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delulustateofmind · 1 month ago

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This is Love, Right?

Part two of Can My Friend Join?

Next part: It's all your fault, isn't it?

Yan!SatoSugu x Reader

Sum: You're starting to grow used to Suguru, maybe evening learning to accept his love.

TW: Yandere Behaviors (Cameras, Obsession, Manipulation, trapping), Really toxic relationship, dubcon, oral (F and M receiving), Brief smut, Reader is going through it. SatoSugu (Just a warning in itself), Angst

WC: 4.7k

A/n: Listened to a random Mitski playlist and it lowkey made me depressed while writing this, expect some fluff after this one.

This is love.

You keep telling yourself that, don’t you?

Even as silent tears streak down your cheeks in the furthest bathroom—the one tucked away from the master bedroom, the one even Satoru’s Six Eyes can’t reach.

This is love.

The way Satoru leans down, his snowy white hair falling across his forehead in that effortlessly tousled way, pressing a fleeting kiss to your lips before heading out on a mission. His crystalline blue eyes, so striking they feel otherworldly, linger on you for a moment too long before he straightens up, a lopsided grin pulling at his lips. Suguru follows, his dark hair tied neatly back, though loose strands frame his sharp, beautiful face. He gives you a casual wave, the corners of his mouth lifting into a faint, teasing smile as he murmurs, “I love you.”

You’ve never seen Satoru happier than he’s been since Suguru joined your relationship. Happier than back when it was just the two of you, curled up on the couch, his long legs stretched across the cushions while you laughed at some cheesy anime. Back then, his laugh was unrestrained, carefree. The way his shoulders would shake, his hand coming up to push his blindfold up and wipe away a tear—it felt real.

You miss those days.

You didn’t cry as much back then.

But they love you, don’t they?

They still pay your tuition, still ensure your life is cushioned and cared for. Suguru, always measured and composed, suggested once, “Maybe you should switch to online classes.” His voice was soft, his tone coaxing. It made sense, didn’t it? His reasoning was sound: “There was a special grade curse at the school the other day. We just worry about you, baby.”

Suguru always seems so calm, his velvety voice soothing and warm yet guarded dark eyes giving him an air of quiet authority. You begin to find comfort in that. However, the weight of his presence feels heavy, suffocating even some days.

Satoru, on the other hand, radiates energy. His presence fills the room like sunlight—blinding, inescapable. His tall, lanky frame always seems so relaxed, but you know better. Behind the teasing lilt of his voice and his constant grin lies a man who rarely lets his guard down. The way he looms, leaning just a little too close, reminds you of the distance he refuses to let exist between the two of you.

They worry about you so much. Yet whenever you voice concern for them, they hush you. Suguru’s deep voice reassures you, as if he’s talking to a child, while Satoru’s lips curl into a too-bright smile, his hand patting your head like you’re something fragile.

They love you. They take care of you. It would be selfish to leave them, wouldn’t it?

And Satoru—he’s never been this happy.

He’s working less, smiling more. Suguru’s return has lifted a weight off his shoulders. He’s not carrying the burden of being the strongest alone anymore. You can see it in the way his smile softens when Suguru speaks, in the way his gaze lingers on him longer than it ever lingers on you.

And yet, you tell yourself:

This is love.

Still, you wonder… wasn’t Suguru supposed to be going to therapy? You think back to his promises—vague, half-hearted reassurances—but did he ever actually leave for a session? Ever join a voice call?

You don’t recall.

You try to push the thought away, like so many others. Ignore the red flags. Focus on the green.

The relationship has its moments. You’re growing used to Suguru.

Especially your drunk self—the one that gravitates toward him, curling up on his lap like a loyal dog, seeking out his touch and the warmth of his arms. He always accepts you, his large hands stroking your back or brushing through your hair with a tenderness that feels almost too loving, almost cruel. You wonder what side of yourself that is, the part that craves his affection so desperately, the part that lets the lines blur between love and dependency.

