#and earlier this evening one came to mind. its not even a name i feel any particular way about.

[ariestrxsh]

જ⁀➴ ♡🍨 content warning: smut, innocence corruption, masturbation, public fingering, praise, sneaking around, mentions of sex and virginity loss, small age gap (both characters are adults), pervy!brothersbsf!matt, innocent!reader

જ⁀➴ ♡🍨 author's note: sooo i wasn't planning on making a part two for this fic, but you guys asked, and now there will be multiple parts. you can read part one here.

જ⁀➴ ♡🍨 summary: your brother's childhood best friend, matt sturniolo, takes your virginity, and the two of you begin sneaking around in plain sight.

young god part two

Matt woke up in a cold sweat, his chest covered in a thick layer of perspiration, laying on the floor next to your brother's bed in his dark room. He had heard your brother's voice so clearly in his dream that he was sure it was real while it was happening.

He had taken your virginity earlier in the night, and his conscience was already nagging at him in the form of vivid nightmares that the interaction had ended in your brother walking in on the two of you.

In reality, he was thankfully a heavy sleeper, and it was a running joke in the family that he could sleep through a car accident, and he actually had once. It was a minor fender bender, but still. So even as Matt woke up in a panic, gasping for air, your brother was snoring loudly, the same way he was when Matt had snuck back into the room after he'd cleaned you up.

It's not that Matt regretted having sex with you. In fact, he was already plotting how he could get you alone again. But he knew he was playing a dangerous game. Your brother was bigger than he was, stronger than he was, and he'd seen him beat the shit out of people for less. Matt really believed him when he told him he'd kill him if he had sex with you.

But how could he have walked away from you after finding you like that, pleasuring yourself and moaning his name? He really thought it would have been more cruel to have left you all alone to your own devices when he knew that what you really wanted was between his legs, and he knew he could make you feel better than any toy could.

He started pawing at himself through the soft fabric of his underwear while he replayed the encounter in his head. He recalled the way he had stumbled upon you with your vibrator, softly moaning his name from one room over. He remembered how vulnerable and fuckable you'd looked.

His curious hand wandered into his waistband, and he wrapped his fingers around his thick shaft, fervently tugging at his cock while he recounted the shocked expression on your pretty face while he'd breached your entrance. He couldn't stop thinking about all the lovely sounds you'd made while he'd deflowered you, stretching you out for the very first time.

He started pumping faster, his mind flooded with images of you, getting closer and closer to the finale. He remembered how you'd clenched around him while he played with you and the way your breasts had jiggled while he had pounded into your sweet little cunt.

You were no longer pure and virginal, and it was all thanks to him. He had tainted your innocence with his dark desires.

He threw his head back and shut his eyes as a few strangled moans filled the room. His stomach dropped, and his muscles tightened as he finished himself off, milking his throbbing cock for all of its worth. He came all over his hand while he pictured your hole dripping with his seed after he'd filled you up.

He remembered the way you had softly begged him, "Please, don't tell my brother," while peering up at him with your big eyes, your lip caught between your teeth as his cum was still dribbling out of you. "I wouldn't dream of it," he had panted in response before leaning down and pulling you into a deep kiss.

A satisfied smile formed on Matt's face as he slowly brought his strokes to a halt, and a soft chuckle escaped his lips. He couldn't wait until the next time he got to have his way with you.

Finally, Matt was able to drift off again and sneak in a few more hours of uninterrupted sleep before the sun began to rise.

જ⁀➴ ♡🍨જ⁀➴ ♡🍨જ⁀➴ ♡🍨જ⁀➴

The next morning, you woke up smiling and satisfied from what Matt had done to you the previous night. You galavanted into the long hallway, tiptoeing past your brother's door. You floated down the staircase, running your hand along the smooth banister like you did every morning on your way to the kitchen.

"Morning Boots!" You greeted the family dog, ruffling his fur, and he wagged his tail in response. You let him out the back door to do his morning business.

You were humming to yourself, rifling through the fridge, pulling out a carton of eggs when Matt appeared out of the corner of your eye at the bottom of the steps. "Shit," you muttered as you lost your grip on the carton of eggs, sending the last six in the container crashing to the floor about your feet.

"Sorry, sweet thing. I didn't mean to startle you," Matt chuckled, watching you forget how your motor skills worked just because he was in your presence. "Hi, Matt," you timidly greeted him.

For a moment, you glanced up at him and then back down at the shattered eggs beneath you as you remembered the vulnerable position he'd seen you in the night before. You knelt down on the ground and started scooping up the broken shells.

"I make you nervous, don't I?" Matt smirked, slowly walking towards you. You innocently looked up at him with a flushed expression and your big, doe eyes. You didn't have to respond for him to know he was right. "Has anyone ever told you how pretty you look on your knees?" Matt cooed quietly, bending down and softly brushing his thumb against your smooth, pink cheek.

You felt your stomach drop as Matt looked into your eyes, caressing your face and saying all the right things to you. "You were such a good girl for me last night," Matt whispered, smiling deviously and running the pad of his thumb along your plump bottom lip.

Suddenly, you heard heavy foot steps descending the stairs, and Matt quickly pulled his hand away as your brother materialized at the bottom of the staircase. Matt started to help you pick up the broken egg shells, but you couldn't will away the pink shade your face took on after Matt had spoken so sweetly to you.

"That's okay. I'll just have cereal for breakfast," your brother rolled his eyes, approaching the pantry after witnessing the mess. "It's my fault," Matt said, winking at you as he stood up, disposing of the eggs shells and rinsing off his hand. You avoided eye contact with them both, cleaning the rest of the egg off the tile.

You appreciated that Matt took the attention off you by taking the blame. You were paranoid that if your brother looked at you for too long that he could see it written on your face that you weren't a virgin anymore.

"You know, why don't we all go out for breakfast?" Matt suggested, smirking over at you once he picked up the nearly empty carton of milk out of the fridge.

જ⁀➴ ♡🍨જ⁀➴ ♡🍨જ⁀➴ ♡🍨જ⁀➴

You, Matt, and your brother found yourselves at a nearby local diner with a bit of a 50's vibe to it - classic checkerboard floor, a vintage jukebox, and vinyl pink booths. I Only Have Eyes For You by The Flamingo's played quietly through the speakers as a woman in bright red lipstick and a poodle skirt greeted the three of you and led you towards your table in the back of the empty restaurant.

Both you and your brother sat down across from each other, and Matt made the bold move of taking a seat next to you, earning a curious look from your brother that Matt quickly brushed off.

The waitress poured fresh, hot coffee into each of your ceramic mugs and set off in another direction to give you all a few minutes with your menus.

You decided on French toast, scrambled eggs, and bacon. Matt got the biscuits and gravy combo, and your brother got steak and eggs. Shortly after ordering, the server came back around to top off everyone's coffee.

"So what do you guys like the most about being away at college?" You asked Matt and your brother as you stirred a couple sugars and cream into your mug. "Definitely the fact that our overprotective mother isn't always asking where I'm going," your brother chuckled, taking a sip of coffee.

"How about you, Matt? What do you like the most about college?" You asked, batting your lashes at him. "Probably how loud I can fuck now that I don't live at home with my parents," Matt said, smirking over at you.

"Wow. How inspirational. Maybe tone done the sex talk in front of my little sister, huh?" Your brother snorted, dipping his fingers into his water and flicking it at Matt. Matt did the same in return. You blushed and giggled at their rapport.

"What have you guys missed the most about being home?" You wondered, glancing between the two boys. "I missed Boots the most. We can't keep pets in our dorm rooms," your brother stated, excited to be around the family dog again.

You turned your attention towards the boy to your left to hear his response. "I missed you the most," Matt said in a seductive voice, staring into your eyes, nudging you in the knee with his, and secretly placing his hand on your thigh. You smiled and blushed at him.

"Did you miss me as much as I missed you?" He cooed, gently drawing circles with his fingers just inches from your heat. You bit your lip and nodded. "Hey, Matt. Could you stop hitting on my little sister in front of me?" Your brother asked nonchalantly. "No. Look at how much she likes it," Matt sneered at him, and your brother kicked him under the table.

It was a small price to pay in order to watch how embarrassed and flustered you'd get around him.

It was around this time that the waitress returned with your steaming hot breakfast. The smell of maple syrup and bacon wafted through the air, and you each thanked her as she placed your plates in front of you all. There were a few moments of silence while everyone dug into their meals.

You felt Matt's hand that was resting on the inside of your thigh as he started hiking up your sparkly pink dress and inching towards your pussy. Your eyes widened, and you slowly looked over towards Matt as he casually pulled your panties to the side.

He shot a subtle smirk in your direction as he slipped a finger between your folds, gently stroking up and down and just barely grazing your clit. You bit down on your lip to suppress a whimper. With one hand between your legs and the other gripping his fork, he nodded at your brother while he recounted his least favorite teacher his first semester of his freshman year of college.

"Hopefully, you don't get him next year, sis. Basically had to teach myself trigonometry because he refused to dumb down the information. Pretentious bastard," your brother mumbled under his breath. "Yeah, and he was a real hard-ass for no reason," Matt added, gesturing with his fork while he rubbed your sensitive button underneath the table.

"Just because you never showed up to class doesn't mean every single one of your teachers is a hard-ass, Matt," your brother snarked at him. Matt chuckled at your brother's comment while he inserted a finger into your drooling hole as you were taking a sip of your coffee.

You inhaled sharply, sputtering on your hot drink and nearly spitting it out onto the table. "You good?" Your brother asked you, and you nodded while you placed your mug back down with a trembling hand. "Lay off the coffee. You're shaking," he pointed out before cutting into his steak.

Matt slowly thrust his finger into you while you tried to remain as composed as possible. You loved the feeling of him moving in and out of you while your brother was across from you, unaware of what the two of you were up to on the other side of the booth.

Thankfully, after a few more minutes, your brother excused himself to use the bathroom, and he walked away without paying any mind to what Matt's fingers were doing under the table.

The second he disappeared around the corner, Matt grabbed ahold of your leg and rested it on his knee to open you up further. He spread your lips and stared down at your wet, juicy cunt. "Such a pretty pink pussy you have," Matt admired, hungrily wetting his lips.

He lined two of his fingers up with your entrance and started fucking you hard and fast with them under the table. "If the waitress or your brother start coming this way, be a good girl and let me know. I don't think this will take very long, though," he whispered, seductively smiling at you.

A few strangled moans escaped your lips as you gripped the edge of the table. "Good girl. You're so wet," Matt softly commented as his digits slipped in and out of you with ease. You could feel your stomach dropping, your core tightening, and your whole body quivering as Matt brought you to the quickest climax you'd had in your life.

There was something about the risky factor and the publicity of it all that sent you plummeting over the edge while Matt passionately finger-fucked you.

"That's it. Cum all over my fingers. Come on, sweet thing. I know you can do it," he urged you. His praise sent a current of pleasure through you while you started rhythmically clenching around his digits, your hips bucking as he finished you off.

"Good girl," he lustfully commended you as your jaw fell open and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. He pumped in and out, slowing down his pace as your orgasm concluded. A wave of tranquility washed over you, and Matt gave you a mischevious smile as he pulled his fingers from your slick hole that were covered in shiny layer of your juices.

"Mmm," he hummed as he stuck them in his mouth and licked them clean, cherishing your flavor. "I can't get enough of you," he whispered as you pulled your legs shut again, smoothing out your dress, and going back to eating your food as your brother came into view from around the corner on his way back from the bathroom.

You almost couldn't believe you'd let Matt do that to you in such a high-risk situation, but you fucking loved the rush you got from it, and Matt could tell due to how quickly you came.

When your brother returned to the table, you could feel how flushed your face must have looked as your brother's eyes traveled between you and his best friend. Matt couldn't hide the guilty smirk from his face, but he tried to cover it with his hand as he propped his elbow up on the table.

He got a sort of sick satisfaction out of sneaking around with his best friend's little sister right in front of his face. The only problem was that he was too smug and arrogant for his own good, and his God complex would quickly have him falling from good graces if he wasn't careful.

"You guys are acting weird today," he commented, narrowing his gaze. "If one of you did something to my food while I was gone, you're both dead," he laughed, skeptically looking at you and the boy beside you.

"Nah, nothing like that. Don't worry about it," Matt replied in a conceited tone. "If you're playing some kind of prank on me, I'm gonna figure it out, Sturniolo," your brother responded, laughing and pointing at him with his fork.

You sat uncomfortably in your soaking wet panties, silently finishing your coffee, unable to look at either one of them. Your heart was still beating quickly, and you were still trying to subtly call your breath back to you. Luckily, the subject changed, and the boys started talking about something unrelated.

You couldn't bring yourself to add to the conversation, so you listened quietly while you picked at your french toast and eggs, trying to draw as little attention to yourself as possible.

You couldn't keep your eyes off Matt the whole ride home, studying his profile and swooning every time he turned around to wink at you or lick his lips while he peered between your legs. Every silent exchange between the two of you felt like a little secret that only the two of you were privy to.

You liked concealing the sexual nature of your relationship with Matt. As far as everyone else around you knew, he was just your brother's best friend. However, behind closed doors (and under the table in empty diners), he was the manifestation of your fantasies, the embodiment of your wildest wet dream, and the boy who had popped your cherry.

All you could think about was the next time you'd get to be alone with him. Behind his hauntingly beautiful blue eyes, he was wondering the same about you, daydreaming about the next time he could fill you with his cock.

જ⁀➴ ♡🍨 to be continued...

taglist: @thepubeburgler @realqueenofpepsi @mattsredgaphoodie @purpledreamertyphoon @moosegirl96 @bsturnzmtts @sturniolo-girl @theyluvme-2315 @jassturn @brookiecookie-18 @maggot3647 @slut4chriztopher @strnlslvr @sleepysturniolo @lvrsturniolo @sofieeeeex @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @matts-myloverboy @witchofthehour @slutforsturniolosss @jaysturniolo @sturniolosweetheart33 @whoahoahoahoahoa @ilovechrissturniolosposts @smt-obsessed @sturnioloxlver @that1fangirll @hrtz4alex2211 @luvhsien @sp3ncerslvt @sturniolo-munch44 @jakewebberswifee @ssturniolooss @thenickgurl @sturniolo-fann @sst7niolo @babysturniolo @chestersturniolo @riowritesitall @camzeecorner @mattsturnixlo @annedebeijer @scorpioosworld @mattlover-00 @sweetlikesug4rvenom @m11rx @sturniolocharms @mickelodeon-2003 @sigmarizzler1 @chrislova

[despite-everything]

oh my god this is an actual gender crisis. jesus christ okay

[milkloafy]

I COULD BE YOUR CRUSH — WRIOTHESLEY

⋆｡˚ ❀ summary: you gush about your crush to neuvillette over some tea, and your crush unexpectedly joins the tea party and overhears you talking about him. ⋆｡˚ ❀ contents: fluff, fem!reader (use of princess as a petname), sassy neuvi, mentions of ayato ⋆｡˚ ❀ wc: 1.2k+ ⋆｡˚ ❀ a/n: alexa play crush by tessa violet,, LOL i was thinking so hard about the song title then i was like okay yeah these lyrics work ;-; titles are so hard.. anywayyy PLS ENJOY SOME WRIO FLUFF FOR THE SOUL !!

“You just don’t understand, Neuvillette,” you sighed dramatically, stabbing your fork into the delicate cake in front of you. “He’s totally swoon-worthy.”

Neuvillette took a sip of his tea before carefully placing the cup back on its saucer. For a while, he continued to stay silent, as if considering his words.

Once he finally opened his mouth, the only question that came out was a calm, “How so?”

It didn’t take long for a million reasons to pop into your head.

“Well…have you seen his arms?” you gushed. “Is that not enough of a reason in itself?”

Neuvillette scoffed, a smile of amusement playing on his lips.

“That’s not all, of course,” you clarified, grabbing a throw pillow from the sofa next to you and hugging it close to your chest. “He’s also caring and kind and treats everyone with respect, no matter who they are.” 

Neuvillette’s gaze flickered briefly to the door behind you, but you paid it no mind.

“Not to mention how he looks when he gets all serious. Neuvillette, have you ever seen him talk about a prisoner he had to punish? It’s so…” You hid your face behind the pillow, cheeks flaming at the thought.

Before you had a chance to collect yourself, you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You immediately stilled in your seat, slowly bringing the pillow back down to your lap.

“Sorry I’m late. Who are we talking about?”

Neuvillette smiled, ignoring your frantic look directed right at him. “Wriothesley, welcome. You are not too late. Please, take a seat.”

Wriothesley slipped onto the sofa, taking a seat next to you. Neuvillette poured him a cup of tea that he graciously accepted. Looking over at you, Wriothesley brought the drink up to his face and asked, “Care to tell me who you were speaking of before I arrived? It sounded like you were singing their praises.”

You fiddled with the the hem of your silk pajamas— Neuvillette failed to inform you beforehand that a certain someone would be joining the tea party, so you appeared in your regular sleep clothes. You racked your brain trying to come up with a response. 

“Oh, you know… Kamisato Ayato,” you managed, vaguely remembering how you saw his name and face on the cover of The Steambird recently. “The head of the Kamisato clan is such a…dashing and strong leader. I think.” 

“I didn’t realize you were close to Kamisato,” commented Wriothesley, sitting with one leg loosely draped over the other as he leaned back against the sofa.

“Oh,” you shook your head, “no. No, I’ve never even met him.”

Wriothesley raised a singular eyebrow in question. “Your words earlier seemed so strong for something directed at a man you have never met.” 

You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant even though your heart threatened to beat our of your chest. “You know how enamored a crush can make someone.” 

“I do,” Wriothesley agreed, his gaze locked onto yours so intensely that you almost had to blink.

“I’m sure you do,” remarked Neuvillette, still sipping his tea.

You and Wriothesley both looked over at him.

Neuvillette blinked. “Did you forget I was here? This is my office, is it not?” When no one responded, he sighed. “Well, I finished the last of my tea and I have some work to wrap up. Feel free to stay as long as you need.”

Neuvillette made his way back to his desk and Wriothesley refocused his attention towards you. 

“So. Kamisato Ayato,” he brought the clan leader up once more.

You choked out a laugh of exasperation. “Are we still on this? Just let me have my silly little crush on someone across the world who doesn’t even know I exist.”

Tapping his fingers against the teacup, Wriothesley huffed. You realized he looked almost annoyed and frustrated.

Just as you were about to ask him what was wrong, Wriothesley opened his mouth and said, “Would it be overbearing of me to say I wish you had said a different name when I asked who you were gushing over?”

A strange mixture of curiosity and hope filled your chest.

Curiosity as to who he thought you were talking about. Hope that maybe he thought it might’ve been him. 

“You could never be overbearing,” you assured, grabbing a small biscuit from the table and softening it up in your warm tea. “Would it be nosy of me to ask who you wished I was gushing over?”

Wriothesley grinned. “You are certainly nosy. But it’s one of the things I like about you.”

You laughed, wiping a crumb off your lip with a napkin. “Does that mean you won’t tell me?”

“Perhaps another day.”

In the distance, you heard Neuvillette clear his throat loudly. You looked over and saw him glaring straight at Wriothesley. They stayed like that for a while, having a silent conversation with their eyes. Whatever it was, it seemed intense. You were quite glad that glare wasn’t directed at you.

“I believe Wriothesley would like to share that information with you now,” Neuvillette announced after Wriothesley looked away with a sigh.

“Does he?”

“I do,” Wriothesley confirmed, the slightest bit begrudgingly. “Me.”

You waited for him to say more, but he didn’t elaborate. 

You blinked. “What about you?” 

“Are you going to make me say it?” Wriothesley let out a strangled laugh, grabbing a biscuit to munch on himself. “When I overheard you and Neuvillette talking about your crush, I was hoping it was about me.”

You blinked. “Why about you?” 

Neuvillette made a strange noise as a book fell off his desk. He cleared his throat. “Pardon me.”

You barely had time to wonder if he was okay before Wriothesley finally responded.

“You really don’t make things easy for me, isn’t that right, princess?” Wriothesley said with a helpless smile. “I hoped you were saying such sweet things about me, since I would say equally sweet things about you.”

With your stomach turning at both the pet name and his admission, you managed to say, “And if I were to tell you it really was about you?”

“That would make me a very happy man,” he said, unable to contain his delight. “Who wouldn’t be happy to hear the most beautiful and caring person they know is interested in them as well?”

You heard Neuvillette tap his foot impatiently in the background, but you ignored him. You and Wriothesley were having a moment here. 

“So, you’re saying you like me, too?” you asked, not wanting there to be any chance of a misunderstanding. The two of you made it this far, you couldn’t let it fall apart now.

“I like you very much,” said Wriothesley with a nod. “And I have something to take care of at the Fortress this week, but when we both have time next week, perhaps we can celebrate with a dinner. Without Neuvillette there.”

“Please, without me there,” Neuvillette chimed in, his arms folded as he sat in his chair.

You laughed, standing up and brushing the imaginary dust off your pajamas. “All right, I can take a hint, Neuvillette. I’ll help you clean up before I go. And Wriothesley…” 

“Hmm?”

You met his gaze and the corners of his eyes crinkled. You fought off a giggle as you returned Wriothesley’s smile, an overwhelming feeling of happiness filling you. “It’s a date.”

[uncookedfeeler]

CITRUS I🍋

Yuna x Reader

Tags : 4k, light smut, incest,

Part 2

Parenting is one of life's most transformative experiences. It is a journey filled with joy, growth, challenges and the commitment to raise and guide another human being. From the moment a child is born into the world, parents find themselves on a rollercoaster ride of endless new experiences, emotional highs and lows, and unwavering love.

Parents are caregivers, teachers and coaches, constantly trying to decipher their child's needs and feelings. While the joys of parenting are many, the challenges can be daunting. From sleepless nights with a newborn to the complexities of teenage rebellion, each stage of a child's development brings its own set of hurdles.

After more than fifty years on this planet, half of them with your wife, you're lucky enough to have a 20-year-old girl as your child. From day one she has been the ray of sunshine that lights up your life. She is the person you love most and will remain your most precious treasure until your last breath. But your relationship has changed a lot over the years. Your little princess has gone from being Daddy's little girl to a gorgeous woman who has been driving a wedge between you since she was a teenager. 

This distance has increased since she became a famous idol and now lives between the dormitory and your house, although she only stays when she wants to. 

As usual, you come home from work late in the evening and enter the lock code to get into your house. Unlike before, the lights are still out and the house is deserted. You leave your keys on the hall stand and walk into the living room, closing the SAS door behind you.

You sigh as you walk through the living room to your bedroom, the room a bit messy with some of your dirty clothes from the night before still on the tripod, you sit down on your bed to remove your tie and finally free your neck, your suit disappears and you put on more relaxed clothes. At the same time, your phone rings and you see the name of one of your colleagues on the display:

"Sorry to call so late, hope I'm not disturbing you?" says a soft voice at the other end of the line.

"Not at all, Mrs Bae, I just got home, what can I do for you?" you reply, laughing.

"The CEO wants to see you in his office tomorrow, he came by earlier but you already left, he said he wants to talk about the last contract you secured". 

"Ahahah, the old man already knows it seems, ok ok, noted I'll meet him tomorrow, have a good night Ms.Bae".

"You too, Director"

You put your phone on the bed before returning to the kitchen to prepare your meal and pour yourself a well-deserved beer. With your face still in the fridge, you hear the front door open and a familiar voice echo through the room with a simple "I'm home, I'm tired! "

You immediately know who it is and reply, "Welcome my darling, good to see you home, how was your day, are you hungry?"

Without answering, you see a young woman with red hair jumping onto the sofa. 

"Yuna, please take off your shoes before entering the house, and at least take off your jacket, it's quite warm in the house," you begin to reproach your only child.

"Daddy, please don't start, I've already lost my mind today with the girls, leave me alone!" the young woman cries in obvious annoyance.

The routine is back and you make the effort to take off her shoes while she is lying on her stomach on the sofa, you notice her outfit for the day, a black leather jacket hiding a nice white t-shirt and beige trousers, so you take the opportunity to complicate your princess. 

"That's a nice outfit, darling."

"Thank you," she replies, blushing.

You put the shoes down in the hallway next to yours and see her already absorbed in her phone, so you try to get the conversation going again:

"What happened to make my little Yuna so upset?" you say.

"I'm not 13 anymore, Dad, you can call me by my first name".

"Ah ah, sorry, Yuna".

"Those bitches stole my concept for the shoot, we had to choose a fruit and we had matching colour outfits, during the pre-shoot meeting we agreed and as luck would have it today they used their "maknae shoot last" rule and took my fruit!!! "

"Please don't shout, so what happened after that?" you try to calm her down.

"What do you think, I got to the shoot and all that was left were shitty concepts, seriously, who the fuck thinks it's sexy to have a lemon in the middle of a t-shirt, they're going to laugh so hard at me for the pictures, I'm so ashamed, I left right after the shoot," she says as she stands up and faces you.

You can see the sadness in her eyes and you want to hug her and tell her that everything will be fine, but now that she's looking at you, you realise that she probably forgot to take off the famous shirt and with great regret you put a big smile on your face, almost on the verge of tears.

"No, darling, I'm sure it's a great shirt," you reply with difficulty.

"PAPA!!!, WHY ARE YOU SNIGGERING?" the young idol cries before following your eyes to her T-shirt, her face falling as she finally realises the reason, you're so sorry, but the situation is really too funny.

As you wipe your eyes you see your princess's blood red eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks and she slaps you hard in the face "I FUCKING HATE YOU, JUST FUCKING DIE YOU AND MOM" before running into her room, 

For the second time in your life you feel that pain, the pain you feel when you hurt someone you love, just like your wife did 7 years ago. 

The pain on your cheek is almost non-existent, unlike the pain in your heart. You admit that Yuna has become very withdrawn since your wife's departure, and that your clumsiness with her has hurt her before, but never to this extent.

On the one hand, your authority has been challenged once again, and for the first time she's dared to raise a hand to you. On the other hand, there is a deep sadness that hurts you, but also makes you deeply regret your actions.

You hear your daughter's cries through the door and, with a feeble step, you knock on the door before entering.

"Baby....i'm so sorry" you see her lying on her bed, her head in her pillow, her crying stops when she raises her head and looks at you, her face is turned upside down, her make-up has run down her face. Seeing your child like that tears your heart out, even though you're responsible.

"Just go, just go like Mum, you don't even like me, do you? I'm ashamed of you, go and die," she said in a cold, mean tone.

"Baby... "Hearing these words from your little princess hurts and brings tears to your eyes, so you get down on your knees to continue your apology.

"Forgive me," you tell her as your tears begin to fall, Yuna continues to reject you and her words only drive nails into your feelings, you've surely done the irreparable and you decide to get up and leave her room.

You have ruined your last family relationship with the person who meant the most to you. 

"I'll bring you dinner later, just rest," you say in an emotionless tone as you grab the door handle to leave.

Your steps towards the living room are slow and your body heavy, only to suddenly hear someone running behind you, the door slamming against the wall, and feel your sweet daughter's body against your back as she tries to wrap her arms around you.

"PLEASE, DON'T LEAVE ME SORRY," the red one cries with all her hot tears.

You drop to your knees and take your only child in your arms and hold her close, her head is under your chin as she buries herself in your neck, you stroke her head with one hand while the other pats her back, her arms struggle to wrap around your waist but she clings tightly to you.

"I'm sorry darling, I'm sorry for everything, just let it go now, Daddy's here, I won't leave you, ever"

"Daddy, I'm sorry, I love you"

"I love you too, sweetheart"

You stay like this for many minutes before you plant a loving kiss on her forehead, a sign of your unconditional love for her. She's your treasure and the most important woman in your life.

Yuna's red eyes shine into yours and the young idol plants her lips on yours, the sensation is sweet and pleasant, you are morally in a dilemma, never in a million years would you have imagined kissing your daughter like this, but on the other hand you tell yourself that she's probably had too much rejection for today and is just trying to express her love for me. 

You allow your daughter to express her desires and she wraps her arms around your neck as you hold her kiss, her tongue meets yours in a first dance, the heat in the corridor rises as her body crashes against yours, you feel her small breasts against your chest and her perfume floods your nostrils.

"Yu..na," you try to stop her, tapping her shoulder as she literally tries to eat your lips.

The young idol slowly pulls back, leaving a trickle of drool between your two mouths. You see an incredibly sexy woman, her hair a mess, her breathing heavy and hot, her hands on your chest burning and her eyes devouring you like a hungry tigress.

"The redhead doesn't know what to say when she realises what she's done, her face turning scarlet as she rests her forehead on your shoulder.

"Don't worry, it's not your fault, are you tired?

She nods as you carry her to her room and tuck her into bed, one last kiss before sending your little princess off to dreamland.

"Good night, baby," you say to her as she seems to have gone far away.

.

.

.

The night was harder than expected, and after a light dinner you went to bed with your head still full of the events of the evening, a flurry of emotions running through your body and mind, and faster than you could have imagined, the morning light appeared through your window.

It's almost 7am and you're getting ready for a long day. As soon as you wake up, your body starts to show its age and it takes you a long time to get dressed and get out of your room and into the kitchen. You decide on a quick, simple breakfast of fried egg and rice, and with this morning's appointment, you'll be ready to go in no time, having filled up on vitamins for the day despite your fatigue. As you prepare this, you hear Yuna's bedroom door open and see your daughter come into the kitchen, still wearing her white T-shirt, but her beige trousers have been replaced by blue shorts.

"Morning dad," she says shyly.

"Hi honey, no schedule today?"

"Not this morning," she replies quickly, shaking her head.

Neither of you seem comfortable with the conversation and you do your best to avoid meeting her gaze and vice versa. You discreetly exchange glances and smiles, the redhead in front of you is beautiful and you find yourself ogling her.

You continue to prepare breakfast, making sure you have enough for your daughter. The only exchange you've had since is asking her if she wants a coffee, which she refuses. You see her hovering around the table as if she wants to talk, then she finally gets up and goes behind your back to the fridge.

Then you look back over your shoulder, feel Yuna's embrace around your waist as she buries her face in your back, feel the warmth of her breath again and put your hands on hers.

"Are you all right, darling?"

"I'm sorry dad, my head has been on fire since yesterday, my body has been on fire since I saw you this morning, I just wanted to tell you that I love you very much," she answers as she places kisses on your spine.

You feel the tenderness of her lips on your skin as Yuna gently lifts your work shirt, you say nothing, letting your daughter express her feelings as Yuna's gentle attacks send electric shocks down your back.

"Please look at me," she says as she forces you to turn around, pulling you by your hips until your bottom is resting on the edge of the kitchen counter, face to face with your daughter, who is staring at you for the first time this morning.

Her eyes were trembling and she asked you in a soft, frightened voice: "Tell me you love me, Daddy", while she pressed her body against yours. You felt her soft breasts against your chest and she put her hands on the back of your neck. Your daughter brings her lips to yours, her eyes closed, waiting for you to confirm your feelings.

At this point your morality as a father is the only obstacle standing in the way of this relationship, your daughter may not realise it but it is an immoral relationship waiting to happen, your daughter is still looking for a way to fill the hole in her heart, the love of her members doesn't seem to be working for her and now she is relying on you, her father, to give her what she needs, it is a difficult choice but you are letting yourself be swallowed by the devil, your daughter's happiness is what matters.

You cupped her cheek with one hand before pressing your lips to hers as Yuna melted under the pressure of her emotions, you rediscovered the sensation of love and laid your daughter on the counter while maintaining the kiss.

Your daughter is now sitting on the worktop, the difference in height bringing her face level with yours, she grabs the back of your hair to pull you towards her, her legs wrapped around your hips, your lips still locked as your tongues meet again.

When the seal is finally broken, both your breaths are heavy and noisy, each under the hypnosis of its own pleasure, while your eyes are full of sparkles and plunge into each other's. Your princess's eyes shed small tears, which you hastily wipe away with your finger before giving her a long kiss on the forehead.

Daddy, my heart is going to explode,' she says as she takes your hand to her breast with her t-shirt, the feeling is even better than you had imagined, her small breasts are firm and pleasant to touch, as you gently knead her breasts, the young woman makes little moans that express the pleasure she is receiving.

"Yuna... do you like what Daddy is doing?"

She nods "I want to feel your hand on my skin," she replies as she takes both your hands and places them under her t-shirt, right on her breasts.

"Do you like my lemons daddy? squeeze them hard please" Yuna's sexy face and her words echo in your brain as your hands work on her juicy fruit.

The tension in the room rises and you place your mouth on her little lemon, which you have been kneading for a few minutes, you attack her nipple with your tongue while you suck, hoping to suck something, you alternate your hands, now covered with little red spots, your daughter moans with pleasure and prevents you from withdrawing.

"Daddy, suck on them, play with my little lemons that you love so much, they're yours".

All this excitement had made you hot and a knot had formed in your trousers. Your lips left her two Susson-marked mounds and now attacked her defenceless neck, licking it from bottom to top, following her carotid artery and planting long kisses under her jaw, making her tremble before she gently pushed you away.

"Dad, let me take care of you too, I've been feeling your lump on my leg for a while now".

Your daughter begins to unbuckle your belt, then your trousers, until she can finally see your underpants and cock. Then your daughter puts her hand on the front of your briefs to rub your cock, and you see her other hand go down her shorts, probably to check the state of her briefs.

"I'm soaking wet, keep playing with my tits and come and touch me down there while I take care of you".

Your daughter's hand reaches through your shorts and grabs your cock to stroke it gently, on your side you slide one of your hands up her thigh to her panties and rub her slit directly against her skin, she's wet and you can feel a small bush above her entrance, you wiggle your fingers up and down, taking the opportunity to go back and kiss your princess who moans at your actions.

