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tteokdoroki · 1 year

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ೀ⋆OCT 3RD MEAN GIRLS ━━ katsuki bakugou + free use !

୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. katsuki bakugou + free use. on october third, he asked you what day it was. btw, in girl world, halloween is the only time of the year when katsuki bakugou can slut girls out and no one can say anything about it. boo, you whore! (4.9K)

୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, characters aged up to 20s, college!au, free use, dub-con, cum-play, voyeurism, humiliation, manipulation, dacryphilia, no prep, public sex(ish), unprotected sex, suprise guest appearance from shouto as aaron samuels, fem!reader, reigina george coded!bakugou.

୨୧ — director’s note. "it's october third." and you know what that means! another nasty kinktober fic for you all! i hope you enjoy this one, its probably my favourite...because uh hello!? reigina george and bakugou? name a more iconic duo! anyways enjoy mwah! - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧

halloween is the only time of the year where anyone can dress like a slut and not get called one for it.

in the world of the conventionally attractive (or the plastics), the kings and queens of the social jungle, it means ditching the guts and gore in favour of skin tight lingerie with a little fake blood that drips calculatedly through the valley between your breasts — just for a little bit of added attention. it’s the one night of the year where self-objectification becomes acceptable, and you by all means, were not planning on missing out.

for you, a well spent Halloween consisted of tooth rotting candy corn, bad movies and trying to avoid the feeling of fomo (fear of missing out, fyi) building up like fluid in the lungs of a sick person. you’ve been an a-grade loser all your life and you’ve never had the chance to experience a proper friend group, high school, (and now) college experience.

however this year would be different. this year you would be ditching loser-ville for boobs and bunny ears and the shortest dress you could find. because you finally had a friendship group who did these kinds of things and you had an invite to the biggest festive rager hosted by the hottest guy on campus — shouto todoroki.

the rest of your friend group, the college renowned plastics, had warned you not to get involved with the half and half campus jock. he already had relations to your beloved ring leader, katsuki bakugou, and your involvement would be breaking several laws of girl and guy code — according to dumb blonde kaminari (he swears he has ESPN or something). katsuki was the head of U.A. university, ruling over the entire student body with an iron fist, an attitude so mean you’re sure you’ve seen professors cry and a glare so sinister he could turn milk sour if he tried hard enough.

bakugou was the definition of the picture perfect guy and he knew it. it was almost as if his face had been ripped straight from a vogue magazine, his shoulders broad, waist slutty and tiny, abs to die for too — you’d be a liar to say you hadn’t thought about him a few times before bed. katsuki was a king bee (if bees could even have kings) and you were a nobody lucky enough to have been indoctrinated into his group of flawless friends — taken under the guidance of his wing.

your own friends had told you not to fall for the glitz and the glamour that seemed to follow the barbie blonde everywhere he went. but you couldn’t help it, you were enamoured by everything that katsuki did — turned a blind eye to his bitchy persona and twisted mindset. you hardly believed the rumours about him, blissfully ignoring the truth behind the gossip because katsuki was nice to you. just the other night he had been kind enough to offer his help in setting you up with shouto. even if kirishima had tattle told on you.

regardless, katsuki had your back — you knew that. he was even talking to shouto right now, admist the full swing of the halloween party. how could anyone ever hate bakugou? he was so kind, so considerate, treating you like family from the moment you got here. you see shouto look your way fondly as they chatter about you, his lips curling perfectly around your name while he sends you a wave that makes you feel like the only girl in the world.

“she likes you, yanno.” the shorter blonde purrs, the corner of his perfectly plump lips twitching up into a knowing grin. he says your name, glowering at the way his ex perks up at the mention.

shouto blinks slow, mismatched eyes filling with affection the longer he looks at you awkwardly swaying to music you’ve never heard before. “yeah? she does?”

“it’s adorable, really. she writes your fuckin’ name in the corner of her notes with little hearts. even has the name of your future brats written in a cute little list.” the lie slips from bakugou easily, as if manipulating people is second nature to him.

“don’t bother with that, katsuki.”

when todoroki’s gaze on you lingers for too long, he kicks it up a notch pressing the head of his body into his ex’s side. “listen, half ‘n half,” with his eyes dark and sensual, the blonde allows his voice to slip into deeper, more mocking tones — playing up this innocent act. one that shouto falls for every time. “i know that she can be a little fuckin’ weird but, she’s my friend…so be nice, yeah?”

men are such fickle creatures — for all it takes is a pair of sweltering, red puppy dog eyes to drag the jock under his spell. shouto nods slowly, his own topaz and granite eyes glossing over with some form of obedience, a loyalty to bakugou that no one else would understand. “yeah, alright.”

“good,” bakugou purrs, the sound causing his brain to short circuit. “such’a good friend, half ‘n half.” the tail end of his words are replaced by the sloppy sound effect of his lips on shouto’s, tongues beginning to clash and hands possessively gripping waists.

your rose-tinted window shatters at the sight.

background conversation falls away as your friend and your crush begin to make out right in front of your fucking eyes. “you know who’s looking fine tonight, neito monoma.” kaminari squeals, shimmying in his little mouse costume.

“denki, that’s your cousin.” kirishima frowns.

the blonde shrugs. “yeah! but he’s my first cousin…that’s not right is it,”

you don’t have time to dwell on their chit chat — you feel like someone has thrown your entire body out of whack. you feel like you’re drowning as the realisation hits, katsuki bakugou doesn’t give a shit about you or your feelings. storming away from the scene, you make for the nearest bedroom, hurt and confusion swirling around in the tightness of your chest.

“what are you doin’ in here sweetness? ‘minari and kirishima have been looking everywhere for ya.”

you’re still crying like a sore loser when the king of the plastics finds you hauled up in one of shouto’s many rooms. and you hate that it’s katsuki who’s come to comfort you, sitting beside you on the queen sized bed as his hand slips over your bare thigh.

but you shrug him off, barely keeping your cool. after all, you’re still mad at him for making out with your crush. “don’t touch me, katsuki.” you snarl, doing your best to sound menacing. “i saw what you did. how could you? i thought we were friends?”

he clicks his tongue, ruby red eyes rolling as if he gives a fuck. “oh, you mean that thing with icyhot?” you don’t understand how the blonde can be so nonchalant, tossing around the situation as if it weighs nothing — costing not an ounce of your feelings. “he came onto me, sweetness. i’d never do somethin’ like that to you.”

denying katsuki bakugou is never an easy feat, he’s a man that knows where his strengths lie. in the deep timber of his rumbling voice and those eyes, with the blood lust curled around each of his pupils. katsuki is a well trained hunter, and on this occasion, you are his prey. a large hand smooths over the meaty swell of your trembling thigh, pushing the likely pair wide open for him to make room between them. “i’m a good friend, r’member?”

his hands roam your blistering hot body, gripping and grabbing at your flesh from over your costume — it feels good, you feel wanted and melt like a lump of butter in a pan at every cascading touch of his.

you’d be smart to come to your senses, before you’re snapped up in the unrelenting jaws of a hunter. but you’re entranced by those insanely red eyes, the perfect slant to his lips and all-knowing smile — it’d be useless to escape when you’ve fallen this deep. “you’re not…” your bottom lip wobbles, the achy feeling in your chest now submissive to the liquid lust katsuki has spent months conditioning you to feel. “you’re a bad friend.”

“d’aw…you don’t think i am?” dropping his tone into a sultry coo, bakugou leans in real close and you instinctively follow the tilt of his head. he looms over you, just enough so that you can see the smear of pink eyeshadow across his eyelids, the plasticky glisten of lip gloss masking the true colour of his plump lips, along with the spark of lust swirling through the brown flecks in his eyes.

you shake your head no. “no, you’re not.” big mistake.

the of temperature of the room rises just from his proximity and you find yourself willing to let the king of the plastics swallow you whole. “i don’t think i like the way yer talkin’ to me, sweets.” he growls darkly and in warning. “i should make you apologise for bein’ so fuckin’ mean.”

his breath is warm and wet against your cheek, grip rough on your waist and you can’t help but think how mean he is to you. katsuki gaslights you like it’s second nature or another one of his five senses, manipulates you with ease, putting himself on you when you know you can’t say no. because without him you would have been in social suicide, you wouldn’t have any friends, you wouldn’t have had the college experience. you would have just been ordinary.

“gimme a kiss, gorgeous.” the blonde bites down on your lower tip, tugging it away from you because he misses the metallic taste of golden blood on you — the taste of blossoming obedience in your bloodstream.

you push back, but it’s no use — bakugou’s closing the gap before your brain can even catch up, fizzing like candied pop rocks while you sink further into debauchery.

“c’mon…” he forces his tongue past the seams of your lips, bursting through with only the darkest of intentions. you briefly seize up, because your body knows this isn’t what you want, at least not 100%. but katsuki knows how to work stubborn, prude little things like you — squeezing down on your waist heartily as he leads you into a stupid-drunk kiss. “that’s it, there we go…good fuckin’ girl.”

the world tilts on its axis and you grow lightheaded at the blonde’s praise — you should be mad at him for kissing your crush but at the same time, you’ve never wanted someone so bad. mewling against his watermelon and alcohol flavoured lips is like sealing your fate, giving up little pieces of yourself just to appease your ring leader.

“katsuki, i don’t—“

his thumb digs into your cheeks, preventing you from pulling away — not that you’d want to. wet sounds from your kisses vibrate through you and cause a twinge in the heartbeat between your thighs. “i wasn’t askin’, i was tellin’.” he grunts into your drooling mouth, wide open to echo your sweet and pliant voice. it’s with those words that you remember your place, being a plastic requires sacrifices — for you to give up pieces of yourself in order to stay by katsuki’s side.

including letting him use your mind, body and soul freely.