You might even say you’re learning to love him—or at least the version of him that exists in the quiet of the night. The version that pulls you close under the weight of darkness, his voice low and unguarded as he whispers, “I love you.”

It’s in those moments that he feels human, almost fragile. A man with calloused hands and a broken heart trying to mend himself through you.

And it’s hard not to wonder—are you really learning to love him, or are you simply surrendering to the inevitability of it all?

Satoru, though… he never used to cuddle at night. Even before Suguru entered the picture, he always sprawled out in his ridiculously expensive sheets, claiming restlessness from the constant hum of his cursed energy. He needed the space, he said, and you told yourself he deserved it.

Suguru, however—Suguru surprised you.

At first glance, he didn’t seem the type for soft affections, but you quickly learned otherwise. Every night, his arms would find their way around you, wrapping you in a firm but gentle embrace. His warmth seeped into you, grounding and comforting, as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck. His lips would brush your skin with soft kisses, a tenderness you hadn’t expected from him.

Sometimes, his deep voice would murmur, “Sorry we came home so late,” heavy with sincerity. Other times, his words were more vulnerable, whispered just above a breath: “I love you,” spoken in the dark when he thought you were asleep.

It’s hard not to love him in those moments. Hard not to feel your resolve slip as his presence surrounds you. His breath fans against your neck, steady and warm. His rhythmic breathing eventually syncs with yours, as if his body is learning the cadence of your every inhale and exhale.

For those fleeting moments, you almost forget the cracks beneath the surface.

Other good moments were the intimate ones, the kind that left no room for doubt about how thoroughly they possessed you.

Suguru’s lips would meet yours in slow, deliberate kisses, his touch soft and coaxing, as Satoru’s tongue worked between your legs. The wet, obscene sounds filled the room, clouding your vision and overwhelming your senses. Satoru’s tongue moved with precision, his mouth relentless as he lapped at your cunt, delving deep until your mind felt as hazy as your breathless moans.

Suguru’s fingers never faltered, rubbing tight circles around your clit in perfect rhythm with Satoru’s ministrations. Their combined efforts dragged you over the edge again and again, your body trembling and giving in to the relentless waves of pleasure.

It became impossible to think of anything else—impossible to care about anything other than the bliss they brought you. Their hardened cocks stretched you beyond your limits, filling you completely, their stamina nearly too much for your quivering form.

Suguru would cradle your face in his hands, his dark eyes soft yet intense as he cooed sweet nothings. He’d murmur praises, soothing and possessive, as Satoru pressed the tip of his cock into your overstimulated, leaking cunt. The stretch made you gasp—a sound Suguru captured with his lips, his kiss slow, methodical, leaving you no room to shy away.

Satoru’s hands gripped your hips harshly, his long fingers digging into your flesh, ensuring you stayed exactly where he wanted you. You could already tell the marks would bloom into bruises by morning, a physical reminder of their claim. Suguru, ever attentive, would turn your face gently toward the camera, his voice a low murmur against your lips. “You’re such a good girl,” he’d praise, his thumb brushing your cheek before pulling you into another kiss.

When they were finally spent, when your body gave out completely, Suguru always carried you to the bath. His embrace was steady, grounding, as the warm water soothed your trembling form. You’d lean against his chest, your body limp, lulled by the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing.

Sometimes, Satoru would join, his tall frame slipping into the water beside you. Their voices would soften as they spoke over you, discussing mundane things or recounting their mission. Occasionally, a kiss would press against your temple—a fleeting gesture, tender and claiming all at once—as you drifted in and out of sleep.

For a little while, it felt like you belonged.

And then, when he thinks you’re asleep, Satoru murmurs, “I knew you’d come around.”

You’re never sure who he’s talking to—Suguru, the man who swore to eradicate non-sorcerers? Or you, the girl who’s finally learning to love the monster who holds her at night?

It’s in these moments that you find yourself slipping out of bed, mumbling an excuse to use the bathroom. Suguru always lets you go with a teasing “Come back fast, or I’ll come get you.” You never linger long enough to see if he’s joking.