Yuna's technique isn't the best, but who can blame her, the poor thing is fighting against her own body and the way she arched her back as you delicately knocked on her pussy door, freeing her lips from your kiss, the young idol expressed with volume what she was feeling,

♥Hmm....♥Ah....Papa, continue ♥Hmm, ah....♥

Your daughter's moans are like music to your ears and she quickly lets you know that her orgasm is coming as your fingers begin to penetrate her pussy from the inside, you feel little spasms running down her body and her pussy dripping with wetness, as you pull your fingers out you see the deception in her eyes before devouring her with your mouth, forcing her to let go of your cock in the process. 

Your cock is extremely hard after Yuna's work but your pleasure is not your priority as your tongue slides up and down your daughter's slit, her juices are delicious and you suck them in to capture the taste of her naughty hole in your memory. Her grip on your thin hair is powerful and she blocks your head with her legs as you finally hear the release.

"Daddy, I'm going to come, it's happening, da..." before she can finish her own sentence, stopped by her pleasure, Yuna comes all over your now wet face and falls onto her back on the worktop.

"Are you OK, sweetie?" you ask her, a little worried as she suddenly falls backwards, the pressure of her legs freeing you and you see a close-up of your daughter lying on her back in front of you, her face red and wrung out, her hair falling in the air on the other side of the table, her breasts exposed and marked by your many hickeys and her pretty pink pussy that you've just finished devouring.

You grab both her hands and pull her towards you so that she's at your full height, then you take her in your arms as if you were comforting a small child.

"You're so hard daddy, you can do it if you want to," she says with a little hesitation and tired eyes, then you notice that your cock is at the same height as her pussy.

The choice seems obvious but at the same time you don't want to take it lightly and spoil the moment, the lack of time and place is not what you want to give your princess who is offering herself to you so you shake your head in refusal then plant a long kiss on her lips.

"Not now baby, another time," you reply as you start to pull away from her, only to feel her hand holding you back.

"At least let me make you feel better, I want to make you feel better too," she says as she grabs your cock and starts to jerk it like before.

"Do you like it when I rub your naughty cock? Why does a father turn on his daughter so much?" Yuna tries to be provocative to arouse you, but the tone is off and her lack of experience is glaring, you just smile under your daughter's true words.

Your orgasm builds as Yuna experiments with your cock, trying to give you as much pleasure as possible. You put your hands on her tits again and play with them, which doesn't seem to bother her, far from it.

.

.

"Daddy?"

.

.

"Yes, sweetie?

.

.

"You know ... if you want my lemons to give you their juice, you'll have to give me yours first," she said, pointing to her pussy.

The image crosses your mind, the image of a father and daughter kissing the fruit of their forbidden love, a father giving his love to his daughter and a daughter giving birth to that love, your excitement and shame explode as your cock comes to paint the lower part of your daughter's body, her pussy and thighs marked by your essence.

I'm sorry, I'll clean you up,' you say, looking for something to wipe your cum-filled daughter with.

"It's OK, I'll do it myself,' she says as she scoops up the white liquid and brings it to her mouth.

Any young man would have been revitalised to see such a beautiful woman collecting cum on her body, but your cock is now in a less than glorious state and you pull up your trousers, taking care to get dressed.

"It's almost time darling, I have to go," you tell her as you haven't eaten or slept well, it's going to be a long day.

"Wait," she replies as she approaches you, still naked, "don't forget my goodbye kiss," as she presses her lips hard against yours, then whispers, "we'll continue tonight, I love you.

Your body and mind may be in bad shape, but knowing your princess will be there for you tonight fills your heart with a feeling you've been missing.

Later, in your car on the way to work, you get a notification that someone you're following has just started a live stream, obviously it's Yuna, she's the only one you follow, you pick up the stream on the way, but enough to hear your daughter say

My favourite fruit? mhhhhhhhhhh that's a good question, I'll go with lemon, it's a sweet fruit like me and TMI, but my dad loves lemons'.

______________________________________________________________

[azullumi]

WHERE WE LIE ON THE EDGE OF SUMMER !!

premise— you didn’t think that being neighbors and childhood friends with scaramouche would come with many things. for one, you have a sassy loser pathetically in love with you. content tags & warning — pairing: scaramouche (w/ gender-neutral reader) | modern!au, childhood friends, puppy love, scaramouche can’t skip stones, secret pining (for scaramouche), scaramouche words of reassurance and act of service advocate, fluff, word vomit, unspoken confessions | wc: 4.8k ; one-shot

notes from a jellyfish — (repost) first fic for the eat your heart out event!! nearly lost my mind writing this, but enjoy!!

SCARAMOUCHE is a liar. 

No truths spill from his mouth, that much is certain. 

He could never understand how poets write the beauty of a single sway of grass in the wind nor see how artists condense a single moment into a small stroke of a brush and find it breathtaking when it will all be bound to rot, but he tells others that he does anyway because he is a liar.

His words would bloom withered in his mouth, a shameful garden of ache, and the petals would never feel the lingering warmth in his lips.

But he never liked the heat, the suffocating warmth, always preferring the winter cold. But it was summer when he first met you and he remembers your laughter as you threw pebbles across the water, your smile gently shaped by the warm sun.

i. standing in between here and there

“Are you okay?”

There was only a grimace of annoyance on his face when you turned to briefly look at him. 

It was summer once more and Scaramouche dreaded summer more than anyone could, much more so now that he’s spending this hot day with a stranger—a child of his aunt’s friend, who is also their neighbor. The combination of sitting under all this heat and being forced to get along with someone he doesn't know is deadly. He can't even remember what their name was. Perhaps they had uttered it once only for it to be lost among the pebbled path or to be drowned in the river.

He raises his eyebrow at you, “Is it not obvious enough?”

“What’s with this sassy lost child? Jeez.” You mumble more words underneath your breath, something along the lines of him being grumpy. The summer breeze brushes across your skin as you stare at the river, contemplating. Perhaps you were debating if this stone will reach farther than the frog who jumped across just now, or maybe you’re just thinking of the boy—who your mother had asked you to get along with—sitting silently on the grass behind you since earlier.

You throw one stone over the water. It bounces once and twice, the surface responding with small ripples, sliding across before eventually sinking. You do this many times and he watches you every single time, eyes seemingly unable to look away. But curiosity is a hungry monster that consumed him, so he speaks to rid of the itch that claws at his throat:

“What are you doing?”

“Stone skipping,” you paused, witnessing the stone jump only once before reuniting with its old friends at the bottom of the river, “wanna try?” You blink at him, waiting for his answer. There was silence then came a grumble. He stood up from his seat with an expression that makes it seem like you forced him to do so.

You handed the boy a pebble, but he had to stare at it for a few seconds before he took it from your hand. You waited with an expectant gaze, your mind somehow anticipating that he’ll do better than you—Scaramouche looks like he’s good at everything that he does.

Oh, but how your expectations came crumbling down the way your breakfast cookie fell into your glass of milk.

“Go on, throw it.” You had told him and you didn’t know that he was that much of an obedient child because he really did throw it. Just not aimed at the water. He threw it like how one would pass a ball to a friend; his stone didn’t even graze nor come near the surface of the water.

But Scaramouche had the same perseverance of a rock against the wind. He picked up a pebble and threw it once more; this time, it is now aimed at the water but it only went straight ahead, sinking slowly to the bottom.

You don’t think you’re in the right time to say anything, so you just stood still and watched the struggle of a young boy who had a small stone in his hand, with the occasional rustling of leaves as the breeze passes and with the sound of a splash prodding at the silence that envelops you like a familiar companion. You wanted to go and teach him how he’s supposed to do it, that there is a certain angle that he has to reach and he’s not supposed to throw it just as it is, but your mind seems to tell you not to so you didn’t. It’s all quite a spectacular watch, after all, it was as if you were watching your favorite show at 7 PM after waiting hours for it to go on air.

No matter how many times Scaramouche tries to throw and make the pebble bounce across the river, it always just sinks the first time it comes into contact with the surface. He’s silent, but the frustration is evident in the scrunch of his eyebrows and the increasing aggression in his movements.

“Oh, wow, you’re terrible at this.” You were the first to break the silence—your words seem to have stabbed his unyielding spirit as he groaned and just went back to where he was sitting. An act of surrender after struggling for so long.

”You don’t want to try again?”

“Why should I?” The pebble will only sink anyway. What’s the point of doing something when you know you’ll fail in the end?

“Come on, just try it once more.” But you were a stubborn one and Scaramouche doesn’t have much of a choice, not when you’re already right in front of him, taking his hands into yours and pulling for him to stand up. You drag him back to where he was earlier, still holding one of his hands even as you pick up a pebble right at your feet.

“Here, do it like this.” Your hand is warm against his, gentle, in contrast to the crumpled look on his face. You guide him, saying words that he can’t process that much as he’s way too focused trying to fan the flames that danced across his cheeks.

He throws, in the same angle and form that you have guided him into before you had stepped back to watch, holding hope that he’ll succeed this time in the same hand you held him. The stone doesn’t immediately celebrate with his other failed attempts at the bottom as it bounces against the surface. 

You cheered, the sound of laughter slipping out of your lips as it seemed to tickle the insides of your mouth the more you held it in. There’s a certain feeling of warmth that washed over him when the melody rings inside his head. The roughness of the feeling, sharp in its unfamiliar edges, is akin to a huge wave that crashed into his form, but the comfort of it as it submerges him reminds him of the afternoon light shining on the floors of his home.

“It only bounced once.” He says, trying to downplay it all to get rid of the feeling that consumes him.

“But it did. That’s what matters, doesn’t it?” The feeling only seemed to grow stronger as if it’s feeding on your every word, being fuelled by your gaze, by your smile, by the sound of your voice. He tries to drown it all by thinking of other thoughts, diving into a different topic instead, and all the while, copying you as you resume your stone-skipping activities.

“Do you not get bored doing this?”

You hum, contemplating for a few seconds before you answer: “I think everything is a little more fun when you do it during summer,” you beam at him, then return your gaze back to the river before you throw, “Like this, especially when you’re doing it with someone.”

To be honest, he doesn’t even understand what you’re saying. This childlike mindset—although, for one, you and him are just a pair of children, playing beside the river, feeling the heat prickling against your skin. The bugs only grow louder in each second that passes as the afternoon slowly comes to the pass, replaced with the onset of the evening. The sky is painted with various colors mixed together but all in harmony, oranges and reds mixed with something golden, tainted with purples.

And yet, he would always ask himself, what is even nice about summer?

“I don’t know why but maybe I’m just saying that because I like summer,” you say as if you had read his mind, as if you had noticed the lingering question on his face that asks you why. “Do you like summer?”

It takes him a moment to answer, letting the orchestra of the wind against leaves, of the stone splashing against water, of the cicada’s song last longer than his silence. He could have said no, he could have disagreed with you and argued with your answer. He could have said that he despised summer for its heat and bugs. But he didn’t and that was the problem.

“I… like summer.” There are razors in his tongue as he speaks, the utterance of the sentence making him bleed internally as he bites on his words. Perhaps the hesitation in his tone betrays his words or perhaps it was the twitch of his lips paired with the contort of his forehead that made it appear as untruthful as it actually was.

Even so, you were convinced. You gleam at him, eyes bright with excitement: “Really? You don’t seem to be one to like summer.”

“I do, why would you say that?”

You shrug, “You just seem like a winter person to me.”

That wasn’t exactly a lie. In fact, that was the whole truth and the actual lie was him saying that he likes summer. He still doesn’t understand himself for saying such words—maybe it’s the heat getting into his head or maybe it's the sound of your laughter that plays over and over inside his mind.

It feels like having a crush—He slaps himself mentally at the notion.

“We should always spend summer together then.” You’ll say, watching a pebble bounce across until it reaches the other side. A feat you have only achieved twice—the second time being this moment. You silently rejoiced for your success, clenching your hand into a fist.

He responds, “So we could just watch stones bounce on water the whole time?” and this made you chuckle before you refute: “Unless you want to, but there are tons of other things to do during summer.”

This went on and on: you, just listing out whatever activities you could do and saying whatever, and him, who listens to every word you say and would give you short responses. It is not until dusk had ended and the evening came, and now, you’re standing by the doorway, saying your goodbyes to the boy who’s terrible at stone-skipping.

“You don’t even know my name, do you?”

“I do.”

You laugh, “Liar.”

ii. take a step closer, won’t you?

Summer came to visit like an old friend you had known for years.

It’s a fleeting companion, a familiar stranger bound to disappear, gone as the wind carries your scent. The sun kisses your skin very delicately, the grass will hold your being as if you were its own child, and you will miss its embrace the moment it slips out of your hands quietly. But there’s a strange comfort welling up in your heart knowing that you will feel it once more in time and you won’t have to spend a lifetime missing it—or him.

“What are you being so slow for?” The dark-haired man stops from his track and turns to look at you, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips formed into a frown. “The sun will set before we even reach the river.” It’s the mayor of complaintown, throwing his usual complaints at you. You could only roll your eyes before you run to him, catching up to his pace before the two of you resume walking.

Scaramouche, somehow, kept his promise. Although it’s not exactly a promise because the two of you didn’t make any, he did keep his word of spending every summer with you. And right now, you’re in the middle of walking through the forest near your home—an adventure, you may say, despite the fact that you have taken this path multiple times already and you’re just returning to the place where the two of you usually spend your moments under the summer sun.

The gentle murmurs of the rushing water reach your ears, eventually getting louder as the two of you draw close to your destination. Not sooner than later, a familiar scene comes into view: the small river—a stream, to be exact—in all its glory displayed before you, a path of water stretching from here to there across your line of vision, carrying memories of when the two of you played around it.

There’s a small smile embedded on your lips. It’s the thought that it's only the two of you that knows of this place that makes you warm—it’s like a secret place for you and him.

You come close to the body of water, crouching down, staring at your rather unclear image by the water, and making out the contours and edges of your face. You try to reach out to your reflection, disturbing the surface with the tip of your fingertips, and you watch as it ripples underneath your hand. Although you’re way too focused on whatever you are doing that you forgot the existence of the boy who came here with you.

“Are you just planning on staring at the water all day long?” Scaramouche says as he crouches down beside you. He speaks as if he didn’t spend his time staring at you, admiring the way the sun holds you in its embrace, while thinking that he could just look at you for hours without getting bored.

You hum, “I really don’t know what else to do now,” you draw something on the water, the surface coming in creases.

“I thought you said there are a lot of things to do in the summer.”

“Yeah, but we already did nearly all of them.” You grumble, turning to look at him with a troubled expression. Indigo orbs meet yours in a gentle gaze; Scaramouche’s gaze, tender and soft, doesn’t often match the harsh bite of his words. It leaves you wondering, confused, if this is just his way of showing that he cares or if there’s something more. But you don’t like thinking about it—fools base their thoughts on foolish assumptions, and you are no fool.

If only you know what festers underneath his skin. Looking at you like this, honey light against your skin, he thinks you’re beautiful—the word isn’t even enough to capture the essence of your being. The world seemingly held its breath for this moment as everything came to a still except for the wind that brushes against your face. He is foolishly and utterly starstruck by the existence of you, as if you were meant to be in this place, to experience this small, fleeting moments with him, to be bathed under sunlight, to breath in the air of your surrounding, the feel the coldness of water against your feet—to live.

There's you and his mere image being reflected by your eyes, and he tries to see into the waters of your gaze for something that is akin to the just adoration he holds for you, hoping that you hold him under the same light too. He may speak of words that hold no meaning, no truth, but his feelings for you are intense and unwavering that it consumes him. Won’t you pull him a little closer?

You break the stillness, your surroundings seemingly coming back to life with the sound of your voice: “What are you thinking now?”

“Just how stupid you look.” The boy answers. Liar.

You acted as if you were offended by his statement, letting out a gasp and even placing your hand over your chest to show that you were quote on quote, hurt. He only rolls his eyes at your performance.

You jest, “Why are you so grumpy? Do you just hate being with me?”

“Stop assuming things, I didn’t say anything like that.” His attention is now to the river, watching as the stream flows and as the rocks remain unmoving.

You grab this moment to take advantage of his vulnerability and inattention. Snickering, you scoop a handful of water before splashing it to him, drenching him in the process. At the sight, laughter bubbles from your throat—he reminded you of a wet chick.

“So we're playing this game?”

“You started it.” You grin, splashing him once more but this time, he was able to shield himself from your attack.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Cold!” You exclaim as he repays you the favor.

It became a battle between you two. You’ll splash him with a handful and he’ll only retaliate after like two or three of your attacks, and even so, he’ll only fight back with only so little. Nevertheless, water drips from your head, down to your face and he, too, is left there on the side of the river with you, completely drenched and with his clothes sticking to his skin. His gaze is on you and yours are on him, and the two of you break into laughter—you think you’ll remember the sound of yours and his tangled together forever.

For a moment, it felt like the two of you were children once more.

“Ah, now we’re both wet.”

Scaramouche flicks your forehead, earning a groan from you. “And whose fault is that?”

“Yours, duh.” You sneeze as soon as you finish your sentence. Scaramouche doesn’t fail to notice you tremble, hugging your knees close to your chest as if to quell the growing chill. 

He abruptly stands up, and you watch him as heads over to where his bag is. He’s been carrying that since earlier and you’ve been curious as to what it contains—you didn’t get the chance to ask him earlier but now, your question is going to be answered. 

You follow after, standing and peering behind him to see the contents. Your eyes are able to make out a water bottle and some snacks—were those your favorite?—among the pile of things. Albeit you didn’t get to see anymore of it as he turned around and placed something on top of your head, obscuring your vision.

You realized it was a towel when he started to gently rub your hair and the side of your face with it, drying you with the soft fabric.

“I didn’t know you had that much prepared.” You comment, letting him seemingly take care of you. Sometimes, it feels like you’re indebted to him with how much he looks after and cares for you. It feels unfair; you take so much from him and he never takes anything from you. He never lets himself indulge, settling on here and there, but never by you. You wish he would come close, he wishes you’ll hold him closer.

“I think we’re going to get sick after this.” You ask with worry lacing your tone; the water was cold and none of you brought any spare clothes, save for the towel he had prepared. And while he’s the one who got drenched the most, he’s here, focusing on you instead. 

(You’ll always find yourself being bathed underneath all of his attention, whether you notice his gaze or not.)

“You’re the only one getting sick between the both of us.” He answers, draping the towel all over your shoulders before he goes and takes out a smaller towel to dry himself. There’s a small pout on your face when you hear his words—you can’t say anything in retort.

“Are we going home now?”

“If you want to, that is.”

The sun is already setting and darkness is slowly creeping into the day as time passes. Your surroundings are dyed with a warm golden, fading into blue. The animals that dwell in the night are revealing themselves as the ones who thrive during the day are returning to rest. Eventually, you also have to go home too. Exhaustion has seeped into you, settling into your weary bones.

“Can you carry me?”

“What? Can’t you walk on your own?”

“Oh, please, almighty Scaramouche. My legs are hurting and I’m tired.” Your hands are clasped together as you speak, batting your eyelashes at him.

Scaramouche could have complained a little more, dismissed your request, and walked back on his own, but he didn’t. And it’s not like he did not want to, but he just could not. How could he ever deny you? You were all that he could ask for, you were only asking him for one thing. Rejecting you at this moment was just like turning away from you—even though he knows that you’re most likely bluffing and are capable of your own. 

(But, oh, he’s simply nothing without you. After all, you make up half of his soul even if he’s not even a fragment of yours.)

“You’re so troublesome.” You’re his favorite problem anyway.

Dusk is settling in the corners of the forest, and in the midst of the trees and along with the harmony of cicadas, is you and Scaramouche. The dark-haired man carries you on his back while you keep him occupied with your chatter of whatever that comes to your mind.

And just as he notices every small thing about you, you can’t ignore the dark hue his skin is painted in:

“Your ears are red.”

He takes a few seconds, mumbling, “It’s too hot.”

(Maybe it’s summer that is warm, or maybe it’s you.)

The next day, however, Scaramouche got sick and you had to nurse him back to his health—out of worry and guilt. Although you held that fact over your head, treating it as some sort of trophy.

iii. aren’t we already close enough?

Something knocks at Scaramouche’s window.

That’s how most horror movies start, but this is no horror movie, and it doesn’t take much for him to know that it was just his neighbor trying to grab his attention.

Another knock came. He heads towards the noise, pushing the curtains aside, and immediately seeing you across in your own room, standing by your open window. Upon seeing the man, you enthusiastically wave at him.

You mouthed, even doing some hand gestures to throw your message across to him: “Do you wanna watch the stars with me?”

It seems like he didn’t understand what you were trying to say as he only stares at you with a confused expression. You sighed and gestured for him to wait, disappearing from his line of sight for a moment before returning with a pen and paper in your hand; you scribble something on it and he watches you with a curious gaze.

With your words written by ink, a few of it crossed out, it reads: Let’s go stargazing.

He mouths, “Right now?” In which you responded with a nod and a smile. Then you return to your pad in hand, turning to new page before writing:

There’s going to be a meteor shower tonight. Let’s watch it together.

Scaramouche puts down his reply on his paper that he has gotten as you were writing.

Where? 

The forest has a small clearing, it’s perfect for stargazing.

Right, and why are we talking like this?

It’s more fun this way and I don’t want to wake people up.

So, do you wanna go???

Okay. Yeah.

YAY !!! I’ll meet you outside.

But just as you were about to leave, he threw his pen at your window, an attempt to grab your attention although he did end up startling you.

It’s cold.

Wear something warm.

You beam at his display of his concern and give him an ‘Okay’ sign.

A few minutes flies by and you come out, jacket in hand. A certain man, with hair as dark as midnight, greets you. He’s clad in sweatpants and an oversized shirt, layered with a jacket on top—he was dressed comfily, as if he were planning on sleeping prior to this.

“Were you planning on going to sleep?”

“I was, until you called.”

“You could have just turned me down. I don’t mind watching the meteor shower alone.” You feel guilt rising in your chest, looking down at the ground you were rooted on. Thoughts whirl like a hurricane, creating a vortex of doubt that wreaks havoc inside your head. You don’t know what’s wrong with you, feeling all of these all at once over a simple and small thing. You were the one to insist, always the first one to come barging into his door.

But somewhere between your thoughts and his own, between loving you and adoring you, he knows you in ways that no one could. You’re the only one he ever knows.

“You’re not bothering me,” Scaramouche ruffles your head, messing up your hair. He speaks in the same note of his touch, soft and gentle, and it feels foreign and familiar at the same time; you want this, you could get used to this—the small thought that remains inside your mind echoes as he dispels all of your worries with just a few of his words. “Besides, I also wanted to watch the meteor shower.” With you.

“Really?”

“Where’s the stubborn and strong person who’ll drag me out of my room every summer that I know?” He flicks your forehead, making you wince and rub the spot to ease the pain. He adds, a small smile etching into the curves of his lips, “You were the one to say that everything is better when you do it with someone.”

“Well—”

“There’s no need to worry over such useless things,” He heaves out a sigh, “If I hated you, you would have known.”

He doesn’t know what took over him to have his hand seek out your face, caressing your face so tenderly like a lover would. The dance of his fingers left a trail of warmth across your skin, blooming and spreading like fire, and maybe it was your fault or maybe it was his that your face leans closer to his touch as if desiring for more of his softness. He doesn’t fail to notice the look on your face, the fire that festers within you spreading to him.

Scaramouche is mesmerized by the miracle that is you. 

He clears his throat, looking away, afraid that he’s going to be consumed by your light the more he keeps his gaze on you:

“Let’s go before we end up missing it.” His tone falters into something sweet, and his hand, too, falls into something kind—his fingers slipping into your own. You could only nod your head in response, afraid that your words would break in your tongue before you could even speak.

It doesn’t take long to reach the spot you were talking about. But it did feel like time moved slowly with the silence as neither of you let go of each other’s hand; you battled with your reasoning, thinking that it will help you walk better in the dark and not trip over anything even when you’re already familiar with the path. Or maybe it was just too cold, you don’t know; it’s not like you want to let go either.

(And in the same cadence of your thoughts, his soul whispers to you: “I don’t think I want to stop holding your hand.”)

Tonight, the stars are a witness to the wake of something foolishly beautiful. As the streaks of light fill the sky like a stroke of a painter’s brush on an empty canvas, lush grass forms into nothing as it sinks beneath your being, intertwined with his as he clutches your hand tight—the sky holds the stars as the earth bears your weight all the same. When the warm breeze leaves and when life all becomes nothing in the absence of indigo merging into golden, can you stand with him a little closer underneath the fading warm?

“Kuni.” What does his name taste like in your mouth?

“Hm?”

Scaramouche isn’t stupid, but you make him feel stupid, and he loves you stupid, like a loser stumbling over the stars in your eyes. He understands why poets write the mundane and how artists portray a fleeting moment bound to rot by time. It doesn’t take much but he spent a long time seeking comfort in the warmth to know the answer—he knew what it was when he wished you were with him to enjoy the sun.

You reside in the deeper parts of his soul, tangled in the loose threads of his being. Scaramouche prays—even when he doesn’t necessarily believe, but what is a god’s gaze for your love?—to whoever is listening that you’ll stay there forever. Can a human ever stop their heart from wanting? 

“Don’t you want to go home now?” You had asked him; the meteor shower has finished and the clouds are already hiding the vast blanket of stars above you. There’s not much left in this night, just silence and a pair of people who had nothing and everything at the same time, lying on the grass as if they’re the only ones who matter in the world. He has always existed right there beside you and he has belonged to you in ways that you may never know.

“I’m still not sleepy yet.” But his mouth gapes into a yawn and you laugh.

“Liar.”

Call him whatever you want, he just wants to stay with you a little longer.

Scaramouche may be a liar.

But he likes you, that much is certain.

taglist: @felibrary, @yunicide, @bittersweetmiko

© AZULLUMI 2024. plagiarism of any form and type, stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms is NOT permitted.

[gojoest]

MARKED MINE — gojo satoru

MDNI, f! reader, established relationship, alcohol (you’re both little bit drunk but there’s consent), pet names (baby, pretty, love), unprotected sex, clothed sex (reader wears a dress), creampie, spit play, piss play (unforeseen), he marks you like a dog (pees in u....), vv brief mention of implied period sex/oral in the past, lmk if i missed anything, 1.7k+ words of pure p*rn without plot

it was special and intimate. satoru laughed the first time it happened.

you came back home from a night out, both of you a little bit under the influence of alcohol. you barely unlocked the door — being precise with your movements while drunk was tricky, especially when you had to insert a key into the lock, and even more when your boyfriend was a bit of a dickhead and made sure to mock you as much as he could while you were trying to unlock the door — snorting at how you couldn’t find the hole, that it was his job to poke inside and not yours, that he could find it with his eyes closed because you trained him so good — all while feeling you up from behind with his hard-on pushing out the crotch of his slacks, rubbing between your ass cheeks.

after a few minutes of struggling, you finally managed to unlock, and the second you stepped in and closed the door — you were pinned against it, his hands slipping under your dress only to grab your ass and lift you over his groin as you gripped on his shoulders for support. you could feel his hardness against your clothed cunt, already sensing that his big balls had a nice load for you in there.

“you are so pretty”, satoru whispered as his lips brushed against yours. “ how do you know — the lights are off”, you breathed into his mouth, putting one hand at the back of his neck, your nails giving a little scratch on his undercut, the sensation making him hiss.

“you know”, he pushed his hips slightly forward, his tip pressing against your clothed cunt, “i don’t have to look — i can smell you already. you always smell so beautiful”

your pussy was already wet and prepared. and he knew that, you were leaking copious amounts through your panties on his clothed crotch. he could feel it, smell it in the air.

“say.. can i fuck you, baby?”, satoru asked, one of his hands loosened the grip on your ass before letting go completely. his arm muscles bulged even more against your palm as he held your entire weight with a single hand while the other worked on unbuckling his pants to take his throbbing cock out. “look”, he gave it a few slow pumps, “can you see how bad i want you right now?”

“dickhead.. i can’t see anything”, you spoke, trying not to moan from the musky scent hitting your nostrils, “but i can smell you, too”

“so, what do you say — do you want this dick head?”

“mhm”, you only hummed, your mind too clouded to form a coherent comeback, and it wasn’t the alcohol to blame.

“hold tight then”, the hand he was touching himself with earlier went back to gripping your ass again. you wrapped your legs around his waist and he carried you to the bedroom.

he threw you on the bed and hovered his huge frame over yours. you both were still with your clothes on — neither of you wanting to waste precious time undressing, only getting rid of what was in the way — he lifted your dress up and pulled your panties to the side while you helped him push his slacks down below his ass.

satoru leaned in closer, his tip swirling around your entrance, “fuck”, he hissed at the sensation, “can’t wait to be in you”

one of his hands came to your jaw as his mouth covered yours, pulling and sucking on your tongue, trying to reach down your throat. it felt like he was devouring you. when he pulled back to take a breath, trails of saliva dripped from his mouth and onto your chin. he wiped it with his thumb, then slid it into your mouth, smearing his liquid on the tip of your tongue.

“open big for me, love”, he said in a low voice. you complied without a second thought, your body acted on its own — not only did you open your mouth but also spread your legs wider, inviting him in both up and down.

your eyes were already adapted to the darkness, the moonlight creeping in from the window helped you see his face better. you could distinguish the spit building in the corners of his mouth and, shortly after, a huge glob of drool rolled from his lips into your open mouth, sliding over your teeth and coating your tongue. you didn’t swallow it immediately but held it in the back of your throat, feeling it slide around, tasting it. it almost felt like your mouth was your pussy and his spit was his precum, sliming up inside you.

“swallow it, baby”, he whispered, eyes fixated on your neck, anticipating to witness his spit go down your throat. but you didn’t, not yet at least. instead, you placed your hands on his ass cheeks and pushed him against your cunt — a way of saying “i’ll only listen if you put it in”.

“fuck”, he hissed, his body shuddered slightly. he almost just came but managed to hold it back, he wanted to fuck you good, just how you wanted. but it messed with him when you were being needy, which almost always made it harder for him to last long.

“your wish is my command, baby”, satoru used one hand to line up his cock with your entrance, rubbing the head across your pussy lips, parting them and pressing against your opening. it was only then that you finally swallowed his spit and opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out for proof.

your actions made him groan and he entered you in one hard and unapologetic thrust, heavily ramming his entire cock inside you in one go, forcing you to stretch and open unexpectedly. he pushed so hard it pressed your body harder into the mattres, almost driving the air out of your lungs.

“shit”, you cried out, your mouth remained open as you tried to adjust yourself to his size that forced itself all the way in with eagerness never seen before.

“sorry, pretty”, satoru let out a low groan, his hand wiping the sweat off your forehead, “but it’s your fault, you make a mad man out of me”, he chuckled breathily as he started darting in and out of you, slowly increasing the intensity of his pounding, pulling only about half of his cock out and then burying all of it back in, bolting pleasure all through your system. as his lower body collided with yours, he leaned in to meet your mouth in a passionate kiss, leaving you breathless and filling the room with muffled pants.

your hands went to his well-toned ass, kneading a little and pushing him in time with his penetration all while your body met his every thrust, which made satoru whimper into the kiss. fine little shivers worked their way up and down his skin.

“i really… just… can’t… with you…”, he dragged out each word.

he was going harder now, delving in your depths, parting the swollen walls of your cunt as his cock fervently throbbed in and out of you. you weren’t sure if it was your own pulse throbbing in your vagina or the blue veins covering his cock pulsing inside you. either way it made you clench and suck him harder into your hole.

“satoru..”, you moaned, “you always feel so good”.

“damn, baby, so do you”, he moaned back, “your pussy is a perfect fit for my cock, no matter how many times i fuck you — it’s always magic”, he muttered before burying his head in the hollow space between your neck and shoulder.

his strokes grew more desperate, shorter and faster with each thrust now — it meant he was really close. but so were you.

his mushroom head continuously rammed into your sweet spot, causing a slight but delicious pain at the back of your pussy, and soon, your body started shuddering, hips bucking frantically against him as you came on his cock, moaning the pleasure out of your lungs — which was the last push he needed. it only took him one last thrust to reach his high — he groaned loudly as his cock pulsed and shivered inside you, splashing his hot creamy seed deep into your willing pussy.

“i love you... i love you…”, he repeatedly mumbled, face still buried in the crook of you neck.

but the movements of his hips didn’t stop. he was still pushing his cock inside you, squeezing the last drops of his cum, and even after he was dry and finished — he didn’t cease. the intense sensation subsided but he didn’t go entirely soft. his tip felt extremely sensitive, it both hurt and tickled him a little at the same time as he kept pressing gently into your cunt.

“it feels funny”, he sighed, slurring his words, “it’s like i’m about to pee”, he chuckled in disbelief.

“well”, you whispered into his ear, “let’s see how it goes”

“really?”

“really.”

the thought of him peeing in you didn’t disgust neither of you. at all. as insane as it might sound — it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. you were his and he was yours. you had already shared many things before — the good, the bad, laughter, pain, cum, spit, your period blood on his lips and cock — everything. so, sharing this too somehow made sense to both of you.

after your verbal consent, satoru picked up his rhythm, almost invoking it by force. his moans got louder, way louder than usual. you had never heard him pant like this before — it was new and it made your walls tighten around his now overly delicate dick, involuntarily sucking and holding him in.

droplets of sweat covered his body, he was unable to control his movements at this point — his body started shuddering when it started to release — a solid spray of his piss hit the inside of your cunt, flowing down deeper, fusing with his seed from earlier. your pussy was already spent but the sensation of his hot stream inside made you erupt into yet another orgasm.

“shit”, you both growled in unison, and soon after — he laughed heartily into the crook of your neck.

he laughed. he outright started grinning and giggling uncontrollably. from pure joy and ecstasy. he felt closer than ever to you now — after marking you like a dog marking his territory, he felt like he truly owned you.

