, showing off his toned back as he reached for the two plates and carried them over to the table. “I call it ‘way of the strong’, it’s the perfect breakfast for champions!”

“You made two servings?” You questioned, staring at the beautiful dish he set down in front of you.

“Uhh, I had extra ingredients, so I thought I should make it all!” Itto responded awkwardly as he settled into the chair beside you. He didn’t want to tell you that he normally ate both servings whenever he cooked himself breakfast.

Without even realizing it, your mouth began to water as you smelled the delicious meal.

“Go ahead, dig in!” Itto encouraged you, waiting eagerly for you to taste his cooking.

As soon as you took your first bite, you began to scarf down the meal as if you hadn’t eaten for a week. The food was delicious. Given Itto’s stupidity he had demonstrated over and over throughout your time working for him, he was somehow an amazing cook, and this fact blew you away.

“Mmmm!” You smiled, your eyes lighting up as you devoured his food.

A smile grew across Itto’s face, despite still chewing on a mouthful of food.

“See, it’s definitely worth being late!” Itto spoke before he swallowed his food, making his words come out muffled.

“Mhm.” You nodded enthusiastically, your mouth also full of food.

~~~

For the next several weeks, you began to form a habit of visiting Itto in the mornings. He was almost always cooking something, and somehow always had extras he insisted you should try. Over time you began to realize being Itto’s assistant wasn’t actually that bad… his strange personality finally began to grow on you.

However, today, you walked into Itto’s house to find it completely silent. There was no cheerful voice welcoming you inside, and no loud sounds coming from the kitchen. This was actually the case for the past couple of days… You would have to find your way up to the bedroom and bang on the door until you heard Itto shout from inside that he was awake.

“Mr. Arataki, you have a meeting soon, please wake up!” You called.

Almost immediately, you heard a loud groan come from the other side of the door.

“I’m up!” Itto’s voice was gravelly, thick with sleep.

This morning routine was far less fun than before. Not to mention, you would have to wait for several minutes before Itto finally emerged from his bedroom, disheveled, hair messy and eyes tired.

“Didn’t sleep well again?” You asked as your gaze scanned down Itto’s body, eyes lingering on the dark circles that grew beneath the Oni’s eyes.

“Y-yeah, I think I didn’t get much sleep.” Itto responded groggily, rubbing his eyes as he followed you out of his house and down the path towards the gang’s meeting room.

“I’ll bring you some Chamomile tea, it normally helps me a lot!” You responded cheerfully.

“Oh, thank you!” Itto gave you a slight smile, but began to pick his pace up. “We’re not too late, are we?”

“I’m sure we’re fine, don’t worry Mr. Arataki.”

~~~

The meeting seemed to begin just fine, although Itto definitely looked more tired and dazed than before. As Shinobu talked through the important details for the week ahead, you raised your arm to ask a question.

“Ms Kuki, will Mr. Arataki be helping-” an abrupt bang interrupted your sentence. You nearly fell out of your seat as you jumped from the noise, but looked over to see that it was Itto who had slammed his hands onto the table all of a sudden. He shot up from his chair then bolted for the door, something seeming to be on his mind.

“Boss?” Shinobu spoke, but Itto was long gone. She sighed as she turned towards you. “Can you go after him and make sure he’s fine?”

“Is it normal for him to act like this?” You questioned. You had noticed that his personality had begun to change recently, but today was completely different than before.

“Actually, we’ve never seen him like this before…” Shinobu responded. “Would you be able to find out what’s going on?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” you stood from the table and bowed before leaving the meeting room and searching for Itto.

You ran down the dirt path, scanning for Itto’s head of messy white hair. You managed to spot him on the path that led to his house, so you picked up the pace and called out to him.

“Mr. Arataki, are you okay?”

Itto seemed to bristle at the sound of your voice, immediately picking up the pace. You began to speed up as well, running after him since you didn’t know what was wrong.

“We just want to know if everything is alright!” You exclaimed, chasing after the Oni who only seemed to pick up his pace even more. Since Itto towered above most people at a shocking seven feet tall, his strides were far longer than yours which made it extremely difficult to keep up. You were a fast runner, but you didn’t know how much longer you could keep this up for.

Before you knew it, you were following Itto up his front steps and into his house. You raced up the stairs after him and watched him run into his bedroom.

Before you had the chance to reach his bedroom door, Itto slammed it shut, the hinges rattling violently against the doorframe.

“Sorry, door!” Itto shouted from inside.

“Is everything okay, Mr. Arataki?” You became more worried as you heard a pained groan from his bedroom.