Once inside the furthest bathroom, the one that feels like your only sanctuary, you clutch the edge of the sink and sob. Quietly, so no one hears. Until your knees give out and you’re on the floor, shaking and clutching yourself.

This is love. Right?

They loved you. So why were you crying in the bathroom?

Why did each love bite feel like a brand, etched into your skin with every lingering gaze in the mirror? Why did their cum, warm as it seeped down your thighs, burn like it was searing itself into you, a mark you couldn’t erase? Why did the blank, soulless stare of the camera lens feel like an accusation, making you flinch away from any piece of technology?

Before too long, you would wipe your tears, force a smile to your lips—steadying it just enough so it wouldn’t wobble—and return to Suguru’s waiting arms. His hum would vibrate against your back as his dark hair tickled your neck. He’d cradle you close, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

“Goodnight, baby,” he’d murmur, and you’d close your eyes, pretending his embrace felt like comfort instead of confinement.

But mornings brought their own discomforts.

You found yourself rifling through the master bathroom, searching the countertop with rising panic. Where is it? The nagging thought ate at you.

Satoru, brushing his teeth beside you, glanced over with those striking blue eyes. His tone was soft, almost too casual. “What’s up, baby?”

“I can’t find my birth control,” you admitted, the words trembling as much as your hands.

“Did you misplace it? You’ve been doing that a lot lately.” He walked over, his long arms wrapping around your waist. A kiss brushed the top of your head, his voice gentle but firm. “Go ask Sugu. He’s the one who organizes everything.”

So you did. Suguru was at the desk in the living room, working through a report. From over his shoulder, you could see the numbers—charge rates, payments for missions—enough to know your schooling costs barely amounted to a fraction of what they earned in a single week.

“Your birth control?” he repeated absentmindedly, his tone light, almost dismissive. “You’ve been misplacing that a lot, haven’t you, baby?”

His words felt condescending, like you were a child searching for a lost toy.

“Where is it?” you asked, voice still soft but with a growing edge of desperation. You were five minutes late—exactly.

“Ah-ah, no need for that tone, baby,” he chided, his eyes still glued to his paperwork. “Check the kitchen counter. Your purse? Maybe your school bag.”

It took thirty agonizing minutes of searching, panic simmering under your skin, before you found it—perched on top of the fridge.

You stared at it for a moment, unmoving. You would have never put it there.

Suguru’s behavior had become harder to ignore. There were moments when his touch lingered, his eyes softened, and his voice carried a wistful tone. He had baby fever—you could tell. Maybe it was tied to the twins he lost.

You’d asked him about them once. His face shuttered, dark and unreadable, and he didn’t respond.

You tried asking Satoru, but he had simply glanced away, his usual bravado vanishing for a moment too long.

You decided not to ask again.

Some questions weren’t meant to be answered. You had a sinking feeling the truth lay buried somewhere with the higher-ups, in a place you weren’t allowed to tread.

Suguru’s baby fever didn’t fade, no matter how much you tried to ignore it.

When the three of you went to the store, you’d catch that soft smile tugging at his lips whenever he saw a child. It wasn’t the type of smile he gave just anyone—it was warm, tender, hopeful. And it was always followed by a kiss pressed to your temple. A gesture you used to pull away from, but now, you found yourself smiling through.

Sometimes, he’d suggest wandering into the baby section, his tone casual, almost playful. “Just in case. Want to see what’s out there.”

The words always made your skin crawl.

Because no matter how innocuous they sounded, your mind couldn’t help but spiral. It always went back to the hidden birth control, the misplaced pills, and the monthly pregnancy tests he insisted on. He’d stand there, watching you pee on the stick, his arms crossed but his expression almost serene—waiting, anticipating. He wanted to know right away.

You tried to shove those thoughts into the furthest corner of your mind. Tried to convince yourself it was all harmless.

Satoru, by contrast, didn’t seem to care much for babies. He never lingered in the baby aisle and rarely commented on Suguru’s behavior. But he’d hum softly, his hand clasping yours, and flash you a loving smile.