“bad boy”, you sighed, as if you were scolding a puppy, “you made a mess”

“no”, he smugly replied, “i marked you mine, gave you my all — my spit, my cum, my piss — they’re all inside you now”

[mxltifxnd0m]

sub! sammy headcanons ⟡ s. winchester

pairings: sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x fem! reader [can be read as gn/afab! reader]

word count: 1.5K

warnings: mentions of sub/dom dynamics, cursing, oral m/f receiving, praise, hair pulling, sam being a brat, pain/marking kink, bondage, pegging, choking, cock- warming, written with early seasons sam in mind, barely edited

a/n: MINORS DNI!! i will use the block button if you do :) anyways i was inspired by the whimper audio of jared in house of wax and it sparked this idea that i got around too lol

also, i will be posting a weekly recap of my week during this semester of school so go and check that out! ik i said i wouldn't be posting that often, but perhaps i lied, but then again its only the first week back lol

anyways enjoy! please like, comment, and reblog!! your feedback fuels me loll!

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

⟡ a preface? idk some pre thots before the headcanons lol

okay so in my mind, sam is a soft dom 100% but can be a switch when the situation calls for it

due to his stature, it can be hard to imagine sam as a sub, but trust me, he can be 

i think he’s more of a sub when he’s younger, like in the earlier seasons of the show  

but in the later seasons, he def would want more control in his sex life (would go more in-depth about this, but this is not the place for that lol)

anyways time for the headcanons loll

⟡⟡⟡

⟡ praise kink

is this even a debate?? The answer is no its not loll 

this goes both ways; he loves giving you praise but also receiving it 

thrives on the pet names you give him “pretty boy”, “handsome”, “good boy”, etc. 

makes his brain turn into literal mush and doubles down on whatever he’s doing to do, whether it's going down on you or fucking you straight into the mattress or thrusting up into you harder as you’re on top of him

⟡ certified muncher

mari did some NSFW headcanons a while back for sam (check that out!) and i mentioned that he was a certified muncher and i stand by it 100% 

sam is a pussy fiend™️

like do we not remember that sam had a sex dream about bela and he “went down” on her??? 

yeah, you can’t sit here and tell me he isn’t one  but yes he loves going down on you!! 

he’s obsessed with the taste of you and how warm you are as he drags his tongue through your slit 

if he gets just a taste, he's a fucking goner  he gets pussydrunk so fast  he’s damn good at it too

ruts his hips into the mattress unconsciously as he goes down on you because giving you pleasure gets him off 

is obsessed when you ride his face, like yes use his face to cum! 

like he loves the feeling of your thighs cushioning his ears as you grind against his face, his nose bumping your clit perfectly as his tongue is as deep as he can get in your cunt and lets out muffled groans, sending vibrations through you, and makes you rut into his face even harder 

could (and has) cummed untouched just by eating you out  there have been times when you had to physically haul him off of you because you were overstimulated to the point where it almost hurt 

“pretty boy, please.” your voice was wrecked as your hands were weaved into his brown hair and tugged him away from your cunt. he whined like a baby when you pulled him off, and sam looked like the poster boy of debauchery. the bottom half of his face slick with your arousal, lips puffy and pink as his hair was standing up in all different directions, and his eyes were glazed over with lust. 

⟡ hair pulling

speaking of his hair standing up in different directions  the man loves and i mean LOVES, getting his hair tugged/pulled at

sam likes it when you play with it, he curls up into your lap as you play with it, but as you start, you tug on it lightly; low moans and whimpers leave his mouth as he burrows into your lap and shoves his face in your crotch 

but he loves it when you tug on it as he goes down you, sending jolts of pleasure through his spine and to his cock 

one time, he came in his boxers when the two of you had an early morning makeout session, and you tugged a little too hard, and he let out a choked moan against your lips. you pulled away from him for him to shove his head in the crook of your neck, riding out his orgasm. when he came out of his hiding spot, he had a red hue on his cheeks as he looked sheepish

⟡ vocal

oh, this man is vocal [this whimper audio is what sparked this all]  at first, he was shy about making noise, only letting out small grunts and groans 

but as you guys were together for longer, you slowly coaxed it out of him 

“come on, make some noise for me, handsome; wanna hear you,” you said as you kissed around his hips and down his v-lines, scraping your teeth along the skin before kissing the tip of his cock. A small groan left his lips before a louder moan erupted from his chest as you took his tip in your mouth and suckled on it. 

But once he got over not making noise, oh god, he sounded beautiful as you overstimulated him and milked him for what he was worth as he let out noises and babbled out nonsense from his cum-drunk mind.

⟡ bratty

we’ve seen the sass on this man; he is 100% capable of being a brat 

but when he is one, he revels in being difficult

but it just means you get to put this 6’4 man in his place (you act like it doesn’t do wonders for your ego, but it does lol) 

when he acts like a brat, you’re rougher with him, and sam loves it  he loves feeling the sting of your hand against his ass or the scraping of your nails along his chest as you ride him 

this also means you edge him for hours, bringing him to the edge, his cock drooling precum and flushed red. tears leak from his eyes as he whines, the noise echoing through the empty motel room. 

“pl-please! I wanna cum.” sam’s voice was higher than it had ever sounded and absolutely ruined from the amount of times that you’ve denied him sweet relief. you clicked your tongue at him, “have you learned your lesson?” your hand was tight around the base of his cock as you planted teasing kisses around his pelvis and thighs, sucking hickeys wherever you so pleased.

⟡ pain/marking kink

sam isn’t one to love pain, considering the life he leads but he relishes in the pleasurable pain of your marks. 

loves to feel the slight sting on his back as he stretches or puts on his shirt from your nails biting into his skin and scratching it up  his thighs being sensitive and tender from the number of hickeys that you left in your wake as you blew him 

sam didn’t think he’d like being slapped, but you asked him if you could and he was surprised that he moaned in response as a red handprint bloomed on his face (you don’t do it often, but its always welcomed if you do it)

⟡ bondage

sam has the innocent facade down to a T, but he’s a kinky motherfucker behind those puppy dog eyes of his 

loves being tied up and at your mercy he doesn’t mind handcuffs, but he’s more partial to the silk ropes you use to tie his arms together and to the headboard and use him in any way you wanted 

he knows that he could get out of the ties if you wanted (you guys have a system in place to let the other know if they want to tap out), but he likes surrendering himself to you and knows that you’ll take good care of him 

when you get him all tied up and when you’re done with him, he’s practically shaking with pleasure and blissed out to the point where he doesn’t know where he is sometimes

sam in shibari makes you go feral (you learned how to do the ties and mentioned it to him one day and pleaded for you to do it on him)

⟡⟡⟡

bonus headcanons!

⟡ pegging

it was an experience that you both thoroughly enjoyed

he finally had gotten a piece of what you were like the day after of an intense night with sam  sam was surprised by the ache he felt, but it was a pleasant one 

this was one of the times when he was the loudest, and it’s one of his favorite things to do with you

⟡ choking

you don’t exactly choke him you either leave your hand on his neck to rest there as your hips swivel around his cock 

or you put the slightest amount of pressure on his neck, not cutting off his airflow but the blood flow, and when you let go, he was catapulted into an orgasm so hard his eyes crossed.

⟡ cock-warming

he loves it when, after an intense session, staying connected to you as long as he can 

sometimes, after you guys clean up and head for bed, he always asks if he could just stay in you since it’s comforting for him  You always oblige him since you love it, too 

It’s slightly uncomfortable at first; his soft cock doesn’t exactly sink in as smoothly compared to when he’s hard 

but the two of you sleep soundly until the morning, where he had grown harder in you as the night progressed, and it usually leads to slow morning sex

[fushipurro]

The Nature of Depravity

Masterlist

☆ Synopsis: You were an angel, a saint, one of the most profound icons worshipped by mortal kind. There wasn’t a soul in paradise or the fire below that didn’t know your name. It seemed that everywhere you went, you left behind a trail of all things good.

You were one of the best heaven had to offer ─ up until the day you fell from grace and into the hands of a sinner.

☆ Content: 18+ MDNI, AU - fantasy, religious imagery, mentions of blood/violence, implied murder, biting, creampie, scratching, p in v, foreplay, angst, everyone's bad at feelings, true form sukuna, tonguefucking, loss of virginity

☆ Word Count: 10.7k

It wasn’t like one day you woke up and decided to rebel against the heavenly utopia.Rather, it happened like any other day while you were making your rounds to several war-torn villages recently burnt to ash. You sought to aid in the recovery of those lucky to survive, but unbeknownst to you at the time, a group of demons were awaiting your arrival.

With one precise throw, they managed to impale one of your wings with iron weaponry, effectively knocking you from the sky. From there, everything that followed seemed to happen in the blink of an eye, and the next thing you knew, you found yourself here ─ bound in chains, brought before the King of Demons.

Ryomen Sukuna.

Otherwise known as the Fallen, or the Disgraced One, Sukuna was once a proud angel of similar status to your own. It’s unknown how his departure from Heaven came to be. Some claim that he was the bastard child of an unholy couple, while others claim he was never an angel to begin with ─ merely a forked-tongue creature living under the guise of your virtuous ways. At the end of the day, he shed his wings and took over the hellfire realm with unyielding strength.

You stand before him, trapped to an iron pole that burns you to the touch. The metal rod from earlier still marring your wing ─ no doubt broken as it lays flat at your side, oozing with golden, angelic blood.

“What do we have here?” The voice of king stretches across the room, inciting the demons that brought you here to bow in his presence. Something you already have no choice but to do. The intense pain and your lack of energy from the earlier fight affects you greatly now, killing any hope of refusal.

“My lord, we’ve capture this angel we now offer to you.”

“That much is obvious,” Sukuna responds coldly, rolling his eyes. He presses a bored fist to temple. “So what? You’ve come here seeking something from me, haven’t you? Go on, spit it out.”

The demon at your side sputters with nerves before another takes over, “This is no ordinary angel we’ve brought you,” he says, stating your name to the demon king, “We desire your protection, and means for our survival. Our families are poor and struggling to keep those foul humans out of our land.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then the sound of a cruel laughter meant to mock the demons uttering such filth.

“My lord?”

“Quiet,” he commands with no such amusement from moments ago. “If you’re too weak to fight then you deserve to lay down and die. Your kind is meant to be chewed up by the strong.”

“But Sir–“

A flick of his finger, and blood sprays out in all directions, some of its droplets even landing across your face. In the next second, that demon’s head rolls into view. The others behind you gasp in fear, a few even daring to step back only to meet the same demise.

“You’d do well to remember that everything you have belongs to me. Your homes, your land, your lives.” He laughs again. “All of it belongs to your one true king. Now get out of my sight before I change my mind on letting the rest of you live.”

The demons leave in a hurry, and all that remains is both you and the devil.

Sukuna approaches you slowly, like a predator cornering their prey, uncaring that he has to cross a puddle of black demon blood to reach you. With two fingers, he lifts you by your chin, allowing you to drink in the sight of someone who used to be just like you.

Black ink binds to his skin, visible across the expanse of his body from what you can make out. With four arms, and a set of eyes growing from the side of his face, he’s the textbook definition of a demon by human standards. But as an angel, well… you’ve seen more unique creations in the first sphere of your celestial hierarchy. Different doesn’t always have to mean repulsive.

“Such a pathetic sight,” he murmurs, moving your head as though you’re a fruit being examined for its quality. “A broken, pitiful excuse of an angel in my domain.” A grin appears on his face, ripe with his malevolent nature. “How the so-called mighty continue to fall.”

You should bite back. You should be saying something, anything to defend heaven from the one who for whatever reason forsake it, leaving it all behind to become the enemy of virtue. Yet, you’re unable to come up with anything like all your peers would.

Sukuna appears to be studying your expression carefully, finding himself perplexed by your lack of animosity.

“You’re not afraid?” he asks with a hint of curiosity, though his face remains neutral.

“Should I be?” you respond, and without much thought or consideration for the position you’re in. He could do whatever he wants with you, and it would as easy as it is for him to take a life.

He laughs again, letting it echo throughout the throne room.

“Most creatures tremble in fear before me. You even got to see what happens to those who annoy me.” He pauses, revealing sharpened fangs as his grows wide. “And yet, you ask me if you should be afraid. Well, I think the answer is quite obvious, don’t you agree?”

“If it is my fate to die by your hands, then so be it.” As you tell him those words, you feel your strength slipping. The weight of your head sinking deeper into his touch. Even your sight is starting to cloud with black spots.

“Fate? Hah! Don’t make me laugh.” He leans down, mere inches from your face. “You’re just like the rest of your kin, always preaching the gospel of a false king. Your paradise is nothing but a garden of lies.”

You can’t help but wonder from Sukuna’s words what happened to birth such hatred for your shared homeland.

“Being scared would do me no good. In my current state, I pose no threat to you,” you point out. “What reason do I have to fight you?”

He scoffs, “There’s a war going on, and you and I are on opposite sides.”

“That’s never mattered to me.”

He clicks his tongue, swapping the fingers under your jaw with his whole hand. His nails dig into your cheeks, but you can hardly feel it. You can hardly feel anything but coldness.

“I understand if it’s my time; do as you will with me.”

“You speak as if your life holds no value.” He seems to be evaluating you again, tracing his lower set of eyes across your broken wing with scrutiny in his gaze. The other two remain locked with yours. “I wonder if your dear paradise would even allow your return… you may as well be one of the fallen now.”

His words barely register before everything goes black and you succumb to the darkness swelling around your form. You’ve held the hands of many humans on their way into paradise, and many speak of death’s embrace being so warm and inviting.

But all you feel is cold.

So, so cold.

“Sleep well, angel. I’ll be seeing you again soon enough.”

Slowly but surely, everything starts falling back into place. Reality returning to your lifeless form as you awaken from your slumber.

With a tired groan, you open your eyes to an unfamiliar room. Nothing about where you are screams paradise, and in fact, it’s more of the opposite. Currently, you lay atop a large bed, surrounded by red silk sheets and pillows. The room itself is especially decorated with lavish details and portraits bordered with gold, its imagery ranging from acts of debauchery to icons painted with blood. Something about those specific paintings raises an unsettling feeling in the back of your mind.

“You’re awake,” a voice calls from the doorway. The richness of his voice makes it obvious without turning your head that you’re not actually dead, but still within Sukuna’s castle of sin. “How are you feeling?” he asks, though his demeanor remains calm, devoid of any underlying concern or true empathy.

You try and sit up, but quickly fall back from the pain, almost forgetting the trauma you had been through. You only realize now the number of bandages wrapping your body, the majority contorting your wing into a makeshift sling.

“You saved me?” you ask with disbelief in your tone. You thought for sure your time was up, yet your heart still beats, quicker now in Sukuna’s presence. “Why?”

“Yes, I saved you. And as for why…” He crosses his arm, maintaining his cold stare. “Let’s just say I have my reasons.” A subtle smirk appears.

“Whatever the case may be, thank you, for not letting me die.”

“Don’t mistake my kindness for charity,” he says bluntly. “In due time, you’ll be fulfilling your usage to me. That is the only reason you’re still alive.”

You raise an eyebrow at his words. “What use would you have of me?”

That devilish grin makes a reappearance on his face as he strides closer to the bed, towering over you. “You’ll find out soon enough. For now, you need only to focus on your recovery.”

So much for getting any answers or having any chance of leaving.

“Charity or not ─ I still thank you,” you say back to him, smiling all the while despite the fact you’re now akin to a bird confined in a gilded cage. Better than an iron cell, but not the same as the freedom that calls to you. At the end of the day, however, and for whatever reason he has, he still chose to help you.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he chuckles, eyes darkening. “It’s far too early for that.”

Sukuna’s amusement fades as the doors to your room open, revealing a white-haired servant holding a tray of sorts.

“My lord,” they greet, bowing to the King of Demons.

“Good, you’re here, Uraume. See to her recovery now that’s awake. I have work that needs to be done,” he announces, stepping out of the way for the one called Uraume to approach. Sukuna eyes fixate on you again as their servant helps you sit up. “I’ll warn you now, angel. You’re in my domain.” His tone is stern, full of unspoken promise. “If you so much as try to escape, I’ll clip both of your wings and leave you to rot this time around.”

You can’t help but laugh at the irony in his words. “Don’t worry, I think we both know I’m in no condition to leave. Nor do I plan on trying either.”

Despite the humor of it, one look at your wing is enough to question what life will be like for you from now on. There’s a question that when you recover, will you ever be able to fly again? You can’t help but feel off about the dull coloring of your wings now.

All angels radiate a celestial glow across the span of their perfectly white wings ─ like light scattered through a prism in every hair and fiber. That glow is seemingly gone from yours, and you think you spot some gray forming at the base. To be absent of that symbol of your connection, one can only assume it to be a sign of what’s to come.

“See that you don’t,” he remarks, turning away to let Uraume work.

Uraume makes careful work of changing out your bandages. They work quick and with deft fingers, trying their best not to aggravate your wing further. All the while, you face away towards the head of the bed, hiding your now exposed chest with your arms. You feel them pause, tracing a finger down your back. In your mind, you assume it to be one of the many marks left behind from the demons that captured you, and thus, you don’t focus too much on it.

You fail to notice Sukuna’s gaze transfixed on you from the doorway. Although silent, a darkness looms over his features. He exits the room moments later, shutting the door with more force than necessary, making your body jolt.

It’s a while before Uraume finishes, and they leave you with some fresh fruit to dine on. While you’re supposed to be resting, you find it difficult, especially after learning you’ve already been asleep for several days. That knowledge is precisely why you ditch the sheets to walk out onto the veranda connected to your room.

The moon is high in the sky, basking the courtyard garden with its sheer, red-toned light. Down here in the realm of fire, it’s as though the moon forever mirrors the flames conjured up from demons. That, or it reflects the many pools of blood from a millennium of suffering.

“Don’t you look like a broken bird,” Sukuna comments from behind you. For someone of his stature, it’s a wonder you didn’t hear him approaching.

“In a way, I am,” you muse, moving your eyes forward again. “One that flew too far from her nest.”

“Fallen from the nest and into the hands of a monster, how your precious fate seems to curse you.”

“Monster?” You snap your head in his direction with an incredulous look. “I hope you’re not referring to yourself with that comment.”

“You would deny what I am?” His voice is tinged with arrogance as he comes up beside you, not bothering to spare a glance. “I am the King of Demons, the most despised of life’s creation. How am I not a monster?”

“I’m still alive, aren’t I?” you respond, tilting your head. “Whatever the case may be, you chose to let me live, and even saw to the treatment of my injuries. You could’ve kept me in chains, plucking my feathers one by one, but you didn’t. You even have me in a room made for royalty.”

He scoffs, but you don’t let it stop you from continuing.

“Your title aside, I don’t assume anyone to be a monster ─ only a victim of circumstance. Is someone truly born evil, or is evil nurtured?”

Sukuna appears mildly surprised by your speech, giving you his attention. You spot the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lip. “A victim of circumstance, you say?” he repeats with an added air of mockery. “You raise an interesting point, but that doesn’t make you any less of a fool. Tell me, do you believe that because you’re an angel, you’re exempt from the original sin?”

“Not at all,” you answer quickly, and full of conviction. There’s not a drop of fear or hesitation as you openly speak your mind to Sukuna. “All of us ─ angels, demons, humans… we’re all doing what we can with the lives we were given. Angels rise and fall; some sinners beg for forgiveness while others let it define their nature. What’s important to me is how you treat others.”

“By that logic, what of the demons that maimed you? What of me, who has already killed in your presence?” Sukuna refutes. “Most would agree those to be the act of monsters.”

“Does being a demon mean you automatically deserve to be punished for the title you brandish? Does one act define your whole being? The demons who brought me before you sought help and protection ─ for that, I cannot blame them for their actions upon me. What difference is there between heaven and hell if I’m blinded by namesakes instead of looking at all the good and evil that can come from anyone, even of my own kind?”

Sukuna appears almost at a loss of words from your rambling. In truth, he wasn’t expecting such philosophy from someone so high in the celestial hierarchy, but he can see now why the humans would think to praise you as a saint.

“You make it sound so simple… so noble.” He’s looking at you now a deeper gleam in his eyes, intrigued enough to forgive your bold speech to him of all people. Most beings would never get away talking to him like you have after all. “So you would say there’s no difference between you and me after everything you’ve witnessed? How many in heaven would even agree with you?”

“I believe morality is a wild card that’s been muddied one too many times. There’s good and evil in everyone, even the almighty creators that chose to allow lesser beings to suffer in order to achieve growth. I can’t say I know many who would agree with me, but I understand their feelings and I’ll continue to trust in the potential for good.”

“You speak with a passion despite your predicament,” he huffs amusingly. “Still, I must admit, you have a unique way of thinking for an angel that’s uncommonly seen.”

You acknowledge his words with a hum, drifting your eyes to your wings lying flat at your side. “Most likely why heaven doesn’t seem too keen on my return,” you murmur, referencing the missing glow. “In return for saving me, I’ll see if I can be of use to you.” You’ll need a new purpose if you are to fall from grace.

Sukuna chuckles, the sound almost sinister. “An angel, offering her services to a demon. How… poetic.”

Silence takes over as you both admire the red glow of the garden. All that can be heard is running water from the fountain pond, and the occasional splashing of its scaled inhabitants.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You may,” Sukuna responds with one of his lower eyes pointed your way. “Whether or not I’ll answer is a different matter.”

You choose your next words carefully. This back-and-forth debate has been an unexpected treat after the pain you’ve endured to get here.

“You were an angel once too, yes? What happened that led your fall?”

His jaw clenches from the sudden inquiry. “There was a time I too preached the seven virtues; as for how I came to become the monstrosity I am today is a long, dark story.”

After telling you this, Sukuna starts to walk away.

“I see… I hope one day I’ll have the chance to hear it.”

He scoffs, giving you a sidelong stare over his shoulders. “I’ll consider your words, but it’s best now you return to your quarters and rest. Don’t go flying off anywhere.” His twisted laugh echoes from down the halls, and despite the cruelty of it, you can’t help but smile.

Days pass, and while you’d like to say you’ve gotten into a routine, even an angel like yourself isn’t immune to going stir crazy. To be grounded like this for as long as you have now is unnatural, and as your feathers seem to darken each day ─ so do your thoughts on the situation.

Currently, you’re seated out on the veranda again, admiring the servants working from afar to keep the courtyard clean and the shrubbery trimmed to the king’s liking. There’s a feeling that bubbles from within at the sight of those taking to their wings to reach the heights of certain trees, or cleaning along the palace rooftops. A feeling you aren’t sure just what to call as of now.

“Bored, are you?” That familiar tone reappearing. His arrival is the only bearable part of your stay as he forces you out of your own mind.

“I have the gift of life; I could never be bored,” you state, not taking your eyes off the demons that cling to the skies. “I am however… longing, I’d say.”

Sukuna’s eyes find you, moving from your face down to your wing. You’ve gotten to where you can feel his burning stare at times, even when he’s not around. While it may come off as intrusive, you find it a comfort.

“You miss it, don’t you? Being up in the skies, untethered from the earth.” he asks with understanding, but also that same recurring hint of his typical mockery.

“The wind between each feather, the sights you can only see from above…” You can’t help but sigh at what now feels like a distant memory. You’re certain your wing will recover, but whether you can maintain flight is a mystery in itself until the time is right. “Will you tell me now what purpose you have in keeping me around?”

Purpose is something you need right now to stave off the thoughts.

“Impatient, are we?” He holds your gaze silently for a moment before continuing. “I have my reasons, but I’m not ready to divulge them. For now, let me make it clear that you’re too valuable of a prize for me not to keep around.”

“A prize, huh?” You ponder the thought, leaning your body against one of the columns for support. “Am I even worthy if my connection to paradise has been severed?” you mumble on instinct, not intending for him to hear such thoughts you never knew you had.

He does though, and it leads to him furrowing his brows, and averting his stare to elsewhere in his domain.

“Who cares about heaven?” he starts, keeping his voice low and full of what you believe to be spite. You wouldn’t be surprised if he rolled his eyes as well. “Even if they abandoned you, your existence still holds value to me. Fallen or not, you’re a walkingcontradiction that’s piqued my interest. As far as I’m concerned, heaven was holding you back from your true potential.”

Moments like these are why you’ll argue with him for as long as necessary to prove he’s more than what he makes himself out to be.

“Is that so?” You smile. His eyes flicker back to you at the sound of your giggling. “You’re something else, you know that?”

Sukuna finds himself grinning as well. “Am I?” he questions while reaching to your feathers, running his fingers along them with a delicate touch. “And what would that be in your eyes?”

“The best way I can explain it is that you’re simply you ─ Sukuna.” You lean back one hand, gesturing with the other. “You try and present yourself as some monstrous demon that burns everything you touch, but here you are treating me with such care. I don’t doubt your strength, but I believe there’s more to you than meets the eye.”

“You’re a perceptive one, I’ll give you that, angel.” A beat of silence, and the flash of what could be read as vulnerability in his typically guarded demeanor. “But remember, I’m still a demon. My nature is not a kind one, so don’t go forgetting that detail.”

You chuckle, “I won’t, but I stand by my point. It’s my nature to see the good in everything that shares the same life as me.”

“Sounds tiring,” he deadpans, rolling his eyes. He removes his hand from your wing, tucking it back into his robe.

“Tiring? Oh contraire.” You smirk, feeling a spark of confidence ─ and maybe some defiance. “Do you only see the bad in everything? Always assuming the worst of others and thus feel the need to extinguish their life before they have a chance to bear their fangs? That to me seems tiring if you must always need your guard up.”

His face darkens considerably, and you realize too late that you’ve struck a nerve.

“You know nothing of what I’ve been through or why I do the things I do, so don’t pretend that you do,” he spits. The underlying wrath in his tone has your feathers puffing up. “Power is all that keeps me alive and keeps me going in this god-forsaken world. When you’ve been betrayed and hunted like I have, you learn quickly that you can only truly rely on yourself and not to trust others, especially not an angel.”

Guilt pangs in your chest alongside hurt from his choice words. You don’t regret what you said, but you maybe regret the timing of it, or not having considered his feelings before letting it all out. Life isn’t as fair to everyone as it might’ve been for you, but his anger has shown you the likelihood that his lifestyle was something nurtured ─ not the nature of sin one might argue.

He couldn’t have been born evil. It had to have been the acts of others that left him no choice but to become the embodiment of said evil.

And you can’t blame him for it, nor can you turn back time to right all of the wrongs. Fate must have brought you here for a reason, and in time you hope Sukuna realizes he doesn’t have to suffer alone. Even if he never pleads for forgiveness, you’ll show him that life is more than the negatives.

“I apologize if I upset you.” You stand up from your seat, tipping your head. A sudden act of submission even he can’t argue with. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be returning to my quarters now to rest.”

His glare seems to soften, if only a slight change. “…Fine. Go rest,” he quietly sighs, shifting back towards his garden view.

You take your leave, unknowingly leaving behind one of your fallen feathers in your previous spot. Sukuna notices this, lifting it to the moon’s light, watching it filter through the hairs. He kisses his teeth before stalking back to his own quarters across the yard.

You don’t see Sukuna much after that, almost like he’s trying to avoid you. Is he really that upset with you? It begs the question whether he still wants you around, or if his anger outweighs your worth enough to kill you and be done with it.

It’s another night where you find yourself out in the garden, enjoying the semblance of freedom it offers. You no longer have a bandage around your wing ─ which now is half covered in shade coloring ─ and Uraume has instructed you to begin stretching it to work back into a routine of physical therapy.

It can’t hurt to see if you can at least lift yourself off the ground, right?

So, you stand at the center of what appears to be Sukuna’s training grounds, as it offers plenty of space to move. With the moonlight against your back, you stretch out your wings in full, covering a good portion of the area around your body. You feel nervous yet eager to fly, enough to push past the dull pain you feel when you finally begin to lift yourself up off the ground.

Already you’re sweating ─ so out of shape from rest ─ but you don’t want to give up. It’s too soon and knowing now you can be off the ground makes you hopeful that this is the day you can take to the skies again. Only you don’t realize how much strain you’re putting on yourself, and how your unharmed wing must compensate more fiercely.

“Come on…” you strain, flapping harder than before when a sudden jolt of pain pierces through your wing, sending you crashing back into the dirt with a yelp. It only gets worse as your weight ended up landing on your recovering wing.

“You idiot!” Sukuna appears, shouting with alarm as he comes up to your side. His usual calm demeanor having been replaced with both anger and concern. “You’re not fully healed yet, what were you thinking?” he snarls, forcing you to sit up off your crooked wing.

You start to tear up from the pain, feeling a wave of emotions crashing into you all at once. Feelings you never knew existed outside humanity. You let it all out by sobbing into the dirt, and out of sheer frustration, you begin clawing at it too, angrily flapping your wings like a child throwing a tantrum.

Sukuna is surprised by your sudden outburst. The sound of your tears and the flapping of your wings is like a desperate cry for the freedom you once felt. He grabs at your shoulders, commanding you with his voice, “Cut it out, you’re only making it worse.”

“It’s already worse!” you shout back at him, surprising him yet again with this new side of you. “Let’s face it, Sukuna ─ my wing is ruined, I’m falling into ruin, there’s nothing left of me!” Your cracked voice tears through the garden, its serenity now clouded in the anger and hopelessness you feel.

This is the first moment of your life you’ve ever felt suffering like the mortals you’ve guided, and for the reason to be something as selfish as self-loathing… it shows how far you’ve fallen from grace.

“Stop being dramatic,” he growls. “If you don’t give yourself time to heal, then how can say for certain you’ll never fly again?”

You throw yourself into Sukuna’s front, unsure how else to cope with the weight of your emotions. An angel seeking comfort in a demon. You may be free falling into sin, but you have to agree with the poetry of it like Sukuna suggested.

He wasn’t expecting you to suddenly cling to him, but besides the mild annoyance he feels, he doesn’t make any moves to push you away. His awkward embrace is warmer than you would’ve thought, but this is the ruler of flames we’re talking about.

You don’t feel as cold as you have when he arms shield you from the world, and the depths of your mind.

When your tears settle and your breathing mellows, Sukuna lifts you from the ground with ease. He carries you back to your room, placing you gently down onto the edge of your bed. His hand moves with practiced care to your wing, feeling for any discomfort. You wince of course, and he lets a frustrated sigh after a minute of testing.

“I’ll send Uraume in to deal with this,” he tells you, and you notice his tone lacks the usual authority or contempt. He shifts his gaze from your wing to your face, reading for any signs of life in your distant eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know,” you reply, and it’s the truth. As an angel, you were designed to only feel emotions such as humility, kindness, patience… but now you don’t know what to label yourself with, or how to get through it. “What’s wrong with me?” you ask, not daring to look up from your knees.

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” One of his hands comes up under your jaw, lifting your chin to meet his crimson gaze. All four eyes staring into yours with the visage of understanding. “You’ve lost your light is all.”

Your light, your home, your paradise.

“I’ve lost everything.”

“You’re still alive, aren’t you?” His thumb traces your skin.

“Is that even worth it anymore? I’m no prize in this state, merely a broken bird like you had claimed.”

He furrows his brows, annoyed that you’re using his words against him as you wave the proverbial white flag with your voice.

“Don’t talk like that,” he snaps ─ harsh, but a necessary evil. “If you had no value, I would’ve killed you long ago. You have the mindset I’ve only seen in one other of your kind, and your knowledge and resilience are quite admirable in my eyes.” He lets go of your chin, stepping away from the bed. As he moves to leave, he stops, and without turning to look at you he says, “In time, you’ll realize how worthy you are.”

You weren’t sure if it could get any worse, but as the days continue to pass, you feel yourself sinking deeper into the abyss that is your psyche.

Uraume has been hovering around more often than not, urging you to stay in bed and rest, but you hate it. You hate this feeling of being powerless, of being empty, of not being able to live as you once had. From the moment you could fly, you were wandering the human realm, helping everyone you came across from the largest of creatures to the smallest of insects.

It’s your nature to help others no matter the cost. What’s not is putting yourself first. But now, everything’s changing ─ faster than you could have ever imagined.

You think this is what humans would refer to as fear, and what an unpleasant feeling it is.

Sukuna comes by every day, sometimes more than once to check in on you, and each time he finds you in the same, curled up position with your face buried in the silk.

He’s had enough of this slothful behavior.

“You need to eat, angel,” he says firmly, tapping his finger loudly on the bed post.

“’m not hungry,” you respond, though your voice is muffled and weak.

He lets out a frustrated sigh, and the force he puts into tapping his finger threatens to crack the wood. “You can’t just ignore your needs forever,” he retorts, “You need to eat, now.”

“Why do you care so much?” You don’t mean for the words to sound as harsh as they do, but luckily Sukuna is a patient man, most of the time.

“I didn’t save you just to watch you die in such a pathetic, mortal way.”

“Haven’t I always appeared pathetic since the day we met?” Bound in chains, bloodied with no celestial shine. Weak, broken, a pitiful excuse of heaven’s most revered angel. Complete, and utterly pathetic.

He kisses his teeth. “You’ve had your moments, but if you weren’t so busy feeling sorry for yourself, then you would see all that you are. All that you can be now.”

You’re silent for a few moments as you ponder his words. His unrestraint in speaking his mind may not always be a virtue, but it’s a comfort you’ve come to welcome all the same.

You turn your head his way and ask, “Was it like this for you when you fell from grace?”

“I wasn’t moping like you are, if that’s what you mean.” He then sighs and takes a seat along the edge of the bed, cautious in avoiding your sprawled out wing ─ which has become increasingly black as the days pass by. “But yes, I too had to overcome human emotion to get where I am now. It won’t last forever, I assure you.”