“so fuckin’ pretty when you’re obedient for me,” he’s snarls, hot under the collar and eager to steal more from you. he grins at how your eyes roll back just from a couple of half-hearted words. leaning back, katsuki shrugs off his shirt, revealing his perfectly carved hips and washboard abs, golden skin that only the gods could have blessed him with. the sight of him is enough to make your quivering cunt deep juices into the crotch of your panties. “let’s get back at sho, huh? for playin’ us both.”

the lines of morality and dissoluteness are often blurred when you’re with him — you become a vessel for his pleasure and you don’t even think to mind. somewhere amidst the messy, sensual lip locks bated breaths, katsuki has managed to get you onto your back and tear through your skimpy little halloween costume to suck his claim into your neck. painting you with deep mauve and midnight blue hues. his eyes dilate, roaring obsidian black taking over his mean, rage filled red eyes in a way that lets you know how bad he wants to fuck you.

it’s when the sharp edges of his canines graze your pulse point that you remember just how much of a wild jungle college is. you remember that katsuki has the ability to make your life a living hell, the power to take a bite and rip your throat out at any second. in this world, you are nothing but a meek gazelle and katsuki bakugou the lion ready for a feast.

irrespective of how much the very fact may frighten you, you ignore bakugou’s talons as they sink into your chest and leave indented crescent moons on against each breast. he rips apart the costume you worked so hard on and pushes your hands away from your body when you attempt to cover yourself up. so, from that moment, you let lust slither over your brain so you can arch yourself into him for more pleasure, and remind yourself that even if you're being used — it feels good. katsuki feels good.

you like that he’s a little mean, a mean girl. all teeth and tongue and biting when he licks into you and breaks the strings of honey saliva that tie your tongue to the roof of your mouth. you love how he roughly grabs you by the meat at your hips and tugs you up to meet the grind of his cock against your underwear. you adore how he pulls the very fabric apart like they’re nothing, rolling you onto your stomach and positioning your hips in a way that makes your back arch.

you don’t even realised that bakugou has kicked off the lower part of his costume until you feel the heat of his firm thighs against the backs of your own and the sticky tap of his flushed cockhead on your ass cheeks — smearing white globs of precum over your hot skin. the blonde groans at the visible twitch of your cunt, the way it glistens and spews lightly for him.

“oh sweetheart,” he laughs through the coagulated feeling of prurience in his throat. “so fuckin’ wet for me, hah?” he manages, spreading your ass cheeks apart hungrily, a curious finger running through your slick folds and dragging your wetness over your pulsating clit. “s’kinda embarrassing. barely even touched you.”

the situation is embarrassing, humiliating almost and a fresh set of tears burn at your waterline — mascaras already tracking down your cheeks. you don’t fight bakugou as a muscled arm snakes it’s way around your waist and pulls you onto him until your sex is flush against bakugou’s thick cock — your hearts beating in sync, heavy breathing in tune. his dripping dick slips and slides a through your quivering pussy lips, grinding against the pulse in your clit before easing the mushroomed tip through the tight ring at your entrance.

“f-fuck!” you squeak, a little out of turn. fuckdolls don’t talk. katsuki is quick to growl and remind you, collapsing his entire weight into your body while you take him with ease. no prep required whatsoever. there’s a delicious burn as his girth stretches you wide open and he fucks you with just the tip — a pleasing buzz layering itself over your logical thoughts. the ones that tell you this isn’t right. the ones that tell you that you’re more than just a plastic play thing.

bakugou squeezes your hips harshly when you push back onto him, desperate to be fed more of his cock. “keep fuckin’ still, alright?” the king of the plastics rasps, taunting you as he thrusts all the way into your tight heat with no warning. you ooze at the sudden stimulation, basking in the weight of his dick against the insides of your crying cunt and fluttering walls. “sho’s gonna love this, maybe he’ll really want you then.” he continues to purr, jamming a thumb past your swollen lips to press down on your tongue. his other hand grasps at his phone once lost in the sheets, talking a picture of your teary face while you suck on his digit to soothe yourself.

like a baby sucking on a pacifier as it cries.

sending the photo to shouto, bakugou takes a few more selfies of you like this. his favourite is the one of your face squished between his large fingers, covered in salty tears and sticky drool. “don’t cry sweets. ‘m gonna fix this, help you get together. what are friends for?”

his voice is soft, nose nudging against your cheek in a reassuring manner.

but it’s all too good to be true.

briefly, there’s a second where everything is calm, where the blonde lets you relax around him between gentle juts of his hips forward and affectionate kisses peppered against your skin. you should have realised that katsuki’s pleasure is always above your own. because he suddenly finds the motivation to pull out of your snug, sensual heat to pound into you properly, dragging is seedy cock along all of the spots along your ribbed walls that make you see stars.

you feel like a pocket pussy, only one that comes with crybaby wails and pitiful hiccuped noises. it’s all music to katsuki’s ears, blending seamlessly with the intense base from the party’s music and thump of the headboard smashing against the wall all from the sheer force of his thrusts into you. it’s easy to forget how humiliatingly loud you’re being, you can’t find yourself to be worried about someone catching you either. even if the door is wide open.

why not? because katsuki claims you willingly, over and over again with each brutish brush of his leaky cockhead against your g-spot. “s-suki! please.” you slur around his fingers that fuck your drooling mouth in perfect rhythm with his dick that plunged in and out of your puckered, creamy hole.

“yeah, yeah. i gotcha. give into me, sweetness.”

where he had been keeping you pinned against the sex-soaked cheeks — bakugou pulls his sweaty chest away from your back and adjusts the roll of his hips, letting them crash into you like waves on a shoreline. to support his body weight above you, his toned arms cage you in, head tilted to the side to watch you sniffle on his dick, red rimming your watery eyeline. “you’re so fuckin’ pretty when you cry, sweetheart.” he moans condescendingly against the shell of your ear, painting a chaste kiss against your wet cheek. “what a pretty fuckin’ girl, suckin’ me in… takin’ my cock. oh fuck.”

if you could see him, will yourself from the pillows you take purchase in and use to muffle your salacious screams — you would notice how an evil smirk as spread across the blonde’s lips while he ravages you, fucks you beyond the stars and back. “you my pretty girl, yeah? fuckin’ sweet thing.” the praise has you spiralling and simultaneously soothes the burning hatred you have for katsuki in your chest. “why you cryin’ so much? is it over him, or over me?”

the answer to his question slips out of you faster than your sex-crazed brain can catch up. “o-over you!” it’s like you can’t even think for yourself, make any choices for your body outside of what bakugou has planned for you. you’d do anything to please him so that he keeps fucking you, so that you can forget your feelings and keep your place amongst the socially elite. maybe that makes you selfish, maybe it makes you dumb — that you’re a whore for katsuki’s bully cock that churns up your guts and uses you for ecstasy filled relief.

“y-yeah? mmhm, just like that baby,” katsuki stutters, licking his lips while you throw it back on him. the weak snap of his voice (caused by you clenching down on him) has you gushing nastily down bakugou’s length. bathing him in your juices, dripping down his balls as they clap against your ass, and swing against your clit.

“yeah…yeah…y-you’re my friend, k-katsuki! didn’t wanna lose you…”

satisfied with your response and feeling a little mean once more, the king of the plastics brings a heavy hand down against your ass before gripping it tight, forcing you back and forth on his creamed dick. you hiss at the newfound pain blooming underneath your skin, blinking back more tears.

“that’s right sweets, you’ll let me do anythin’ to keep me right? stay bein’ friends.” bakugou barks salaciously into your shoulder blade. greed and power and control sparks between your bodies that move in sync with one another, your hips shakily attempting to catch up with his rough pace.

you gasp when he hits a spot that’s got you howling at the moon. “y-yes, god, yes!”

“even let me fuck your crush? let me fuck you in front’a him?”

all you can do is nod and gargle in response, passionately sucking on his fingers. “get ‘em nice and wet for me. wanna play with you, gorgeous.” he nips at your skin, leaving the imprint of his canines against you before his red eyes laser focus on where your bodies continually meet. “lift your hips. atta girl.”

a heinous squeal escapes you, borderline pornographic as katsuki fumbles between your body and shouto’s high thread count sheets. his sticky fingers press into your pleasure nub in tight, calculated circles and he rewards the sound of your choked moans with another barrage of love bites to your neck. ones that you won’t be able to cover up. ones that show how much you’ve been used.

you wonder if his appetite for your dedication will ever be satisfied. even though your pussy works it’s way back onto him and swallows his cock down like fucking magic — bakugou still wants more of you. he grins sinisterly at the bruises that form just under your skin, that make you hiss when he licks over them and spills his curse words over against that sensitive spot underneath your ear. the sensitivity makes you yelp loudly, despite the people that walk by.

including none other than shouto todoroki.

“you’d even let him watch as i creamed your cute cunt, wouldn’t ya? so pathetic. it’s adorable, sweetness.” the blonde goads, pulling back so that he can get a better view of your ass bouncing against his slender hips. spreading you apart with large hands, he drools down onto his cock and your asshole, spitting onto the point at which his shaft slips inside of you — watching the white froth mix in with your viscous nectar and disappear into the creaminess of your tight hole.

your crush audibly gasps as he enters the room — mismatched eyes drinking in the view of you being absolutely wrecked from behind by his ex. shouto can’t help but admire your puffy face and equally puffy folds while he settles on the bed next to katsuki. he has no idea how his feet even carried him there.

“bakugou what are you—?”

the tail end of shouto’s words slip away when you clench down hard on bakugou, his head falling onto the latter’s shoulder while you share shaky moans. “oh my god,” katsuki pants, pulsing against your silken walls and driving his dick upwards into your sweltering mound. “you’re fuckin’ obsessed with me. with him. you just won’t let this dick go, will ya?”

admitting that you like shouto watching you get fucked by bakugou would be just as embarrassing as admitting your crush on him. it doesn’t matter if you’re crying too hard to confess the matter with words, both of them know it. they can tell by the way your pussy spasms around katsuki’s bulbous cockhead as it bullies it’s way into you with every thrust. “see icyhot, told ya she was a weirdo,” He chuckles down at you menacingly. “letting me be the one t’stretch her pussy open even though you’re the one that she wants. s’so embarrassing.”

todoroki let’s out a noncommittal grunt, equally amused by the situation like his ex. “yeah… so weird…”

he reaches around to grab at the fat of your waist and tugs you back onto katsuki so that his dick never leaves you. so that your clit is smooshed up against perfect abs, that contract with every thrust and overstimulate you.

maybe it’s not such a bad thing to be used by the king of the plastics, if it means shouto gets to touch you too.