“Uhhh, I’m fine, I just uhm… forgot to feed my Onikabuto that’s all!” Itto shouted awkwardly, as you heard shuffling and rattling coming from inside his bedroom. You heard the fluttering of bedsheets and the creaking of his bed, and wondered what on Teyvat Itto could be up to in there.

“Oh… Okay, if you’re alright, I’ll just head back then.” You spoke through the closed door, somehow feeling a little unsettled despite Itto’s insistence that he was alright.

The walk back felt strange. As soon as you walked back into the meeting room, everyone’s eyes were on you. Several people accosted you with questions too quickly for you to answer them.

“Is boss okay?”

“I’ve never seen him run out of a meeting like that before!”

“He looked upset!”

“Calm down, everyone, let Y/N speak.” Shinobu interrupted the group. Everyone fell silent as they looked at you, eagerly awaiting your explanation.

“I think Mr. Arataki hasn’t had enough sleep, so he forgot to feed his Onikabuto.” You explained.

“Oh, of course!”

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

“No, not his prized Onikabuto!”

“I’m glad he’s alright!”

Chatter began to fill the room as the tension instantly dissolved at your explanation. The gang members returned to their own conversations, but Shinobu seemed skeptical of your explanation.

“Boss normally sleeps like a baby.” She told you, “There’s probably a reason why he’s not sleeping well. Can you make sure he’s alright? I’ll treat the both of you to Ramen tonight.”