You liked to think that as long as everyone else was happy, Satoru was happy.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

Occasionally, when they left for long missions, the apartment felt suffocating in its emptiness. You’d pad softly through the vast, cold space, the silence amplifying every creak of the floorboards beneath your feet.

Your eyes darted around, searching for the hidden cameras you knew were there. You weren’t sure where they all were, or when they liked to check the footage, but you’d found one blind spot: the hallway closet.

You moved slowly, deliberately, ensuring you didn’t do anything that might raise suspicion. Even though you were alone, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.

All because they loved you.

Slipping into the closet, you nestled yourself on the floor, silky yukatas hanging above like a shroud. Your laptop glowed faintly in the darkness as you opened it and began your quiet rebellion.

You searched for apartments—something small, something within your budget. Each listing felt like a whisper of hope. You lingered on them, imagining the freedom they promised, before methodically deleting your browser history. Clearing the cache. Erasing every trace.

It was a silly idea. A foolish one, really.

But for a few stolen moments, it was yours.

It didn’t seem so silly after the heated argument with Satoru when he got home.

He was already overstimulated, frustrated, and teetering on the edge of losing his patience. Those moments were the worst—when the teasing lilt in his voice faded, replaced by something sharp and mean. His cerulean eyes, usually playful and glinting with mischief, turned cold and calculating, the glow of his Six Eyes adding an eerie sharpness to his gaze.

All he wanted was release. That was all.

“It shouldn’t be a big deal,” he said, his tone flat but brimming with expectation.

Except you weren’t in the mood.

“I’m sorry, Toru, I just—”

“I do everything for you, and you can’t even provide me with a little comfort?” His words came out harsh, the grin curling his lips into something too sharp to be soft. He stepped closer, his towering frame casting a long shadow over you. His presence always felt overwhelming—broad shoulders, perfectly sculpted face framed by stark white hair, and a lean body that seemed to hum with restrained power. You swallowed hard. Did he get taller?

“I just got off my period, so it’s—”

“It’s what?” His voice cut through your hesitation, his hands flexing as if he were trying to leash himself. “Come on, baby. Just a quickie. Or let me use your mouth.”

The fight drained out of you before you even realized it.

You ended up on your knees, the cold tile biting into your skin, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from your flushed face. His long fingers twisted tightly into your hair, guiding your head as if you were nothing more than a puppet for his pleasure. His pale chest rose and fell steadily, the faint sheen of sweat on his skin catching the light, glinting like cruel punctuation to his earlier frustration.

The tip of his cock pushed past your lips, the stretch almost unbearable as he moved with slow, deliberate thrusts. His head tilted back, exposing the sharp lines of his jaw, tightening with every wet sound that filled the room. A low groan rumbled deep in his throat, vibrating in the space between you like a growl of satisfaction.

Your throat burned, gagging and gasping as you struggled to adjust. Your hands clutched at his thighs for balance, fingers digging into the hard, taut muscles beneath his impossibly smooth skin. His hips began to move with more force, his breaths growing heavier, the faintest smirk curling on his lips as he reveled in your struggle.

His moans grew louder, rougher, until with a sharp tug of your hair, he pulled out. Hot ropes of cum painted your face, the heat of it stark against your flushed skin. You blinked through the haze, barely catching your breath, the sting of humiliation bubbling up in your chest.

Before you could even reach for something to wipe yourself clean, the sharp click of a camera shutter echoed through the room.

You didn’t need to look up to know what he was doing. You could already imagine him grinning at the screen, tapping a few buttons with casual ease. You could picture the caption as clearly as if he’d whispered it into your ear:

"Our girl is so beautiful, isn’t she? <3"

The thought sat heavy in your chest, a mix of shame, anger, and something else you didn’t want to name.

And then, as if nothing had happened, Satoru turned sweet again.