“i think she’s about to cum, katsuki.” the two-toned haired jock states as if it’s obvious, his voice husky and low as the scent of sex trickles into the air. “you’re gonna make her cum, baby.”

“can fuckin’ feel it, she’s ‘boutta make a mess of me.” they share a lustful look behind you, that leads to them sharing sloppy, uncoordinated kisses as if you’re not even there. truly treating you like a sex toy to be used whenever, wherever.

the sounds of their kisses ring in your ears, cause heat to burn at your cheeks and shame to settle in your chest once again. but this time, you don’t fucking care — not when you’re close to cumming, not when both of the people you adore in your life are using little old you.

forcing you back and forth over katsuki’s dick even faster, shouto finds it in himself to address you, moaning out your name. “a-are you close?” he simpers, tongue rolling over his ex’s.

“i— i am. p-please. let me cum. lemme cum. lemme c-cum—!” you chant as if it’s the gospel, voice tapering off into a set of whistle tone simpers as you finally hit your high. black spots dot your vision, katsuki using a last burst of energy to canter into you, slamming against your g-spot over and over again. the dam breaks before your brain can register it, release trickling out of your fluttering hole like a flash flood after a vicious storm. it soaks his soft tuft of blonde pubes and soils the sheets below, your body wracked with shakes and aftershocks.

katsuki's cock against your cervix being the epicentre.

the two men behind you share a sick little laugh when you collapse into the sheets face first, both of them leaning down to kiss either of your cheeks soothingly.

“so fuckin’ cute ‘n loyal,” bakugou coos in a twisted tone, pulling out of you to jerk himself off over your quivering body.

shouto smiles and rubs soothing circles in the small of your back in an attempt to calm you down — taking pleasure in your tiny sniffles and hiccups while you come down from your high.

“your turn, bakugou.” he purrs slightly, using his arm to prop himself up on the bed for a perfect view of you both.

“mmfuck, shit ‘m so close.” colourful curses spew from between bakugou’s perfect, cherry bitten lips just as he hits his peak. slick sounds accompany the movements of his rough palm up and down his length, coaxing himself towards orgasm. he cums with a shout, a feral growl tearing his chest in two with how loud it is. all while ropes of his blistering hot and white cum land on your ass, pussy and back.

he collapses next to shouto after that.

you feel a finger drag through the hot mess on your back and turn around just in time to watch bakugou feed a scoop of his cum to your crush. todoroki sucking his fingers happily. “go get her a towel, icyhot.” he demands, and like a slave to the crown, todoroki follows — disappearing from the room in search for a rag to clean you up with. surprisingly, the blonde helps you to sit up, taking you into his chest so you can snuggle against it. “don’t cry sweetness, s’okay. i forgive you for thinkin’ i was a bad friend.”

tilting your chin up, you’re rewarded with a firm chaste kiss — swallowing katsuki’s moans as he tastes the saltine tears in your lips. “you’ll never do it again, right?”

“r-right…” you reply meekly, flinching at the blonde who boops your nose almost affectionately.

he busies himself with fixing your costume until shouto returns with a wet rag to wipe the cum from between your thighs and the rest of you. you try not to let it get to you when they share another passionate kiss, sucking on each other’s tongues and mussing up each other’s hair until they’re all rosy cheeked and short of breath.

you would be a fool to think that you ever stood a chance with shouto todoroki after tonight.

much like you, he’s just another piece in katsuki’s game of chess. he’ll never escape the toxic cycle of their relationship when things keep going like this.

“you look sexy with your hair pushed back, icyhot.” katsuki says to shouto once they come up for air, ruffling his silky locks out of place. his ruby, crazed, gaze slinks over to you next, a coy smirk playing at his lips. “sweetness, tell him, icyhot he looks sexy with his hair pushed back.”

katsuki bakugou is terrible. evil. conniving. but he’s all you’ve got, even if he is a mean girl.

“shouto…you look sexy with your hair pushed back.”

2K notes · View notes

strawberrystepmom · 4 months

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nsfw - minors/ageless dni, i will hard block you. narumi x f!reader. they are online dating. gen is so cringe fail loser online boyfriend coded to me and i'm utterly obsessed enamored in love with him. back and forth, mentions of mutual masturbation and sending nudes, suggestive conversation, open ended to write more about them. | divider thanks to cafekitsune, wc 1.7k

Gen’s phone pings with a notification on this desk. His eyes widen despite the fact he is mid digital conflict, tossing fireballs at the final boss of the latest game he’s managed to master and beat in roughly three days, muttering to himself while clicking the direction pad with one hand and sliding his phone haphazardly into his lap with the other.

A tiny piece of him is hoping that the notification is thanks to new results showing up under his saved search for Captain Narumi though he isn’t angry at what he does see on the screen when he looks down at it for the briefest moment, ignoring his handheld boss battle.

fallingstarwishes: you are always online at the strangest times…

The little icon of a cartoon version of you, the character you play in the game where the two of you originally became friends, next to the message stirs a little warmth in his face. He presses his lips together to hide a smile and turns back to the fireballs being hurled at the titular hero of the game, dodging them expertly, inevitably going to win this battle just as he wins all of the rest.

Another ping distracts him, at least momentarily, and the screen in lap lights up.

“Shit, just give me a minute,” he mutters impatiently toward his phone, red eyes flicking down to see another message from you.

fallingstarwishes: don’t you ever sleep? it’s so late (early?), silly.

It may be 4 am for him and roughly 2 pm for you but what you don’t know is that an hour ago he was spearing through the technicolor core of a kaiju four times his size that leveled three city blocks with just the sound of its roar using just his bayonet. He can’t leave blanks about who he is and what he does for much longer. As badly as he’s wanted to boldly brag to you about his prowess, he has always known it can make or break the two of you when the truth comes out.

The right time to mention the whole life threatening and dangerous job thing hasn’t quite come up yet, though. You know he’s in the military although he has never been entirely forthcoming about what that entails and you’ve never asked.

He thinks about how fresh things still are between the two of you. Less than a year of knowing one another, a chance meeting in a large server for a big title slice of life game that came out last year, that has since turned into late nights (for you) messaging, gaming, and eventually voice chatting and giggling together until one of you is forced to go - either to bed or work.

He fires off a few more fireballs at the boss, dodging the weakly tossed few they return, and the screen goes into the cutscene that effectively declares yet another victory for him. Smiling, he sets the handheld console aside, and curls his fingers around his phone. The screen fills with the conversation between the two of you, messages sent all hours of the day every day, the last one a picture of you laying in bed last night in a suggestive position claiming to be thinking of him.

His gaze fixates on the photos for a moment, greedily looking at what he was only able to glance at before he left for his mission. He slides down to the chat bar and smirks, seeing your status go from idle to online when you notice he’s typing back to you.

captaincool: Aren’t you at work right now?

You grin from miles away, discreetly looking around the office to make sure nobody can see you using a messaging app that is very obviously not work related during your paid hours. It’s not like you’re in danger of getting caught but there is something particularly delicious about having your own little love affair nobody else has to know about. It’s just the two of you, always, in a world (or worlds, when you consider how many hours the two of you have spent across games) you’ve created to enjoy together.

Tapping out a message, you furrow your brow and jiggle one of your ankles where it’s crossed over the other.

fallingstarwishes: stop answering my questions with new ones of your own!

Gen smiles down at the screen, thumbs tapping the edges of his phone, anxiously waiting to see what you’ll say next.

fallingstarwishes: now, what are you doing up?

fallingstarwishes: bored?

fallingstarwishes: lonely?

fallingstarwishes: need me to sing you to sleep?

Chuckling at the singing suggestion, he scrolls back up enough to see that pretty picture you sent him and hisses to himself, his adrenaline finally coming down to a normal enough level he can focus on something else besides the rapid beating of his heart and the thrill of the battle.

captaincool: A song? Just for me? Aren’t you sweet

Raising a brow while firing off his message, he wonders what the two of you actually are. There are times he absolutely considers you his girlfriend or something like it. You’ve discussed crossing the ocean to come and see him more than once though the concept of actually having a girlfriend makes him unexpectedly anxious. Someone to remember birthdays and anniversaries for. Someone who wants you where she wants you when she wants you there. Someone with demands, a comically large pair of scissors to cut his wings and keep him from being himself.

Although you’ve never given him any indication you’d want to do that, it’s something he has to reflect on. His feelings are real but so are the ties that come with them if he were to act on them.

fallingstarwishes: that isn’t even the sweetest i’ve been to you this week. did you forget last wednesday night already?

Damn, you make it hard for him to not act.

captaincool: How are you going to tell me to sleep and then remind me of that?

Of course he remembers Wednesday evening for you (early in the day on Thursday for him). He remained locked inside of his room for an hour while your soft moans of his name filled his headphones over video chat. Begging him please, telling him how badly you wished it was him instead of your short fingers…he remembers every last moment.

He remembers most of all the sound of his name from your mouth. It’s what sends him over the edge every single time the two of you are able to sneak in a session of mutual masturbation from all these miles and hours away. It also is what he cums to when he’s simply listening back to videos and voice notes or his own imagination.

fallingstarwishes: :) <3 just making sure you remembered who you’re dealing with. you didn’t even react to the picture i sent!

Gen scrolls back up to glance at the photo, sliding downward in his chair, thighs spreading instinctively. He places his phone down on his desk and slides his hand beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them down enough that his half hard cock pops over his underwear. Reaching for his phone, he positions it so that the camera captures just the cut of his Adonis belt and the barely visible crown of him, snapping a picture to send back to you. He holds the phone back from his face and smirks appreciatively at his own artistic ability, happy with the subtle gleam of his arousal beginning to flow and bead on the tip of his dick.

The photo is fired off with an accompanying cheeky message.

captaincool: Is this confirmation enough that I liked it?

Your eyes widen when the photo comes through, hands shaking slightly. He isn’t the only one who recalls the sound of a name from a pair of lips they wanna feel on every inch of their body in this scenario, now is he?

fallingstarwishes: you should have spoilered that! what if my boss would’ve walked up?