“O-okay, I’ll check on him later.” You responded, a little unsure about how you’d manage to get Itto to leave his room again.

~~~

Now that the sun was sinking lower in the sky, you approached the front door to Itto’s house once again. You needed to get your boss out of the house and make sure he was alright, and you were certain the prospect of Ramen would coerce Itto out of his bedroom easily.

However, as you turned the doorknob to his house, you realized it was actually locked.

In all your weeks of coming over to Itto’s house, his door was always unlocked. He never seemed to care about his own safety, but you figured it was since pretty much no petty criminal or monster had a chance of beating the 7-foot tall Oni stacked with muscle. Not to mention, your boss had very few material possessions – and the ones he actually cared about were his Onikabuto and trading cards.

For the first time, you reached into your pocket and pulled out the house key Shinobu had given you. You unlocked the front door, quietly swinging it open as you stepped inside.

You wondered why the door was locked… peering into the house, everything seemed to be in the same position as always. You crept through the hallway and back up the stairs, noticing Itto’s bedroom door was also closed, meaning he must be inside since Itto never closed doors behind him whenever he would leave.

You knocked on the door gently, calling out to your boss.

“Shinobu says she’ll treat us both to ramen, but only if you get out of bed!” You spoke loudly, reaching over to open the door. You stepped into Itto’s room, only to find that the place was far messier than you had ever seen before. There were feathers and torn pieces of fabric on the floor, evidently the remnants of what was once a pillow. Itto’s jacket was thrown haphazardly on the floor, alongside his gloves and bracelets. His purple shirt had also been thrown across the room, hanging over the windowsill that showed the setting sun outside. But what was likely the most striking difference was the rather large hole in the far wall, that looked like someone had simply punched through the wooden boards of the Inazuman home.

You disregarded this, instead striding over to the mountain of blankets on top of Itto’s bed. You could tell he was in there – one of his horns had poked a hole through the blanket.

“Come on, Mr. Arataki, get out of bed!” You reached towards the blankets, hearing him whine from under the covers.

“I don’t wanna…” He complained, grabbing the edge of his blanket and pulling it tighter around him.

You sighed, fed up with his unusual behavior.

“Fine, then. I’ll just drag you out of bed myself.” You grabbed onto Itto’s wrist, yanking him away from the bed with all your might. You weren’t weak, but Itto was a huge Oni, and it took all your strength just to slide him off the bed.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Itto shouted as he slipped off of the bed, arms flailing and knocking you off balance. “Stop, Y/N!”

You stumbled backwards, caught off balance by Itto’s sudden movements. You fell backwards onto the floor, followed by the Oni who landed on top of you with a loud crash.

You squeezed your eyes shut, expecting to be crushed by Itto’s heavy body, but he somehow managed to land with his hands and knees on either side of your body, catching his torso before it could fall on top of yours.

“Hey!” You blurted out, looking up at Itto’s face that burned bright red. He seemed to be out of breath, his chest heaving as he stared back down at you.

“A-ah I- I’m sorry!” Itto stuttered, his face reddening further. “I- I- don’t know what’s going on-”

That’s when you could feel it.

Something inside his pants was pressing against your thigh, and it was definitely not his leg. It twitched slightly, and Itto let out a whimper at the same time. Your eyes went wide as you realized you were feeling his dick.

Itto saw the look on your face, and his gaze immediately shifted to the floor.

“I- I’m sorry, normally this just happens when I need to pee in the mornings but now it’s happening all the time and for some reason I can’t pee it’s so bad it hurts and I can’t get it to go down I don’t know what to do or how to stop it from hurting it’s making me go crazy and sometimes I can’t even think at all it hurts so bad-”

Your jaw dropped open as you realized what Itto was saying through his nervous mumbling.

“A Rut…” You murmured, glancing around his room. It all made sense now.

“A what?” Itto questioned, his voice cracking.

“I think you’re in a rut.” You stated matter-of-factly. “Have you ever had this before? How long have you been feeling like this?”

“N-no, never! It’s been like this for almost a week… but it’s getting worse and worse I don’t know what to do-”

“A week?! And you… don’t know what to do?” You raised an eyebrow at Itto’s explanation. Firstly, from what little you knew about the subject, you understood that only a few unsatiated days would drive anyone in a state like his insane. But secondly, Itto sounded like he had no idea what was even going on with his body. “Like, you don’t know what to do when your dick is hard?”

“What do you mean? You’re supposed to wait until it goes away.” Itto spoke bluntly, and you stared up at him in disbelief.

“Mr. Arataki, do you really think it’s gonna go away this time if you just wait?” You felt his member pulse against your leg.

“N-not when you say my name like that,” Itto whined, “I don’t know why it keeps making it worse.”

You began to blush fiercely at his statement. Itto hung his head, groaning from the pain he was subjecting himself to. Did he really enjoy the way you said his name like that… all this time?

And… Why were you happy he liked it that much?

You opened your mouth to speak, but you suddenly became flustered as you thought about what you were going to say.

“Boss…” you called, and Itto’s ruby gaze lifted to meet yours. “Do you want me to help you? I can show you how to uhm…” Your gaze traveled to his dick that was straining against his pants. “Help it.”

“Yes, please, anything to help me!” Itto nearly cried with desperation as he begged.

“Are you sure?” you asked, your tone serious. “You have to be sure.”