“You were right before,” you murmur, staring past Sukuna into your view of the garden. “I don’t know all the struggles you’ve had to face, or anyone for that matter. It doesn’t matter if I’ve visited one village or a thousand burnt to ash. Until now, I’ve never truly felt pain like this in my heart.”

Both set of eyes look down at you, but not in the sense that you’re beneath him. His gaze is understanding, regretful even for how he spoke to you before. You’ve stirred up Sukuna’s emotions without realizing, forcing him to come to terms with how he feels.

“What you’ve seen in the past has always been the aftermath of war. Until you’ve faced suffering yourself, you never would understand the pain behind it.” There’s a bitterness lacing his words as he remembers that period of his life prior to becoming king.

The moment that changed the course of his life forever.

“For whatever you’ve been through, I’m so sorry.” Tears rush down the side of your eyes, collecting into the sheets. “I always believed heaven had everyone’s backs, even those who hadn’t redeemed themselves, but I was wrong, so wrong. I’m just as guilty as every other celestial being for turning a blind eye and letting you suffer.”

Sukuna’s demeanor softens up at your apology, and he reaches a sharpened nail out to catch one of your tears. “Your apology is unnecessary… but I appreciate it nonetheless.”

The two of you sit in silence as you let the tears flow freely. The only sound aside from your own being the windchime Uraume had put up along the garden doors one evening. It’s the normal glass bulb shape, but the papery sheet that catches the wind is black, with red-spider lilies painted across. The flower’s coloring continuously reminds you of another with that same hue painted four times over.

Your stomach eventually disrupts the scene, cueing what you both were already aware of.

“Sounds like someone’s hungry; are you going lie again?” he teases, now poking his finger into your back.

“I guess I could try and eat something,” you playfully reply, moving to sit up. You feel discomfort immediately in your head, your vision darkening in turn from how long it’s been since you’ve last had a proper meal.

“Rest,” he orders after noticing your grimace. “I’ll have food brought to you immediately.”

Before he gets too far, you call out to him, “Sukuna?” He turns, giving you his attention. “Thank you,” you tell him, the moonlight hitting your face just as you smile. Its red glow is accentuated by your glossy cheeks, almost like a blush.

“You’re welcome,” he replies gruffly, but with the hint of his own smile hidden buried under his scarf.

From there, the days only get easier. Resting has felt less of a routine, and with Uraume’s help, physical therapy has been going well. There’s plenty of new growth in the form of pinfeathers across your wingspan, and the oldest of such white at the very tips still. It appears your broken wing will forever remain deformed ─ no thanks to the stunt you pulled ─ but you find yourself embracing the change.

The same can be said for many things now in your new life, such as how you’ve come to enjoy the night over day. The moon’s light is a comforting touch, as is the serenity felt in the late hours. You let that light guide your fingers across your wings, preening the darkened feathers to look your best.

Another change you’ve noticed are the appearance of marks stemming from the center of your back. According to Uraume, they were present at the time of your arrival, but since then have grown to wrap around your body in a filigree type pattern. You’re reminded of Sukuna’s own markings as you examine your body, and you’ve begun to question if this is how heaven marks their fallen.

Reaching the feathers closest to that part of your body is a challenge, and one you’re struggling to overcome. Angels typically preen each other’s wings in a show of chastity, and companionship. You’re certain Uraume would help if you ask, but the idea stirs a sense of intimacy now for whatever reason.

“Having trouble there?” Sukuna’s voice cuts through the night from behind you as always, making you jolt in surprise.

“Oh– uhh, yeah, just a bit.”

“It’s not an easy task reaching those feathers on your own, is it?” he muses with a snickering laugh. His footsteps are silent as he comes ever closer to the edge of the veranda.

“It isn’t, but I’m positive there’s feathers there ready to be unfurled.” You have a focused look on your face as you try once more to bend your arms in outrageous ways to try and reach.

“Let me help,” he says, brushing your hands away.

Sukuna doesn’t wait for your response before his fingers deftly land on the center of your back. His touch sparks a shiver down your spine, arching yourself upright. Your wings have never felt this sensitive before and it’s becoming increasingly difficult to keep them steady for him to work.

There’s a sudden influx of emotions you don’t recognize bubbling up, and a heat that pools in the base of your body. At times, it feels like Sukuna is purposely working slow to make your feathers all nice and pretty. His knuckles brush you in a way that hitches your breath.

He hums closely by your ear, “Your wings are quite sensitive here, aren’t they?”

Has his voice always sounded so melodic? So intoxicating? From the way he laughs at your reaction, you can tell he’s enjoying himself. Like he knows what’s going on in your mind.

He does.

You shoot up from your position with sudden urgency. “T-thanks for the help Sukuna, if you’ll excuse, I’ll see you later and I hope you have a wonderful rest of your night!” you stammer out with the hurry of a freefalling eagle, retreating back into your quarters before he has any chance to respond.

Sukuna can’t say he wasn’t caught off guard by this, but at the sight of your reddened face and eyes desperate to avoid his ─ he’ll forgive you.

On the other side of your folding screen door, you fall to your knees in a near pant to catch your breath whatever that was about. Temptation has never looked so good than in the form of Ryomen Sukuna, for all that he is. And while you came so close to the edge of a decadent abyss, you realized something.

You’ve grown fond of Sukuna, and in ways that can only be described with one word.

Sin.

From the window view of his study, Sukuna catches you out of the corner of his eyes stepping out from your room and into the courtyard. He doesn’t think much of it having gotten used to you being at the core of his picturesque view night after night. The moment he realizes you’re heading towards his training yard, however, is the same moment he ditches the scroll he was reading to follow..

He’s aware Uraume has given you the all-clear to attempt flight, but that was but a few hours before now. Truthfully, he should’ve known better. Of course you’re going to start right away.

Leaving his study, he makes haste to catch up, hoping to avoid what happened last time. He stands at the edge of the arena stealthily, watching as you stretch your now fully black wings to their limits. The first few flutters betray the confidence you showed in your steps to this place. He can tell you’re fighting a battle in your mind, but to Sukuna ─ those thoughts are useless.

“Why did you stop?” he asks, closing the distance after watching you deflate to your knees into the dirt.

“What if I get hurt again?” you confirm his inner thoughts with that meek voice. Foolish angel.

“What if you do?” he retorts, blunt as ever. “Are you just going to stay grounded forever because you’re afraid of a little pain? You’ve come this far; it would be a shame to give up now.”

“I don’t want to be on the ground ─ hell, I’ve been waiting for this day for so long and now that it’s here…” Your voice trails off, falling back to the low, despairing tone. “I’m afraid it won’t be the same.”

“It won’t be the same,” he says with an added huff. If anyone is in the position to give tough love, it’s Sukuna. “You will always carry that scar”-he gestures with a pointed claw at your wing-“a reminder of your fall, but that doesn’t mean you can’t fly. You won’t know until you get back up in the air.”

“But if I can’t, then what use could I possibly be?”

Sukuna crosses his upper pair of arms, leaving his lower pair to hang off his waist, one finger tapping away at the fabric at his hip. You’re in despair, and your main concern is whether you’re useful or not?

If you were anyone else, he wouldn’t think twice about making you his next meal. The weak are meant to be chewed up, but why can’t you see the potential you have already? (It’s standing right in front of you after all with a scowl on their face.)

“If wings were the defining point of who you are, then would you claim me to be useless?”

The day Sukuna fell from grace was the same day he tore his own wings from his back, tossing aside the last reminder of that accursed realm to embrace his demonic half in full.

“Of course not!” you refute with the same fire he saw when you argued how he isn’t not a monster. You’re not a lost cause yet if you can still manage that passion.

“Then get up and show me what you’re made of,” he commands. “You’re an angel ─ albeit a fallen one. Not the same broken bird you were before.”

Your eyes flash with realization, and with newfound determination, you’re back on your feet.

“Okay,” you breathe. “I just need to return to my roots.”

“Return to your roots? What exactly do you mean?”

“You said it yourself,” you casually say in passing, walking over to where the courtyard backs up against the edge of a cliff overlooking Sukuna’s domain. “I may be damaged, but I’m still a bird, aren’t I?”

Sukuna’s eyes widen.

“And where exactly are you going with this, dove?”

You can’t possibly be doing what he thinks you’re going to do. He doesn’t want you to get hurt, but he also wants you to see this through. Impressive, angel. A manic grin appears.

“Sometimes all a bird needs is for their parent to push them from the nest. Dive right in, even if you’re too afraid to try.”

You spread your arms out with your wings, backing off the edge and into freefall.

Sukuna’s at the cliff’s edge in a fraction of a second, his heart beating uncharacteristically loud in his chest as he watches you fall. It’s a harrowing sight, even for him, but the relief he feels when you manage to catch the wind between your feathers is unlike the emotions he felt before your arrival. Since that day, it’s like he’s had to fall from grace all over again with you, only that much harder this time around.

His smile doesn’t falter either, morphing from smug arrogance to a proud shine. The way you’ve taken to the skies is like you never left. If Sukuna’s domain is fire, then yours is the air that fans the flames in a mesmerizing dance. With a heavy thrust, you push yourself up ─ higher than his palace and the mountain’s peak before diving back down, returning to Sukuna’s side.

“I did it,” you mumble victoriously, a crazed grin of your own that Sukuna loves to see. “I did it!” you repeat, this time turning that smile towards Sukuna, with eyes brighter than any glow a halo could muster.

“See what happens you don’t give up?”

You lunge forward, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. “Thank you, Sukuna,” you tell him breathlessly.

He finds himself liking this moment better than when you soaked his robes with tears.

“For what?” he asks, placing a hand on the crown of your head.

“For the care, the healing, the late-night conversations… for everything. For saving me.” Your arms tighten almost possessively around him. “You’ve shown me a kindness like no one before, and I am forever in your debt.”

Sukuna brushes his hand from your hair down to your jawline, tilting your head upwards. Something about the way your eyes shine from his doing makes his cold heart feel that much warmer.

“What kind of saint or angel are you to find kindness in a beast like me?” he mutters, lowering his head closer to yours.

“Like you said ─ a fallen angel, but an angel nonetheless.” His face now a mere breath away from yours. “And like I’ve told you ─ I see you only for what you are, demon or not. To me, you’ve always been just Sukuna.”

The moment your lips meet is when the cord connecting you to paradise officially snaps, thrusting you into an unholy matrimony. You feel a burning sensation come along the markings that brandish you, but it doesn’t hurt. Right now, all that runs through your blood is one thing, and one thing only.

Desire.

As your body rises in heat, so does the intensity of your kissing. You’re doing whatever feels right, and most of all good. Sukuna feels this, just as you feel his lips smiling against your own. His tongue dips into your mouth and for the first time in your life, your body lets off a moaning sound.

It drives Sukuna near feral hearing it, and with his lower pair of arms he tugs you close to body, enough to feel his own desire straining for relief. His mind is quickly becoming a mess of both need and longing.

He pulls you down with him to the ground, settling you over his hips with your legs at either side. Those same hands now driven with lust roam your body in tangent with yours that have found their way to his chest, feverishly working to unveil his body. He grows tired of the struggle, and in a split second he severs your robes clean off, and his to follow. Only now do your lips part, leaving a string of drool to keep you connected.

The moon offers the perfect glow needed to highlight your features. He leans back onto his elbows, admiring the rise and fall of your heated chest, the red hue clinging to your feathers, the half-lidded stare revering his own sculpted figure… there’s only one word that comes to mind when he sees your soul laid out before him.

“Beautiful,” he says breathlessly and in full confidence. His upper set of hands trace your sides before coming into contact with your chest. He brushes the padding of his thumbs over each nipple. His other two hands holding you by the hips, pulling you down deeper onto his core. “Oh, so beautiful, my sweet angel.”

You gasp at the feeling of something twitching below you ─ or rather, somethings. The sound makes Sukuna groan again with pleasure, the slit along his stomach opening to reveal a second mouth before your very eyes. To others, this would be enough to incite fear. But for you, it only ignites a fire between your thighs.

“Come here,” he demands, rhetorically it seems as he pulls you right over the freshly parted maw. A thick tongue flicks upward along your sex, frazzling your mind with symphony of whines. He groans again ─ much deeper this time ─ feeling his four eyes roll back into his head. “I knew from the moment I laid eyes on you that you would be the most divine tasting meal I’ve had to date.”

Sukuna finds himself struggling to keep you still as his tongue enters your body. It’s at this moment the veil of your chastity is no more, your purity claimed by the King of Demons.

Your body continues to squirm as his tongue shifts around your velvety walls, your wings continuously twitching and fluttering when it taps your sweet spot.

“So sensitive,” he laughs with that familiar mocking sound, but his eyes show only a carnal need with how pleasantly you respond to his touch.

“Feels s’good,” you mewl, a breathy sigh staggering out. You try to balance yourself with your hands, digging into his shoulders with talon-like grip.

“Yeah?” He continues to toy with your breasts, pulling one into his mouth. The feeling of his teeth grazing your flesh ─ eager to mark ─ has you gasping once more. “I know it does, you needy girl.”

“I need you,” you confess with a depraved stare that’s only heightened by the glow of the bloodied moon. It’s so close to mirroring his own, like your soul has already been claimed by the devil himself. After your purity, that’s the next step in this journey of love.

He chuckles, slithering his tongue back into his mouth. “Let’s see if you can handle me then without breaking.”

You’re confused at first what he means until suddenly you’re lifted into the air, watching as he pulls both cocks from his hakama. You knew they were big, but you had thought it was due to how they stacked over the other. How wrong you were to not expect the nine-foot-tall demon to be as equally blessed below.

“What do you think?” he teases, tilting his head to the side slightly.

“Why don’t you let me show you what I’m made of? I’m tougher than I look, you know.”

“Good girl. That you are,” he praises, helping you align yourself with one of his cocks. “I look forward to seeing you worship me with your body.”

It doesn’t take much for you to sink down onto him in full, your cunt a dripping mess thanks to his saliva and your freshly discovered arousal ─ like an untapped spring now bursting forth. There’s little pain that follows from the stretch, your body instead erupting with pleasure. It’s as though you were made for him. That your purpose in life was always to please him in every way possible. Everything you experienced so far was to bring you to this very moment in time.

“Embrace your instinct,” Sukuna says as he guides your starting motions. “Let it fuel your potential.”

You work with his motions, eyes fluttering shut at the incredible sensation. “I’m so full,” you sigh, and he chuckles.

“You’re doing so well; I knew you had it in you,” he purrs. “Soon enough you’ll be taking both in one hole. Would you like that?” You clench hard around him at that, and he can tell you’re getting ever closer.

“W-w-what is this feeling?” You move your hand downwards with unknown purpose to where his body meets yours, fingers gliding along his upper shaft, down every vein, and even rubbing it against your own clit for more of that wonderous sensation that’s building.

Using his own dick to pleasure yourself? My, how far you’ve fallen into his sinful embrace. The primal need he has for you is exceeding what he thought possible. How perfect you are for him ─ a match made in hell.

“It’s euphoria, my dear. Heaven,” he mutters gruffly, hissing with pleasure. “Let it break you and I promise you’ll feel better than ever before.”

“I need you, ‘Kuna.” Your voice comes out as a pleading whine that hitches his breath. The words a desperate plea for something you’re still learning to embrace.

“Tell me what you want, angel,” he growls, his eyes searing into yours. A set of hands glide upwards, one over your breast, the other at the base of your skull. “Say it,” he commands this time, pointed nails digging into your flesh, pushing even deeper into your body.

“I want you ─ no, I need you, Sukuna,” you declare with such staggering force to match your desire.

“Then you’ll have me. All of me,” he responds in turn, flashing his canines greedily. “So take me, angel. Take me for whatever you need.”

That’s all you need to feel your inhibitions slip away. You lean forward until his back is against the ground, kissing him from his lips down to his neck, feeling an urge like no other to sink your teeth into his flesh ─ to mar him as yours.

“More,” you mumble, moving your hips faster, intent on reaching that cascading high. “More, more, I need all of you, ‘Kuna.”

“You’ll have it all. Everything,” he promises in the form of a whisper, so close to your ear. “As much as you need, as much as you desire. I’ll give you everything the world has to offer if you stay by my side.”

You dig your nails into his body as your own begins to unravel before him. Waves of pleasure crashing down with all its might as you preach his name for all to hear. Tears slip from your eyes as you curl in around him, and he soaks each one up with his tongue as you ride out the high.

“Fuck, you’re so… divine,” you purr a sinful tune. “Nothing ─ not even in paradise ─ has ever made feel this way.”

Forget being an angel. In the state you are now, Sukuna believes you could put a succubus to shame. You feel and look so incredible on top of your new throne. Divine as you put it.

“You feel like heaven yourself,” he claims through ragged breaths. “Everything about you is addicting; you’re a drug I can’t get enough of. Mark my words, I’m going to indulge myself in your soul for all eternity.”

“Take me then. Claim me, ruin me, I don’t care so long as you make me yours.”

Fuck, if you knew the power you have over him.

“You’re already mine,” he hisses, and before you can blink, your positions are swapped. His figure towering over yours. “But incase that wasn’t already obvious, I’ll prove it to you here.”

Sukuna leans his head down, kissing you on the lips. The calm before the storm that’s to come.

“I’m going to claim you and make you completely and utterly mine.” He pulls his hips backwards, leaving only the head of his cock inside you. “…and I’m not going to stop until you’re completely wrecked, completely mine.”

Sukuna thrusts forward, slamming his hips into you. There’s no second to spare, no second to adjust before he does it again and again, forcing you to cry out to the heavens how good he’s making you feel. It serves them right for abandoning you, leaving him to pick up the pieces. It’s the only thing he’ll thank that pathetic realm for, because you truly are one of the most divine creations to have existed alongside himself.

It isn’t enough for you yet it seems, no matter how rough he’s being. Your legs try and wrap around him, but you’re only hindering yourself. So, with two arms, he lifts your legs to your chest, placing his knees at your side. This new position allows him to reach even deeper, fulfilling what he knows you need.

He lowers his forehead to press against yours, sharing the air you command like a goddess those beautiful, encapsulating wings of yours. If you can’t wrap your legs around him, you at least try it with your wings. Like a moth’s cocoon, making this moment in time all your own. So selfish; it’s exactly what he’s wanted to see.

“Who’s making you feel this good?” he asks, his hips refusing to slow. If anything, they’re only getting faster ─ more erratic in nature.

“You are!” you cry out.

“And who do you belong to?”

“You!”

“Say it,” he growls, and you know exactly what he means.

“I’m yours, Sukuna! Only yours!”

“That’s right,” he chuckles darkly, drawing out his words. “You’re mine. Mine to do with as I please, mine to claim and take forever.” His voice is strong, carrying his decree like the word of the gods. “Do you see now the prize that you are to me?”

You nod your head feverishly, scraping your nails along his back. Your wings flutter with frenzy at the incoming high you both are flying so close to reach.

“So. Damn. Divine,” he groans between thrusts, almost threatening to truly break you if he isn’t careful. “You’re going to take every last drop of me, aren’t you?”

“Please, please, please, I want it all,” you plead and whimper, drool spilling out the sides of your mouth. “I want all of you.”

He bites down on your neck before stilling inside you, a rush of warmth hitting you both inside and out. You open your mouth in a silent scream at the force your climax hits you with. Desire overwhelming you from the depths of your being. Near the end, Sukuna slowly rocks his hips into you, fucking his seed back into you before leaning back to admire the view of your stomach painted in white.

As he does, you notice the blood trickling from his mouth is black in color. No longer the same angelic gold it once was.

“I love you, Sukuna,” you confess, making him smile with that all too familiar arrogance you’ve come to love, just like him. “I’ve never wanted anything more in my life until now. I’ve found purpose again with you.”

“I told you that in time your worth would be realized.” He pulls out from your body, casually pushing his seed back inside with hand. His stomach mouth opens, splaying out his second tongue to clean himself off the front of your body. “You have the makings of a queen ─ one who could stand by my side through the end of time.”

When he’s finished cleaning you off, he helps you up onto your knees. You then take to embracing him in your arms, and even your wings just to hold him close to your heart. “I never realized how constricting the heavenly principles were until you set me free. Thank you for showing me how life should be lived.”

Sukuna tightens his four arms around you, feeling that same possessive desire in his chest that goes beyond carnal need. There’s pride in his eyes to know what he’s taken from those bastards above. Nothing compares to you.

“You don’t need to thank me; you were made to be free. True paradise is removing all restraints to live as you please under no guiding order. Strength is power, and you’ve found it at last.”

“This right here is better than any paradise I’ve seen.” Sukuna feels your smile growing against his chest.

“Damn right it is,” he laughs, grinning like the devil he is.

And who would’ve imagined that heaven’s most revered angel, the guiding saint of humanity, would have fallen from grace, and into the hands of the sinner you love more than life itself now.

Fate is a fickle thing, and you know that now.

In the days that followed that night to remember, new changes began sprouting up. Symbols of your life renewed, risen from ash.

For starters, your wings have taken on an iridescent glow ─ like a black devil boa. No one, not even Sukuna has ever heard of such a thing happening to a fallen angel, but it’s become just another feature that makes his proudness of you show.

You’re one of a kind, and entirely his.

Your old room and clothes are no more. Now, you wear only the best money can buy, tailored perfectly to your form. Sukuna’s hoard contains many riches on top of gold, including a stockpile of gems he’s taken to adorning you with. All are reminiscent of his ruby red eyes ─ perfectly fitting with you. He’s a king in every way, always eager to indulge in the pleasures life has to offer.

You trot through the halls of his palace, making way to his throne. You’re eager to be reunited after a morning spent dancing in the skies, your heart tugging you to his side. He’s hosting an audience by the looks of it, but that doesn’t stop all four of his eyes from landing on you as you enter.

“Perfect timing, angel.” He smiles wickedly, displaying his vampiric fangs in full. “Come and take a seat, the show has only just begun now that you’re here.”

At his words, you come bounding up the bone-riddled steps, arriving before him. Sukuna’s hand reaches out, guiding you to rest atop one of his thighs. That hand remains on the small of your back, with another resting on your own inner thigh ─ his thumb rubbing shapes into the plush.

“You remember these demons, I’m sure?” You turn your head and look down, finding the very demons who had brought you here in the first place. They don’t dare meet your eyes as their gaze bores into the marbled floors. “You see, they’ve come demanding a meeting with me. They seem to be hoping I’ll reward them now with something other than their lives for bringing you to me.”

“Is that so?” you muse, ultimately ignoring their presence as your lips meet Sukuna’s with passion, your hands resting on either side of his jaw. “What do you think of that, my king?”

He chuckles, “I think they were foolish to try and demand me to do anything for them.” Sukuna snaps his fingers once, filling the room with an intense warmth. Fire has never looked more beautiful than when it reflects into yours from the depths of his eyes. The weight of his soul, resting between the palms of your hands.

“Wouldn’t you agree, my queen?”

You do, because all that matters now is one thing, your purpose, pleasure, and every depraved feeling in between ─ Sukuna himself.

☆ Notes: got inspired by a sukuna c.ai bot by @ vittovitto with a similiar premise

I like to imagine that as angels who live by the 7 virtues, that when they fall, they go through like an awkward werewolf kinda phase like I’ve detailed where they start to feel each of the 7 sins. Kinda liked a fucked up puberty with all the hormonal changes idk, I thought it was cool when I thought of it.

Overall though, I had a REALLY fun time writing this. I’ve always loved the idea of fallen angel Sukuna but writing about biblical stuff throws me off a bit. Hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did while I force myself to get back into my other five ongoing series!!!

song inspo: heaven's a lie - lacuna coil | parade's lust - granblue fantasy (i'm horny for belial, what can i say)

[moonyspupp]

You just don’t listen do you?

Severus snape X f!Reader smut

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My first fanfic on here!

CW: teacher student relationship (reader is of age!) breeding, minor name calling, SMUT

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While your many years at hogwarts went by very quickly, it feels like only yesterday you first stepped foot onto the grounds. Even though you had to stay an extra year due to poor marks, you loved hogwarts the same nevertheless. With all the laughter and excitement you shared with your classmates and friends these years, your mind was always occupied with the thoughts of your potions teacher;

Severus Snape

You weren’t sure what about him caught your eye, all you knew was that you wanted him, badly. None of your friends knew about your secret desire or you could even say , the hots for your teacher, how could you ever confess to that? But as your final year at the school comes near, there’s a dreadful realization that once you’re graduate, that’s it for your little dream when it came to him. As you daydream about graduation day and the fact you’ll leave everything in this school behind very soon, sooner than you realize. You’re suddenly brought out of your trance as Professor Snape smacks the back of your chair with his book.

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"Daydreaming again, Miss (L/N)?" he asks, his voice heavy with irritation.

My eyes snap open, the force of the smack bringing me back to reality. I look up to see Professor Snape looming over my desk, his lips curled into a sneer. I shake awake at his words; now fully processing it. “Oh shit..” I mutter . The class now quiet now as no one dared to say a word; the only sounds that could be heard were the bubbling cauldrons

“I-im sorry sir, im just a bit tired today” I say stuttering from embarrassment

“Well obviously you’ve been tired for the past three weeks , obvious by looking at your marks” Snape says harshly giving my seat another quick smack. I nearly jump in my seat , not daring to meet his gaze, I slightly tremble not knowing what to say next; what he would say next . “See me after class miss (L/N), at this rate I’ll be surprised to see you graduate this school” he says nearly snarling “I would hate to have you again as a student.” The class is still dead silent, as if everyone’s waiting for something to happen. “Yes sir” I say muttering trying my best not to make it so obvious I was beyond embarrassed at the confrontation about my marks. Snape eyes me up and down before returning back to the front of the class, his dark robes trailing near his feet as he walked briskly. For the rest of the class period, i try my best to focus on the lecture, but i can't shake the feeling of the embarrassment I faced earlier. Every time you glance at Snape, i can feel his gaze on me, like a hawk watching its prey. I thought to myself, “I knew I wanted his attention but this is NOT what I meant..” I tap my foot against the cobblestone floor nervously, keeping my eyes down either at my shoes or my empty notes.

As the class comes to an end, the students pack up their things and start to leave. My friends give me a look of nervousness, I knew I had to stay back but the fact it was going to be just me and him alone in the classroom was so terrifying but somehow it wasn’t in a scary way. Snape's voice rings out, stopping me in your tracks as i attempted to leave the classroom before he could see.

"Not you, Miss (L/N). Don’t forget you’ll be staying behind today."

I let out an annoyed groan before I turn around and face him, the realization that the only two people in this now empty classroom were you and him.

Your potion teacher, the one teacher you had the hots for

I feel my face slightly flush at the thought. The room was quietly; the only sound my nervous breaths in the still air. Snape stands at his desk, idly straightening some papers, his dark eyes never leaving you. I feel his eyes almost burning into me, even though i didn’t look up once after we were alone, i could just feel it. I take a seat in one of the chairs in the front row.

"You've been struggling in my class for quite some time," he says, his voice low and stern. "Why do you think that is?"

“I’m just a bit scared that I’ll graduate soon sir.” I let out a nervous laugh, I tap my foot on the floor once again but this time even faster. Snape's eyes narrow slightly and he stops straightening the papers, his full attention now on me.

"Is that so?" he says, his voice neutral. "You think that's a valid excuse for your poor performance in my class?" Snape stands up and walks around the desk, his footsteps echoing in the silent classroom. He stands directly over me, his body just a few inches away from mine. I'm not one to tolerate excuses, Miss (L/N). I expect excellence from all my students, and you haven't been living up to those expectations.” He snarls

I shake at his words, he’s never scolded me in such a way like this other than today, sure he’s called me out in class for sleeping or missing notes, but never this way, never this close. I couldn’t shake the feeling of fear and somehow, desire as well. For a few seconds longer I let my thoughts dwell until I bring myself to answer, “I apologize sir it’s just-“

He cuts me off slamming both his hands on the desk, the sound nearly echoing in the room. “I don’t want to hear any of your excuses” he groans, his facial expression changing to one that’s obviously more irritated. “I’ve heard it all before, you think I’ve never had a student who couldn’t care less about my class Miss (L/N)? You wouldn’t be the first he hisses” He says his eyes fixing on me.

“But sir that’s not it I swear to Merlin, I’ve just been distrac-“ I say frantically trying to prove to Snape wrong. Snape's hand reaches out quick and grips my chin, gripping it tightly and forcing me to look into his eyes. His eyes burn into mine as his face was mere inches away.

"You've been distracted?” he asks sarcastically , his voice a low growl. "It's a wonder how you manage to pass your other classes;if you even are at this point, with so much going on in that pretty little head of yours. Tell me, exactly what is causing this... distraction?” I tremble at let out a whimper as I feel his grip tightening on his face, He forces my chin up even higher to try to get an answer out of me. I see Snape’s lips curl into a slight smirk, my breathing became more unsteady by the second , as I feel my desire and arousal growing.

“Nothing sir” I say looking scared

Snape backs me up to his desk. “You must think I’m stupid little girl, do you really think I was born yesterday?

I see the way you look at me in class, this entire year, don’t try to deny it now miss (L/N), look at the way you’re quivering under my touch.” He says his voice trailing off and grip still steady on my neck. My breathing hitches at his words “fuck he’s right” I thought to myself. I feel my brows furrowing and my face becoming hotter by the second. I stir slightly at his grip needing more, more of his touch, I accidentally let out a soft moan. Snape nearly flinches at the sudden sound.

Your moan sent a shiver down Snape’s spine. He can feel your body responding to his presence, the combination of fear and desire making both of your heads spin. He eventually releases my chin and moves even closer to me, his body now pressed against mine. His hand shaking around my waist with a grip that was almost painful and apparent with desire.

"I know what you want little girl," he whispers in my ear, his voice low and seductive. "And I have just the way to get you to admit it." My arms wrap around his neck to bring him closer. Merlin you just had to feel more of him..

He nips at my earlobe, his teeth biting at my skin. The feeling goes straight to your core, and I can't help the small gasp that escapes my lips. I feel my legs shaking around his waist. I breathe heavy in his ear, my face turning even more red at the realization that he hasn’t even touched me yet and I’m acting this way.

Snape lets out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying the effect he's having on you. "Hush" he says, his hand moving to grip your hip. "No sounds until I tell you, if you want to misbehave in my class then you’ll have to work for your pleasure. Bad girls don’t get rewarded."

“Yes sir” I say shaking

He shifts himself so I can wrap around him better, I can feel his hard length lining up with my core. I grip his robes tightly as I feel it throb under his pants, the desires I’ve had are slowly becoming a reality, I have a hard time accepting that and my brain feels as it’s nearly melting at this point. I hear him groan as the readjusted position seems to have an effect on him too. I lightly squeeze my legs together and push myself further down onto his hardness just to be a bit of a tease to him.

I feel his grip on my hips tighten , his nails digging into the flesh of my thigh. His hand comes back up to grip my chin once more, “you minx” he hisses before crashing his lips onto mine. The kiss was possessive and rough, I moan as I feel him hold me tighter against him. His tongue slips into my mouth, it feels demanding, dominating even, I give into the feeling and let myself be devoured in that moment. It nearly feels like forever until I pull away from the kiss slightly to meet his gaze, breathing heavily with a moan in between each breath.

With my swollen parted lips and my eyes slightly heavy with lust “Professor” I say huffing with desire “Ravage me.” His eyes widen at your words, a hungry grin spreading across his face. "You don't know what you're asking for, Miss (L/N). Are you sure you can handle it?"

“Please!” I say nearly whining, my heads thrown back and my legs are shaking now more than ever. I feel the desire pooling in my core making it impossible to speak properly, all my words come out in almost a babble, but deep in my head I know I’ve entered dangerous territory, but you can't help yourself. You want this, you want him.

Snape smirks, his grip on you tightening. "Very well," he says, his voice a dangerous growl. "I'll give you exactly what you're asking for."

I can barely prepared what happens next until I feel him spin me around and pins me against his desk. His body pressed against mine even harder than before, his hands roaming over my body, his lips finding my neck once again.

"You asked for this," his voice a low growl. "And I'll give it to you, all of it.”

I moan loudly at the sudden feeling , my backside now exposed to him, I feel my legs slightly kick and twitch in anticipation.

Snape runs two fingers up and down my soaked panties then pulls them to the side, my body shakes slightly at the pleasure, I subconsciously let my moans out. I feel a tight grip on my hair then my head being pulled back, I hear him whisper; voice dripping like sweet dark desire. “I thought I made myself clear when I said to hush?”

“m so sorry sir! ” I say with slight tears welling up in my eyes. He brings his face closer to my bare neck and I feel his lips biting on my exposed skin. I cover my mouth with one of my hands to muffle any potential moans that could come next. I shut my eyes and let my body accept the feeling.

“Such a greedy thing” he whispers in my ear as his grip on me tightens. I can only whimper in response“So bold of you to tell me to ravage you. You don't even know what you're asking for." His whisper turning a primal growl. I moan into my hand once more nodding feverishly, my body responding to his every touch and every word. His hand moves back down to my ruined panties, his grip tight and possessive on me. "But I'm going to give it to you, darling," he hisses. "And you're going to take whatever I give you, aren't you?"

“Yes professor!” I cry out, my hips moving against his hands greedily. I feel my heart racing, my head is spinning, and I can barely think straight. I hear him laugh, his hand continue down its path down your body. He tugs at the hem of your skirt, his breath hot on your ear.

"I thought so,” he whispers. “You’re trembling so much dear, you want this more than you'd like to admit, don't you?"

“Yes sir” I say burying my face into my arms shyly. My body still violently shaking with pleasure and embarrassment. I hear the sound of his belt unbuckling followed by the sound of fabric hitting the floor, he slips off my ruined panties as well. I nearly wince at the feeling of Snape rubbing the swollen head of his cock up and down my leaking slit. I moan loudly at the feeling and feel a sharp slap come down onto my behind. I arch my back at the sudden pain and shriek.