He brought you a towel, his large hands surprisingly gentle as he wiped your face. “Come on,” he coaxed, his voice softening. He guided you to the bathroom, his fingers lacing with yours, and drew you into the shower.

Under the warm water, he washed your hair, his hands threading through your strands with care. His crystalline eyes softened as he began to tell you about his mission, his lips quirking into a small smile. From the counter, he produced a small box of mochi, your favorite snack.

“You’re everything to me, baby,” he murmured, his lips brushing your temple. His arms wrapped around you, his broad chest pressing against your back. “I’m going to marry you one day. You know that, right?”

And just like that, the storm passed, leaving behind only his affection..

Your heart sank at the mention of marriage. With them, you knew they’d find a way to make it happen—the three of you, bound together, no matter how impossible it seemed.

After the shower, you slipped into bed, craving the comforting warmth of the sheets. It was a small solace, a fleeting moment where you could envelop yourself in something soft and familiar.

Satoru liked to cuddle during naps, and true to form, his lanky arms found their way around you. He pulled you close, his chest pressing against your back as he nuzzled into you. His kisses came next, peppered across your lips with deliberate exaggeration, loud and obnoxious.

You used to giggle when he did that. You used to squirm and laugh, batting him away as he grinned and pulled you closer.

But now, you stayed still, letting him press his kisses and settle into a nap with you.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d giggled like that. Or the last time you’d laughed at all.

On their next mission, you had exactly six hours.

Exactly six hours for a stupid idea. A fleeting thought.

You’d planned this carefully, down to the second. When they asked where you’d be, you made some excuse about a doctor’s appointment. It was believable enough—Suguru always asked to see the summary of your visits when you got back, a habit you knew was less about care and more about control.

But this time, you lied.

There was no appointment.

Instead, you booked a one-way trip. Far, far away from Tokyo. Far enough that they wouldn’t be able to find you, at least not right away.

The States. It was the only place you could afford with the small stash of cash you’d scraped together over the years—birthday cards, Christmas cards, anything you’d managed to squirrel away without raising suspicion. You even bought a prepaid flight gift card, ensuring it couldn’t be traced back to you.

No suitcases, no sentimental keepsakes, nothing but the clothes on your back.

Before you left, you scrawled a simple note, placing it where you knew they’d find it. Just three words:

"I love you."

Ironic, isn’t it?

As you sat at your terminal, the minutes ticked by with agonizing slowness. You told yourself a 14-hour flight wouldn’t be so bad. It was freedom, wasn’t it? The first real breath you’d taken in months.

But then, a familiar figure caught your eye.

Megumi.

He wasn’t alone—the other first-years trailed beside him—but it was Megumi’s gaze that stopped your heart. His dark eyes widened when they locked onto yours, a flash of recognition that made your stomach churn.

Your anxiety hit you like a freight train, crawling under your skin, seeping into your every bone as they walked past. Megumi glanced back at you one more time, his lips parting just enough to mouth the words: “I’m sorry.”

And then you saw it—his hand reaching for his phone, his fingers already dialing.

You didn’t have to guess who he was calling.

Your heart sank, but you told yourself it wasn’t his fault. You knew Megumi had his reasons—his own happiness to protect, his own precarious balance to maintain. He was trying to survive too, wasn’t he?

You understood. You really did.

But understanding didn’t make the fear any less suffocating.

You cried the entire car ride home, your sobs tearing from your throat, raw and uncontrollable.

Satoru didn’t even glance your way. His icy, dull gaze stayed fixed on the window, his jaw clenched so tightly you thought it might snap. The silence between you was deafening, broken only by your muffled cries and the hum of the car engine.

In the passenger seat, Suguru sat quietly, his expression unreadable. His hands rested on his knees, fingers drumming absently, as if the tension in the car didn’t weigh as heavily on him.

Poor Ijichi-san gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white, clearly caught in a situation he didn’t want to be in. He glanced at you through the rearview mirror—sympathy flashing briefly in his eyes—before he quickly looked away, the moment shattered by Satoru’s cold, piercing glare.