“I’m sure, please Y/N, I’m completely sure!”

At his confirmation, you rubbed your leg against Itto’s painfully hard member. A pleasure-filled whine escaped his lips, surprising the both of you and sending heat straight to your core.

“W-why does it feel so good,” Itto groaned, gasping as you began to rub your leg back and forth.

“You’re telling me that you’ve never jerked yourself off before?” You asked bluntly.

“N-no, touching it is inappropriate!” Itto cried, realizing that what you were doing to him was dirty. “B-but why does it feel so good?”

“If you want me to stop, tell me.” You stated frankly, your thigh continuing to stroke him through his pants.

“N-no…” Itto murmured, squeezing his eyes shut and dropping his head. “Keep going…”

“Okay.” You hooked your fingers around his collar, dragging his head down so your lips could meet his.

“Mmh!” Itto groaned, his dick twitching against your thigh as his lips mashed against yours. Your lips caught on one of his sharp canines, eliciting a moan from yourself.

Itto had no clue what he was doing. He knew that people kissed, but he didn’t know it was anything more than putting your lips on top of someone else’s. So when your tongue slipped past his lips and began to roam his mouth, his arms began to shake.

Itto tried his best not to fall over as he moved his arms to rest his elbows on either side of your head. He was glad he did it when you began to slide one hand down his stomach until it reached his waistband. He felt like he was going to fall over as he felt you fumble with his belt. Somehow you managed to undo it while also exploring his mouth with your tongue.

Itto let out a low-pitched moan as he felt your hand slip into his pants, your cold fingers sliding down and wrapping around his cock. Itto seemed to malfunction as you stroked up and down his length. He broke from the kiss, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes as he moaned.

“Haah… o-oh my…shit Y/N, it’s so go~od…”

“Too good?” You asked, loosening your grip and slowing your movements.

“N-no!!” Itto snapped his head up to look at you, his eyes filled with fear of the possibility of you stopping whatever magic you were doing to him. “Keep- keep going…please…” Itto trailed off into a whisper, but was swiftly cut off with a loud gasp as you touched him again, beginning to push his hips into your hand almost instinctively.

“Okay, follow my lead.” You began to sit up, pushing Itto until he was sitting upright on the floor with his back against his bed frame. You began to loosen his belt, unzipping his pants and carefully freeing his member. No matter how careful you were, once it escaped his pants it slapped against his stomach, eliciting yet another hitched breath from the poor Oni’s mouth.

You stared at what you had just released – you could feel its large size from when you held it inside his pants, but only now were you able to see the red markings that wove its way from his lower stomach down to the tip of his angry, hard, and already leaking cock. You had never seen an Oni’s manhood before… despite the intimidating size, it was beautiful.

“Ngh…” Itto groaned as you closed your hand around him, stroking up and down his length. “...Feels so good…”

You trailed your gaze up to Itto’s face, where he was struggling between eagerly watching your movements with his eyes, and shutting them to fall fully into the incredible sensation. Itto’s half-lidded crimson eyes met with yours as you continued, your hand gripping tighter and pumping faster. You could feel his dick twitch as he panted from the pleasure.

“So, this is what you do when it gets this way.” You spoke calmly, ignoring the wetness that grew in your own underwear.

“Aahh…” Itto gasped, “Why did nobody tell me this?”

“It’s something you should really figure out on your own, dumbass.” You smirked as you shifted in your seat. You pressed your thighs together, trying not to reveal that you were also getting turned on.

Itto groaned louder, leaning his head backwards to rest on top of his bed. You could feel his dick pulsating harder… The Oni squeezed his eyes shut, panting harder, confused about this new feeling that seemed to send stars into his vision.

“S-something’s happening, w-wait- FUCK!” Itto exclaimed, his chest shuddering as he felt something build up in his lower abdomen. It was good – almost too good. He dug his fingernails into the wooden floor, leaving deep scratches with his sharp nails.

“It’s okay, let it happen.” You spoke soothingly, giving a couple fast pumps before Itto climaxed into your hand.

Thick and hot ropes of white burst from Itto’s swollen cock, the member twitching and throbbing like nothing the poor Oni had ever experienced before. He moaned, his voice quivering, tears pricking at his eyes from the intense pleasure.

It took him several seconds to regain his senses; you tried not to touch his overly-sensitive member as cum continued to spill from it in short spurts. It was a surprisingly large amount; but then again, Itto wasn’t exactly human.

“A-ah, I’m sorry…” Itto whimpered as he picked his head up to meet your eyes. “I don’t know what that was…”

“It’s called an orgasm, and this is cum.” You spoke, holding up your hand covered in white. “It’s a normal thing for… adults to do.”

“An orgasm?” Itto spoke in disbelief. “It felt like I died and went to heaven.”

You laughed. “That’s what orgasms feel like, dummy.”

“I wanna do it again.” Itto spoke, and that’s when you noticed his ruby eyes still half-lidded with desire. “Holy shit… You smell so good… how did I not notice it before..?”

Your thighs squeezed together at Itto’s statement.

“Wh- I smell good?” You stuttered, your eyes drifting down to his cock that was still standing completely erect. He began to push himself away from the bed to lean closer to you, dipping his head down to your neck to take a deep breath in.

“I don’t know what it is…” Itto murmured, “you smell like, really good.”

Your eyes widened as you looked down at your lap. You realized he could smell your arousal.

“Please, can you keep going?” Itto’s voice was barely more than a whisper, but his pleas sent heat straight to your core.