“You just never listen do you Miss(L/N)?”

“Please professor I can’t take it anymore” I say tears running down my face now. “Im begging you please” I could no longer create coherent thoughts and all the words that came out of my mouth became nothing but babbling.

Snape chuckles “Then let it all out then dear.”

I feel him push past my fold, sheathing his entire length into my tight insides. I let out almost a scream at the feeling of pleasure. “Professor!” I say crying out , I throw my head down even lower, not being able to keep it up any longer. He leans over my back and moans, “fuck, you’re so tight. It’s like your body was made for me to claim” He groans. He was now balls deep in me, I shake at the feeling of being stretched out so much and by the man I wanted so badly. He kissed and bites my shoulders and back wildly as he pounded me hard and primal into his desk. I felt my back arch as he gripped my hips tight and thrusted even harder. “You’re so perfect..” I heard him mutter under his breath as he moaned. “more please sir I can take it” I say babbling , gripping onto the edge of the desk for dear life. Snape happily obliges, I feel my insides nearly split open as he continues his rough pounding. Hearing his guttural moans sends me over the edge.

His grip comes up to my throat , the gasp that came out my mouth sounded strangled yet full of pleasure. I feel another sharp slap come down my ass. “Fuck!” I scream out

My potions teacher was ravaging my pussy, using my body.

My eyes begin to roll back into my skull as I let him do as he pleased with my body. I felt my desires begging to turn primal, “Professor breed m’ please” I said barely holding onto my composure. A dribble of drool began to seep its way out of the corner of my mouth as I huffed. Snape come undone by my pleas and need to be bred.

I hear his breathing hitch into gasps, I feel him trembling as he continued to pound behind me as I heard him speak “ you’re sure love? You want to take that chance? You’re willing to let me breed you? Without any protection?”

Though I couldn’t see behind me I still felt a smile creep onto Snapes face. “Yes please breed me professor let m’ have your children! I cried out” , whining at the need to be filled to the brim with his cum, to carry and become round with his children. All the thoughts and pleasure overstimulated me to the point where the only thing I could do was moan,whimper, and drool.

Snape fucks me even harder , the desk below me starts to creak and thump against the floor. I moan loudly at his brutal rough thrusts. “Gonna fill you up so full with my cum darling” “gonna be so fucking pretty with your belly full with my children, you’d want that wouldn’t you slut?” He asks , “yes please don’t stop” I babble not being able to lift my head up to speak properly. “

he groans at my fucked state, “gonna cum “ he mutters. I feel his grip on my hips becoming tighter, his nails digging into my behind, his thrusts became more and more sloppy by the second, “m’ too sir “ I say muttering; my brain nearly fried at that point. The volume of our moans combined eventually spilt us both over the edge. I feel Snape feel my warm cunt up full with his hot potent seed. Afterwards I felt him lean over my back for quite a while , obviously tired from that entire ordeal, maybe even a hint of hesitation when it came to pulling out played a part in that.

Eventually he did, drops of his seed dripped onto the floor under us, the withdrawal made me whimper at the loss of what made me feel full. Snape and I take another moment to collect our composure. He sets me upright on his desk and placed a soft kiss on my lips.

“Gorgeous girl..” he mutters , I smile at his words , “I’ve always wanted to do that” I say shyly

“I know” Snape says buckling his pants again.

I give him a pout at the fact he didn’t play along, “can I stay with you for tonight sir?” He rolled his eyes and nodded. I slip my underwear back on and readjust my skirt and top, I grab onto his arm, “don’t pretend like you don’t like me sir, I know you’ll miss me once I graduate” I say still giving him a pout.

He gives me an irritated look but I could sense a slight bit of affection through it

“I’ll still be seeing you after you’re graduated.”

I give him a sweet smile now holding onto his hand as he led me through the corridors to his quarters..

[thestarrynightslover]

The Trials of Dating in Secrecy

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Reader

Word count: 2,374

Warnings: Discussion, yelling, some angst, workplace romance, nudity, and verbal sexual harassment (all very light).

Summary: Okay, so this one features a bit of work issues (workplace romance), and a bit of jealous!Harvey + Harvey taking care of his girl, as requested by Anon.

Disclaimer: I don’t own the show Suits, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way, or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: Well this is the first request I took and I’ll admit that it was a bit challenging, not cause it was particularly hard but because I wasn’t super inspired at first, nor did I have the time. Though, now, I think it worked? Idk, don’t feel like this was my best work either but feel free to leave some feedback, and thanks for reading!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

“Seriously, Harvey!” You let out annoyed. “I think I should probably go home now,” you said, thinking that if you did go home you could keep yourself from saying something you might regret later. 

“Oh, really? So now you're mad at me because I’m simply asking a bit more of this relationship?” He asked, looking ready to have a full-on fight.

“No, Harvey! What I’m actually upset about is how you’re making today all about yourself and your needs, when I’m the one going through it all!” You really didn’t wanna shout but the little bit of patience you had left vanished when his questions reminded you of the little stunt he’d pulled today.

Earlier that day, at the firm, you had been giving a consult to a prospective client on an intellectual property lawsuit he may be looking at and the guy seemed a bit disinterested in his own situation, giving you — and by you, you mean your body — most of his attention. But that was fineish, it was a regular occurrence, being a young woman in that field, so you didn’t really mind it anymore, at this point — after all, ignoring the occasional sexual harassment was usually the easiest route to advancing in your career. The problem was that the man started interrupting your professional analysis to hit on you, and eventually, he reached for your forearm, caressing it as he spoke. And that was exactly when Harvey, the man you’d secretly been dating for about 7 months now, decided to walk into your office. As he entered your office, you yanked your arm out of the man’s grasp but you couldn’t shut him up just as quickly, so your boyfriend got there just in time to hear a “So, if you really like yourself a sturdy stallion,” he pointed at a framed picture of you riding a horse on the wall behind you, “you should ride mine, someday. If you know what I mean,” he finalized with a wink, and how on Earth could you — or anyone hearing that — not know what he meant when he had said it so suggestively? 

“What did you just say to her?” Harvey’s voice came sharply, indicating he was about to get into a fistfight with the man who was probably not going to be your client now.

“Oh, we’re just chatting about- uh, who are you, again?” The shorter guy had the nerve to ask.

After that, Harvey was so quick to hoist the man up from the chair in front of you, by the collar of his dress shirt, that you didn’t even have time to react before he started punching the guy right in the face.

“I’m her boyfriend, that’s who I am! And you will be out of here before I take you out myself.” The man didn’t fall backward solely because Harvey had a hold on him, still, so he just stared at the other attorney in shock. “What are you looking at? Get out!” Harvey shouted once again, tossing the man towards your office door.

After that, you tried calming Harvey down but you barely had any time for it before Jessica and Louis barged into your office, revolted by their partner’s behavior and asking what had gotten into him to attack a prospective client like that.

“The prick was propositioning my-” But you cut him off before he could complete his sentence.

“He was harassing me during the meeting, and Harvey walked in and heard it, and, as a good colleague, he wanted to defend my honor, I guess,” you said with a short, humorless laugh while making air quotes with your fingers.

“A good colleague?” The tall senior partner asked quietly, hurt pooling in his eyes.

“Well… That’s terrible but you know better than to do this, Harvey,” Jessica told him.

“You know, I’d never thought I’d see the day you would act like such a caring gentleman for anyone, Specter,” Louis added, as always, eager to make things worse. “And, (y/n), at the very least you need to reach out to that man and take him out to an apology dinner. Because you are well aware of how important it is for you to get more clients.”

“Yes, I-” You stopped what you were saying mid-sentence because the man you loved was storming out of your office and all you wanted to do was chase after him.

“And now you’re gonna let him get off with that shit he pulled this easy?” Louis shouted, obviously trying to be heard by Harvey too. “I mean, this firm is turning into a complete mess, Jessica! It’s like you can’t control your office anymore! A junior partner who barely has her own clients and a senior partner battering prospective clients? We’re gonna go bankrupt like this, if not sued for malpractice altogether! And-”

“Louis, will you shut up, for God’s sake? I’m the managing partner and I’ll deal with both of them. Now go and let me talk to (y/n) alone!” Your boss responded, making you apprehensive about the conversation you were about to have with her.

As he left the room, Jessica motioned for you to sit on the couch with her. “(y/n), first of all, are you okay? Because if that man did something to you, then…”

“No, no! The harassment was just verbal,” not that that made it any better, you thought to yourself. “Harvey intervened before it could get to that.”

“Right. Well, that’s a relief.” She paused for an instant, giving one of those smiles she used when she was going to convince you of something unpleasant. “Now, as much as it pains me to admit it, Louis is right. You need more clients. I didn’t think it’d be good to tell you this after our conversation but the board has been pressuring me about making personnel cuts. Directed mostly to the partners who aren’t producing much. And you know that I like your work, and see your value to the company but those old men in suits only care about numbers, so if you don’t manage to bring in a new client by the end of the week… I am going to push for you to go after that man’s account again. Using whatever means necessary.” She declared, still sporting that smile. “Are we clear?”

At that, a defeated “Yes, Jessica” was all you could mutter. And then she left. And all you could think about was how you’d somehow managed to screw up both your professional and personal life, all at once.

Leaving work that day, after setting up four meetings with potential clients for the following days, all you could think about was making up with Harvey, so you went to his place to talk. And that’s how you got to the argument you were having now. He was upset about the whole ‘good colleague’ thing and you were upset because you could have handled the situation without burning that bridge with the guy, which was multiplied by ten when you remembered that you were on deadline to get more clients — something you hadn’t told Harvey.

“Making it all about-” He’d started saying angrily but stopped himself and his voice instantly took on a soft, caring tone, “wait, what do you mean you’re going through it all?”

Now you realized what you’d said.

“Uh, I meant nothing. I was just being dramatic, is all,” you stated unconvincingly.

“No, that doesn’t make any sense. If anyone is dramatic in this relationship, it’s me and we both know it,” he said, making you crack a small smile, thinking of how right he was. “So tell me, honey, what’s going on?”

“I, um, I’m being encouraged, or, better said, ordered to expand my client list.” There, you’d said it.

“What? Why?”

“You know why, Harvey. You just can’t be a partner at the firm if you don’t bring enough money in.” You told him, defeated.

“But… but you’re so good! You bring such good attention to the company’s name, your clients might actually be more satisfied with your work than mine, and they are very satisfied with my work,” he said matter-of-factly with a grin on his face.

“Yeah, maybe. But you might not know this because you've always been a man and Jessica’s protégé but for the rest of us, women trying to be successful at Pearson, the bar is just much higher, babe. And they're threatening to take away my partnership, maybe even my job altogether, if I don't get it done,” you finally finished your confession with teary eyes, even though you didn’t want to cry about it.

“That’s… that’s just unacceptable!” He let out, running his hands through his hair, “Did- does Jessica know about that? Because I can-” He tried to go on with his speech but you cut him off.

“She knows, Harvey. She says she likes my work but her hands are tied.” You let him know, sighing a little.

“But… that’s not… that doesn’t make any sense! It’s just not like Jessica to give in like that…” Harvey commented, starting to look defeated as well.

“Maybe when it’s about someone like you. But with me? She might not even be trying all that hard.” To which he responded with a mischievous glint in his eyes, perking up.

“Then, I’ll talk to her! I’ll tell her that, if she doesn’t secure your place in the company, I’m going to start listening to those offers I get all the time!” He said smiling widely this time.

“Harvey! You can’t do that!”

“Why not?”

“Because it’d be incredibly stupid, and unprofessional, and-” You didn’t wanna finish your sentence but you had to. “And, that way, she’ll know.”

“Know?”

“About us. That we’re dating,” you finished sighing again.

“She’ll kn-” he stopped mid-sentence, full of disbelief. “And what’s so wrong with that?”

“Harvey…”

“No, don’t ‘Harvey’ me, (y/n)! If you don’t want me to help because it’d be unprofessional, then that’s okay. I can understand that. But what exactly are you trying to tell me, huh? That our relationship’s never gonna see the light of day? Or are you trying to break up with me?” That last question came out of him in such a low tone you could barely believe had come from him.

“No! Of course I don’t wanna break up-”

“Then tell me what do you want? Because I don’t understand why I can’t tell the world that I’m your boyfriend. I don’t get what’s so wrong about your boyfriend telling off a prick who can’t keep his hands to himself around another man’s woman-”

“Do you seriously think now is a good time to be possessive?”

“Oh, honey, I am possessive by nature. Especially around you,” he stated coming closer to where you were standing. And you could do nothing but welcome his warmth, after all, it’d been a long day.

As you stepped fully into his embrace and rested your head on his chest, you told him “I love you, Harvey. I don’t wanna break up with you. And I want you to tell the world that I’m your girlfriend, even Jessica,” hearing that, his eyes lit up. “But, as much of a prick as that man was, you need to understand that I can handle myself and that you need to give me space to make my own way at work, just like you made yours.”

“You’re right.”

“I know,” you joked, trying to shrug your shoulders at him.

“And I won’t try to interfere at work anymore. But don’t think that I’m just gonna stand around doing nothing if I see someone trying to mess with my girl again.”

“Well, that-”

“I’m not done yet,” he said, silencing you in an instant, “you should also know that, when you’re home with me, you’re mine to take care of.”

“Yeah? And how exactly do you plan on doing that?” You asked him with a smug smile.

His only response was swiftly picking you up and taking you to his suite’s bathroom, where he gently sat you down on the edge of the tub, just to start running the hot water into the bath he’d already filled with delicious-smelling bathing salts. “Wait here, baby.”

A bit later he came back carrying some candles he started lighting with one of the matches from a box he had in his other hand.

“What are you doing, Harv?”

“Just come over here,” he said after having spread the candles all throughout his spacious bathroom. They were scented too, you noticed. The second you reached him, though, instead of holding you close, he started taking off your clothes, slow and gentle, piece by piece. Which he followed up with little kisses all over your now bare skin. After being satisfied with his work of making you forget everything, he picked you up again and, this time, carefully dipped you into the bathtub. “Now, you just lay back and relax, darling.”

“You’re not joining me?” You asked him hopefully.

“No, I’m taking care of your dinner,” right after he left, though, one of your favorite songs started playing softly on a speaker he’d set somewhere.

You probably dozed off in that tub, because before you knew it you were being held by your boyfriend in his bed, still completely naked. “Hey.”

“Good morning beautiful,” he greeted you with a grin, “you know, you were taking so long to wake up, that I was starting to think that the breakfast I made you was gonna get cold.”

“Wait a second, last night you were making me dinner and this morning you made me breakfast… two for two! What’s happening to you?” You asked, giggling like a child.

“Nothing, nothing! It’s just… I told you, at home, I take care of you, that’s all.” He told you while he guided you out of the bed, handing you one of his shirts altogether. 

“You know, you keep saying ‘at home’ but this isn’t really our home…” As you put on his dress shirt, you followed him towards his living room. 

“It could be…” And that’s when you saw a set of keys at the dinner table by the cutlery.

[earthtooz]

x : BETWEEN LOVE AND LIES :*+ﾟ

in which: you thought nagi was dating you for media reputation... so why does this relationship feel suspiciously real?

warnings: 11.9k words, pro-soccer player!nagi x physiotherapist!gn!reader, reader has hair, lots of food, not at all a realistic story but that's okay pls don't come for me, SLOOWWWWBURN, fake-dating au, reader is oblivious :<

a/n: goodness. if this flops i will cry bc i spent way too long this for it to be healthy for me. enjoy !

↳ 5K EVENT MASTERLIST ༉‧₊

nagi approaches you the day after his name goes viral.

you weren’t doing anything spectacular, merely putting away all the kits and equipment you’d used for the day when the white-haired soccer player approaches you, his hands in his pockets, strolling over to you as he would on any occasion. 

your heart races- as it does whenever he’s around, regardless of said occasion, but what tumbles out of his mouth next was worthy of ceasing your heart rate all together.

“wanna date?”

you’re speechless. malfunctioning as you register what he’s saying. the sheer casualness of it all is alarming and you have to snap yourself back into your physical environment before your mind loses to a universe of questions and doubts.

out of all people who have asked you to date, nagi was definitely the most unique. was he okay in the head? did he come for a check up? did he get one of rin’s kicks to the head? or was he just straight up delusional?

“uhh, why?” you ask, cursing yourself a little for how disgusted you sounded.

fortunately for you, your ungracious tone didn’t phase him, not one bit. “isn’t that what two people do when they like each other?”

yeah, romantically. you don’t even think nagi likes you beyond simply platonic, whereas you have to try and shove your feelings for him down your throat every morning before walking in to the training grounds for blue lock’s official team.

you find yourself agreeing regardless, still a little overwhelmed by everything that was going on. 

the soccer player then has the audacity to give you two thumbs up in approval, a dumb smile plastering on that expression of his. this confuses you even more.

“okay cool, so what should we do now that we’re a couple?” he asks.

you glance away, unable to look him in the eye for too long without getting flustered. the various weights and foam rollers still scattered on the floor catches your attention, reminding you of your previous task before nagi came to stir up a storm. “well, i have to put these away amongst various things. you can sit on the couch if you want to pass time?”

“do you need any help?” he questions, already bobbing down to be eye-level with you, ignoring the second half of your statement.

“no it’s fine, thank you though.”

“are you sure?”

“yeah! i don’t want to bother you.”

“well if you do this all by yourself, it’ll take longer, and you take longer, it means i have to wait longer to spend time with you.”

when you turn around to say something, the words die on your throat when you realise just how close he’d come to you during the time you had your back towards him. a flash of hurt crosses his typically emotionless eyes when you instinctively recoil from him, his innocent stare dimishing just a little. 

“you know how much i hate waiting. it’s such a pain, so let me help out and you’ll get done faster, right?” his hands are already reaching for some of the foam rollers before you can stop him. with an affectionate sigh, you take it from him, placing it back in its original spot.

“fine,” you say with a smile. “if you insist then would you mind putting the ice packs in the fridge? isagi’s ankle was messing up earlier and chigiri came in for his knee again.”

the white-haired hums before obeying, his footsteps that shuffled along the floor telling you know that he is carrying out his duties that you’ve assigned for him. the way his tracksuit makes a noise every time he walks is distracting, but you can’t help but think how much nagi reminds you of a penguin. the adorableness of it all might just kill you.

if only the internet and ‘#nagi seishiro’ tags knew just how much of a teddy bear that 6’3, legendary prodigy, nagi seishiro was, and how you had to massage him almost everyday after training sessions otherwise he’d come to practise the next day with the resolve of a five year old.

being a junior physiotherapist for the blue lock team, you only took care of a few blue lock athletes as your clients since the team was divided between you and a senior physio. nagi wasn’t one of your assigned athletes, however when you first came to the job, he would come during almost closing times (when you had no one booked) and ask for a massage, even if he had his own physiotherapist to request that of. however, nagi seemed to always have some sore muscle because his demands for a massage became a daily recurrence.

you just hope whatever is wrong with him gets sorted out soon. 

sure athletes are meant to work hard and use their bodies in the field but physio massages were to assist with injuries by minimising the risk of them, fixing the alignment, or help extend any limited range of movement. 

whatever. now’s not the time to think too hard about it because you’re about to go on a date with nagi seishiro. 

after cleaning up your space so you could prepare to take care of more athletes tomorrow, nagi is sauntering over to you once more. this time, he drapes himself all over you, causing you to stumble a little from how heavy he is. you pray to whoever’s listening that he can’t feel or hear the way your heart races in your chest, threatening to climb up your throat and jump into his hands. 

“tired, nagi?” you question, words muffled against his shoulder as you bring your hands to soothingly pat his back. 

“yeah,” whines the white-haired. the smile that creeps onto your face is one full of adoration for the man slung over you. “let me take you out.”

“where to?”

“a night market? it’ll be fun.” 

“sure.” 

at your confirmation, he separates from you with an excited glimmer in his eyes, 

after grabbing your bags and setting out, you’re violently flooded by dozens of paparazzi and interviewers who are click their cameras in hopes of catching blue lock’s soccer player who has taken the world by storm. it’s a little overwhelming, but when nagi covers you from the reporters with his arm which had his tracksuit jacket draped over it, you’re thankful for his thoughtfulness, especially when you’re relying on his grip around your waist to pull you in the right direction.

the crowd is shouting a flurry of things, nothing that you can make out amongst the mess of your mind, your heart, and your ears.

it’s not until you decipher someone shouting something about dating rumours with a japanese pop singer, that you piece together his intentions; a loud wakeup call to the reality of your ‘situation’ with nagi. 

the possibility that nagi was using this ‘relationship’ for media coverage and acknowledgement was very likely, especially with his recent growth in popularity and social media following- it would be understandable if he wanted to prolong his moment in the spotlight by entering beneficial relationships. 

except typically, celebrities would do it with other celebrities.

so what’s the appeal behind using you? 

a funny feeling brews in your gut, one that clawed at your chest with a series of disappointment, anxiety, and dismay. it was unbelievable that someone as hot, both literally and figuratively, as nagi would be interested in you; a junior physiotherapist fresh out of university, but you had hoped. his abruptness today and the whole ‘we should date’ ordeal was to dispel the media from his back, not bred from any genuine feelings.

if this was the only chance you got to stand beside nagi and have him hold you like this, so protectively against him, then you were going to take it until fate deemed it over and pulled you away from him itself.

you were young and simply put, nagi could provide the companionship you were looking for.

fortunately, the press left him alone at the parking lot where security guards were standing, two in the booth and one purchased near the gate. you give them a shy greeting and they return it with a bow.

“sorry about that,” nagi mutters, not looking at you even when you turn your head to stare up at him. “i wasn’t expecting paparazzi to be right outside, they’re such a pain.”

“it’s okay, if anything i owe you a thank you for covering me from them,” you huff, stuffing your hands into your pockets, mind still a little frazzled over the memory of how protective nagi was over you. “stuff like this happens when you’re famous, mr soccer hotshot.”

he rubs his neck, looking to the side as his next words tumble out of his mouth: “does that impress you?”

“why wouldn’t it?” 

you try not to think too hard about the blush that manifests on his face, pinning it on the colder weather and frostbite rather than your words. 

“so… where’s this night market? i didn’t know tokyo had many night markets.”

“just in shibuya.”

“won’t it be busy?”

“yeah,” he shrugs before adding as an afterthought: “does that bother you?”

“no not at all, i just thought you hated big crowds and busy places.”

“‘s won’t be so bad with you there.”

for someone who prefers to keep quiet majority of the time, nagi sure does have a silver tongue. this is probably the third time in the past half an hour that he’s made your stomach flip, and you can’t help but question his intentions. if he was trying to make you actually fall for him to make your relationship look more legitimate then he’d be disappointed to know that you already had, way before he approached you today. 

he agrees to drive the way since one: it was easier and two: you could avoid the paparazzi that way. 

upon arrival, you’re glad to see that there aren’t too many people in the crowd. since it was a weekday, students would be participating in extra curriculars and businessmen would be only just finishing work. the majority of the people here were older with a few couples here and there.

“oh, they have lemon tea,” nagi mutters, grabbing your hand before unceremoniously dragging you to the stand. his excitement was endearing, especially when all 6’3 of him approaches the lemon tea stand, needing to bend down in order to be seen by the elderly stand owner. a flash of surprise crosses the maker’s face as he makes eye contact with the white-haired.

“two lemon teas please,” requests the soccer player, using his hands to gesture ‘two’ as he fishes out the appropriate amount of money.

“hey, you’re that soccer player, nagi! you scored an awesome goal the other day. mind if i get a picture?” the owner’s gruff voice requests, a cheery smile making its way onto his face.

“oh. sure.”

you take the picture for them, counting down ‘3, 2, 1’ as nagi gives the camera a peace sign and the owner has a wide, bright smile on his face; so bright that you couldn’t help grinning as well. “i’m putting this on my store front. now you want two lemon teas?”

“coming right up!” 

“did you just buy me a lemon tea without asking?” you question, a smile appearing on your features as you glance up at your companion.

he meets your eyes, “yeah, ‘s there something wrong with that?” 

“no, not at all. i wouldn’t mind some lemon tea right now. i’ll pay you back.”

“don’t worry about that,” nagi cuts you off before you can even reach for your wallet. “everything’s on me.”

“but-”

“-it’s on me.”

the stand owner is handing over two iced cups of lemon before you can continue bickering and nagi hands one over to you with a wordless expression and you’re compelled to take it, though reluctantly.

“are you two a couple?” the owner asks.

nagi nods, “yeah, we are.”

“ah! no wonder. you two look amazing together, you bagged a real gem,” he says to nagi, pointing at you. you laugh it off, flattered.

“i know i did. thanks for the tea, sir.”

“thank you!” you call out to the owner before being dragged away by nagi again, careful not to spill your drink from how much vigour was in his steps. for his one stride, you had to take two. 

after going from store to store and blindly following nagi who led the way with his stomach, you’re eventually brought to a less busy, picnic-like area where there were various benches for you to sit on. it was away from the busyness of the main street, but still had lanterns hung around the premise, combating the darkness of the early sunset during colder months.

you take a seat beside him whilst he sets down the variety of food he bought from the merchants, not trying to think too much about the way nagi presses himself closely against you. 

“oh, one of my games had a character drop an hour ago,” he absentmindedly comments, opening his phone for the first time since being with you. you catch a glimpse of his dim phone screen, seeing the notification banner from the game he was referring to.

“that’s cool,” you mutter, unsure of what else to say as you take a bite into the red bean taiyaki.

“yeah, he’s a cracked character. been wanting him forever.”

“are you gonna pull? i wanna see him.”

“really?” 

when you give him the nod of affirmation, nagi opens the game whilst you continue eating, gentle anticipation hanging in the air as well as a comfortable silence. it doesn’t take long before he’s purchasing special event tokens, going to the special character screen and pressing the ‘draw x10’ option. you peer over his shoulder, trying to resist the urge to rest your chin on it.

you’re snapped out of your reverie when nagi emits a small gasp. “no way.”  

“what?” you ask, watching the way his screen lights up in gold which signalled a successful draw. he looks up at you, eyes wide and mouth partially parted. “did you get him?”

“yeah, on the first go,” he says in wonder, a dazed look in his eyes. “that’s never happened before.”

“no way! you’re so lucky!”

nagi’s face erupts into a small smile, and you’re caught off guard all of a sudden when his hands snake around your waist, pulling you up to sit on his lap. the new proximity and abruptness of it all causes your mind to stop for a second, shutting off as nagi peers up at you with stars in his eyes. you want to hide, but his grip around you is too tight, pulling you in to him.

this feels criminal. 

“nah, i just think you’re my lucky charm.”

a quiet squeak of ‘is that so?’ is all you can reply with before looking away, trying to distract your rampant thoughts, hoping that the cool breeze will calm the heat creeping up to your face. “so,” you begin, trying to recover yourself from embarrassment. “can i see your characters? all of them?”

“all of them?” nagi repeats and you miss the small look of bliss on his expression.

“yeah.”

“i showed them to you the other week.”

“okay, well show me this new character then.”

“as you wish.” 

he talks you through the characters and their tutorials, showing you their special combos and ultimate moves, all whilst you have to feed him the variety of foods he bought whilst dragging you around like a dog and its owner. as he munches on the takoyaki, kebabs, and sweet potato, you realise just how bottomless nagi’s stomach was and the way he hums in satisfaction after each bite was very adorable.

the night fades into a nice memory of laughter, emptied food boxes, and easy conversation. somehow nagi has manoeuvred himself so that his head was now in your lap, snowy hair spread so invitingly as you resist the urge to run your hands through it, wanting to respect any boundaries of his. 

every so often you have to remind yourself that this wasn’t real. 

reality hits you once more the following morning when you check social media just to see ‘#nagi seishiro’ trending all over again, all talking about the paparazzi photos that were taken yesterday. taking a glimpse for yourself, you hate the way your gut sinks, especially as articles with the title ‘nagi seishiro with a new lover?’ shine in your face.

it only solidifies your speculations about this (fake?) relationship, and despite coming to accept it, growing resentment poisons your system, rendering you incapable and bitter as you let your breakfast grow cold. 

at least nagi correctly covered you with his jacket, your face is completely obstructed, only your body is revealed. you thank your lucky stars that you decided to not wear your ‘blue lock’ staff clothes that morning and just opted for your own athletic wear, that way your identity could be hidden at least just a little.

a message from reo captures your attention and you click on it immediately. 

reo: is that you with nagi? 

you: yeah! 

reo: about fucking time. got sick of you two never doing anything. 

you: haha 😐thanks reo 😐

reo: did he take you to the night market last night?

you: yeah! it was fun :)

reo: that’s good, nagi’s been waiting forever.

reo: don’t break his heart 

you scoff at the irony of reo’s last text, typing something noncommittal before throwing your phone else where. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

the whole team practically knows about you and nagi when you return to work the following monday and the second you enter the building, you’re swarmed by the friendly faces of bachira, isagi, and chigiri, who are seemingly holding a tired nagi hostage. quite an amusing sight. three people, who are roughly a head shorter than the white-haired, restraining a lethargic 6’3 athlete with their bodies. 

“are you really dating nagi?” isagi begins before you could even fit in a ‘hello’.

“uh… yeah?” you sound unsure; because you are. a fake relationship is still a relationship, it’s just that one party is more infatuated with the other.

“damn. i didn’t think it was real,” mutters chigiri. “are you sure? he’s not like… paying you to do this, right? you like like him?”

“yes?” you exclaim, a little overwhelmed. “i’m not getting any monetary returns even though i wish i did.” nagi narrows his eyes at you, you poke out your tongue. “please, no more questions, it’s way too early for this.”

“you don’t know how long we’ve been waiting for nagi to ask you out, y/n. even we placed money on him,” reveals isagi but before you could say anything in response, bachira cuts in, practically skipping up to the white-haired.

“finally grew some balls and asked, good job bro!” bachira sings, patting nagi on the back with a violet slap before disappearing.

“see you at practice, nagi!” 

the three athletes disappear and you finally exhale after holding in a breath for what felt like ages. what an animated way to start the day.

you hold your breath again when nagi approaches to stop in front of you, a singular coffee cup in his hand; one that he holds out to you.

“good morning, nagi,” you greet.

“hey, i got you coffee.” instinctively, you take the cup from him, immediately warmed up by the heat emanating from it. “i hope it’s still warm. i’ve been waiting for you for a while.”

“you were waiting for me?” 

“yeah. wanted to see you before going to training. makes my day less of a bother.”

you smile into your cup, trying to hide the effect that nagi has on you. you were so stupid for him it was insane.

“i’m sorry for making you wait, the trains were a little delayed this morning,” you confess, “but thank you. you’re very thoughtful, nagi.”

his face contorts into an ugly expression, a display of his feelings that are quickly quelled by the feeling of your cold hand grabbing his warm ones. “you take public transport to work?”

“i don’t want to pay for parking and everything. it’s not all bad, i get lovely views and a wake up call every morning.” 

the white-haired athlete makes a face of contemplation briefly. “let me pick you up from now on.”

“no, it’s fine. i don’t want to be more of a hassle. i know how much you hate waking up to even just come to work so-”

“-i want to.”

your heart flutters at his insistence and all you can mutter out is a feeble ‘ok’ before slipping your hand out of his. you don’t know if you’ll ever be able to get used to the way nagi seishiro so effortlessly warms your insides; to the point that it becomes an unrecognisable pool of putty. 

after a moment, you regain your senses. “you should be going off to practise. don’t make ego mad before the day even starts.”

he groans, “won’t you come and watch? i’ll feel a little better if you’re there.”

“i have my own work to get to but i don’t have many checkups today so if i can, i will.”

“i suppose that’s good enough,” mutters nagi before pulling you in for a loose hug, arms wounding around your waist, breathing you in before stepping back, as if rejuvenated by your touch and presence alone. 

“work hard, nagi.”

you go your separate ways, him to the field and you to your office where various coworkers resided.

after a morning of answering emails, going to meetings and consulting the results from various body screenings, you finally have a chunk of time around 11:45 am to go and watch practice. as soon as you entered the training grounds, you’re a little stunned and impressed to see that they were all doing shooting drills, landing them perfectly with no effort, the harsh sound of shoe slapping against leather ringing throughout the area.

nagi notices you almost immediately, his eyes lighting up a little when you shoot him a small wave before wandering into the bleachers, taking a seat in a second row. 

you continue watching, straightening up in your seat whenever it’s nagi’s turn, waiting to watch the genius at work. the results are no less than impressive every time but you have to pretend like you weren’t at all marvelling at him whenever he turns around and looks at you expectantly.

15 minutes later, ego calls for an hour lunch break, allowing the players to break off to do whatever their heart desires. the first thing nagi does is walk over to where you sit in the stands, leaning over the first row of chairs to reach you.

“why hello there, soccer sensation,” you greet and he gives you a lazy smile.

“hi.”

“you going to go for lunch?”

“yeah. have you had something to eat yet or do you wanna grab a bite together?”

“i brought cup noodles but i don’t mind. don’t you want to go with your friends?” 

“you’re better.”

“please shut up, that’s so cringe,” you murmur with an undeniable grin, one that causes his gaze to soften as well. “let’s get lunch together then.”

“let me get dressed,” the athlete says, about to run off when you abruptly stop him, causing him to turn around suddenly, his hair whipping around with his actions. “what’s up?”

beckoning him over, he returns to where he stood before and you take out a hair tie, one that you store in your pockets all the time just in case. “does your hair not bother you when you practise?” you silently ask for permission, hand merely hovering near his head until you realise that he was okay with the contact. “it’s getting all in your face, even i was annoyed when watching you.” 

gently, you run your hands through his hair and despite the sweat on his forehead, it’s still soft and fluffy. goodness you could play with it forever.

then, you gather nagi’s front bangs, bringing them together to resemble a unicorn horn, tying it with your hairband. when you part from your work, you’re pleasantly surprised that it holds but you suppress a giggle because of how ridiculous he looks, paired with that dazed look in his eyes, you never thought you’d see nagi like this.

when you reach to tug your hairband out of his hair, he waves you off, taking the updo out himself.