Gen chuckles at your response, pulling down his underwear and letting his now fully erect cock spring free. He’ll handle this and then he’ll be more than ready to pass out although he wishes he could stay up all through the day just to talk to you. He throbs, needy and wanting for a fist that he knows would grip him just right that sadly exists an ocean away and only in his mind. He taps out a message with his free hand, rubbing the thumb of his opposite hand over his slit and moaning low in his throat.

captaincool: Then you would have to explain why you are on your phone during work anyway.

Giggling to yourself, you know he’s right. You spare a few more seconds to glance at the pretty picture on your screen, thinking about your attachment to the man and his penis both, wondering if there will indeed be a day where you are faced with them both in person. Your thumb swipes across the screen, a small gesture that is full of longing while your heart beats in time with your rapid thoughts, and you finally respond.

fallingstarwishes: handle that and then get some sleep. i’ll be around tonight and hope we can spend some time together. sweet dreams gen ♥️

His fist works up and down his shaft and he reads the message with a satisfied half smile, discarding his phone to focus on how good he feels imagining bouncing you up and down on his cock. He’s powerful and strong, more than you could even imagine, and he’d make quick work of you if he were to have his hands on you.

God, he needs his hands on you. He whimpers and shuts his eyes tightly, the slick sound of his motions bouncing off of the clutter and boxes in his room that he’ll eventually get to clearing out. It doesn’t ever take him long when he pictures you, his balls tightening, threatening to spill across his fingers in damn near record time compared to how long he likes to make himself wait when the two of you are doing this together.

But don’t worry, when he finishes, he’ll make sure that you see his pearly release all over his knuckles with a message promising he’ll have sweet dreams because you will be in them.

#kendall writes #narumi gen x reader #narumi x reader #kn8 x reader

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arklayraven · 5 months

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✨ Edits Directory ✨

A post full of easy to find links of icons, dividers, banners, headers, etc I made and shared here for anyone to save/use. This post will be updated often, and can be found on the pinned post of this blog.

💀 A Date With Death 💀

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💖 14 Days With You 💖

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🎃 The Kid At The Back 🎃

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#;raven's posts 💜#;edits directory #;raven's edits #post made. I'll make more stuff to update this better in time.#a date with death #adwd #14dwy #14 days with you #tkatb vn #the kid at the back vn

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doumadono · 1 year

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♡ you can call me Marcianna, she/her, 30+, professionally a doctor, privately a writer

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arvandus · 3 months

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Love and Duty Chapter 2

Banner background made by me; do not copy or distribute without permission.

OVERALL FIC WARNINGS: cisfem!Reader; canon adjacent (i.e., loosely-based); 18+ (Minors and ageless blogs DNI!); NSFW in future chapters; violence in future chapters (not against MC); deceit/lying; fake relationship (one-sided); pining; angst with a happy ending.

Chapter 1

Love and Duty Chapter 2

For all of the drama of the previous night, the brothers were quick to apologize the next day, with Mammon practically groveling for forgiveness.

With your temper now cooled back to its usual low hum, you had accepted their apologies, and in a rare case of cooperation between them, Mammon and Asmo managed to put their funds together to replace the dress that they had ruined.

It was hard to stay mad at them after that...

But it was also hard to focus on much else besides the new development between you and Barbatos. It was a strange vortex of emotions that you found yourself in, caught in a tug-o-war between elation and anxiety.

On one end, you were thrilled that your night had done the one-eighty that it did, the impossible becoming your new reality.

Barbatos had kissed you. Not once, but twice. The memory of it still sat on your lips, the soft flesh tingling while your heart did joyous somersaults in your chest.

But you were now also filled with uncertainty. Yes, you’d kissed. But he’d also made a point to ask you to keep your involvement with him private for the time being. It’d lent the promise of more intimate moments to come, but it also brought to question how official the two of you really were. You couldn’t help but feel the sharp tinge of disappointment; it made you feel like a dark secret, something to be hidden away rather than cherished, and it brought with it a sense of uncertainty and shame.

Deep down though, you had trouble believing such negativity, especially considering the kisses you’d shared, and the way that he’d comforted you that night. Not to mention your lengthy friendship with him that you had both built over the years provided a strong foundation of trust and respect.

So instead, you focused on understanding the difficulty of his position. There was no doubt that your involvement with him could cause quite the political scandal. It was an unspoken fact in Devildom culture that there remained a very real bias against cross-species romance in any serious capacity. Sure, sexual relations weren’t uncommon; demons were more than willing to utilize sex as a form of manipulation when they sought to corrupt a human for the sake of devouring their soul. Sexual involvement also sometimes occurred as a way to solidify pacts between a demon and their human, a vow written into the body and soul via touch rather than verbal contract.

But romantic relations? True commitments? They were still frowned upon by demon society at large, and there was no greater emphasis on this than the persistent archaic ban on interspecies marriage. Yes, it was a ban that Diavolo had every intention of abolishing when he felt the time was right, but who knew when that time would be. Years? Decades? Centuries?

So to not only become romantically involved with a demon, but Barbatos? Even you couldn’t ignore how such news could shake the entirety of the Devildom and compromise Diavolo’s reputation and public trust. It didn’t matter how many times you’d helped the Devildom, whether it was the citizens, the lords of hell, or even the crown itself. It didn’t matter that your approval rating amongst the student body was the highest it’d ever been. And it didn’t matter how popular you were amongst the citizens, a celebrity icon in your own right.

What did matter was that Barbatos was the oldest, most powerful demon in the Devildom, second only to Diavolo himself, and the one closest to the young prince. He was not only the master of time, who’s reputation preceded him in hushed whispers, but he was also the voice of reason, the one who tutored prince Diavolo for millennia and advised him in a multitude of affairs, big and small.

Anyone could excuse the brothers’ infatuations with you as an influence of their pacts or even their Sins. And despite the strength of their Sins, their legal authority was limited by the Prince and the House of Lords, a vital arrangement of checks and balances within the Devildom government.

Anyone could even excuse the infatuation of prince Diavolo, if he were so inclined, with the assurance that Barbatos would always be present to act as a voice of reason and boundary-setting, the invisible leash to a young demon prince with overly optimistic and grand ideas.

But to have Barbatos be the demon that was compromised in a love affair with a human? And not just any human, either; one who had the pact strength of the seven lords of hell, the Ring of Light, and was apprenticed under the most powerful human sorcerer? And not just any sorcerer, but one who’s untrustworthy reputation far preceded him and that Barbatos himself happened to have a pact with?

No doubt many demons would not only see Barbatos’s involvement with you as a conflict of interest, but as a full-on attack to their national security.

The weight of these realizations grew heavier and heavier the more you thought about them. They wormed themselves between what you wanted and what was possible. All you wanted was to enjoy the comfort of Barbatos’s company; to flirt and date and be together without fear of repercussion. Instead, you had to remain secretive, silent, putting a stopper on your joy even as it threatened to bubble over like an unwatched pot. You had no one to talk to, no one to confide in. No one except Barbatos, of course... and his availability was already limited as it was.

The more you looked at it, the more it felt like a losing game, a temporary indulgence with no happy ending. But hope was a funny thing, and the simple fact that Barbatos had seemingly chosen his feelings for you over whatever risks it would bring were enough to give you reason to stay, to take what you could get in whatever form he could provide it.

After all, at the end of the day, happiness was something you not only craved, but needed. And for better or worse, it was Barbatos, above all else, that made you happy.

Which was why you knew you’d have to tread carefully. You were aware of the risks; you were aware of his position and the demands it placed on him. He had made the first move, but you knew that, at least for now, he also had to make the second, and the third. You were in uncharted waters, and he would be your guide, weaving the both of you through any possible political pitfalls.

You opted to wait; give Barbatos time to come to you when he was ready. You knew how busy he was, how heavy his plate of duties weighed upon him day in and day out. And it was for the best, you told yourself. Your own plate wasn’t exactly light either. You had plenty keeping you busy throughout the long Devildom hours.

It still didn’t stop you from checking your phone periodically, hoping for a text message. But each time, you were only greeted with his most recent text, sent after the meeting with the Lords had ended.

‘Well done,’ he’d said. ‘The young master was very pleased.’

The message was timestamped for three days ago. You’d received nothing since.

You worried your lip between your teeth.

Best not to look at it. You stuffed the DDD into your back pocket. But as soon as you did so, it vibrated. You nearly threw it across the room as you clumsily yanked it from the denim at lightning speed.

False alarm. You stared at the brothers’ group chat with an annoyed glare.

But as you stared at your phone, a new text came through, Barbatos’s name flashing across the top of your screen.

Your heart immediately froze and you opened the message.

‘The young master would like to invite you to dinner at the castle this evening.’

You stared at it with a mixture of relief and annoyance. Finally Barbatos messaged you... but certainly not for the reason you’d hoped.

Your fingers hovered over the keys briefly before you began typing.

‘Am I in trouble?’ you joked.

Barbatos responded immediately.

‘On the contrary, the young master was so pleased with your conduct with the Lords, that there’s a new matter he’d like to discuss with you in private.’

Private... you’d grown accustomed to the subtleties of Barbatos’s communication style to know that such a specific detail implied a request for secrecy.

You stared at the screen in annoyance and confusion. The way he was so formal... it felt like you were in a weird alternate universe where the kisses had never happened.

You read the message over again and narrowed your eyes.

A new matter...

Ugh. That sounded like the impending doom of more responsibility... you had half a mind to decline the invitation.

But before you could reply, Barbatos continued.

‘I shall make you your favorite dessert.’

Warmth began to blossom like a morning sunrise in your chest.

‘Are you bribing me?’ you teased.

A pause and you could almost hear his chuckle in your mind. ‘Perhaps,’ he said.

‘You can be rather devious when you want to be,’ you replied.

Barbatos sent you a winking demon emoji and you rolled your eyes.

‘What time should I arrive?’ you asked.

‘Dinner will be hosted at 6.’

‘I will be there,’ you replied.

‘I look forward to it.’

You stared at his response, letting it soak into your bones and water you like a parched plant.

He was looking forward to seeing you.

He still liked you.

He didn’t regret kissing you.

The anxiety slowly faded away and you felt like a normal, functional human again.

---

You arrived precisely on time, as you knew Barbatos liked. It was a skill that you’d never quite mastered until you’d finally learned to teleport. Turns out that removing the transportation aspect of travel made timeliness infinitely easier.