“I suppose…” You trailed off, staring down at his still-swollen manhood. “I could show you something more.”

“More?” Itto asked, bringing his head back to look you in the eyes. “There’s more?”

You laughed, still in shock that Itto, one of the hottest men you’ve ever seen, could be this clueless when it came to sex.

“Yes, of course there’s more. There’s endless things you can do when it comes to sex.”

“Sex? Like the bad word?” Itto questioned.

“Yes, this is what it means.” You responded, surprised by your ability to remain stoic. You wrapped your hand back around his cock, stroking Itto with his own climax.

“Ahh, it feels even better-” Itto whined, “Why does it feel even better-”

“Because now it’s wet.” You spoke plainly, listening to the squelching noises you made with your hand.

“Nghh…” Itto began to shift his hips, trying to buck into your hand.

“Tsk tsk,” you released your grip. “Stay still. Let me guide you.”

“O-okay,” Itto agreed, settling back onto the floor so you could continue stroking him. You used your free hand to fumble with the bottom half of your clothing, undoing your buttons and buckles. As you began to peel off your clothes one-handedly, the smell of your arousal hit him like a truck.

“W-what are you doing?” Itto whined, staring at the skin of your upper thighs that you had revealed.

“I think this might feel a lot better for you.” You spoke. “Do you want to try putting it inside me?”

“Wait, wait.” Itto’s eyes widened. “It’s not gonna hurt you, is it?”

“Not if we do it slowly.” You responded, taking your hand off of Itto’s member to slide your undergarments off of your legs.

Itto held back a whimper as you crawled closer to him – he could feel the heat radiating off of your skin and smell the salty-sweet scent of your arousal. You began to straddle his hips, lowering your core until your lips met the tip of his leaking cock.

“Now tell me if you want to stop.” You spoke, surprising yourself with how calm you were acting. Ever since you saw his manhood, you had wanted it inside of you. You craved it so badly, you didn’t know if you’d be able to hold back if he told you no.

Itto nodded, staring down at your bare legs, digging his nails into the wooden floor even more to avoid digging them into the plush of your thighs. He didn’t know where these aggressive, lewd, lustful thoughts were coming from – but he couldn’t stop them.

“Ah-!” Itto’s eyes went wide as you began to sink down onto his dick. You were so hot, so wet, and you squeezed him like nothing else as your pussy slowly began to stretch around his length.

You let out the faintest whimper at the stretching sensation, not used to anything near his size. It bordered on painful, but you were so turned on that you had to stop yourself from pushing too far too soon. Itto’s ears pricked at the sound, the sensation going straight to his erection.

“A- are you okay?” Itto groaned, trying his best to remain calm as you sank down onto him.

“Y-yeah, it feels good.” You blushed, sinking slightly further down. It already felt like he was filling you completely, but you knew you weren’t even halfway down his length.

Itto stared down at his dick, watching you swallow more and more of it as you sank down. It was so warm, so wet, he thought he might already orgasm again.

You felt like you couldn’t fit any more of him in despite only having half of his length inside you – you felt too full, and it was getting difficult to continue to slide down over the widest part in the middle of his shaft. You decided to stop there, shifting your legs to kneel comfortably on the floor. You began to move back up, until only the tip remained inside. Itto watched you, his ruby eyes fixed on your heat, staring at the strings of slick you left behind on him. What he didn’t expect, however, was for you to start moving up and down on him.

“Hnn, ahh,” Itto panted, pleasure building up all too fast from how you moved, making him enter you over and over again. It felt like he was being swallowed up by the heat radiating from your pussy.

You began to move faster, bouncing off of your heels to keep up your momentum. Itto’s pants turned into moans and whines as he gripped onto the bed frame behind him in an attempt to avoid bucking his hips up into you. You had told him to stay still, and he would do his best to stay still.

You could feel your own climax begin to build as you moved – it got harder and harder to keep up your pace, your head clouding with lust from the sensation of being stretched and filled over and over. Your legs began to shake as you tried to continue, your stamina running low, pleasure beginning to take over your body.

“Ah, it’s gonna happen again-” Itto whimpered, the corners of his eyes wrinkling as he struggled to maintain his composure. Itto’s desperation made you smirk. You didn’t realize you could have such a huge and strong Oni quivering so helplessly below you. Trying your best to keep moving, you bounced over and over until you couldn’t suppress your own moans anymore.

With a cry, Itto’s hands flew up to your thighs, his nails biting into the fat of your thighs. He couldn’t help it anymore; he came hard, his cock pulsating as it unloaded inside of you.

You could feel the warmth spreading inside you. His load was huge; it made you shudder, pushing you further towards your own climax.

“Ahh- Mr. Arataki, not inside…” You whined, realizing that you probably should have told him to not finish inside of you. But for some reason, you found it pleasurable – you enjoyed the sensation of his hot release filling you.

“A-ah, I’m sorry!” Itto’s eyes grew wide as his face turned bright red, his grip loosening as he began to lift you up and off of him.

“I-it’s okay.” You spoke, whimpering at the empty sensation he left inside you, “It’s already done.” You moved your hands to cover Itto’s that were placed on your thighs.

“O-oh,” Itto murmured, “that’s good, because I don’t wanna stop just yet…” He lifted his hips slightly, pushing back inside of you.

“Aah, again?” You gasped at the sensation of being filled again.