“can i keep the hairband?” he pleads and you quirk an eyebrow.

“it’s just a hairband,” you say.

“so you won’t miss it right?”

“no, i won’t-”

“-okay, epic,” he mumbles before putting the hair tie around his wrist and a part of you swells with pride at the sight; a feeling that you try to shove down with little success. “can i get changed now?”

“yes, go.”

whilst you watch the white-haired disappear from your vision, you can’t help but wonder how you got yourself into this situation with such a weirdo. still, you adore said weirdo and this was no one’s fault but your own.

nagi wears the hair tie for the remainder of the day.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

roughly two months or so pass by and the days become a blur, especially since training is becoming more rigorous for the team due to the preparations for their spring soccer season. your schedule is piled day by day with athletes coming for their regular checkups and consultations, leaving you drained as soon as the work day is over.

nagi, your loving ‘partner’ notices this because he always likes to stick around after hours and bother you for a massage. he always insists that you do it because it’s like an immediate ‘full heal’ but you just think that he’s too lazy to book a professional masseuse and that you’re the next best thing.

whatever. at least he’s cute.

“i hardly see you nowadays,” he mutters, voice muffled by the leather bed of your workspace. 

you gather a little more lotion on your hands, spreading it along his calves before pressing your thumbs into his muscles, trying to identify where any tight spots might be. “i’m sorry, i don’t have much time nowadays. appointments with you guys go all the way til six, and i don’t get home until 6:30. then i’m practically out like a light.”

he hums in torment and in consideration, tensing his shoulders a little as a natural response to the pain in his legs. “well, tomorrow’s a saturday. can i take you out?”

“i don’t know, some athletes may sporadically come and bother me to get a massage so i’ll let you know if anything comes up.”

“be serious.”

“i am free tomorrow.”

“sick. keep it that way.”

“even if athletes bother me for a much-needed massage in order to perform at their best?”

he huffs something in response before flopping his face back down on the leather bed, the (seemingly invincible) knots in his calves taking too much of your attention for you to think too hard about tomorrow’s date with nagi. 

he’s still wearing your hair tie around his wrist. 

true to his word, nagi picks you up the next day at 3pm for your date since he insisted that was the earliest he would be ready by (meaning, it’s the earliest he can wake up). when you meet him, you’re a little stunned by the amount of disguises he’s wearing. sunglasses, beanie, and a face mask, you’re not sure whether he’s going to attract more attention or blend in.

also, when you’re 6’3 it’s hard to avoid eyes.

“hey, i’m supposed to meet someone called nagi, he’s got white hair, grey eyes, 190 cm, have you seen him?” you ask as soon as you approach the soccer player. he sighs through his mask when you erupt into a fit of laughter. “i’m just kidding.”

nagi brings down his mask to sit below his chin. “your boyfriend is right here,” he corrects, voice demanding and authoritative, sending shivers down your spine. 

“so he is,” you mumble, stepping closer to engulf him in a hug. he wraps his arms around you in return and you contentedly sigh when he pulls you into the comfortable, expensive material of his hoodie. “what’s with the disguise?”

“i don’t want anyone to ruin our day out so i’m wearing this.”

“ever so thoughtful aren’t you?” 

when you take a step back, nagi’s careful to not let you stray too far which is indicated through the protective arm he keeps around your shoulders. 

“should we get going?”

“yeah.”

the white-haired laces your hands with his, his grip gentle yet committed to keeping you near him as you stroll down the warming streets of tokyo.

“it’s finally spring,” nagi comments offhandedly, causing you shift your gaze towards him. you’re surprised that he was initiating conversation, majority of the time it was you doing the rambling and him partaking in the listening. “the cold weather was getting bothersome. hated going to practise all freezing, makes warmup so hard.”

“i like the cold weather,” you say. “it’s easier to dress for winter than it is for summer.”

“that is true.”

“do you like spring?”

“yeah, ‘s my favourite season.”

you didn’t think someone like nagi would bother too much with having a favourite season. “why’s that?”

“it’s a good season for napping and staying inside. i like that i don’t have to do much nor think about much.” 

such a nagi response. you admire how stubborn he sticks to his ideals and general philosophy, it’s a comforting quality and aspect to have. 

“plus it’s your birthday season,” you add. 

he looks at you with a gentle smile before repeating: “it’s my birthday season.”  

nagi takes you to a park where the cherry blossoms are in full bloom, its petals decorating the scenery and ground, creating a dainty, lovely carpet of pink and beauty. however, the main attraction of the date isn’t the scenery of the park but rather, the lake where several pedal boats float on the water; some occupied, some vacant.

the soccer player shows the attendant his purchased tickets, getting them scanned before you’re led to get on one of the boats. 

“so… are you liking the date?” nagi asks when you’re out far enough from the dock so that no one can hear you. here, he takes off his mask, tucking it into his pocket.

“i am, i’ve been wanting to ride one of these boats for a long time but i’ve just never found the time,” you confess. “i’m glad that it’s with you. thanks, nagi.” 

he looks away, an obvious pink tint appearing on his cheeks as he rubs his neck in embarrassment. “it’s okay, i s’pose.”

“you’re so cute,” you say whilst raising one hand to drag through his hair.

“stop,” he whines but not brushing you off or pulling away, instead, he leans into your touch.

a few minutes of silence pass by before nagi speaks up again, retreating back into his personal space as he fishes for something in his hoodie pocket. he pulls out a long velvet box, handing it over for you to take which you do with a little hesitation.

“i wanted to give you something to mark two months,” he tells you and you feel your heart drop.

“wait what? two months? i didn’t know we were celebrating that!” (because you spend too much time fretting over the day he’d tell you that he wants to break up, not needing this fake relationship anymore.) “i didn’t get you anything, i feel terrible now-”

“-it’s not a big deal, i just wanted to give you something.”

“nagi i can’t accept this, this is too good-”

“-i insist.”

“but i don’t have anything for you-”

in the blink of an eye his hands are clasped tightly around yours, his face incredibly close to yours that you’re stupefied into silence. “i. insist.”

you stare at him for another three seconds before relenting, opening the velvet box with the utmost care in fear that you might drop it in the water; a horrifying thought. 

a gasp of delight slips out of your mouth when you see an emerald necklace beaming brightly in your face. it’s in the shape of a pendant, encrusted around a halo plate with gold surrounding it, and from the looks of it, it couldn’t have been cheap.

looking back up at him to express the disbelief you feel, you’re silenced by the gentle look in his eyes, one that shines with adoration and devotion.

“it’s beautiful,” you whisper, unable to talk much louder in fear that it’ll cause the emerald to shatter in your hand. “you shouldn’t have.”

“i wanted to because i really like you. stop worrying.”

you exhale deeply, a little flustered and caught off guard by how candid he was. this feels suspiciously real.

“where did you learn to be so romantic?” you quiz, using humour to narrow how awkward you felt. 

“shoujos,” he answers shamelessly.

“ah.” makes sense as to why he makes you feel like you’re in one. “can you help me put the necklace on?”

the white-haired shines with glee, features brightening for a second. “y-yeah, of course.”

“thank you.” 

when he grasps the jewellery in his hold you turn around to expose the back of your neck to him, practically holding your breath when you feel his warm fingers brush against your skin, his touch barely there yet still prominent enough to blaze trials of fire where he caresses. 

“how do i look?” you ask, turning back around.

“beautiful,” he says, no louder than a whisper.

eventually the boat ride comes to an end and you return back to the dock. a lingering feeling of bliss and giddiness resonates in your chest, evident in the undeniable grin plastered on your face whilst you walk through the park; this time with a pretty gemstone adorning your neck. 

“nagi, look!” you exclaim, gesturing over to a company-branded photo booth that had set itself up in the middle of the park. there were various people lining up for one and judging by the pleased squeals from groups of students, it would be a nice memory to keep for today. “should we take one?”

“sure,” he shrugs, letting you drag him to hop in the queue which was going much faster than you anticipated. 

when it’s your turn, there’s hardly any time to discuss poses when the cameraman clicks the countdown button so unexpectedly. you reflexively hug nagi whilst smiling and he just gives a simple peace sign. he then stands behind you, wrapping his arms around you to place his head atop yours. finally, he bends down to kiss your cheek, rendering you completely mentally inable as you default a pose, not entirely too sure which one whilst you wait for the countdown and the camera flash. 

“you guys are so cute!” the photographer exclaims, handing your photobooth strips already. even then you hadn’t regained your senses, relying on nagi to guide you with his hand on the small of your back. 

glancing down at the photo strip, you’re stunned into speechlessness at the last photo. you can still remember the feeling of his lips on your cheek, specks of his warmth lingering on your skin whilst you continue trying to register what just happened.

you might explode or something. 

“cute,” nagi mumbles whilst putting the photo strip into his wallet, pulling you in by the waist to stand closer to him, whispering in your ear. “i still have one place i want to take you.” 

“do you?” you squeak, earning you a nod as he leads you through the park, coming to a stop when you enter a somewhat secluded section that had a sign labelled ‘private picnic rooms’ with various price ranges according to the number of people.

once again, he claims to have a reservation and you’re led by an attendant towards a specific area that had a table scattered with plates of snacks and various decorations. the vibe of the room was incredible with tatami mats, a floor to ceiling glass window that outlook the cherry blossoms, and if you tried hard enough, you could hear a stream running. 

“you… really outdid yourself,” you murmur, wandering over to one side of the table, expecting him to sit on the other. instead, he takes the spot right beside you.

you’re not too sure if this layout is how the establishment intended it to be but it is now.

“so you like it?” 

“i do. i love everything you’ve done today, you’re too good for me.”

“not true,” he grumbles, too quiet for you to address it further but loud enough for you to hear.

your relationship doesn’t make any sense to you. why is nagi trying so hard to impress you when this relationship was just for beneficial gain? what does he get from booking a pedal boat ride, buying you a (clearly expensive) emerald necklace, then taking you to have a private picnic? 

picking up a piece of halved mochi with the provided fork, you give the first bite to nagi who is more than happy to oblige, chewing on it with a satisfied expression. 

he’s so cute, you could pinch him.

your eyes then flit over to the decorations on the table, reaching over to the branch of cherry blossoms in a vase before you could think, ripping off one of the sticks with the bloomed flower and putting it in nagi’s hair and behind his ears. his adorableness just tripled.

“aww you look really cute with pink!”

“ya think so?” 

“yeah! you’re so pretty nagi,” you reach over to fiddle with the flower, not registering how close you’d gotten to him until you feel his breath fan across your face.

then you comprehend it, frozen in place for a second as you study nagi’s beauty from an angle you hadn’t before. how his snowy hair fanned perfectly over his forehead, the way the light bounced in the reflection of his eyes, and the imperfections that littered across his skin all contributed towards making the pretty being that was nagi seishiro. 

he leans in. you freak out, instinctively turning your head.

your breath gets caught in your throat when you feel nagi’s lips brush against the corners of your mouth, lingering there for a moment before parting and the look of hurt that flashes across his face hurts your soul. 

did you do the right thing? you thought you did- you know nagi isn’t into you the way you are into him. this relationship was made for media attraction, for him to gain more seconds of fame, so why does he keep acting like you two are real? why does he keep protecting your identity from the internet, why did he wear a disguise when meeting you when he would have wanted to boast that he was taken, why does he want to kiss you?

why does he look so hurt when he didn’t?

this was all so confusing.

tension lingers in the air for the rest of the date. you try to compensate for it by being a little more affectionate, giving in to your desires of openly loving him for the day. nagi’s satisfied.

you don’t notice how the cherry blossom fell from his ear.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

you won’t find answers to your questions for a long time. in fact, the amount of questions you had quadrupled one night when you had spent the day at nagi’s apartment after work one day to watch a tv show that was on his ‘to-watch’ list.

“stay the night?” asks nagi, resting his head on your shoulder to give you his best puppy-dog eyes. you will yourself to not look at him by keeping your gaze firm on the television screen. 

“oh this episode sounds good. maybe we can watch this then i’ll get going,” you mutter whilst fiddling with the remote, dutifully ignoring his pleads and the way he tugs at you; something that does not resonate well with him. 

“oi. don’t ignore me.”

with a rough exhale, you finally turn towards him. “i can’t.”

“why not? we don’t have work tomorrow.” 

“i know but i just feel bad to bother you and take up your space.”

“you’re not botherin’ me. there’s so much space here, it feels empty without you.”

“nagi-”

“-won’t you call me seishiro? or something more romantic?”

the relationship shifts with his very words and you feel the genuine desperation that bleeds from nagi through his tone. when you look him in the eye, part of you shines with hope that maybe your relationship was real and not bred for media benefit.

in this moment of weakness, you let the top of your walls crumble.

“okay, seishiro.”

he beams. a smile so pure that you shatter like glass in his hands. “yay.”

you then find yourself underneath him as he lays his entire body weight over you, pressing you into the comfortable cushions of his couch as his hands delicately run up and down your waist. paralysed with confusion at the amount of love he pours into his touch, you keep forgetting that the higher you climb, the harder the inevitable fall will be. 

“stay the night, please?”

how could you say no when he was asking so nicely? “okay, seishiro.”

“yay.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“hey seishiro, are you ready?” you ask, fiddling with your rings as you round the corner of your living room where your oversized boyfriend is lounging across the couch whilst you got ready (boyfriend still feels weird to say even if he has zero problems with addressing himself by that title).

“yeah. let’s go-” he grumbles, cutting himself off when he glances over at you, eyes widening. “-whoa.”

heat rushes to your cheeks whilst nagi continues to shamelessly marvel at you, slowly standing up to cross the distance between you, his hands naturally hovering to hold your hips when he’s close enough. his gaze lingers even longer on the emerald necklace that sits between your collarbones. “like what you see?”

he stays silent for a second, leaving you to anticipate his answer. “we don’t have to go to isagi’s,” he mumbles. “how do we feel about staying in?” 

“don’t. your best friend is hosting this party, can’t you at least show up for him?” 

the white-haired sulks. “but you look so good. why should i celebrate that shortie instead of you?”

you push his face away, jokingly fed up with your boyfriend’s lazy attitude. “isagi is also my friend and i want to celebrate with him, just for an hour or two and then we can leave. deal?” 

“fine.”

twenty minutes later, you arrive at isagi’s place where a good amount of his closest friends had gathered, showing up far earlier than you and nagi did. 

truthfully, you were looking forward to isagi’s party since he was not throwing a massive rave where everyone was invited- those always ended up to be more unfortunate than fun in your opinion, and that wouldn’t exactly cater to his shy and sensible character. tonight was a gathering for his friends to hangout and celebrate. some you recognise from the team, some of them must be from high school or elsewhere.

bachira’s cheery face is the first one you see upon arrival, his smile wide as he practically bounces off the walls in excitement and you already begin to wonder just how many desserts and sweets he’s had upon arrival. 

“hey it’s the couple of the century!” he exclaims with a wink. nagi keens at bachira’s compliment, all proud and boastful as his hand creeps up to hold your hip protectively. “lookin’ good as always!” 

“yo, where’s isagi?” the white haired questions.

“around, i’ll take you to him c’mon!” 

the two soccer players are off before you can even count to three, nagi and bachira disappearing into the crowd as the hyperactive boy drags your 190 cm of a boyfriend through the crowd. well, at least he took the gift you both bought with him, but now you feel a little alone and very awkward.

walking around the hallways of isagi’s, you feel a little out of place since most of them seemed to be high school friends. it’s not until you reached the kitchen that you sigh in relief, met with the familiar, friendly faces of chigiri and reo who see you first.

“hey!” the red-haired calls out, waving at you as you walk over to them. “it’s good to see you, y/n, how are you?”

“hey chigiri, hey reo, i’m good! i just arrived but this seems like a cool gathering. isagi’s really outdone himself,” you greet.

“yeah he did. good way to unwind before the soccer season gets too crazy,” reo chips in. “nice outfit by the way, you served!”

“oh shut up, you look amazing yourself. you too chigiri.” 

“so… where’s nagi?” the purple-haired asks, checking his phone to see if he had received any texts from his best friend. “didn’t he come with you?”

“yeah but bachira dragged him to go talk to isagi as soon as i arrived. you know how he is.”

after a few more minutes of talking with the two, you finally pause the conversation out of concern about nagi’s whereabouts might be. you thought he’d come and find you after a while but guess you’ll search for him first. 

informing the pair first before breaking away, you wander into the rooms where bachira pulled nagi into, blindly hoping that they’ll be in there. to your chagrin, there were only a few unfamiliar faces spread along the couches, discussing something with a drink in their hand. you ignore the sight of otoya and one of isagi’s friends sitting too close for comfort.

when you walk into the next room, you stop in your tracks at the sight in front of you: nagi leaning against the wall with a stranger who clearly has no distinction of personal space, their hand resting on his chest. your heart plunges the bottom of your stomach as distraught settles within you because of the scene unfolding in front of you, chest churning with a distant ache that you can’t put your finger on.

then he looks over at you.

the instinct to turn around and run overpowers any rational judgement, especially when a flurry of emotions begin to well up inside you, causing you to sink further and further in an ocean of doubt and fear. 

you had no right to be jealous, not over nagi because you’re just his ‘pseudo-partner’, he’s not really yours and it’s moment like these that truly humble you into remembering. you’re just his ‘pseudo-partner’, you’re just his ‘pseudo-partner’, you’re just his-

“-where are you going?” comes an indifferent voice from behind you. all anxiety floods out of you like a broken dam. a warm, large hand tugs on your wrist and even if he had not spoke, you’d know from touch alone that it was nagi behind you. the multitude of times that he’s spent holding you, intertwining his hand with yours, and cherishing you has forced you to brand him into your memory. 

you are his. even if it is not mutual, you would be his until he stomps the fire out.

“i-i thought i was interrupting something,” you stammer, looking into at nagi’s doe eyes.

“you didn’t. actually, you made it better by coming,” he says before wrapping his arms around your torso. “that person wouldn’t leave me alone, such a pain. tried to say i was taken too, so glad you came.”

you return the hug, trusting his words. “glad i came too.”

nagi pulls you out of the water.

“can we leave yet? i don’t wanna be here anymore.”

“just a little longer. i haven’t even seen isagi yet. plus, we should dance.”

he gives you a quick look up and down before nodding in agreement. you smack his shoulder.

you manage to locate isagi rather quickly. he was near the food bar where refreshments and various desserts and snacks laid so after greeting him, wishing him ‘happy birthday’, and chatting with him for approximately five minutes before nagi started getting bitchy, you’re pulled into the dance floor by the white-haired. he said that they were playing a good song when you asked why he was being so impatient.

with a laugh, you give in.

nagi doesn’t really know how to dance but you can’t help but be a little entertained, deciding to end his awkwardness when you grab his hands and lead him through some moves, singing along to the song with each other. it ends with your arms around his neck and his around your waist (again) when a slower song plays. 

hiding your face in his chest, you breathe in the subtle aroma of his cologne that you urged him to put on earlier. when he gently prompts you to look up at him with a hand gently pulling on your hair, your breath gets caught in your throat at the close proximity as nagi stares at your lips, glancing up to meet your eyes again before leaning in.

this time you don’t feel as cruel, bracing yourself for the first sip of water after crossing the desert, for the final puzzle piece clicking into place, for the feeling of his lips slotting against yours; for the feeling of completion. 

instantly you relax at the sensation, melting into his embrace as you hold onto him a little tighter, wanting more. you want to take as much of him as he’ll allow and even then, you’ll cherish every last part.

you want him the same way the ocean longs for the moon.

parting from him makes you feel empty. the lidded look he gives you is full of temptation and… love?

snapping out of your reverie, you step away from him, using his dazed state to create some distance between the two of you as you come to your senses. senses that scream at you for possibly ruining… this. 

you hate that you keep running away from him, leaving him in the dust of the mess that are your feelings. it’s immature, irrational, and downright childish, really it is, but how else can you stop the way you’re about to burst at the seams? how can you stop yourself from devoting yourself fully to nagi seishiro if you don’t forcefully screw the lid over your emotions?

for the second time tonight, the white-haired chases after you because there was never another option. he despises being away from you and despises it even more when it’s him you’re running away from, wanting nothing more than to be by your side at all times.

for the second time tonight, he grabs your wrist but now, he leads you through isagi’s house, weaving through a series of well-kept and simply decorated rooms to finally arrive at a balcony. one that was untouched by the party goers.

“why do you keep doing this?” he asks, pleading for an answer as desperation laces his voice and eyes. “why do you keep running away?”

you’re stunned. he’s hurt by your carelessness and the way you constantly recoil from him as if he was electric, his powerful figure slouching, all his quiet confidence and stubbornness seeping out of him, running to pool at your feet. 

“am i doing something wrong? i thought you liked me.”

“i-i’m confused,” you stammer stupidly. 

he grows even more perplexed. “you’re confused? i’m even more confused! one second i think you like me then the next, you’re trying to avoid me. why do you keep doing this? i really really like you, y/n. but it doesn’t feel like you like me at all sometimes.”

“no!” you blurt out. “it’s not like that! i do like you, a lot, in fact i might even… love you? it’s just…”

as you try to recap the timeline of your relationship in the past few months, you find yourself at a loss for words as you truly realise the multitude of your stupidity. you might slap yourself in the face.

this entire time, nagi has liked you- genuinely liked you for who you are yet you’ve been denying the love he has been trying to share with you since you internalised it all to be a sham. that someone like nagi seishiro couldn’t want you in the same way you wanted him. you’ve been hurting him this entire time and you don’t know how to begin explaining why.

well… no other option than with one word at a time.

you go to grab both his hands, inhaling. “i didn’t think we got together based on genuine feelings.”

he recoils, eyebrows and nose scrunching. 

“i thought you were using me to- i don’t know, trend on the internet by teasing everyone with some sort of secret relationship which sounds so stupid, i know, but i just couldn’t believe that you would want me for me,” you ramble, only stopping to breathe. “these few months have been amazing but i lowkey thought you were going to break up with me and say something like ‘surprise! i’ve never liked you’ before leaving me. i don’t deserve someone like you and-” 

“what?”

you shut up.

“you thought you don’t deserve me? that’s the biggest lie i’ve ever heard. you’re perfect. i was the one that got lucky.”

“lucky? you? really?”

“yeah,” he breathes. “you’re like a gift sent by fate.”

that renders you speechless for a little. there’s more to say, you know there is because of the pregnant silence that lingers around the two of you for a little but maybe that’s for another time. 

are you dreaming? this feels surreal. maybe you’ll start floating too. 

“also, why would i want to trend for any other reason but soccer?”

“i don’t know! you asked me out really abruptly- i’ve never been asked out like that before! talk about confusing. and the paparazzi was waiting for us after too like, what was i supposed to think!”

“i see.”

“yeah.”

more silence.

“so… you love me?” nagi asks and you groan, removing your hands from his to cover your face from embarrassment. 

“i guess i do,” you grumble.

“hey, don’t hide from me,” the white-haired says before grabbing your wrists to lower them from your face. “i love you too.”

“really?”

“yeah.”

“that’s cool.”

“it is.”

you do both of you a favour by kissing him fervently. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“sei, shouldn’t you be getting ready for the match or whatever it is you athletes do?” you ask when nagi’s mop of white hair peaks up from behind the door to your physio office.

he steps out from behind the doorframe, crossing the distance to get to you. he’s sporting his blue lock tracksuit with his hands dug into his pocket and you’re a little envious of how comfortable he looks. “i was until i realised you weren’t there. i was waiting for you to show up.”

“well i don’t really have to be there early. i just get there around 20 or so minutes earlier.”

“i see.”

“why, did you want me there or something?” you ask with a cheeky eyebrow raise, poking him in his sides causing him to recoil a little from your touch.

“why else would i walk all this way?”

“a stunning 50 metres- i’m so sorry for your perilous journey,” you comment, placing a kiss on his cheek before walking away from him to set up your box of medical supplies including kinesio tapes, bandages, and cold spray. he slumps down on the waiting couch near the entrance.

your role as blue lock’s official therapist meant that you had to be on standby for the team at all time during official matches. even though you aren’t their nurse, you still bring first aid things like ice packs to minimise the amount of time spent travelling between offices, especially if that distance is not needed. 

after scanning the box for the last time and mentally ticking your checklist of materials required to bring, you pat your leg in satisfaction before standing up. “i can go to the field now. there’s probably tape changes that i need to do.”

nagi lazily grins, searching for your hand to help pull himself up. “yay.”

“you need to be warming up while we’re at it.”

“aw. okay.”

the walk back to the field is painless enough with nagi holding onto your hand for dear life whilst carrying your box of supplies for you. for someone who is about to compete in less than an hour, he is surprisingly calm, hardly different from his passive, pacifistic self. should you be nervous on his behalf?

stepping in to the field, you’re overwhelmed by the enormousness of blue lock’s home stadium, the lights shining down on you so brightly that you need a moment to recollect yourself. to think that all these empty seats will be filled with various people scares you mindless; even vacant it was still overwhelming.

“y/n!” isagi’s voice breaks you out of your reverie and he jogs over to you with that friendly smile of his. “what’s up?”

“hey isagi, sei dragged me out of my office,” you grumble before turning around to the white-haired who places your supplies on the ground, instructing him to: “go continue warming up.”

he grumbles something incoherent, leaning in to place a kiss on your forehead before running off, leaving you a little flustered as the dark-haired player waits patiently to talk to you.

“so what’s up?”

“i just needed my ankle to be retaped, is that okay?”

“that is my job so come over,” you say, beckoning isagi to one of the benches nearby where you decide to station yourself for the time being. 

whilst you’re unrolling the adhesive, he awkwardly sits there with his shoe and sock off, exposing his joint where he already you tape it for him. 

“do you want pink or blue tape?” you ask, holding up the two options.

“pink.”

the background noises of athletes shouting and kicking soccer balls fill the silence whilst you cut up the length needed to tape isagi’s ankle.

“how are you and nagi?” he asks.

“we’re good,” you respond, mentally reminding yourself to give isagi a present in exchange for his birthday being the sole reason why your relationship strengthened. “both been busy cause of the season but it’s fine.” 

“that’s okay, you’re making it work!” he reassures, “well, nagi is really happy.”

“is he now?” you ask, looking intently at your hands as they worked around isagi’s ankle, hiding your giddy expression from the soccer player. the effect nagi has on you will never disappear.

“yeah! always talks about you to us.”

“does he?”

“of course, why wouldn’t he? swears you’re the best thing to have happened to him in a long time or whatever.”

your heart warms uncontrollably. nagi seishiro was going to be your downfall. 

finishing up on isagi’s ankle, he tests it out quickly before thanking you and running off again to blend in with his teammates again. ‘don’t work too hard!’ you yell out after him.

after retaping chigiri’s knee, commanding karasu to do his recommended exercises, and other various checkups, the boys are ushered back into the stadium so the audience could begin filing in. before nagi went in, he runs over to you, bundling you in his arms despite the various exclaims of ‘hurry up!’ yelled at your white-haired partner.

“gotta go,” he says breathily.

“wait, shouldn’t you take this off?” you ask, gesturing to your hair tie which sat snugly at his wrist. 

“do i have to?”

“you can always rewear it after the match sei, it’s not a big deal.” 

“fine. i’ll see you soon then.”

you give him a smile of reassurance, hugging him back. “go. i’ll be watching, my superstar.”

his eyes shine. “cheer for me, won’t you?”

“of course i will. i’m your lucky charm,” you tease but he takes your statement quite literally, grinning at what you say which only illuminates the cheery look on his face.

“can my lucky charm give me a kiss?”

cupping his face, you quickly place a peck on his nose before lightly pushing him away. you know the kiss is not good enough to satiate his hunger but perhaps that’s just what you want from him, to try hard for a better reward. and in this case, by trying harder, he would bring home the trophy.

“go line up!” you command. 

nagi grumbles something before stepping away, “i’ll score for you.” 

he dashes towards the stadium entrance, leaving you in a lovesick daze as you watch him retreat. someone clears their throat behind you and you remember where you are, sitting down to preserve some professionalism. 

sitting in the medics corner was scary, especially as you watch every seat getting gradually filled with an onslaught of different people, but all you need to do for the 90 minutes is watch and be attentive to the game and the health of the players. an easy job for the amount of pay you get.

when the teams walks out into the field, everyone in the stands erupt into a roar, waving their various flags and colours. despite the chaos, nagi looks over at you and you blow him a kiss, unsure of whether or not he could actually see you. 

as everything settles down, the match finally begins, starting off with a bang. from time to time you talk with the two other blue lock medics and spend the other moments admiring your boyfriend in his athletic glory.

it’s not until almost halftime that something disastrous happens. when itoshi rin collides face-first into another player, toppling over on the field on top of each other, the crowd erupts into a series of gasps and concerned noises. as the referee’s whistle is called, you three official blue lock staff scramble to the middle of the field where a crowd was gathering around the two, trying to help their soccer players but stepping out of the way when you approach.

“where are you?” one medic begins asking.

“the stadium. we’re in the middle of a match,” comes rin’s gruff tone.

“you are?”

“itoshi rin.”

“how many fingers am i holding up?”

“four.”

“what hurts?”

“my fucking face,” rin snarkily replies, trying to stand up but not making it past his knees as he stumbles a little, holding on to his nose. “shit.”

taking his hand away, there are droplets of red coating his skin and you snake yourself under his arm in order to assist with helping him to the medic’s area, another nurse doing the same. hopefully it’s not serious and he won’t need be to sent to hospital, only benched by ego. which, he was. 

in your panic, you don’t register any of the commotion happening within the players themselves whereas nagi, on the other hand, hears it all clearly. how a player on the team he was playing against says something like ‘look at that cutie. reckon i could cuff ‘em?’ where his friend replies with a ‘yeah dude. seems like a babe to be honest, workin’ as a nurse and shit’, geturing to you.

nagi has never felt such an overwhelming urge to punch someone, to jump the two players and tear them apart with the fury he feels accumulating in his insides.

the whistle to notify that the game was continuing disrupts nagi’s train of thought. he goes back into position but not without snaring at the opposition. 

blue lock seems to be doing fine without their number one player for the remainder of the game; in fact, nagi is practically dominating the whole field as he shoots, earning goals left and right for blue lock. he’s moving with unmatched determination; a blazing kind that you’ve never seen from him despite having seen countless of his games. you wonder what happened to him since rin got injured, where did the calm, unbothered nagi go? why are you kind of scared of your boyfriend right now?

maybe your good luck kiss worked in giving him the boost you predicted.

however, you never could have predicted the huge turnaround that your life would take when nagi’s jealousy gets too ahead of itself. when his urge to show the world whose you are outspeaks his rationality, too caught up in the torments of untamed jealousy. he’s never felt this way before; a carnal desire so inherent that it makes him feel bare.

only you could do this to him.

and only you could fix the ugly monster inside him

when blue lock scores the goal needed to take the trophy home, the stadium is deafening, so loud that you need to cover your ears from the unrestrained passion of fans and watchers alike, the buzz of excitement unmatched. 

nagi is awarded man of the match, taking home a shiny trophy in recognition of his athleticism and remarkable talents. yet the first thing he does when taking his prize is not rush over to his teammates and… do whatever it is that men do, but to run over to where you reside, a possessive and dark look in his eyes. it sends shivers down your spine. 

he sweeps you into his arms, winding you so close that you can feel the body heat radiating from him, even through the fabric of his jersey. the trophy presses against your back.

“can i kiss you?” nagi questions although it sounds more like a demand, especially with that breathy voice due to how much he’s been running around.

short circuiting for a moment, you reply: “but everyone’s watching.”

“let them.”

you’re well aware of the multitude of cameras that may be pointed at you and nagi. if you act stupidly, it will appear on the internet and who knows what repercussions it might bring, are you ready to be thrown into a life of chaos, joining alongside your boyfriend?

the answer is obvious when you take the initiative of kissing him, allowing him to devour you whole: his first act of establishing just exactly who you were to the entire world.

you adore how scandalous this feels.

his second act comes mere minutes later at the exit where paparazzi and media were waiting patiently behind barriers for their star players. this time, instead of leaving alone or with his teammates, there’s an unidentified figure accompanying him, hugged close to his side and proudly wearing his jersey. the very one that boasts ‘NAGI’ along the back. everything descends into chaos. 

an immense feeling of deja vu encompasses you when you recall the day nagi asked you out and the overwhelming lineup of paparazzi and photographers that waited for him outside. it’s different now. you feel confident in your place beside nagi, looking perfect to him in his clothes- as if you were meant to be his.

nagi walks in front of you to use his stature to protect from the greedy eyes of the internet whilst you use your hands to cover your face as best as possible, all to ensure your privacy from those who are going to eat these photos up when they see them. 

and- well, if everyone is going to see them then why not send a little message whilst nagi’s here?

the kiss nagi sneaks on your neck is entirely proprietorial, a clear sign of affection for the whole world to see as he eyes the cameras with a deadly look in his eyes. 

“mine,” he mutters in your ear, sending one last glare over his shoulder before disappearing from their nosiness and intruding flashes.

the cameras can see your hair tie that slips up when his sleeves are tugged too short.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

your notifications are rampant the next morning, mostly because of friends, and ‘#nagi seishiro’ has taken the internet by storm once again.

this feeling of anxiety settling in your stomach will never go away whenever you check social media to see if any of your information has been leaked and by whatever miracle, you’re absolutely relieved to see that nothing drastic has been revealed.

speaking of boyfriend, nagi stirs from where he lays beside you, stretching for a moment before patting the bed in search for your warmth. 

shutting off your phone and putting it down, you watch him try to locate you, unable to stop the smile from stretching at the corner of your lips. he’s adorable. even more so when he has to open one eye because his instincts were failing him.