Barbatos opened the door just as you had raised your hand to knock, his body already dipping in a graceful bow.

“Welcome,” he said formally. His eyes lifted and met yours as he straightened, and heat flooded your veins at the very subtle undertone of warmth within their verdant depths.

“Thank you,” you replied in the same formality, a grin barely held back from your neutral lips.

Of course, your resolve didn’t last long. Your joy around him was in constant bloom, and your lips curled into a smile as he beckoned you into the entry hall.

It was all so familiar, now... the stonework, the dancing flamed sconces that never died, the pictures that always watched but never blinked. There was always something strange about the Demon Lord’s Castle, an awareness that seemed to lurk within its very walls. It felt more alive than inanimate, the occasional Devildom wind passing through high open windows like the breaths of a great beast. Even the rooms themselves seemed to change locations occasionally, particularly ones that didn’t like to be visited too frequently (as Barbatos put it). It always unnerved you, inspiring a low hum of discomfort each time you stepped within its ancient magic-laden walls. It made you subconsciously desire to treat the enchanted keep with respect lest it send you somewhere you didn’t want to go.

You never let your defenses down completely within the castle, but you had learned to grow more comfortable with it over time, in much the same way one might learn to befriend a wild beast. It was familiar to you now, as each visit you learned and memorized more and more of its nuances. In a strange sense, it felt like a second home, so long as you kept to the hallways and rooms that you knew you were allowed to venture.

Of course, your knowledge and the comfort it brought wouldn’t be nearly as complete without Barbatos’s help. You’d had countless conversations shared over tea about the ins and outs of the castle; he was a wealth of knowledge, filled with history and memories. He told how some spaces were built by the power of the first Demon King, while other parts came later, of their own volition, manifesting within a night. It was the spaces without origin, without ownership that were the most dangerous, where the magic was at its strongest, warping time and space, impacting the laws of physics in ways that were beyond your human comprehension.

Avoid the southeast tower. And the fourth level of the basement on the west end. Do not enter the room at the end of the long hall; the door only opens in, but not out. Never out. If you hear whispering behind the curtains within the gallery on the seventh level, do not open them.

On and on it went.

You catalogued each warning within your mind with an ease that could only be reinforced by the fear of death or worse.

Barbatos was always generous with answering your curious questions, although the answers he gave were at times cryptic or entirely evasive. No doubt there were some questions that ventured too close to secrets, and in those moments, you knew better than to pursue it.

You followed behind Barbatos, allowing him to lead you, despite the urge to walk beside him where you could steal glances of his profile. Typically, the entry hall led directly into the Great Hall, where most of the hosting and dining occurred when company was present. However, this time, you were led to the right and up a set of stone stairs to the second floor which opened onto a mezzanine.

“Are we not dining in the usual place?” you asked curiously.

Barbatos glanced back at you briefly. “Not this evening. The young master wishes to have his meal in his private dining room. I discouraged the decision due to formality, but he insisted, stating that the smaller space will be better for private conversation.”

Your brow furrowed as he led you down a wide hallway along a row of closed doors before finally turning to face the second to last set of doors. They were tall and ornately carved with etchings of Devildom fauna and wildlife arcing in intricate patterns upon its surface.

“Is anyone else coming this evening?” you asked as your eyes followed the height.

You had kept your invitation a secret from the brothers and provided a school-related excuse for Lucifer when he inquired about your dinner plans, but it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility that others might still be present. Solomon, Simeon... even Mephisto on rare occasions had joined you and Lucifer at the prince’s dinner table in the past.

Barbatos paused as you joined him at his side, and he looked down at you with a small smile. “No. The young prince has requested to see only you.”

Your eyes widened and your posture stiffened slightly. Barbatos gave a soft chuckle that traveled right up your spine. His gloved hand took yours, his fingers intertwining to give a gentle squeeze.

Such contact from anyone else would have been entirely normal and innocent. But from Barbatos, it spoke volumes.

“Are you worried?” he asked quietly.

“Maybe a little...” you admitted. “This feels very different from having a luncheon or teatime...”

“Hm, that is true. However, you will soon find that the young master is much the same, regardless of the time of day or the number of people at his table. You have nothing to fear.”

Your fingers tightened between his, allowing some of your anxiety to seep out of you and into his reassuring grip.

“It’s not Diavolo that I’m afraid of...” you muttered.

Barbatos’s gaze glazed over into an unreadable expression, the rich green darkening slightly and pupils dilating. It held you captive and you felt far too seen in that moment, the weight of his endless knowledge and infinite secrets taking everything from you while giving nothing.

For the briefest of moments, you felt the reality of what he was... more immortal being of darkness than friend.

But then his gaze softened again. Time moved forward, the infinity of the moment vanishing, and he was once again the Barbatos that you knew and adored. His hand released your grip to cup your cheek. The intimate gesture made your breath hitch, your eyes locked with his.

“Do not worry,” he said gently. “You will do fine. Besides, I will also be present.”

That did bring some relief, and the tightness in your chest lessened, finally allowing the breath you’d been holding to escape. Barbatos’s hand left your cheek as he faced the doors. He put hands on the large, iron handles and pushed them open with ease, a detail that did not go unnoticed by you as you eyed their height and thickness.

The dim gloom of the gallery hall gave way to the warm, yellow glow of a dining space that was half the size of the great hall. By comparison it was significantly smaller; however, that didn’t account for much. The room itself was still plenty large with a table long enough to seat ten individuals at its center. Diavolo sat at the furthest end at the head of the table, with two place settings arranged on either side of him. His hand was outstretched to the array of food in front of him, no doubt to sneak a sample, but retracted as soon as he was within yours and Barbatos’s sights.

Barbatos’s eyes narrowed, and he loudly cleared his throat in disapproval.

Diavolo pretended not to notice as his face lit up at your arrival. “Ah, there you are!”

“Here I am,” you smiled as you approached.

You took the seat to his left and sat as Barbatos pushed in your chair for you.

Barbatos began to fill the prince’s plate for him, but Diavolo waved him away with a laugh. “Sit, Barbatos. You’ve waited on me enough today.”

Barbatos paused and stared at him as if he grew a second head. “It is my pleasure to wait on you.”

“Yes, yes, I know... but I was hoping for something more casual this evening.”

You glanced at the array of delicacies on the table, the candlesticks and elaborate centerpieces... everything spoke of grandness.

Casual. This was casual for him?

Years you’d lived here in the Devildom, and you still couldn’t quite get use to situations like this.

Barbatos hesitated for the briefest of seconds and then nodded his head in defeat. “Very well.”

He took the empty seat across from you and your eyes locked with his. A flush of heat washed over you and you averted your eyes. You grabbed your glass of water and took a gulp.

Barbatos clapped his hands twice and you watched as two little Ds came out and began serving your plates. Just because he wasn’t serving the prince apparently did not mean that the prince was meant to serve himself.

“My apologies for not hosting you in the great hall,” Diavolo commented. “I grow tired of that big room sometimes. Especially after hosting a major event.”

“I totally get it,” you replied. “It does feel a bit much when there’s only a few of us.”

Diavolo brightened. “My thoughts exactly!”

You watched as your plate was loaded, and it was then that you realized... everything on it was something you loved. Not that you didn’t love nearly all of Barbatos’s cooking to begin with, even with the odd ingredients that were native to the Devildom. Still, you expected at least one dish that was a favorite of Diavolo’s since it was his dinner in his castle.

Suspicious.

Your eyes caught Barbatos’s again and for a moment you thought you saw a ghost of a smirk before it vanished. You stared a moment longer, but his expression remained as placid as always.

Diavolo and Barbatos engaged in small talk with you as everyone began to eat. How are studies at RAD going? How is your apprenticeship with Solomon? How are Lucifer and the brothers?

The questions were kind and genuine but also predictable. You were beginning to get the sense that Diavolo was nervous, procrastinating on bringing up the real reason he invited you here.

You did your best to keep your eyes on your plate or on Diavolo so as not to make your interest in Barbatos obvious, but the eye of your affection sat across from you and you couldn’t help but steal glances. Sometimes he met your gaze, and other times he did not. He watched the young master speak, addressed the Little D next to him with a whisper, or paid particular attention to the food on his plate.

God, how you wished you could read his mind...

You could feel tension growing and you weren’t sure if it was something shared with those in the room, or if it was something purely within yourself as you waited and waited for the truth of your visit.

But waiting wasn’t your strong suit.

“You know...” you ventured, “I’m curious why I’m the only one here tonight?”

“Oh? Really?” Diavolo asked with a tilt of his head. “Haven’t we often shared private meals between the three of us?”

You knew this tone; an invitation to engage in a careful dance of exchanges, a give and take of unspoken questions and answers. It was a game of sorts that demons often enjoyed engaging in, and you’d grown accustomed to it, learning how to play along.

“Lunches or teas, usually...” you replied, “but I think this is the first time I’ve been the only one here for dinner.”

Diavolo put his chin in his hand and looked up thoughtfully. “Hm, I guess I never noticed.” He looked back down at you, his smile genuine, but his eyebrows scrunched slightly with worry. “Does it bother you?”

‘Are you scared?’ Was what he was really asking. It was a test of trust.

You smiled reassuringly. “Not at all. I live in a house with seven demons. This is a very welcome reprieve, trust me.”

‘I am enjoying the game, let us continue’ was your unspoken reply.

A hearty laugh burst from Diavolo’s chest. “Yes, I suppose that’s true.”

“But still...” you pressed. “I’m surprised you didn’t even invite Lucifer. I’m sure he would have been happy to escape his brothers for a night.”

‘What could you possibly want to share with me that you haven’t shared with him?’

Diavolo’s smiled turned into one of darker mischief as he rested his cheek against his fist. “I’m sure he would have.”

‘Something he would do better not to know.’

Now that was interesting...

You halted, your cutlery poised in your hands on either side of your plate. You narrowed your eyes and set them down, the game coming to an end as you swiftly cut to the point.

“Okay, what’s going on here? You have Barbatos prepare all of my favorite foods, you invite me and only me to dinner, and Barbatos said in his invite that there’s something you want to discuss with me. He even promised to make me my favorite dessert.”