“O-only if you want to!” Itto stopped moving, his gaze snapping to meet yours, worried that he was hurting or upsetting you. You began to chuckle. You haven’t orgasmed yet, but you were close, and Itto’s hesitation was beginning to drive you crazy.

“Of course I want to continue, dumbass.”

“Oh, o-okay!” Itto nodded, “C-can I move, this time?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed a little too loudly as you collapsed and rested all your weight onto Itto’s hips. With the load of cum inside you and the sex you just had, you were able to slide slightly lower down Itto’s length.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Itto asked, worried about the way you seemed to squirm on his dick.

“Yes, I’m fine…” You spoke, staring at him through half-lidded eyes. “It feels really good for me too.”

“O-okay. I’ll try to go slow…” Itto could feel himself twitch inside of you at the sound of your voice. The way you told him it felt good turned him on far too much. He wanted to move so desperately, to just go wild and pummel into you like you were a ragdoll. However, he knew he would only hurt you if he did that. And so, with as much restraint as he could muster, he slowly pushed his hips up into you and then back out.

“If you keep up a rhythm like I did, it feels goo-” You were caught off guard as Itto picked up his pace to match what you had done before. “-aah~”

You closed your eyes, the pleasure stealing away your vision. As Itto began to thrust deeper and deeper into you, he began to reach a part of you that you never thought existed. The pleasure built up in your core and made you feel like you could pass out. You had finally taken in all of him, the Oni bottoming out with each thrust, his inhuman size completely filling you.

You lost control of your speech – gasps and moans left your mouth that you would be humiliated of in any other situation. Yet somehow, Itto found the noises you made so enticing… he didn’t know why, but it felt like you were urging him on to go faster and faster.

“Hng! A-ahn, hahh~” You couldn’t focus on anything as Itto continued his rhythm. He squeezed your thighs harder, his hips slapping against the plush of your ass with each thrust. He looked down, watching himself enter you over and over, eyeing the strings of cum that slipped out of you and began to make a mess on his pants and the floor.

“F-fuck, Y/N-” Itto gasped, “You’re so…”

You could feel your own climax encroaching, and you began to lose control over your balance. You didn’t know why… but your hands flew up to grab onto the horns on his head.

“-Aah, fuck!” Itto cried, not knowing why his horns were so sensitive – or why they felt so good when you held onto them. He tried his best to continue at the pace he started but everything you did seemed to push him to just let loose.

The pressure in your core, the snap of Itto’s hips against your ass, and the iron grip of his hands on your thighs sent you over the edge. You wailed as you came hard, your walls convulsing around his cock like nothing you felt before.

“Fuckfuckfuck Y/N you’re squeezing me too hard-” Itto cried, gasping at the sudden tightness around him. He couldn’t move anymore; your orgasm was constricting him too much. He fell still, resting your hips on top of his own. In the throes of your orgasm, you had finally been able to take all of him, now settling down at the bottom of his shaft. You felt like all your energy was gone as you slumped forwards against Itto’s chest.

“Ahn, Itto… so good…” You hummed, resting your head against his soft chest, almost forgetting that you were still inside him and that he was still very turned on. Your grip around the Oni’s horns loosened, your arms falling down to your sides.

“W-wait what happened, are you alright?” Itto asked, his voice reverberating through his chest as he spoke, his ruby eyes scanning over your body to see if anything was wrong.

“No, ‘m fine…” You murmured. “Just had an orgasm too…”

“Oh-” Itto’s mouth formed an o-shape, his eyes widening as he realized what had just happened. “D-does it feel good for you too?”

“So good…” You hummed, your head resting on his chest.

Itto released his grip on your thighs, wrapping his arms around your torso and carefully standing up while still inside you. He turned carefully and set you down on the bed, trying his best not to hurt you in the process.

“Can I… continue?” Itto asked, and you gazed up at the Oni who stood above you. You nodded, and he slowly began to pull out of you.

An empty feeling began to take over you as you watched him pull his entire length out of you. It was coated in a thick and white mixture of his cum and yours, but you realized something that shocked you – he seemed to be even bigger than before, despite cumming twice already. On top of that, he seemed to be all too eager to continue, making you wonder just what kind of libido an Oni might have while in his rut.

“You smell… so good…” Itto began to bend down, his head dipping between your legs as he smelled your leaking cunt.

“A-ah, Itto, not there-” Your sentence was cut off by a moan as you felt his wet tongue slide across your entrance. Itto licked a strip up your lips, gathering the mixture of climaxes in his mouth, the taste and smell going straight to his head.

“H-hey!” You grabbed both of his horns, pulling his head away from your pussy. When you saw the slick running down his chin and the lust in his eyes you realized the smell of sex must be some sort of aphrodisiac for him.

“I want more…” The white-haired Oni whined, sending a fierce blush across your face and turning you on again.

“Me too…” you responded, beginning to get up from where you laid on the bed. You rolled over and got onto all fours, showing Itto a new view of your entrance. You reached one hand back, fingers probing gently at your entrance, putting yourself on display for him. “Here, you can put it-”

Itto didn’t seem to need instruction. He pressed his engorged cock into you again, the sensation of being speared open by something so huge cutting off your sentence with a gasp. He wasted no time pressing further, fully sheathing himself inside of you within seconds.

“Ahn, Itto~” You moaned, shocked that you could take something his size just like that. “S-so big…”