“oh. why are you awake?” he asks groggily, still adjusting to consciousness. nagi tries to sit up to rest on his elbows only to fail miserably and fall face-first into his lush pillow.

“body clock,” you say. you’ll talk about yesterday later. right now, it was just you and him and the soft glow of the sun saying good morning.

“turn it off and go back to sleep.”

“fine.”

“c’mere,” nagi beckons you over weakly, hands reaching for your figure but falling short due to the enormous size of his bed.

it’s not like nagi to splurge on things but it is like him to splurge on getting the most comfortable bed ever, so when he demands you to fall back asleep, how could you say no when it feels like napping on a cloud? and with your adorable boyfriend? some things in life come too easy.

shuffling back towards him, he’s quick to throw an arm and a leg around you, trapping you in. 

“my body hurts,” whines nagi. “so much.”

“what do you want me to do about that?”

“massage later, please?” 

“is that all i am to you?” you question teasingly whilst rubbing hearts into his skin.

“maybe,” he sings.

astounded, you give him your best look of betrayal. “we’re breaking up.”

“no, don’t do that,” nagi pleads, hugging you closer as if you were going to get up from his vice grip in the first place. “don’t be mean.”

“oh sure because i’m the mean one,” you joke as he burrows his head into your neck. instinctively, your hands card through his hair, extra soft from washing it last night. after a moment of silence, you speak up. “you’re trending again because of me so just remember that what i said about our fame-grabbing relationship was true.”

“i didn’t mean for that to happen. i’m just too good,” he takes his head out of your neck, doe eyes looking up at you with heart wrenching awe. “and i love you too much to hide it.”

you pat his cheek, unable to stop a wide, dreamy smile from appearing on your face. “go back to sleep.”

“‘k. goodnight.” the second nagi’s head hits his pillow, he’s out like a light. 

it’s a little surreal to be wrapped in his embrace like this, to be able to gaze at his features so closely and unabashedly whilst his arms extend to mould you into him. even being as close as humanly possible isn’t enough for nagi who has an unlimited desire for more, at all times. 

if it’s you he wants, then you’ll happily grant it.

the last thing you see before falling into a deep slumber is a hair tie that lies on his bedside table.

[jealousofmydreams]

Indulgences of the beast II

Synopsis : In which Father Charlie, the symbol of faith and sacrifice, succumbs to his own temptations as the restraints of his inner beast are broken free, allowing it to roam and pursue its desired prey.

warnings : {dubcon, drowning, suffocation, forced infidelity, breathplay, 18+}

a/n : please read part one before reading this one. i have not watched the show, only saw one too many clips of it and wrote this. nothing is probably accurate so read it for fun. might write another part but as a bonus chapter but i'm not sure yet.

ACT IV

She managed to get through the first stone arch, past the tower and the church. Now, she just needed to get to the second building, where their personal quarters were.

Her thoughts were filled with doubts but there wasn't time to linger on them as she finally entered the quarters. Her heart gradually slowed down from their rapid palpation. She made her steps as quiet as possible and stuck close to the wall.

She could only hope she wouldn't encounter anyone.

However, as if her worries were meant to come to life, just as she turned into a corner, she ran into someone.

She flailed back and tripped on her own feet. Before she could stumble even more, she was held back by a strong arm.

They held her close to their chest and her fingers tightly gripped the cloth on instinct.

It took her a moment until she realized what had happened, and looked up at the person holding her.

The person she saw, was the last person she wanted to see, Father Charlie.

His face was grim. The furrow of his brows and his pursed lips were a contrast to the usual kind expression he wore. This was the second time she had seen this expression, and she didn't like that it was yet again pointed at her.

"I'm sorry Father, I didn't see where I was going," she tried to move away, slightly pushing at his chest when she felt resistance. 

Even at her persistence, he did not let her go.

Through the dim hallway, candles wax dripped as they hung up the walls of the corridor. The candles provided enough light where she could confirm his strong gaze was indeed directed at her.  

She whispered his name this time, hoping he could come to his bearing.

"What nightly affairs keeps you up at night," he whipered her name softly at the end. She froze and he took the chance to rest his other hand on her lower back.

Her mind wandered to where she had been minutes ago, but surely, he couldn't have seen her. She barely managed to make it through the quarters even with her rapid pace, how he could have seen her and been here at the same time ?

A quick excuse was on the tip of her tongue, "Late night prayers seem to be one. They are a great comfort to me," she hastily said.

"Prayers that couldn't wait until the next day? Surely even the lord would appreciate a moment of rest," before she could retort back, he spoke again, letting her go but grabbing her by the arm instead. "Come along, if you insist on praying, I shall assist you under these trying times,"

Her feet glided along the floor, she tried to yank her arm back, but his fingers were like claws.

She started to stammer, "Father Charlie, please, I apologize," by then, she could feel the panic overwhelming her. But he acted as if he didn't hear her.

"Please, I should go back to my dwelling, m-my worries have been put to rest," she kept pleading. She wasn't familiar with the corridor she was in anymore.

She did not belong in this area nor within his arms reach, she knew that much now.

She even considered screaming but the panic had her throat closing up. 

By his luck, he managed to drag her along until he came to his chamber. He was quick to push her inside and closed the door shut.

He faced the door while she faced him.

She wanted to melt away, back in the shadows where she was nobody and nothing could hurt her.

Instead, she was forced to face him.

Through her confusion earlier, she wasn't paying much attention to him, but she realized now that Father Charlie was unstable.

He was breathing heavily, and the hand that had long let her go, kept clenching and unclenching as if the muscles in his hand were straining.

She wanted to speak, the words kept forming yet stuck in the back of her throat.

He turned around before she could act.

He had a stern look and she trembled momentarily. She didn't know what to do under his stare.

A moment passed where neither of them moved. She kept fidgeting while he kept staring at her.

With a deep sigh, he approached her.

She flinched just as his hand reached her.

"Sit," even as his hands trembled at her visible rejection, he gestured to the chair leaning against the wall.

She took a hard gulp, which was heard in the small confine of his room.

A man's chamber was not where she belonged, especially not of Father Charlie.

Charlie moved as if everything was normal. He went to the large cross hanging up on his wall. He touched the familiar figure's feet with his right hand then touched his forehead followed by both his shoulders before finally letting his fingers rest on his lips.

When he turned around, he looked at her expectantly. "Won't you pray, sister," he raised his eyebrows. But she remained as stiff as always.

Seeing her shivers in fear, he dragged a hand over his mouth.

With wide steps, he crossed over to her and descended on his knees. The sight made her eyes widen. She tried to rise up but he held both her arms and forced her back into the seat. "I did say I'll help you," he looked at her intently and she almost forgot to exhale.

Gently, he placed a palm on the top of her head and brought it in a bowing motion. Then his fingertips slide down her forehead to lightly press on her eyelids.

Even with her eyes closed, her lids trembled.

"Let us pray," he murmured.

It felt wrong. The way he spoke, the way he held her, was wrong.

Wrong, wrong, wrong, repeated over and over in her head.

His own head bowed and he slowly leaned it against hers. She could feel his body heat and the gentle caresses of his disheveled hair on her forehead.

She nervously rolled her ankles when he took hold of her hands again.

"Divine above, I seek your light and love. Cleanse my mind, body, and soul of any negativity or burdens I carry. Purify my thoughts and intentions, and fill me with peace and clarity. Help me release what no longer serves me, and guide me toward healing..."

She tried to follow his words but the anxiety gripped her tightly. It seemed he was aware of it as his prayers trailed off.

"What bothers you, sister," he spoke yet he didn't lift his head. Instead, he moved his head slightly until his cheek rested on her own, the skin he touched tingling until she was practically shivering.

She stopped breathing as the warnings were blaring in her head now.

"Please let me go," she begged.

How long had he wanted to hear her beg for him, how sweetly she did yet her words felt like a knife twisting in his pounding heart.

A dark chuckle left past his lips until he was full on laughing, one of his hands slapping his crouched thighs.

Before she could react, he gripped her jaw. His fingers digging in the skin.

"Let you go?! I haven't even had you, yet you try to escape from my embrace?" he snarled before getting up.

He pointed a finger in her face, loose strands of his hair hanging on his forehead, his eyes sharp. "You think I don't know, about the letters, that damm tree, I should of cut off his limbs the second he touched you," his face flushed red.

He kept pacing back and forth yet she could only react to his words.

He knew, oh God he knew, that's all she could think about.

"No, no look at me, at me," he gripped her cheeks forcing her lips to pucker. His eyes glanced down at them.

Her swollen lips bitten raw by another man.

With a growl, he licked the sensitive skin, not kissing her just biting and pulling the skin, lapping up until they dripped of his own spit. Red from his own lips and teeth.

When he pulled away both were panting. Her eyes were wide in shock and his were dark. He finally caved in and had a taste of what he always wanted. He couldn't let her go now

She fought to get up of the chair but he forced her down.

"Stop, please," the cries resonated but his fingers did not stop.

He hooked one finger in her mouth and another under her tongue. He pinched her tongue and said her name once. Stern and quiet and she froze. Tears clung to her lashes as she looked in his somber eyes.

He pressed a light kiss to her forehead, as if he was soothing her.

"It's okay, everything is okay, I'm sorry I scared you," His words were meant to be comforting but his actions weren't.

He slowly stroked the side of her face, trying to reassure her. It briefly worked until one of his fingertip slipped under her high collar and touched her flesh.

Before she could react, he pulled at the cloth on her neck. He opened the buttons of her habit, one by one. Tugging and pulling but never ripping.

She sat quivering in the seat, too afraid to move or speak. Every time she tried to speak, she only managed to stutter before she swallowed her words. Embarrassed of her own weakness.

Charlie kept praying to her, the prayers he spoke sounded almost like curses.

He got in her face when she looked away. Tilting his head down, he forced her to look him with a nudge of his fingertip on her chin.

His fingertip felt like stone, a simple touch forcing her still. She couldn't move and could barely find herself to breath.

Everytime he approached her, she kept flinching, afraid.

As he used her frozen form to his advantage, he managed to unbutton half of her habit.

His eyes, which kept flickering between her eyes, with a yearning she could not understand, glanced down at her chest.

His sharp intake of breath broke her haze.

Under her buttoned up robe, her corset peaked through. The tightly wound fabric pushed up against her breasts and the laces crossed over until it was in a perfect bow.

His eyes clouded over, his mouth salivating.

He didn't even unbutton the rest of it before he ripped the robe with his hand. Buttons ripped free, some dangling by a tread. Her loud gasp covered up by the ripping.

His trembling hands shook as they hovered over her spilling breasts. He crouched over her, like a beast preparing to savor his meal, curving his body until she could feel the heat of his body.

The dry gulp he managed to push down irritated his throat even more. But beside his thirst, a surge of rage pulsed through him.

"Does he love you," he muttered, teeth nearly biting her lips from how close he was when he spoke.

He pulled the laces that held her waist in shape. Her mouth fell open as she felt the air leave her lungs. He opened his mouth above hers, breathing her in, panting along with her. Her eyes clouded over in tears, her lungs straining as he ripped the air from her lungs.

Even through the haze, she could understand the words he spoke.

The former nun believed sacrificing her beliefs was the only form of love she could give him. She knew she loved him, and she hoped the same of him.

Yet doubts crept in. They had long resided inside of her. The missed letters, his absences at their rendezvous, his lack of eagerness when they did meet.

However, before she could ponder more, Charlie spoke, almost sneering as he fed into her doubts.

"God loves you, and as a servant of God, it is my duty to do the same," his own eyes were rimmed red with anguish. She could feel the light brush of his lips as he spoke.

He ravaged her mouth moments ago, but could not bring himself to kiss her.

She shook her head, tears rolling down her cheeks which he gracefully licked and sucked until her cheeks bruised.

"How could I praise the lord, w-with my viles acts, he would not forgive me..." 

He pressed his nose into her cheek, his hands cupping the curves of her breasts over the bustier. They were tempted to creep up and touch the flesh but he resisted.

"Then I'll be your Lord, praise me, worship me and I'll have you just as you are," as he spoke, he forced her on her feet.

He ripped the rest of her robe, revealing the tight corset. The loose straps flowing down her arms as her chest heaved. The skirt she wore remained clasped tightly on her hips, but even then, she felt as if she was being devoured her by his eyes.

Charlie could not bring himself to admire her, afraid that if he lost himself in her now, everything will be in vain.

He yanked his own collar and unbuttoned his habit. When she took this chance to push him, he merely stopped and forced her forward, in the corner of his room.

The corner held a basin filled with holy water. The same basin where he had buried his face in, hoping it would cleanse him of his sins after striking his own back raw.

She whimpered as he held one arm under her breasts forcing her lungs to contract while the other one lifted her face by her cheeks, forcing her to look at herself in the small mirror he kept.

She kept squirming when the heat of his naked chest dug into her back, momentarily making her dizzy.

He buried his nose in her cheek slowly dragging it in her hairline. Smelling her until she filled his lungs and he breathed her out.

"Please, please," when he felt her struggle again, his fingers wound around the laces and with one yank of his hand, tightened her corset and pulled until she couldn't breath. Her mouth fell open and the veins on her throat made his teeth ache.

He trailed his tongue over it, tracing it before sucking lightly. He could feel her gasps yet he could not find it in himself to let go.

Even her choking face was beautiful.

"It's okay it's okay, I'm right here" even though she pleaded to be released, he only comforted her, acting as if her pleads were of needs.

He would of kept her in his embrace if she hadn't let out a wail, his hand quick to force itself between her teeth.

She bite furiously, her teeth breaking his skin yet he took it as if she was marking him as her own.

However, a sudden exasperation grew inside of him.

She just kept denying him, his dark impulse took over.

With a swift movement, he bent her over, forcing his thighs behind hers. He held her around her waist and forced her to lay flat with his own weight.

He only stopped lowering her when her hands slapped the wall as she hung over the basin sink. Her face close to the water. She let out a cry, which he paid no mind.

He made sure to situate her before going on his knees. He clasped both her ankles in one of his hand, forcing her to keep the position.

Using her delirious state to his advantage, he used his other hand to lift the bottom of her skirt until he forced it to scrunch up on her lower back.

The position had her opening herself up to him completely.

What was presented before him was beyond anything even heaven could offer. The thin undergarment was soaked, the dark patch in the middle had him panting.

With an inhale, he pressed his nose in her covered hole. The damp fabric emitting her scent and lightly wetting his nose.

He pulled back only to use his free hand to move one cheek, watching as the fabric moved until it settled between her slit.

He did the same with the other until the thin fabric was curving over her sex.

Her bulge made him feel parched. He could faintly see the shape of her lips and the swollen clit above it.

He carefully pinched the lingerie before tugging the tight cloth over her clit, making her jump and hiccup.

However, it did not seem she will let him have his way.

She tried to kick back at him with her feet.

Charlie would of let her continue to struggle. If only she hadn’t tried to bang her weak fist into the wall, surely to wake up the clergy next door.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance.

He was quick to command her back under his thumb, "Naughty naughty girl," he crept up her back, curving himself in her spine and held her fist. She hung her head and cried quietly. Her pleads returning.

However, Charlie's patience ran thin.

He gently caressed the back of her head, placing one final kiss on her hair before pushing her head in the basin.

Forcing her to drink the holy water drenched in his sins while he went to drink from his between her legs.

Undisturbed, he went back on his knees and lifted her until her feet rested on his thighs. He angled her enough to keep her head submerged in the holy water.

With a gentle smile, he was quick to kiss her fat mound. Illiciting a twitch which shuddered through her whole body, her toes digging into his skin.

He moaned happily at the ache she caused.

He dragged one of her foot in his palm until it was over his crotch. The pain she caused him, only turned to pleasure.

She wiggled her feet but he was stronger, forcing his hand down on her foot, keeping it on his aching length.

Charlie was slowly losing his sanity, her scent an intoxicating fragrance.

He peeled open the fabric and salivated when her arousal clung to it.

With a rough tug, he dragged her underwear to her thighs, too impatient to take it off completely.

With her bending over, it took no effort to peer though her sensitive parts.

Her glistening lips a warm welcome compared to her cold touch.

He let out a light breath, the warm air hitting her cunt which made her hips temble.

He could of admired her until dawn emerged, but his tongue hung heavy in his mouth, his throat dry.

He looked straight at her tight hole and tilted his chin until he could spit on it. He watched as his spit slid from her aching core until it almost dripped on the floor.

He caught the hanging spit with his tongue and brought it back to her pussy, memorizing her with his tongue.

Her choking sounds turning high pitched as he felt the curves of her lips and the ridges and bumps. His nose poked though her tight hole where he breathed her in with a satisfied inhale, his chin now soaked with her arousal.

He moaned at her essence before he nudged and cuddled up to her curls above.

Taking a moment to come back to his bearing before he pulled away, plunging his tongue in her tight hole again, the primary source of his longing.

With her constants turning, her skirt that had rested on her lower back slowly fell over his head like a veil.

Charlie remained unchanged, he poked and licked and sucked. One hand held her ankle while the other one gripped her foot under his palm, keeping her balanced on his cock.

Her scent and the heat enveloped him. The lack of air had him momentarily dizzy, but her invading scent brought him back to see his sense. Instead, he licked her back furiously as if her cunt was his lifeline.

He considered it as his own punishment as he smothered himself with the tight enclose of her cunt and her skirt which trapped him in.

She kept flailing around, the pressure of the water and the tightness of her corset and his tongue rolling around her made her dizzy. She felt like she lost her soul. As if she were a mere doll flopping around.

He kept moaning when he felt her tighten around his tongue, dragging and tugging his flesh deeper. Wetness throbbed out of her cunt until it was all he could feel and smell.

His mind was half gone. With hooded eyes, he could barely admire the untouched hole clenching above the one he was licking.

He had the urge to kiss her there too.

However, with one push of her foot, that pressed painfully on his cock, he felt her cum.

She bucked on his face, until she lost her strength. Her arms sliding down the sink and her head dropped until she barely moved in the sink.

Charlie didn't even take a moment to breath as he got out from under her skirt. He gently caressed her legs, dragging his nails on her skin before he placed a wet kiss on her lower back.

He tugged her back to his chest when he stood up. She was panting and coughing. Holy water dripped and ran down her chest. Her eyes were rimmed red and her head lulled around. He tapped her cheeks slightly, a chuckle escaping past his lips, "Atta girl."

When she gained a moment of clarity, her face crunched up. She saw herself in the mirror and realized this wasn't a nightmare, but reality.

As she started to hyperventilate, he wrapped both his warms around her and rocked her. Shushing her softly as if she was a child.

Her fingers trembled over his arms, while he rubbed his face against her damp cheek, "Its okay, darling girl, I'm right here"

She held back her hiccups, her fear mobilizing her.

He took this chance to rock each other, before turning her in his embrace when she quiet down.

She was trembling, spit running down her chin, mixing with the water. He hummed, lapping it up before knocking his nose with hers.

She wouldn't look at him, her eyes hovering over his collarbones.

His eyes nearly crossed over as his rocking slowed down. He tried to lower his face to catch her eyes but she stubbornly refused.

Only when he gripped the back of hair and forced her chin up, did their eyes meet.

"You did so good," he praised her, a gentle smile on his face as if she truly moved him.

Her lips unconsciously parted then. Instead of words only small puffs of air came out. Charlie eyed her and when a silver of pink peeked out, he seized the moment and kissed her.

He wasted no time to explore her palate with a languid sweep of his tongue, drawing a gasp from her. Her waist dipped instinctly and his grip tightened.

His naked flesh was an unwanted comfort against her cold body. But her body instinctly reached for the warmth.

He teased her with playful strokes mapping every corner of her mouth.

She felt that this kind of kiss was no different than lovemaking.

With one last stroke, he slowly pulled away, releasing her with a slow and deliberate retreat.

She met his gaze then, chest heaving.

An haze clouded over her eyes, lost on the sensations she wasn't familiar with.

Charlie scanned her face with dark eyes, his cock twitching in their tight confine as her parted lips had her tongue sticking out. She was barely aware she hasn't completely put her tongue back in after the kiss ended abruptly.

Charlie gently sucked on her tongue which was still half out of her mouth before nibbling on the tip of it, his breathing unsteady.

With a heaving chest, he held her for a moment, crushing her to his chest.

He indulged in her warmth until he wrapped his right arm around her waist and lifted her up slightly. With his other hand, he yanked her skirt down. The fabric ripping before falling to tatters on the floor. Her underwear followed suit, the cloth getting dragged until they rested on her lower legs.

She was still unsteady and could barely register as she felt herself being lowered until her toes grazed the tip of his shoes.

"If you really want me to stop, just say it," her arms trembled over his broad shoulders when she gained awareness.

Without even touching her face, his eyes forced her still. They were in agony as if he was the one being tortured.

When she tried to move, her toes barely grazed his shoes before he turned his body around and pressed her back against the bed.

She blinked, frozen in place.

"I-I" before she could answer, she was silenced when he pulled at the ribbon of her corset in a hurry. He tried to tug the ribbons free but when he meet resistance, he brought both hands and ripped the corset apart.

The rough fabric pinching her skin before releasing and cold her hit her naked chest.

Her body was finally revealed under his preening eyes. Paying no mind to his throbbing hands, his gaze swept her from top to bottom then hurriedly returned to her face. His eyes were dilated and he stared down at her like a man who had gained his sanity.

He locked eyes with her before whispering, "Beautiful,"

He could practically feel the blush rise up her face from how close he was on her.

However, she didn't hold his attention for long. The sight of her breasts made his mouth water. Her nipples pebbled and practically begged to be touched.

With their unspoken wish, he pressed his face between her breasts mouthing and licking her skin.

He brought both his thumbs to flicks and tug at the erect nipple. She could only lay there and take it.

Her silent sobs shook her body. Her fingers digging into her palms, paralyzed by the sensations.

His hands were quick to wrap around hers when they picked at her own skin.

He could not let her harm herself, even though the one currently harming her the most was him.

Charlie trailed down her body, leaving open mouth kisses.

His tongue often peeked out to lick and then bite before he soothed the stinging marks. When he reached her waist, he plunged his tongue into her navel making her squirm at the discomfort.

He breathed her in and a moan slipped out when the smell of her arousal crept up to where he was.

Charlie rose up with his knees on the bed. His string of spit remained until it snapped at his new height.

He used his knees to lock her legs in as he rushed to take his own clothes off, his habit already halfway undone from earlier. He nudged his trousers to his knees, too impatient to take it off completely.

When he noticed her straining legs, trapped by her underwear. He tugged at it roughly until her underwear snapped under the weight of his strength. It pulled at her skin leaving a fresh burn until it was tatters on the bed.

Finally, when he managed to get the thick cloth off, he felt his pride blossom when she watched him, mouth agape and eyes wide, as if she saw the resurrection of the divine above.

Her gasp was loud when his cock sprung free of their confine. The tip red and angry as it bobbed freely on his stomach.

Under her watch, it twitched furiously.

She had to blink a couple of times to believe what she was seeing was real.

Felling proud and almost delighted, he slithered back on top of her.

"Look how good you are to me," he smirked while forcing her arms above her head and placed his own under, keeping her trapped under him.

He pressed kisses down her chest until they glistened with his spit. Her quiet pants overtaken by soft words he could barely discern.

"Forgive me Lord, take pity and forgive my sins. Help me release from the shackles of the beast, guide me towards you light, give me strength," when he heard her praying, a laugh slipped past his laugh.

"Tell me sweet girl, when was the last time you prayed? Do you think the Lord might forgive your sins with a single prayer," he mumbled on her sweaty skin.

His words only made her scrunch up her face, her tears flowing before disappearing in her hair.

With one last laugh, he brought one hand between their body until it was on her cunt. His open hand tapping on her sensitive parts, making her tears of pain turn into pleasure.

Her quiet whines music to his ears.

Even then, the words she thought she had forgotten, flew past her lips, as if she had never stopped praying in the first place.

However, he was quick to swallow her mouth. His tongue twisting her virtues into sins.

Slowly, he placed a finger between her slit and groaned when he felt the opening drip with her arousal.

The kiss arousing her until the sheet beneath her was slick.

He slowly twirled the thick pool of her arousal until she could visibly feel him tug the stickiness from her opening.

With a wet smack from their lips, she threw her head back and closed her legs around his waist in shame.

"You are absolutely divine," he whispered her name at the end.

His fingers gently pulled her chin down before he forced his tongue back in. His tongue touching hers before their lips met.

He explored her mouth and teased her sensitive palate.

His hand, which was holding her chin, moved to the back her head deepening the kiss, their breath mingled as the kiss became more intense.

Their tongues twisted together like vines caressing each other mouth. The obscene sound of saliva mixing echoed along side his repeated tapping on her cunt.

The violent little taps send shivers down her spine until she could feel the coil in the pit of her stomach.

When she tried to turn her head away, he gripped her chin and forced his tongue deeper.

It wasn't until his fingers gazed her clit did the coil burst and she came for the second time that night.

Her heart quickened and her moans were consumed by his mouth. He took joy in feeling the vibrations of her pleasure.

As she turned limp in his arms, he molded her to his liking. He grabbed one of her hand and wrapped it around his hard cock. His hand covering her own and forced her to move along his.

Her limp hand flinching under his hold. His cock was big, hard and warm under her hand.

He bucked shamelessly in her palm and huffed in her face.

"Shit," he took their hands off, licked her palm and sucked her fingers quickly before bringing it back to his cock. The slight wetness helping him slide her hand smoothly over him.

He forced her fingers to curve until her nails traced his cock. He twitched when he felt the sensation travel down to his sack.

"Fuck, fuck, I-I can't," he dropped his head back, the muscles in his back tensing as he fell forward.

He let her hand go until he wrapped his strong arms around her and finally pressed his cock on her stomach.

All along, she felt the heat of his cock hovering over her but he didn't let it touch her until now.

He gripped her face with a hand and licked her mouth. He grinded his cock on her naked skin and whimpered.

"Ah, don't, don't," she kept whispering. Her lips dragging along the skin of his chin.

"I won't, I won't," he repeated back. Contradicting his words, he stretched her legs open, and lowered his hips until they pressed against the back of her thighs.

When they finally touched, he hugged her tightly and buried his face in her hair, breathing heavily. Their genitals pressed tightly together until he eventually moved his hips.

Humping until his cock slipped and tugged on the opening of her cunt. She whined everytime his cock dragged at her opening. When he tried to push it in, her hole tightened and his cock slapped back up and slid on her clit.

He kept doing it over and over until eventually, when she accidentally twitched, they both groaned when his cock slipped between her lips. Charlie forced down a groan as he felt a gush of wet warmth envelop his head.

She whined in his arms, the small stretch burning her untouched walls. On an instinct, Charlie mindlessly bucked his hips once and slipped in some more. His head disappearing inside of her. He only stopped when he felt resistance, even then with a nudge of his hips, he felt it break.

Which caused the woman underneath him to cry out.

He pressed light kisses on face as if he was comforting her.

"I know baby, I know," in her dazed state, his name stumbled past her swollen lips.

Charlie lazily bucked his hips as he placed himself above her, his hands on each side of her head. He started to bully his cock in, feeling her inside twist and turn as they learned his shape.

He looked down and pride surged in his chest when he watched her bleed on his cock.

"Ah there's she is, I knew she was holding out for me," he spoke to her cunt as if she was her own being. He kissed his fingertips before lightly taping her swollen clit with it.

He returned his gaze to her face and smiled proudly at her while she tried to hold in her cooes, her nails scratching at his back.

He bend down and down a nipple in his mouth. Sensually sucking and tugging her breasts until they bruised at his touch.

Gradually, as his thrusts went deeper and harder, he let his weight drop in his thrust hurling her into oblivion. He fit her perfectly, filling her completely as she mindlessly curved her back until their pelvic touched. The light pinch of his cock on her cervix had her silently scream.

He rotated his hips at the sight, a chuckle rumbling his chest.

"You are heavenly, dearest girl," his words choked her more than his cock did.

She couldn't understand what made him want her this badly, what made him go beyond despair and ruin.

Charlie forced her legs over his shoulder, before resting his arms on the bed, and under her legs to hold them. He pulled back completely before sliding back in, fucking into her sobbing cunt, cutting off her train of thoughts. She couldn't even moan probably as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. He watched her with a smile, sweat dripping down his chin and landing on her chest.

He was quick to lap it up and quickened his pace, feeling her pussy milking him more and more.

His long veiny cock disappeared into her puffy lips before coming out glistening, "Oh God," she exclaimed as Charlie's nose flared in anticipation. He started to thrust with sharp and hard pounding, letting his desires out on the girl writhing under him.

"Ick," the light noise she let out had her brow srunching, and she tightly gripped his shoulders. She tried to mouth words but his pounding wouldn't let her. Smirking, he rotated his hips, his cock lodged deep and hard while his balls hung heavy against the rim of her ass.

He kissed her forehead gently and with a tender smile, shoved her with all his weight until she suffocated under the pressure of his cock and him.

His heart thundered in his chest when she abruptly cried out again as she felt his manhood graze a particularly sensitive spot near her cervix.

When he hit it again, she violently threw her head back. He was quick to press his hand on the back of her head.

Her eyes rolled in the back of her head, a silent scream etched on her mouth. He quickened his pace, harder and faster. Every thrust was accompanied by a grunt. Sweats dripped from every pores and his muscles burned.

His eyes shone when he saw his cock get eaten by her cunt, her cream staining the bottom of his cock.

He continued hammering her on his thick rod, stuffing and piercing the curve of her walls. He pressed both their interlocked hands on the bed and began thrusting harder.

"I can't," her words were cut off as she started to squirm under his heavy weight.

She felt her pussy twitch, her walls secured around his length as his thrust grew sloppy.

Her eyes instantly opened when she let out a loud cry, Charlie propped himself up on her as she came undone.

Her release started from deep inside her womb, all the while her vagina walls snugly gripped his cock.

With barely a graze on her clit, he dragged the release out of her, her body twisted dry.

Charlie barely managed to hold his release as he held the base of his cock.

Afraid that if he let himself go, this dream will come to an end.

She was sobbing as she realized that he refused to stop. In a haste, she bit his shoulder when he changed the height of his hips. Her head was digging into his bed as he buried himself back.

He pulled away from her sticky body and held her legs up as he watched himself melt in her.

Her expression turned into a grimace as he stayed still for a moment. Her eyes focused blindly on the ceiling until they crossed, "Fuck," she dragged out the word until he finally moved.

Her mind lost every bit of reasoning, her body ripped apart and remade to his liking with a shift of his hips. She couldn't even remember her own name or who or where she was. All she could feel was him.

Her mouth stayed open as she watched him. He brought his hands to the side of her head, latching on to bed.

He watched as her soaking wet pussy took him in, her clit now red and big, begging to be touched.

Charlie spit in the middle of them, watching as it landed perfectly where his cock and her pussy connected. His saliva was fast to merge with their wetness and faded in their moist skin.

Lost in the pressure, she held his waist and curved her back until she filled any space between them.

Biting his lips, Charlie smacked his hips hard and low. Her body moving up on the bed even when she desperately tried to hold on to him.

He held his breath as he started to pick up his pace. He tried to bring her to the edge again when he slipped out due to how damp she was.

He fussed as he grabbed his drenched cock and shoved it in her smoothly.

He clutched her ankles as her whole body shopk with every pump.

When he finally touched her clit again, her chin pushed down on her chest as she looked down at herself.

Her snag walls were tightly bount to his manhood. She was afraid he would permanently be stuck in her.

With determination, Charlie pulled away, the wet friction music to his ears. He went back in with one deep penetration.

He repeated the motions until he felt her cunt tug his cock and came unexpectedly.

His suppressed orgasm coursing through his whole body. His arms and the back of his thighs trembled form the intensity of it.

His hips kept moving until he felt like he was skinned raw.

His hoarse moans echoed in the room, his head dropping back.

As she watched him become undone, she knew than, this was only his beginning.

And her end.

ACT V

Charlie was on his knees as he listened to her quietly sob. She sat on the corner of his bed, curling in on herself.

Everytime he tried to touch her, she whined as if she was in pain.

He kneeled until eventually her sobs turned to soft sniffles. He murmured her name, approaching her slowly, before carefully laying his head in her lap. She tried to flinch back but his presence remained.

He brushed his face on her warm skin, breathing her scent, keeping it in his lungs until he was forced to exhale.

He didn't say any apologies, knowing he would mean none of them, knowing she had no need for them.

Into the quiet night, he slowly grabbed her hand and forced her hand to pet his hair. She looked back at him cautiously.

She watched as he dragged her hand on his head, petting himself. Before grabbing her other one and placing it on his cheek, their fingers interwining.

Charlie let out an affectionate sigh. Even if he manipulated her hand, it remained the same, her touch was her own.

Eventually, worn out by him, she fell asleep. Tears tracks dry on her cheeks and the fresh tears clung to her lashes.

Quietly, he maneuvered her legs until they laid on his bed. He watched her with lingering eyes.

It was still for a moment, only her stable breathing and his trailing eyes alive into the night.

Slowly, he took off his rosary from the post of his bed. He brought one of her foot and placed it on his lap. He pressed gentle kisses to each toes before he carefully wrapped the rosary on her ankle. He left one final kiss on the skin above the string of beads. 

He knew this will be the only jewellery he could ever give her.

FINAL

On the first floor in the third room of the men's quarters, sat a man.

His naked back was covered with red stripes. Huffs and puffs echoed in the room, with her name occasionally slipping past his lips.

His hand was furiously beating his cock while his other hand tightened over a piece of fabric.

The sweat building up on his broad chest made his skin itch. He tried to keep his moans at bay, however one look at the red stained cloth had him cumming in seconds.