Diavolo’s eyebrows raised beneath his auburn strands, the golden irises glinting with mirth. “Did he, now?”

Barbatos froze briefly in the middle of drinking his tea, then slowly lowered the cup to the small saucer. “I will admit, my lord, she did require a little... persuasion.”

You raised a curious eyebrow at the butler but said nothing.

Diavolo released a satisfied sigh. “I do love your ability to read the nuances of a situation, and your directness has always been a breath of fresh air. Especially after a day spent with stuffy old demons whose words always carry three or four hidden meanings, at least. You wouldn’t believe how long conversations can drag on for, especially in a group...

“Yes, I did invite you here to discuss something. But I wanted to discuss it without Lucifer here. He can be a bit....”

“Overbearing?” you offered.

Barbatos smirked into his teacup.

Diavolo raised an eyebrow and grinned. “I was going to say protective.”

You suppressed a knowing smirk of your own.

“So...” you continued, “is this meant to be a secret from Lucifer then?”

“No, not in the slightest. I just simply wanted you to be able to consider the information and make the decision for yourself without external pressure.”

“Decision about what?”

“Well...” Diavolo pushed his plate forward and interlocked his fingers on the table. “That’s what I must talk about. The House of Lords were pleased to meet with you at the celebratory ball a few days ago. You left a good impression on many of them.”

“But not all of them,” you stated wryly.

Barbatos’s eyes glinted and Diavolo gave a half laugh with a crooked smile. “No, not all of them. There are still a few who are... resistant.”

“Because I’m human.”

“Because you’re not a demon,” he corrected. “It’s less about what you are, and more about what you are not.”

Your heart began to beat heavier in your chest, your stomach coiling with the early signs of nausea. “But I’ve been nothing but an ally to the Devildom, have I not?”

Diavolo nodded. “You have.”

Your throat tightened, and your words filled with more and more tension. “I’ve tamed the Seven Deadly Sins, helped to navigate peace with the angels, and saved the Devildom more times than I can count... what more could they want?”

More importantly, what more could you give? When would these endless tests finally end? How much more did you have to prove yourself before you could be left alone to live a happy life with those you cared about, without being scrutinized like a bug under a microscope?

You felt the hard tip of a shoe nudge gently against yours beneath the table, and your eyes caught Barbatos’s. His eyes were soft with understanding, his lips curled into a mellow smile.

Relax.

You took a breath and let it out slowly. “I’m sorry,” you muttered. “It’s just been... a lot lately.”

Diavolo stared at you for a long moment, sympathy in his gaze. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he reassured. “If you decide this is not something you want to engage in, then I will smooth it over the lords. You only have to say the word.”

You sighed heavily. “I don’t even know what ‘this’ is.”

“The lords have agreed by majority vote to expand the exchange program,” Diavolo said.

Pride swelled in your chest and your eyes widened. “Diavolo, that’s great news!”

Diavolo laughed. “Yes, it is. However, it won’t come without restrictions.”

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. “What sort of restrictions?”

Diavolo sighed and leaned back in his seat with his arms crossed over his broad chest. “That has yet to be decided. But for now, it is enough to know that support for the program is growing. Which presents us with our next dilemma... we must strengthen our position and prepare for who we will invite next.”

Ah, finally you were beginning to understand...

“You mean like... more humans?” you replied.

“...and angels,” Barbatos chimed in.

You fell silent for a moment as you pondered the significance. Doubt crept along your spine, icy tendrils that warned of danger.

“Is this a good idea?” you finally asked. “You just agreed that there are still some demons who don’t like even me and Solomon being here.... won’t this just anger them more?”

“A fair question,” he sighed. “And one that I’ve been pondering as well. But at no point have I ever waited for a one hundred percent approval rating before making a decision. One of the many benefits of being the prince,” he winked. “RAD was always meant to be more than just an experiment. And progress is only progress if things continue to move forward.”

Dread soaked you from your head to your toes, dampening your appetite. “And how would you like me to help move it forward?” you asked.

“I would like to include you in the decision-making; to utilize your expertise of humans to make the exchange program more welcoming for your kind, help us select our next three candidates, and then provide guidance for them once they arrive.”

You choked on the water you were trying to sip and coughed. “Me?? I’m hardly an expert on humans...”

“You are more of an expert than any of us,” Diavolo replied. “In fact, many demons haven’t visited the human realm for some time now, the House of Lords included. Their understanding of humans is a bit... outdated.”

You could feel a headache begin to form behind your eyes and you rubbed the bridge of your nose with your thumb and forefinger. “Diavolo... there are billions of humans. Trying to narrow it down to just three will be impossible.”

“You will not be doing this alone,” Barbatos offered. “Myself, Diavolo, and Lucifer will be involved in the process as well.”

You raised your eyebrow in doubt. “Yes, and how long did it take you three the first time?”

A silence lingered for three seconds too long before Diavolo finally spoke.

“Well, uh...”

“Yeah, my point exactly,” you huffed. “I’ll be long dead before you even reach a decision, let alone provide guidance.”

“The first time,” Barbatos said, “The entire process was new for everyone. The second time will be quicker, we assure you. The young prince would not bestow this task to you if was outside of your realm of capabilities.”

“Well, why not ask Solomon?” you asked. “At least he is immortal...”

“I have a different offer for him with regards to RAD,” Diavolo replied.

Curiosity made your eyebrow raise. “Oh?”

“Yes, you see, I realized that it would help the exchange program if we expand our RAD staff to include human and angel faculty.”

Your eyes widened and you stifled a laugh. “You... you want Solomon to teach? What on earth would the subject be?”

“I was thinking human world history. After all, he’s been alive for such a long time, and was likely there to witness most of it... I’m rather excited to hear his personal recounting of events...”

Diavolo had that look again, the one that made him seem younger than he was, all excitement and wide-eyed wonder.

You had no doubt that Solomon’s penchant for mischief would lead to a rather biased and inflated account of even the most mundane of historic events.

“Solomon teaching history... that’ll be interesting...” you muttered. “Has he accepted?”

“I haven’t asked him yet,” Diavolo confessed. “But it’s more than that... you have a far better approval rating amongst the populace than Solomon does. If we’re to allow a human to participate in the expansion of the program, then you are clearly the better candidate.”

A laugh escaped your lips and you clamped your hand over your mouth. “I-I’m sorry,” you said. “It’s just... this is not what I expected. I thought you were going to need help for another event, or another trial I’d have to go through or something for the House of Lords... but this?”

You gulped your water, but it didn’t satisfy. A million thoughts were flooding your head at once, pros and cons, unspoken implications and all the ways that you could clearly fail...

RAD studies, living with and managing the brothers, sorcerer apprenticeship, the student council, the judgment and scrutiny of an entire population...

It was too much, too much.

You could feel your heartbeat pounding against your sternum, and it felt harder and harder to breathe... and was the room warmer? Couldn’t someone open a window??

“Perhaps a short recess is in order before dessert?” Barbatos suggested.

His voice sounded distant, muted against the sound of your pulse rushing in your ears. Your eyes were stuck to your plate, but you forced them up to look at him. He stared back at you, but the panic was drowning out whatever it was that his gaze was trying to communicate.

“Yes,” Diavolo agreed. “A good idea, Barbatos.”

You hadn’t even realized that Barbatos had left his seat until you heard his voice next to you.

“Will you walk with me?”

You looked towards his voice to see his hand stretched out, palm up. You stared at it, before absently taking it with your own. He gently tugged your arm and you stood slowly.

Barbatos looked at Diavolo and provided a bow. “We shall return shortly, my lord.”

So much said in so little a statement, and Diavolo understood all of it. He gave a nod.

“Yes. Thank you, Barbatos.”

And suddenly Barbatos’s hand was guiding you out of the dining room and into the quiet and dim gallery. The further you moved away from the room, the more your surroundings returned to clarity.

“Come,” he ordered gently.

You didn’t question him, and you didn’t take note of where he led you, trusting him implicitly to take you somewhere private, somewhere safe.

If you’d allowed yourself the mental wherewithal to think of where he’d take you, you would have assumed the gardens or observatory; a place where you could see the sky, where the vastness of the heavens above you would free the weight from your shoulders.

Instead, he took you to the piano room.

The same one he’d found you in days prior.

The same one where he’d kissed you.

Your heart froze in your throat, your skin prickling and tightening into goosebumps.

A single thought broke through the chaotic hum of your mind and you finally found your voice again.

“Why did you bring me here?” you asked.

“It seemed to be a place you like to come to for comfort,” Barbatos replied. “Would you prefer a different place to gather yourself?”

You turned to him and stared, only to be met by his neutral gaze. Your eyes searched and dug for a sign of something more, desperate for a rock to cling to in a churning sea, and finally you found it... the most subtle furrow of his brow, the ever so slight downward turn of his mouth. He was concerned for you.

It was small, but it was enough.

You crossed your arms over your chest protectively. “No, no.... you’re right. I like it here.”

But instead of sitting and calming yourself, you paced, your feet moving you back and forth in front of the tall windows where starlight poured in. Barbatos watched, waiting, allowing you the space you needed to process and organize your thoughts.

“I don’t understand,” you muttered. “Why me? Why does he think I can do this? Help pick out the next three humans to come here? And guide them? What if they don’t even speak the same language as me? Do you know how many human languages there are? Thousands! Literally thousands! And how am I supposed to know what qualities to look for in a person? Are they qualities that demons will respect or want? Are we ruling out certain age groups? I mean, obviously no children, but that still leaves so many... and what about Solomon? That sly bastard... did he know about this? Why does he get to teach history while I have to be the one to search for three needles in a haystack...”

On and on your rambled, your words spilling from your mouth in a disorganized heap and you hated it, hated the way you were losing control of yourself. Barbatos’s reserved nature was more painful than it was helpful, he’s own calm resilience put in stark contrast to your own emotional state. Surely he was disgusted with you, found your emotional outburst unbecoming...

But then you felt his gloved hand grasp yours, heard your name spoken with gentle firmness on his lips. The interruption halted your pacing, and you turned to look at him, your eyes wide.

His gaze was soft, his touch secure and warm, and it grounded you instantly.

“Breathe,” he ordered, “before your damage your fragile human heart.”