As Itto began to move, attempting to replicate the same pace as before, you felt fuller and fuller. He hadn’t been moving for long when you realized your arms and legs were already shaking. His hands subconsciously went to your hips, and you were thankful for the support as you leaned into his grip.

Itto’s hips began to make noise as they snapped against your ass, the skin-on-skin slapping growing wetter and wetter. Somehow, despite being completely inexperienced, Itto was excellent at holding his pace – so excellent that you couldn’t maintain your composure. As he fucked into you, your arms failed. You fell face-first onto his bed, your shoulders and chest resting on the soft mattress. Your back was now arched as Itto continued to hold your hips in the same place before.

You let out a garbled moan as Itto lifted your hips and pulled you backwards, your legs now dangling off the side of the bed so he could enter you more easily. Your ass was now facing the ceiling; this angle made your eyes roll back in your head.

Your head was so clouded with lust that you couldn’t spare a thought to wonder how Itto could do this with no experience whatsoever; neither of you knew just how much his Oni instincts were taking over. He relentlessly pounded into you again and again, losing all restraint. It felt so good. The sounds of skin slapping on skin, the wet sounds of his cock bullying into your pussy, and your moans mixed together into a lewd symphony inside his head that made him want to keep going and going.

Itto panted as he neared another climax, completely unaware that he was pushing you towards yours as well. You wailed, the sensation of being filled to the brim over and over sending stars into your vision. He had begun to thrust harder; the impact of his hips against your ass would send you flying if it wasn’t for his iron grip on your upper thighs.

As Itto reached the precipice of orgasm, you could feel him swell. The Oni moved his hands, using one arm to hook under your hips as he planted his other palm on the mattress beside your head. His movements fell still as he bent down and placed his lips against the nape of your neck. You felt a sharp pinch – Itto had bitten into your delicate skin, his fangs drawing blood. At the same time, however, you felt his cock swell and twitch as something warm spread inside you; he had bitten you at the same time that he came.

His lips remained planted firmly on your neck, eliciting a moan of both pain and pleasure from you. After a few moments, Itto began to move again, stirring the cum inside of you. You whimpered at the feeling, surprised at how animalistic he was acting.

Itto released you, leaning back and slowly removing his length from you. You could feel a thick liquid leaking out of your entrance and hear it dripping onto the mattress, as Itto finally set you down on the bed and rolled you over onto your back.

You stared up at the Oni, noticing the red tinge to his lips that you could only guess was your own blood. His hair was even more unruly than normal, and his expression was glazed over with desire. He didn’t utter a single word as he grabbed your thighs once again, the sharp edges of his nails digging painfully into your flesh.

He pushed your thighs up and against your chest, exposing your abused entrance yet again. You glanced down at Itto’s member – it was even bigger than before, particularly towards the middle.

“Hahhh- Itto, will that even fi-” You were cut off again as he bullied his way into your cunt, filling you completely, hitting a very different spot inside of you. “Ahn, Itto!”

You didn’t have any time to adjust to the new, better feeling. His thrusts were fast, needy, hard. He pummeled into you relentlessly, pressing your knees into your chest harder, his nails digging into the fat of your thighs. Your moans began to turn into screams of pleasure. You’ve never felt this way before – and never expected to feel this way from someone who was a complete virgin. Your body shook as his hips snapped against your ass, the movements needy and hungry.

“Itto~ Aah!” You cried, tears welling up in your eyes from the overstimulation. You came hard, almost too hard for you to handle, the avalanche of pleasure combined with Itto’s unrelenting movements forcing fat tears to roll down your face as you wailed. Your walls clenched around him, but he continued pummeling into you without any indication of stopping.

There was something feral about the way Itto moved, his grunts as he thrusted, the wild look in his eyes. You had never seen someone with this kind of stamina, with this kind of animalistic desire. You gasped as you felt him grow even larger, a bulge beginning to grow at the base of his length, stretching you further as it popped in and out of you wetly. It grew bigger until it became stuck inside you, Itto no longer being able to pull his engorged cock out of your abused pussy. You were stretched so tightly around it that nothing escaped, even his final release.

Itto groaned as he came and his movements finally fell still. He collapsed on top of you, his arms landing on either side of your body to prevent his weight from crushing you. He unloaded a final time inside of you, his member twitching as hot ropes of cum painted your insides, this time trapped inside of you by the huge knot at the base.

“Hahhh… ‘m so tired…” Itto sighed, his hot breath blowing across your neck. He buried his face into the nape of your neck where he had bitten you, pressing his lips gently against the bleeding bite mark.

“W-what was that,” You murmured, staring up at the ceiling as you finally came down from your high..

“Dunno…” Itto mumbled, “but now I can’t pull it out… ‘n I’m sleepy…”

The Oni relaxed and you felt more of his weight shift on top of you. His breathing became more even, and it sounded to you like he had just fallen asleep.

“I-Itto?” You whispered, looking to the side to see his eyes peacefully closed.

It was weirdly characteristic of your boss to pass out on top of you after fucking you silly.

You smiled to yourself, finally closing your eyes as well.

‘I suppose I’ll have to apologize to Miss Kuki tomorrow…’ You thought to yourself as you drifted off.