"Ah," he brought the cloth to his nose, breathing in her scent.

That day, he had carefully cut out the mark of their first consummation from his sheet. He had carefully trimmed his sheet and stitched into a small handkerchief. The red stain and their essence were still fresh.

Everytime his yearning consumed him, he would look at it, and the very few times, he let himself smell it.

Remembering her.

[sturniolo-simp4life]

Caught in the Act- Chris Sturniolo 

Paring- y/n and Chris Sturniolo 

Warnings- Smut, Masturbation, swearing, Bsf!Chris, oral sex (both receiving), some aftercare, praise kink if you really squint 

Description- y/n gets caught getting herself off, so Chris deicides to take action. 

The Triplets had left earlier this morning to film one of their videos, leaving you at their house to fend for yourself. 

It wasn’t so bad at first, you just watched movies and raided the kitchen. But of course, it got boring. You decided to go to your room. 

And there it was- Chris's T-shirt. He had left it there earlier, asking if he could pick it up when he got back. 

You couldn’t suppress the butterflies that magically appeared in your stomach. You grabbed the shirt and put it on, and it surrounds you with the scents of Chris.

You could feel your core get wet, begging for relief, as thoughts of Chris flooded your mind. 

You lay yourself on the bed, slowly pulling your shorts off, along with your panties. You huffed as the cold air hit your core.

You slipped your fingers through your folds, as you let out a soft moan. “C-Chris...” you slightly whimpered. 

You could feel your imagination run wild. You imagined his hands all over your body, exploring unexplored grounds. Just thinking about it made you want him more. 

“Fuck Chris!” you moaned out, as you slipped a finger in your aching hole. You were so into your pleasure that you didn’t even hear the door open.

You didn’t hear the footsteps coming upstairs. And you didn’t realize that the door opened. 

“Hey y/n I just came to get my shi-” he stopped mid-sentence after seeing what you were doing. And you were moaning his name.  

It took you a hot second to realize what was going on. And then you realized. Chris was in the room.

“Fuck!” you screamed as you pulled the covers over yourself. Your face was burning with embarrassment. Chris was wide-eyed. 

“Fuck y/n! I’s so sorry I just came for my shirt- I didn’t think... I thought you were reading or something.” He quickly left the room.  

What the hell just happened? 

“Shit,” you mumbled as tears stung your eyes. You stuffed your face into the pillow, and thoughts flooded your mind. 

What if Chris hates me? 

What if he doesn’t want to be friends anymore? 

What if- 

Your thoughts were interpreted with a knock. And suddenly, Chris was in your room. “Chris I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what I was doing I-”

He smashed his lips onto yours. You were shocked at first, but then you melted into the kiss. 

You moaned against his lips, giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

He grabbed your hips and slowly pushed you onto the bed. “C-Chris... what are you doing?” you asked him, a little unsure.  

“Fuck y/n, you don’t know how much I’ve wanted this.”

Hearing those words was enough to make you wet again, the familiar aching sensation brought back to your core.

He left wet sloppy kisses down your neck and collarbone, and suddenly his face was between your legs. 

“Such a pretty pussy,” he said, looking back up at you. You blush at his words, almost closing your legs. “Chris please.” He smirked and looked up at you.

“Please what? You have to use your words y/n.” “Please, touch me.” You were desperate for some kind of friction. “Since you asked so nicely.” 

He blew air right above your clit, making you shiver and clench around nothing. After a second or two, he finally dived in, slightly pulling you closer.

The feeling of his lips around your clit sent you to another dimension. Your hand made its way to his hair, griping on for dear life.

His tongue moved in circular motions gradually increasing speed. “Oh, fuck Chris,” you moaned. 

Your thighs tightened around his face, and you practically grinding on him.

“Fuck Chris you feel so good.” Your moans became more frequent, as you felt a knot build up in your stomach. 

“Oh fuck Chris. I’m gonna cum. Fuck- Chris,” you said before you orgasm on his face.

He slowed down his movements then stopped, allowing you to ride out your orgasm. 

“You taste good, Ma.” he said as his face met yours. You felt your face get red. “Shut up,” you muttered.  

You could feel something poking your leg, but you already knew what it was.

“So, Chris,” you said as you sat up. “What about you?” He looked at you. “What do you mean?”

You smirked at him. “I can literally feel you grinding against my leg Chris.” Now it was his turn to get flustered. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to pressure you into anything.” “It's fine Chris. I want to.” He nodded as he stood up.

He took of his sweats and his boxers, revealing his erection. Now you knew he was big, but damn- he was WAY bigger than expected.

You kneeled in front of him, starting with a few strokes.

You could hear his breathing increase. You licked up from the base to his tip, your mouth engulfed around him.

“F-Fuck y/n,” he moaned, his hand caressing your head. You started to move your mouth slowly, stroking whatever you couldn’t fit.

“Fuck, like that.” You could hear small moans escaping his mouth. 

You increased your speed, looking at him in his eyes as you took him. He threw his head back.

“Fuck, you're doing so good for me. I’m going to cum.” You could feel him slightly thrust into your mouth, until he released warm liquid down your throat.  

“Fuck y/n. You did so good for me.” You lazily smiled at him. Unfortunately, your back was beginning to ache, and you were tired.

He could tell. He lifted you at put you on the bed, kissing your temple. 

“I’m going to go run a hot shower, okay? When you're done, we can sleep and cuddle. That sound good?”  

You lazily nodded your head, a small smile on your face. “I love you Chris.” He smiled at you. “I love you too.” He placed another kiss on your forehead. 

requests are open!

[tomriddleslove]

can I please please please request a reverse grumpy x sunshine with theo 😭🙏🏼 i have a horrible cold rn and im pretty sure im getting a fever too and im so so close to my periods and im in some very desperate need for something nice 😭 it's totally fine if you can't or if you're busy, no pressure!

p.s. im in love with your writing! (if it wasn't obvious before)

Show a little loving.

✩ Theodore Nott x F!Reader

The one where a smitten Theodore Nott is willing to do anything and everything to see that smile of yours. It’s only a matter of time before he has to let you know - and the school mandated trip might make that a lot earlier.

A/N: This was so disgustingly cute i actually almost threw up but ig its necessary after 61 letters LOL (also @stardustsymphony ur actually amazing i hope you like it)

songs: Lovers - anna of the north

Theodore Nott had a habit of being too cheerful for his own good, especially in the mornings. You couldn’t figure out how he managed to wake up so early and still be this bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

It was unnatural.

You leaned against the Slytherin common room wall, waiting for your first class of the day, arms crossed and expression set in your usual neutral state. Your friends called it a "resting bitch face," though you insisted it was just your natural look.

Either way, no one seemed brave enough to bother you this early - except for Theo, of course.

"[name]!" His voice rang out from the entrance, and you groaned internally before turning your head to see him practically bouncing down the stairs, his dark hair flopping slightly as he moved.

“Too early for that much enthusiasm, Theo,” you muttered, but you didn’t stop the small smile that tugged at the corner of your lips. He always had that effect on you, no matter how much you tried to resist it.

Theodore didn’t seem fazed. He gave you a wide grin as he plopped down next to you on the stone bench. “It’s never too early! Have you seen outside? It’s perfect weather - I thought we could grab breakfast and maybe sit by the lake before class.”

“Not sure if I’m awake enough for all that,” you grumbled, pulling your cloak tighter around yourself. The dungeons were always too cold in the mornings. “But breakfast doesn’t sound too bad.”

“See? You’re already coming around,” he teased, his voice laced with amusement.

It was a running joke between the two of you. Theo was always the optimist, the 'sunshine' that (much to your dismay) seemed hellbent on making you smile. He was one of your closest friends, so you let him get away with it, though you wouldn’t admit how much you enjoyed his company - or how much his smile did things to your heart you didn’t entirely understand yet.

He nudged your arm gently. “I even asked Mattheo to save you a croissant for breakfast. No need to thank me, though I’ll accept compliments.”

You rolled your eyes but followed him out of the common room, the two of you falling into step as you walked through the corridors. It was easy, the way you fit together. Where you were quiet, he filled the silence with his never-ending commentary on whatever came to mind-whether it was about the latest Quidditch scores or some random thing he noticed about the castle.

Today, it was the latter.

“Have you ever noticed how that one portrait near the Great Hall looks like it’s giving people side-eye? I feel rather judged every time I walk by.” he rambled, feigning hurt as he places a hand on his chest.

You snorted, unable to help the laugh that bubbled up. “No, but now I’m definitely going to look for it.”

“See? I’m expanding your horizons,” he said with a satisfied grin.

You shot him a sideways glance. “Yeah, yeah. Keep talking and you’ll lose your seat.”

He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the edges in that way that always made your stomach flip. “You’d miss me if I wasn’t there.”

You didn’t respond right away, but he wasn’t wrong.

You didn’t know how to describe the way your friendship with Theo felt like it was standing on the edge of something bigger, something neither of you had quite dared to name.

And maybe you weren’t ready for it just yet. But when he sat down beside you, close enough that your knees brushed under the table, you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it too.

Theodore hummed contentedly as he reached for the little pot of sugar, dumping three heaped teaspoons into his coffee like it was perfectly normal behaviour. The steam rose lazily from the cup, and he stirred it absentmindedly, flashing you that familiar, easy-going smile.

“Have you packed for the astronomy trip tomorrow?” he asked casually, as though he hadn’t just committed a serious coffee crime right in front of you. “Apparently Tromsø is absolutely piss cold at this time of year. Draco was telling me.”

“I’ll help you pack later. Just so you don’t forget something important. Like, I don’t know, an extra jumper for me.”

You shot him a glare. “Sure, Theodore. I’ll just pack your entire wardrobe while I’m at it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of asking,” he replied, grinning again. “Just the scarf, though. You know, my lucky one.”

You snorted. “That hideous green one? Absolutely not.”

“Blasphemy,” he said dramatically, clutching his chest. “You wound me, [name].”

“Good,” You deadpan, turning to look at him.

You raised an eyebrow, eyeing him with something between disbelief and amusement. “God, Theodore-” you chided, pointing at his cup with disgust, “is that not just sugar with a side of coffee?”

"Well someone needs to make up for the clear joy discrepancy in this friendship." He defended, taking a long sip as if to punctuate his point.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smirk creeping onto your face. “Right, because your never-ending cheerfulness is the only thing keeping us all from a dark, miserable existence.”

“Exactly!” he declared, entirely too pleased with himself. “I’m performing a public service, really. One smile at a time.”

There was something ridiculously charming about how he just… didn’t care. Theodore was all lightness and laughter, one could argue too much so for a Slytherin.

“I wouldn’t need to drink quite so much sugar if you’d stop glaring at me like I’ve just murdered a puppy.” he teased, bumping your knee lightly under the table. “Honestly, one of these days I’m going to get you to smile before 10 a.m. Just you wait.”

You scoffed, but the warmth in his tone made it impossible to stay annoyed. “You’d have better luck with a Patronus charm.”

"There's a reason why I'm top of the DADA class" Theodore shot back with a cocky grin.

Despite yourself, you felt the corners of your mouth twitching upward, and before you could stop it, a smile crept across your face. Quickly, you took a sip of your coffee to cover it up, but Theodore noticed.

If you saw the way he looked at you, you'd know he was in love then and there. The way he almost melted into your expression, eyebrows almost furrowing as he looks over at you. Just as he opened his mouth, ready to say something - something he wasn’t even sure he was ready to admit to himself- Pansy’s voice cut through the quiet.

“Well, if it isn’t day and night sitting over here,” she chimed, plopping down next to you with a knowing smirk.

“Merlin’s sake, Theo. You’re going to give yourself diabetes.” Pansy’s voice broke through, dry and unimpressed as ever.

“I reckon the sugar’s the only thing keeping him tolerable,” Mattheo said, slouching into his chair and eyeing Theodore’s cup with disdain. “Otherwise, we'd have to listen to him drone on about defensive spells without end.”

You snorted into your coffee before you could help it, the sound surprising you. You couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up, covering your mouth as you shoot Mattheo a glare that was only half-serious. It was loud - unfiltered and genuine, and when you glanced up, you found Theodore staring at you with that easy smile, his eyes warm and a little too soft. Even with Mattheo’s jab at his expense, Theodore couldn’t bring himself to be mad, not when the sound of your laughter was still ringing in his ears.

“Right, like I’d ever come to you for life advice, Mattheo,” Theodore muttered, finally tearing his gaze away from you, though his grin lingered.

Mattheo shrugged lazily. “Probably shouldn't. I’m a terrible influence."

You let the three of them fall into conversation as you zone out, sipping on your coffee. Their chatter faded into the background as your mind wandered, focusing instead on the upcoming trip. The Astronomy class’s trip to Tromsø was all anyone could talk about lately.

And as the pessimist you were, all you could focus on was how damn cold it was going to be.

--

You were right.

It was cold - too damn cold.

As soon as the group stepped off the train in Tromsø, the icy wind cut through your layers like they were made of parchment. You pulled your scarf tighter around your neck, teeth chattering despite the heavy coat you wore.

"Bloody hell," you muttered under your breath, glancing around at your classmates as they all shivered in the bitter chill. "Why did I think this was a good idea?"

"Because it’s Norway, and we’re going to see the Northern Lights," Pansy answered with a 'that's so obvious' tone, bundling herself up in a fur-lined coat that looked like it cost more than your entire wardrobe.

You shot her a look. “I don’t care if we’re going to see dragons dancing in the sky. It’s fucking freezing.”

Pansy only rolled her eyes, linking arms with Lorenzo as they trudged ahead through the snow-covered streets. The rest of your group followed suit- Draco, Mattheo, Blaise, and, of course, Theodore- who was surprisingly unfazed by the weather, despite the hideous green scarf he insisted on wearing.

By the time you arrived at the lodge where you were all staying, your fingers were numb and your patience thin. The lodge was quaint, wooden, and cosily tucked away at the edge of the forest, the surrounding snow-capped trees giving it a 'hallmark christmas' charm.

You all shuffled into the common room, where the housekeeper with a rather large bushy moustache greeted you with thick blankets and far too much enthusiasm for someone who lived in such a cold climate. Everyone split off to their rooms, getting settled before heading out for the evening’s stargazing expedition - one you had organised amongst yourselves. You were sharing a room with Pansy, while Theodore was bunking with Blaise.

Once you'd unpacked, you met the group downstairs again. The fire crackled in the hearth as the others talked about what to do before heading out for the night.

Theodore appeared by your side, leaning casually against the arm of the sofa you were sitting on. "So," he started, that familiar grin tugging at his lips, "what do you want to do?"

You frowned at him in confusion. "Why are you asking me?"

"Because I want to do whatever you want to do," he replied simply, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. "I don't care. I'll just go along with whatever everyone else is doing."

But Theodore wasn’t having it. "You always say that. C’mon, humor me."

Before you could argue, Mattheo walked past and clapped Theodore on the shoulder. "Come on, Nott, stop making her overthink. Let’s go grab some snacks and freeze our asses off while we wait for the lights," he said, and with that, the group started bundling up again, ready to head out into the freezing night.

--

The sky above was almost too perfect - as though it had been plucked straight from a postcard. It almost compensated for the bone numbing chill, the sight of string-light lit stalls far too pretty to make you feel grumpy.

For a while, though.

You trudged along beside Theodore, bundled in so many layers that it felt like your entire body had been wrapped in blankets. The long puffer jacket you wore reached nearly to your knees, and your scarf-wrapped around your neck at least three times-barely left room for your face to peek through. You couldn't help but grumble to yourself, tugging at the edge of your gloves to make sure no skin was exposed to the biting cold.

Theodore, of course, noticed immediately.

"Merlin's beard, you're waddling," he teased. "If you added another layer, you might not be able to walk at all."

You shot him a glare from under your knitted hat. "I'd rather waddle than freeze to death."

He chuckled, eyes flicking over your bundled-up form with an almost too-pleased look on his face. "I don’t know, it’s kind of cute. You look like a disgruntled penguin."

You snorted, half-annoyed, half-amused. "Glad you're entertained."

"Come on," he coaxed, nudging your arm lightly, "I bet under all those layers, you're secretly enjoying this. You’re just too stubborn to admit it."

"Enjoying this?" you asked incredulously, gesturing to the freezing air and the snow-covered ground beneath your feet. "I’m wearing half my wardrobe just to avoid becoming an icicle."

Theodore shrugged, his easy grin never faltering. "Still cute, though."

"You're insufferable, Nott," you muttered, scowling as you slap his arm.

He grinned wider, clearly pleased with himself for pulling that almost-smile out of you.

"Oi! We're gonna go see if we can get some hot chocolate and blankets before we set up for the evening, You guys just guard our spot before someone else grabs it." Blaise yells from a short distance, and Theodore nods as you groan. You wanted to be in the cosy warm lodge - not out here on an isolated ledge in the middle of god-knows where whist your friend traipse around the quaint markets.

You look up, momentarily stunned as the half sarcastic curses that were about to escape your mouth dry out on your tongue. Ripples of greens and blue entwine, seamlessly dancing through the dark that otherwise shrouded the night-sky. It wasn't magic, only charged particles from the sun colliding with gases in Earth's atmosphere, causing them to emit light in vibrant colors, typically seen near the polar regions (courtesy of muggle book you had read on the journey here) but it was nonetheless enchanting.

Surprisingly, your voice broke the silence. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Theodore nodded, eyes fixed on you. “Yeah… it really is.”

There was a brief silence, and when you glanced over, you found Theodore watching you instead of the sky, his expression soft.

“What?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged, still smiling. “Nothing. Just trying to figure out how to make you smile.”

You huffed, turning your gaze back to the sky. “Why do you care so much?”

“Because I like seeing it,” he said simply, his voice so sincere it made your stomach flip.

You didn’t respond, the weight of his words lingering in the cold air between you. After a moment, he sighed dramatically, throwing his hands up in mock defeat. “I’ll have to try harder, then.”

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, though your tone was more fond than irritated now.

He chuckled, his laugh low and warm. “And you’re stubborn.”

You turned to chastise him, ready with another quip, but the words faltered when you looked up at him. The moonlight caught his features- soft shadows dancing across his sharp jawline, his eyes gleaming with that look that you had seen far too often these past few weeks. His scarf, that hideous green thing, was crooked as always, the ends flapping slightly in the breeze.

Your hands moved instinctively, reaching up to fix it. "This scarf..." you started, your voice trailing off as you focused on straightening it.

Theodore’s gaze never faltered as he watched you, his eyes tracing every detail of your face as if committing it to memory. "You know, I’m not sure if you actually hate the scarf or if it’s just an excuse to keep touching me."

You scowled, though the heat rising in your cheeks betrayed you. “Don’t flatter yourself,” you mumbled, but even you could hear the wavering in your voice.

His smile widened, but he didn’t say anything more, just stood there.

Before you knew what you were doing, you tugged him closer by the scarf, pulling him toward you. "This hideous scarf of yours," you muttered under your breath, using it as a flimsy excuse to hide the fact that you were really just closing the gap between you.

Theodore’s eyes flickered down to your lips, his breath fogging in the cold air between you. And then, without another word, you closed the distance.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, like both of you were testing the waters. But the second his lips moved against yours, something inside you shifted. It was slow, unhurried, his hands gently cradling your face as if he had all the time in the world. The cold air disappeared entirely, replaced by the warmth of his touch, his closeness, and the feeling of him - consuming you.

When you finally pulled back, both of you breathless, Theodore’s eyes were still on you, that stupid smile of his making your knees weak.

"You didn’t even fix the scarf," he whispered, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

You rolled your eyes, still trying to catch your breath, but you couldn’t fight the grin that broke through. "Shut up."

But Theodore only laughed, leaning in again to steal another kiss.

Your gloved hands came up, fisting the thick wool of his jacket as you-

“Finally!” Pansy’s dry tone rang out, followed by the sound of scattered applause.

You and Theodore broke apart, startled, only to find the rest of your group approaching, grinning like idiots.

“What the-?” you began, but Blaise interrupted, holding up a handful of galleons.

“We made a bet on how long it’d take for you two to finally snog," he said with a grin, pocketing the winnings. "I was getting worried."

Your face burned, and your grumpy demeanor returned in full force as you glared at them all. "I hate every single one of you."

But before you could storm off, Theodore just chuckled, pulling you into his side with a warmth that made it hard to stay annoyed. "Don’t worry," he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head, "they’re just jealous."

Grumbling under your breath, you leaned into him as the group settled down.

Perhaps it wasn't all too bad.

[cas-writes-stuff-ig]

Cheering Her Up

f!/nb! reader x regina george (you love to make Regina feel better)

She calls you "duck" (ITS FUNNY/CUTE I PROMISE)

closeted bi Regina, and openly enby/lesbian reader

reader binds their chest with transtape/kt tape

secret relationship

cheering her up

Regina is taller than you

CONTENT: SO SO SO SORRY I KNOW IM WEIRD

Word Count: 1853

(Originally supposed to be a one shot)

kind of alludes to sex but not explicitly

Regina lets you write your own diss in her Burn Book, so Gretchen and Karen don't get suspicious as to why you're not in it. (a bit of transphobia and homophobia, t-slur/d-slur)

Past bullying and some self-deprication

Reader is a weirdo but Regina likes it

Reader likes classic rock and old hits, Regina pretends to despise it

She lashes out at you but its all good in the end :)

Reader likes to sing

Part 2 of Cheering Her Up (A Party)

a/n: this is a huge self-insert for me, I was really vibing to Bob Seger earlier (btw this is the second thing ive written in like 5 years spare me)

ALSO feel free to message or comment any feedback is appreciated 🙏

——————————————————————————————

Before the sophomore year, you were sure Regina totally despised you. She openly criticized any gay person she came across. Sophomore year, you were seated next to her in math and history, and you felt like you were going to be destroyed.

But when you came over to her house for a project, she asked "You have your first kiss yet?"

It caught you off guard. "Uh, no. Why?" your voice squeaked, although you knew she was a bitch. You were attracted to her.

She got close to your face and smirked, you could feel her breath on yours. "No reason," She grabbed the back of your head and kissed you. You didn't kiss back out of shock and Regina pulled away and went red, she opened her mouth to say something to excuse her actions, but you leaned in and kissed her again. That moment opened a whole new door for both of you.

After that, you and Regina got really close. Outside of the school halls, and in the comfort of Regina's mansion, you were secretly her best friend but also her friend with benefits. She isn't out yet either, she still has too much pride to be seen with a loser, but you don't mind waiting for her.

She was slightly nicer to you than others at school. She was actually pretty kind to you behind closed doors. She cared about you even if she never said it out loud. So about a month after you started hooking up, you were at her house and she handed you her Burn Book which was open to a blank page with only your picture on it. "I don't want Karen and Gretchen to get suspicious as to why you're not in it."

You could deal with the insults and the taunts, it never bothered you that much, so you wrote something that used to bother you 'Y/N L/N is a tranny dyke'.

The thing that did get to you was in 8th grade when you confessed to a girl, and she told everyone in your PE class that you watched girls change in the locker room. Everyone shunned you after that, but you grew thick skin. In freshman year you found your place amongst the loners and the nerds. You were content with it.

"Are you sure you want that in there?" Regina asked, what you wrote about yourself was harsh.

You nodded "Regina, I'm out of the closet already. It's a secret everybody already knows" You closed the book and handed it back to Regina and she tucked it away. "If I walk like a duck, swim like a duck, and quack like a duck, I'm probably a duck" She laughed at your joke, and you corrected yourself smiling "I mean dyke"

"You're so stupid" Regina replied, but it wasn't mean or full of scorn, she just shoved your shoulder. She changed your name to "Duck" in her contacts.

A week later you found out what your contact name was, you laughed at her a little and she got defensive "I'll change it then" and you quickly stopped laughing and took her phone.

"No no, keep it, please Regina it's cute" You yanked her phone out of her hand and tried to keep it away from her. You laughed again and ran around her room holding her phone, but she cornered you, pushing your chest, then your back hit the wall. You were breathless from running and grinned, though her face was stern. "I'm sorry, Gina. Please keep it, it's fine really"

The look on her face made you lose your confidence and you backed down, and handed her phone back, "Thanks loser" She tucked it back in her pocket, and she had a smug smile. "You're lucky I'm in a forgiving mood today" and tilted your chin up and kissed your lips.

After that day, it became one of your inside jokes, and "Duck" became one of your nicknames.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

That summer she invited you over to swim at her pool for the first time. "Hey loser, hurry up" she opened the door and led you to her pool.

You brought your only swim trunks and taped your breasts back to go swimming. She was in a tight bikini and she slipped in the pool, you took your shirt off, and she was staring at your body.

You weren't sporty, but you went to the gym, it's not like you had rock-hard abs, but you were toned and Regina hadn't seen you like that in the sunlight before, you beamed as you basked in the warm sun.

"Hey Duck, get in here" she beckoned you, you seized an opportunity to make a joke.

You bent your knees and flapped your arms a little walking back and forth at the edge of the pool "Quack quack" You giggled out. Regina cracked out a smile that evolved into laughter, her laugh warmed you more than the sunlight.

When you slipped into the pool, she was still laughing at you. "You're such a dumbass"

She splashed water at you when you tried to come and hug her in the pool. "Hey!" you yelped as the water got in your face and you splashed back.

After you just relaxed in the pool, you floated on your back, eyes closed, and sun-kissed skin. You didn't notice how Regina looked at you, but you heard water swish as she walked toward your floating body. You cracked an eye open, the sun was behind her making her look ethereal. Regina's blonde hair glowed, she looked like an angel, not the bitchy Queen Bee at school.

"Hey," you tried opening your eyes but just squinted.

She leaned down and said "Hey" back in her sweet voice and kissed you gently.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

The summer pushed you closer together, of course, she had her fair share of parties she went to with the Plastics. You were there at parties too, but you both only shot each other glances. The days she hung out with the Plastics, you missed her company.

You got your license over the summer and when you got the message that she was back home, you hopped in your Mini Cooper and drove to her house and picked her up. Though she usually drove you around in her Jeep.

"Where we heading today?" you asked as she hopped in the car

She ignored your question and her attention was on your music "Earth, Wind & Fire's 'September'? Really?" she criticized your music taste.

She buckled in and you said, "What's wrong with my music taste Regina?"

"God you really are a loser" she insulted, you could tell she was in a mood today. You were a little hurt but tried not to take it personally. "7-11 can you grab me a Diet Coke?" you nodded and started driving.

You skipped to the next song and what played was Bee Gee's "More Than A Woman" You smiled and sang along to it. Hoping Regina would get the hint you were singing it to her.

"Suddenly you're in my life, A part of everything I do. You got me workin' day and night. Just tryin' to keep a hold on you..." Your fingers tapped against the steering wheel and you moved your shoulders to the beat of the song.

She just groaned and pressed her temples, you thought she really hated it but from the corner of your eye, you saw a corner of her lip lift slightly. After seeing that you sang your heart out a little more at a red light you turned to her momentarily "More than a woman. More than a woman to me" and grinned wide.

"Hey! Keep your eyes on the road!" she pushed your head to look back at the road.

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At school when Junior year started, Regina and you acted like you two were nothing, you both devised a facade as to why you interacted at all. It was a half-truth, everyone at school thought Regina paid y/n to do their math homework. But you only did that sometimes, and usually just helped her.

Today when you met at her house she was upset about something. "Regina, what's wrong?" you asked worriedly.

"Nothing, stay out of it" she snapped at you and she stomped up the stairs to her room.

You followed her "Regina come on," she turned on her heel and looked at you angrily and lashed out.

"Why are you even here? You're not dating me, stop acting like it" She yelled at you.

You paused and your heart faltered "Regina..." you said quietly. She turned back around and she slammed her bedroom door. Regina crawled in the sheets and just went to sleep. You didn't follow her in. But you walked downstairs to her kitchen and opened her fridge.

When Regina woke up she smelled some kind of pastry downstairs and light music. She opened her door and crept down the stairs, as she approached the kitchen, she heard your humming.

The next song started to play, your back was turned and you were using her mom's apron and mittens, pulling out a batch of brownies from the oven. When you sang alone, you were cheesier and poured your heart into each song, then you placed the brownies onto a cooling rack on the island counter and pretended to hold a mic.

"Still like that old-time rock and roll. That kind of music just soothes the soul" You closed your eyes and turned around still pretending to hold a microphone "I reminisce about the days of old, with that old-time rock and roll" Regina just smiled stifling laughter.

But when you started playing air guitar, at the part with no lyrics. You heard her giggle and your eyes shot open, face reddening "Regina! You're up!" she just laughed at your incredible dorkiness and walked up to you, this was the highlight of her day.

You brushed off your embarrassment from getting caught when you saw how happy it made her. And you walked closer to her and continued to mouth the song and dance around her. Still wearing her mom's frilly apron. You took her hand and spun her around and she still laughed at your silliness.

You stopped and walked back to the counter where she followed, "Brownies?" you smiled.

"Yeah, sure" She sat down at the table and you cut two pieces out.

When you handed her a plate, she looked up at you and spoke softly "Sorry about earlier..."

You smiled softly and took her hand as you sat next to her "Its okay, don't worry about it" You let go of her hand and then asked, "You feeling better now?"

"Yeah, thanks duck" She leaned towards you and kissed your lips. "You're so fucking corny" Regina pulled away.

You smirked "You secretly love it"

"I do" She responded, you almost choked on your own spit at her admission. She reveled in your panic and took a bite of the brownie you made her.

Only you could make her smile like this, and laugh like this, you knew that, and you had your silent victory.

Part 2 of Cheering Her Up (A Party)

[bell4lan]

Friends

Genre: Smut

DNI: NON-MLM/NBLM, fujoshis, mlm/nblm fetishizers, trans fetishizers

CW: words like pussy, cunt, folds, hole, t-dick, and dick are used to describe privates, masturbating in front of each other, fingering, overstim (?), mentions of blood but its not a lot, biting, hickies, cunnilingus, after care hell yeah, ignore any errors pls i dont feel like rereading this again

Character(s)/Reader: Top Trans Male Reader x Bottom Trans Male Scaramouche

'How the fuck did I get to this moment?'

That was all you could think as your best friend was sitting on your lap making out with you while your hand was down his pants, teasing and rubbing his t-dick.

One moment you guys were arguing over which youtuber to watch for the night. The next you guys are kissing and grinding on each other, which led to you feeling up and playing with Scara's needy cunt. Your fingers slid up and down his wet folds before making direct contact with his dick, making him twitch every time.

After a few minutes of teasing, you moved your hands to his waistband and pulled off his pajama pants and underwear. His pussy was practically dripping onto your bottoms, so wet and sensitive. He looked delicious. Your hand moved back down to his soaked cunt and, slowly, you slid a finger inside of him.

"Fucking finally." He breathed out as you entered him. You couldn't help but chuckle at the sass he still had even while being touched so intimately. You slid your finger in and out before pushing in another one, making Scara moan at how full he felt. His fingers definitely didn't fill him this much, but yours were perfect. They hit the right spot as they thrusted at just the right speed. He wished you guys had done this sooner.

"You gonna cum baby?" You whispered as he got even whinier. He nodded quickly as he rested his head on your shoulder. Just as he came, he bit hard into your shoulder. Barely enough to draw blood, but enough to leave a bruise. You didn't mind though. It was kind of hot knowing he basically marked you.

You pulled your fingers out so Scara could sit properly and calm down. Your bottoms were covered in his cum and juices, as were his thighs. You held him close and ran your clean fingers through his hair until finally, he was calm. You still weren't done though. One orgasm out of him didn't satisfy you.

"Can I eat you out?" You asked as you rubbed his back. Scara sat up straight so he could look you in the eyes.

"Wh- I just came." He said.

"I want to make you cum again." Scara couldn't control the butterflies that erupted in his stomach from your words.

"Don't you want to cum too?" He asked. You shook your head.

"I'm okay with just making you feel good. That's enough to get me off." You explained. Scara just nodded before laying down on his back and parting his legs. You sat in front of him and moved your hands to the sweater you lent him, bunching it up right under his chest so his stomach is exposed. You kissed down his stomach and sides, nipping and sucking at random areas so he was marked.

Eventually, you made it down to his dripping cunt. It was even prettier up close. You just wanted to devour him. You flicked your tongue across his t-dick, making him flinch. He was so sensitive from orgasming before, this was going to be fun. You moved your tongue down to his hole and licked up to his dick, continuing this movement so you could lap up all of the cum from earlier. He tasted divine. You could stay between his legs for hours just tasting him, making him cum over and over so you could get more of him on your tongue.

Scara's hands moved to grip your hair as you licked at him, pulling it whenever you swirled your tongue on his t-dick. It was embarrassing how loud you were making him just from your tongue. He wanted to hold back his moans, but you felt too fucking good. Hearing himself whimper and whine made him feel so powerless, so submissive. It was weird, but he enjoyed it.

"Shit (Name) i-i'm cl-close." Scara warned as he gripped your hair tighter. You moved your lips up to his dick and sucked on it, making Scara let out the cutest moan. He bucked his hips into your mouth as you kept sucking him until finally, he came. Scara pulled at your hair the hardest he did all night as he came on your face, his whole body trembling from how intense it was.

You pulled your lips off of him and quickly got a towel so you could clean up. There was no saving your sheets, but you didn't care. You carefully cleaned up Scara as he was recovering from his orgasm, and got him some new bottoms to put on.

Scara fell asleep in your arms after you finished cleaning up. You watched your tv on low volume as he snuggled against you. You didn't know what you guys were now, or if anything would change at all. You were just happy you got to experience it. You had been wanting it for a while after all.

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Yay! New story! I finally gathered the motivation to create this, so I hope you guys enjoy! I'll try my hardest to write more stories again, but my life has been quite hectic lately, so I can't promise i'll fully return yet! I am definitely not abandoning this account though :)