You couldn’t help but smile and give a small laugh. “I don’t break that easily...”

Barbatos smiled in amusement and gently pulled you closer to him. “One can never be too careful. Now talk to me. What exactly is troubling you?”

You were inches apart now, and the closeness of him made your heart begin to race for a different reason.

“I already told you—” you started.

“No,” he replied, cutting you off. “That was not talking a moment ago, that was panic. You scarcely even acknowledged my presence.”

You stared up at him for a moment, your mouth opening and closing as you struggled to organize your conglomeration of worries into something cohesive.

“Ah,” Barbatos noted. “Perhaps I can assist. Earlier you had stated it wasn’t the young master you were worried about. What did you mean by that?”

You searched your memory for the moment outside the dining room doors as you stared at the details of Barbatos’s clothing.

“I... was worried about the House of Lords.”

“Why?”

“Because I know not all of them approve of me. And I know they likely talked with Diavolo after I met them at the ball.”

“Hm,” he commented.

You shot him a playful glare. “Hm? What kind of response is that?”

Barbatos’s lip curled into a half smirk. “It is the kind that is appropriate for this moment.” He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Continue. What do you suspect they talked about?”

You stared off to the side as your thoughts returned to Diavolo’s request at the dinner table. Your thoughts began falling rapidly into an organized pattern, a series of what ifs and consequences.

“I fail, then it’s going to give the opposition everything they want,” you said.

Your response didn’t answer his question, but Barbatos’s eyes glinted anyway, and his lips curled into a smile. “Splendid. I see you are already three steps ahead.”

Your mind continued working. “If I don’t participate in expanding RAD for more humans, then it’ll negatively impact the influence humans can have moving forward. What good is a human on the student council if they’re not even a part of selecting the future exchange students? My position would be in title only and wouldn’t bear much weight. It would make me look either irresponsible, or too afraid to make major decisions.”

“A valid point,” Barbatos agreed. “Your position as a student council officer was not given lightly and it would be a waste to not utilize it to its full potential.”

You fell silent for a moment, and Barbatos gave your hand another gentle squeeze.

“Continue,” he said.

“If I do participate in the selection process, then that will also carry its own risk. If for any reason the candidates I help select end up being a poor fit for the program, then it will not only call into question my skills but will reflect poorly on humanity as a whole.” Another realization came on the heels of the previous, and you looked up at Barbatos, your eyes wide. “The opposition will try to sabotage any new candidates that arrive here. They’ll try to make them fail.”

Barbatos’s smile faded to neutrality. “A likely possibility. Of course, we will do what we can to mitigate such attempts.”

Your brow furrowed for a moment. “Why didn’t they try to sabotage me?”

Barbatos’s smile returned but it was entirely devoid of warmth. “They did. We stopped them before you fell into such traps.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Oh...”

“Although to be honest,” Barbatos added with a slight tilt of his head, “your celestial heritage makes you particularly resilient to demonic influence, which made our work infinitely easier. Plus, we didn’t have to protect you for long... you managed formulate pacts with the brothers rather quickly, which only strengthened your resistance and deterred anyone with half of a brain.”

You flushed beneath his gaze and looked to the side again as you continued thinking. “This will put more pressure on me with all of my other duties, which is what they want. If I can’t handle it all, then they’ll call me incompetent. And if I give up anything, then it’ll lessen my impact and undo all that I’ve worked for. I’m sure they’d love nothing more than to see me vanish into obscurity, bogged down for decades behind mountains of paperwork about human candidates.”

Barbatos nodded in agreement. “There are those who would gladly take advantage of your short lifespan.”

“Of course they would....” you muttered. “Diavolo knows all of this too. And he knows he has to offer me this responsibility or it will look poorly on both of us if he doesn’t. That was why he didn’t inform Lucifer. He knew Lucifer would try to talk me out of it.”

“The decision must be yours and yours alone,” Barbatos said. “The young prince did state that you can refuse. It will not be the first roadblock he’s encountered, and I assure you he will overcome it as he’s done with all of the others.”

“No, no...” you muttered. “He’s worked this hard already... who knows how long this will set back the program and humanity’s place amongst the three realms if I refuse.”

“And thus you understand that all of our hands are tied.” Barbatos said quietly.

A heavy silence fell for a moment before you finally spoke again.

“I have to be perfect...” you muttered. “Anything less will be used against me, one way or another.”

Barbatos tilted your chin up to look at him. He smiled down at you, a hint of mischief glinting in his timeless gaze. “Luckily for you, you have me. And I happen to be an expert at perfection.”

You stared into his eyes, and it felt like weightlessness and falling at the same time.

“Do I?” you whispered.

“Hm?”

His stare made you so vulnerable it ached. The burning sensation of impending tears itched behind your eyes, but you fought it down.

“Do I have you?”

There was a moment of silence as Barbatos’s smile faded and his gaze stretched like the infinite darkness. It terrified you and called to you, and the longer you held his gaze, the less ‘human’ he seemed.

Then he leaned in and kissed you, gentle and feather soft, and the ethereal demon was once again a man. It felt hesitant, as if he feared he’d break you, but his lips were warm and real, and you leaned into it, grateful for the contact.

It was over too soon, his back straightening and your eyes fluttered open.

He smiled at you tenderly. “Of course,” he answered.

Relief pushed back the clouds of dread that your impending new responsibility had summoned forth and you smiled at him. Barbatos’s pupils dilated slightly, his own lips curling into a smile of his own, and his thumb gently caressed the apple of your cheek before taking your other hand in his.

“So tell me, star of mine... what shall we tell the young prince?”

You let the love-haze linger for a few seconds as his pet name echoed through every crevasse in your body, mind, and soul. One. Two. Three. Then you closed your eyes and pushed it down, stashing it away to savor for later.

When you opened your eyes again, you were once again firmly seated into your position of power. Apprentice of Solomon. Keeper of the Deadly Sins. RAD student council member.

And above all else, human.

“I will tell him that I will accept his offer,” you stated firmly.

Barbatos smiled fully, and it lit up his face in the most beautiful ways. He took your chin in his thumb and forefinger and stared into your eyes as if he were checking for something. “Ah,” he commented. “There she is. Welcome back.”

Chapter 3

#barbatos obey me #obey me barbatos #barbatos x reader #barbatos x mc #om barbatos #barbatos om #om fanfic #obey me fanfic

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syoddeye · 5 months

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Hello! Due to an influx of blank blogs following me, here’s a reminder. I will block you if your blog fits into the following categories:

Blank/empty/seemingly inactive*

Ageless**

Minors

*No customization (default icon or no description), no posts or your last post was in 2023, etc. You look like a bot. 🤷

**Please include your age in your bio, pinned post, or somewhere easy to find. Examples of what I'm cool with:

+30 yo

twenties

birth year

adult person

old enough to remember XYZ

I try to check new followers as they come but oof it must be the spam bots mating season, because they’re multiplying.

Thank you kindly in advance!

#sy psa

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mihrsuri · 16 days

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I have seen two episodes of the new Rings of Power season so far and I love so. Spoilers for those ones (I will be getting on to the rest)

Charlie Vickers I have no idea how you manage to become an ageless terrifying alluring evil but kudos. Because even just in his eyes, you can see it - that sense of not even immortality but beyond time, beyond space. And also how Sauron works! Like thank you for the terrifyingly competent evil!

(Side note the fact that Charlie is Australian made me think ‘Sauron but he’s an Aussie’ and I can’t stop laughing. Specifically from Geelong)

MANWE MENTION MANWE MENTION ULMO MENTION BY IMPLICATION VALAR SAYS NO

My beloved biracial icon Elrond continuing his mothers tradition of ‘fuck you’ :jumps into water with jewel: (also I completely believe he survives because Maia Heritage + Everyone Rightfully Has Soft Spot For Line Of Luthien) - and it makes sense! (I don’t know how much they can talk about Beren/Luthien and the Silmarils but Elrond knows what Jewellery Conflicts Can Do. Lived experience(s).

Cirdan being incredibly ancient and also incredibly incredibly chill with it is So Cool Actually. (Like yes obviously, he has seen So Much).

Celebrimbor is actually going to emotionally murder me because we know what’s coming. We know how Sauron is using all his desires to do good, to create/heal, to be known as something other than That Feanorians Son and also we know he is going to ultimately give Sauron Fuck All. I hope he does insult the fuck ass hair bow and flips him off before he goes to Mandos.

(Also listen that is a seduction actually just like with Galadriel he is Seducing and enjoying it).

I still want Sauron to somehow meet Elrond and run away in screaming terror, haunted by the Luthien Of It All.

DISA DISA 🥰 I think also, the way it hurts because we see so many places that in LOTR are well, fallen into ruin. But here we see them as they were, beautiful and alive and real. Disa the powerbroker, the peacemaker but also in her own right so much a leader. (And her singing!)

What they are doing with the orcs is so so true to Tolkien I will fight people on that one (because they were tortured and manipulated and essentially brainwashed and with the death of Morgoth, some of it shattering). Also SAURON YOU FUCK ASS MAIA EVIL HO.

(You ever manipulate a situationship so badly they stab you and then you get into it again and further manipulate them this time).

(Also OH MY G-D Sauron being like ‘I HAD FINROD FELAGUND IN MY DUNGEONS WHAT THE FUCK’)

(WEREWOLF GUY. Do not set a werewolf to guard a werewolf guy). Anyway as a tale of Beren and Luthien enjoyer!!!!

GALADRIEL SWEETIE. You did nothing wrong except all the things you did but also you did nothing wrong.

I love love the Istari plotline as well but I’m hoping we see some more diversity of Harad etc. (Also STARS. HI VARDA. HI).

Elrond my sweet baby kind as summer darling ILU forever

#tv: rings of power #rop season 2 #rop spoilers #rings of power #lil the tolkien dork #my elrond feels

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saccharinesunsetretired · 9 months

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Safe With Me | Gothbur x Reader

This took fifty years and it's not even that long MY BAD I've been working on a million writing projects at once and I'm terrible at time management.

Summary: An attempt to lose your virginity to your boyfriend doesn't quite go as planned. Of course, he's a sweetheart about it.