~~~

The next morning, you woke up in a different position. You were underneath heaps of blankets, wrapped in something very soft and warm. You opened your eyes to see that you were inside Itto’s (pretty much destroyed) bedroom. The clothes you were wearing – if you could call it that – were hanging off of you like rags. You didn’t realize the sex you had the previous evening was that crazy. There were bite marks and scratches that littered what skin was visible above the blankets, and you dreaded seeing how you felt once you started walking.

You shifted in place, and heard a loud creak. you looked down to see the bed was sloped at an unusual angle, evidence that the entire bed frame had been broken. You looked around to see scraps of yours and Itto’s clothes littered across the floor. You tried sitting up to get a better look, but felt something slightly tighten around you as you moved. That was when you realized Itto was sleeping behind you, his arms wrapped around your torso, hugging you close to his chest. You turned your head to see his serene face, feeling his messy yet soft hair tickle your face and neck.

You smiled. Arataki Itto really was a good guy, no matter how dumb. You decided it was likely a good idea to slip out before he woke up, since there’d be no doubt he would feel bad for what he did to you last night if he was awake to see the state of your body. Besides, you had to somehow get home and shower before you needed to turn up for work.

You began to shift slightly, figuring out a good angle to slip out of his grasp and inch out of bed.

“Don’t go…” Itto murmured, his voice raspy and deep from sleep. It was as if he could sense you were trying to leave, even though he wasn’t fully awake – he hadn’t even opened his eyes yet.

“H-huh?” you stuttered, confused. You believed you were only there to help him with his… unique problem. So when Itto held you close the next morning, you didn’t understand why.

“I like you a lot… I've liked you since I first laid eyes on you.” Itto finally opened his eyes, giving you a soft smile. Your gaze traveled up to meet his sleepy ruby eyes.

“You mean when I stopped you from eating beans?” You scoffed, but you couldn’t stop the smile that grew across your face.

“Yeah, you saved my life! How could I not fall head over heels for you?”

“You do realize that I’d already been working for you for like… three weeks when that happened.” You quipped.

“Hey, that was the first time I noticed you!” Itto whined, and you never expected to say the words that came out of your mouth next.

“Well, I’m glad you finally noticed me.” You moved one hand up to run your fingers through his unruly hair. “And I like you too.”

You laid a sweet peck on his forehead then retreated back under the covers, nuzzling your face into Itto’s chest and closing your eyes again. Work could wait.

~~~

Bonus: The Previous Night

Kuki Shinobu hadn’t heard from you in a couple hours. It was beginning to get dark, and she wondered if you had given up on trying to get Itto to leave his room. She decided to turn up at his house and check to see if he was still there.

As she approached the house, she could hear strange sounds coming from the upstairs window that happened to be completely open. Itto’s purple undershirt was hanging out of the window, and a dim light came from inside… Shinobu knew that meant Itto must be at home. However, as she got closer, she could hear someone else inside.

“Ahn, Itto~”

That sounded like your voice… she wondered why you would still be at his house, when you told her you would go fetch Itto hours ago. However, your voice sounded a little unusual.

“S-so big…” Your voice sounded more like a moan, and Shinobu’s eyes went round with shock as she heard Itto speak next.

“A-ah, Y/N you feel so good!”

Shinobu had to slap a hand over her mouth to stop her from making a noise of death. She spun on her heels and ran away, completely scarred by what she just heard her boss exclaim.

‘Well, at least I know Boss is alright now…’ She thought to herself, nauseated at the thought of what he and you were likely doing right now.

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