Warnings/Tags: Virginity loss (sorta?), smut, discussions of sex/boundaries/comfort levels, mention of an uncomfortable (but consensual) past sexual experience, Gothbur is a demisexual icon and also an absolute sweetheart, brief alcohol usage but nothing crazy, hurt/comfort, reader is AFAB but gender neutral

Word Count: 2k

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOCKS WILL BE BLOCKED

The bed had been made earlier in the day—Wilbur’s red sheets still smelled fresh. They were warm against your back, having been taken out of the dryer not long before. Clearly, he’d finished setting everything up only moments before you arrived.

It had all started with a conversation over a few drinks in Wilbur’s apartment, just two new lovers up late at night with nothing to do. You’d just started dating him after being friends with him for months. The transition felt as natural as breathing. Wilbur was a steadying force, a calming presence. It was impossible for you to be upset when he was around. At least, you were never truly upset for long.

So that’s why, after a few shared drinks and stories, Wilbur asked you for a secret. He said it jokingly, like he expected a sarcastic answer. Instead, you’d been honest.

“I’m a virgin,” you’d said. You felt your cheeks get slightly hot as you waited for Wilbur’s judgment. As per usual with him, no judgment came. “And I haven’t told you yet, because I was worried it’d…I dunno. Be a dealbreaker or something, because I’m so inexperienced.”

Wilbur’s brows had furrowed as he gazed at you. The lights in his apartment were all turned off except for the purple LEDs that lined the walls of his bedroom. “Sweetheart, you don’t need to hide that from me. It’s fine. I don’t have any issue with it.”

“…You don’t?” you asked, hesitant.

Wilbur shook his head and scooted closer to you, setting his drink aside. He gave you the softest of smiles. “Of course not. I promise.” He rested his forehead against yours. “We’ll move at your pace, okay? Whatever feels comfortable.”

“How about soon?” The words left your lips before you could think twice about them. And then, it got worse. “Tonight, maybe?”

Wilbur laughed softly. “Sorry, darling, but I’d rather not take your virginity when we’ve both been drinking.” He gave your cheek a quick kiss. “But soon, okay? Promise.”

And he’d stayed true to his promise, because there you were—naked, lying on his clean sheets as you gazed up at him. His fingers were inside you, curling in all the right ways as you gasped and tried not to completely lose your composure. It was almost too much, the feeling of his hands on you, inside you, touching you. His face occasionally dipped down to where your neck met your shoulder so that he could press a kiss there and murmur more soft reassurances.

“You’re doing so good,” he said, voice soft and quiet. “Is this okay?” You couldn’t do anything but nod as you tried to hold back the noises that threatened to fall from your lips.

You were so, so close. You finally let yourself moan, small whines as he got you closer to the edge. “That’s it, baby, just like that,” he murmured. He pressed a quick kiss to your jaw as he continued working his fingers, pressing them to your g-spot while massaging your clit gently with his other hand.

It didn’t take long for you to finish, panting, grasping at his wrist to make him stop his movements. He immediately caught the hint and pulled his hand away. You didn’t have words for how overwhelmed you were. It felt good, better than you could describe. Your legs trembled slightly, and they only stopped when Wilbur laid his hands gently on your thighs. “Hey, sweetheart, are you okay?” he asked. His brows were furrowed in concern as he looked down at you. “Do you need a minute?”

“I’m okay,” you said. Truth was, you were a little freaked out. It was odd, being naked in front of someone else, even if that person was just Wilbur. Every sensation felt so foreign. Sure, you’d gotten yourself off before, but this was a completely different ballpark, and you found yourself hesitant. “Can I just have a quick minute?”

“No worries,” Wilbur said. He pressed a few kisses to your jaw. “I’ll grab a condom.” He shifted away, reaching for the bedside drawer. It gave you a moment to try and calm yourself down.

You told yourself there was nothing wrong, nothing to be afraid of. Wilbur loved you. This was right, this was good. So why did it feel so overwhelming?

You glanced at Wilbur as he rolled on a condom. You knew he was bigger than average—he’d warned you before taking his sweet time stretching you out—but seeing him put on the condom was a stark reminder. You glanced away quickly, not wanting him to see you staring.

He scooted back over to you. “Alright, love. Are you sure about this?” He looked at you with that same concerned expression.

“I’m fine, Wil. All good.” You managed a small smile as you parted your legs. He smiled back as he settled between them.

“Hey,” he said softly, “if you ever change your mind, tell me to stop, okay? I’ll stop, and we can try this some other time. It doesn’t all have to happen tonight.”

You nodded and relaxed slightly before giving him a quick kiss. “I trust you,” you replied. And it was true. You did trust him. You trusted him with everything, even if you were a little on edge.

“Okay.” He lined himself up. You could barely feel the tip of his cock pressed against your entrance. He slowly entered you, pushing in just the tiniest amount. “Still alright?” he asked.

“Y-yeah…” Your voice was shaky. It didn’t hurt, but it was a bit of a stretch, and it felt…odd. “You can keep going.”

Wilbur nodded and pushed in a little more. He let out a shaky sigh as he did, a sign that he was thoroughly enjoying this. He was over halfway in. After a slight nod from you, silently urging him to go all the way, he did just that.

You let out a soft moan. He filled you completely. “Wil…”

“You’re doing so good for me,” he said quietly. He kissed your forehead. “Does it feel okay? I’m not hurting you?”

You shook your head. “You’re not hurting me.” But as you said that, the anxiety swelled back up within your chest. It was so much. His skin on your skin, the sheets, his cock, the muscles in your legs straining slightly to hold them in a position you weren’t used to. Every sensation felt like a little too much, but you wanted to keep going. Or, at least try. “You can go.”

Wilbur smiled down at you, but there was a hint of anxiety on his features. “Alright. Just relax, and tell me to stop if you need to.” He started moving, slow, languid movements of his hips. You let out a few quiet noises as he did so. Meanwhile, your mind spun.

You hadn’t expected to feel so vulnerable or so nervous. This wasn’t like what you thought it would be. It was simultaneously more and less intense. As Wilbur moved, and you felt every movement both inside and out, the anxiety got more and more prominent.

After a few more thrusts, you couldn’t take it anymore. “Could you please stop?” you asked. Your voice was quiet and shaky, but Wilbur immediately got the message.

“Oh, sweetheart, of course. Are you okay? Do you want me to pull out?” You nodded. To your utter embarrassment, tears were stinging your eyes. Wilbur immediately did as you asked, pulling out and sitting by your side so that your legs could rest.

He took off the condom and tossed it in the trash before quickly settling beside you, a clear sign that he didn’t expect this to continue any time soon. “Hey, darling, can you look at me?” he asked. His voice was soft but worried—there was a slightly higher pitch to it that he only took on when he was nervous. You looked at him despite your tears, and he immediately pressed a few quick kisses to your cheeks and forehead. “There you are, love. You’re safe. It’s just me.”

“I’m sorry,” you croaked out. “It—I was having fun, but then…it was…it was too much, and I got freaked out, and…” The words got more and more strained as you got closer to tears, and Wilbur ended up quietly shushing you.

“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s alright. You’re gonna be okay. There’s nothing you need to apologize for.” He laid beside you, allowing you the option of cuddling if you wanted it, and of course you did.

You buried your face in his chest, and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Deep breaths, darling. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

As you laid in his arms, you knew it was true. Wilbur would never even dream of hurting you. You could still feel the slight tension in his muscles, an unspoken worry that he’d done something wrong and scared you away. “I’m sorry,” you said again. “It’s not your fault, I just…”

“It’s okay.” He kissed your forehead as he ran his fingers through your hair. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You sucked in a small breath. “I…I guess I didn’t realize how overwhelming this would be, being with someone like this. And I know that I’m safe, that it’s just you, and that you’d never hurt me, but it’s just a lot to process. And I feel stupid, because people lose their virginity all the time, and most of them aren’t crying about it.”

“It’s not stupid,” Wilbur said softly. “Not at all.” He continued playing with your hair as he spoke. “You know…I had my first time before I found out I was demisexual.”

You had somehow never thought of that, but it made sense. He’d only figured out his sexuality recently, earlier in your relationship. “Oh,” you said quietly. “And was it…okay?”

“Embarrassing, mostly,” he confessed. “It was awkward. I didn’t know them very well, and I wasn’t really attracted to them, so it took me forever to get hard. It was sort of terrible. Fine and consensual, but really overwhelming.” His eyes met yours as you looked up at him. “I should have gone at my own pace, you know? The last thing I’d want is for you to feel rushed when you’re uncomfortable.”

“I’m sorry that happened,” you said quietly. You couldn’t imagine that, trying to lose your virginity to someone you weren’t particularly interested in. After all, you’d chosen Wilbur for a reason. “Really, you deserved a better time than that.”

“And so do you,” Wilbur said. “So keep that in mind, okay, love? We can take things at your pace. I don’t mind waiting at all.” He pulled you into a gentle hug. “I love you. Remember that.”

“I love you too.” You settled into his arms, accepting the affection gratefully. After a few moments of silence, you spoke again, still worried that he’d taken offense. “I trust you, I really do. I just…”

“I know you do,” he replied. “I’m not hurt, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He kissed your forehead. “I’m happy, honestly, that you felt comfortable enough to say something.” A pause. “I would’ve been horrified if I learned later on that you only put up with that to make me happy. Nobody deserves that.”

That finally settled your nerves. “And you’re okay? You’re not disappointed?”

“Nah,” Wilbur said. “There are other things to do.” He ran his fingers through your hair, calm, slow movements to help settle you. “We could cuddle up, watch a movie…? Maybe?”

“Can we focus on the cuddling part first?” you asked, tone slightly teasing.

He smiled, and you could tell that he hadn’t been lying; there truly wasn’t even a hint of disappointment in his expression. It was almost hard to believe. Part of you had assumed that your first time would be uncomfortable, because wasn’t everyone’s? But Wilbur seemed to completely reject that idea. It was reassuring. “We can definitely focus on the cuddling part,” he said.

You pulled a blanket over the two of you and buried your face in his neck. He was right. There were always other things to do. And one day, you’d be ready. For now, the sheets were still warm, and Wilbur’s arms provided a reassuring shelter from the world. You could hear the soft sounds of his breathing and the slow beating of his heart. It was more than enough.

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