The car felt suffocating, like the air had been sucked out, leaving only the weight of your despair and the oppressive silence of the two men who claimed to love you.

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you watched the familiar sight of your apartment complex slip past the window. Panic prickled at the edge of your already frayed nerves, your grip tightening on the fabric of your clothes. A small sniffle left your nose, your voice coming out hoarse and broken.

“Where are we going, Toru?”

You turned your gaze to Satoru, hoping for an answer, for anything—but he didn’t look at you. He didn’t respond. His profile was cold, distant, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Your stomach twisted, guilt clawing at your insides. You must have hurt him. He always clung to your love like it was his lifeline. You must have broken that lifeline, snapped it in two with your attempt to run.

You shifted your gaze to Suguru, hoping for some clarity, but his face gave nothing away. His dark eyes flickered toward you for the briefest of moments before returning to the road ahead, his expression as still and unreadable as ever.

The car veered away from familiar streets, the urban sprawl giving way to the shadowy embrace of the woods.

Your chest tightened.

Every nerve in your body screamed as the car crept deeper into the forest, the tall trees looming like silent sentinels. Your mind raced with grim possibilities. Were they planning to leave you here? Like an unwanted dog, cast into the cold for daring to run away?

But then, just as the panic began to claw at you, your gaze caught the sight of something familiar—something that made your heart sink even further.

The tall, imposing torii gates emerged through the mist, their vibrant red striking against the muted greens and grays of the forest.

Oh.

The Gojo Estate.

“I don’t think I can trust you enough not to leave again,” Satoru said quietly, his voice uncharacteristically calm, almost detached.

He wasn’t usually the one to chide you—that was Suguru’s role. Suguru, who would dole out punishments with a sharp tongue or a chilling, parental tone, as though you were a misbehaving child. But now, Satoru’s words held a gravity that made your chest tighten.

“So,” he continued, his crystalline eyes fixed ahead, “I figured here, you could have a few more eyes on you. Maybe even enjoy it more. Who knows? You might even come around to the idea of being Mrs. Gojo or Mrs. Geto. Your pick.”

He smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“We already filled out the documentation. You’re married.”

The words hit you like a physical blow, the weight of them crashing into your chest. Your mind spun, unable to comprehend the sheer audacity of it, the sheer finality.

You felt chained.

Like a dog, tethered to their will, stripped of freedom, and locked away under the pretense of love.

They didn’t say anything as they walked you through the grand, silent halls of the Gojo Estate, and for that, you were almost thankful. The air was heavy with whispers and disdainful glances from the servants. A non-sorcerer? Their murmurs carried through the air, sharp and cutting, as though your very presence was an affront to their world.

When you reached the bedroom, Satoru’s hand guided you forward with surprising gentleness, his fingers brushing yours as though nothing had changed. He led you to the edge of the plush, sprawling bed, and you forced a small, trembling smile to your lips—a weak attempt at peace, at hope.

His bright eyes softened, and for a moment, you thought maybe, just maybe, you could reason with him.

But then his hands caught your wrists.

A light kiss brushed your lips, so soft you barely registered it over the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. The faint click of the cuffs was almost lost in the quiet, but the cold metal digging into your skin was impossible to ignore.

He stepped back, his expression unreadable.

It was Suguru’s voice that filled the air next, low and calm, like a lullaby that promised nightmares.

“You’re going to provide us an heir,” he said, his smile almost serene, even as your eyes widened in horror. “It was Satoru’s idea, actually.”

His smile deepened, almost teasing, as though he enjoyed the shock and betrayal etched across your face. “And you’re not leaving this room until you’re safe and pregnant.”

The words hung in the air, suffocating you.

Suguru’s tone carried a quiet, unmistakable happiness, as though this was something he’d always wanted. Maybe it was—he’d always longed for a child, hadn’t he? You turned your gaze to Satoru, searching for something, anything.

But all you found was the lovesick smile he gave Suguru.

Not you.

Your chest tightened as tears pricked your eyes, the overwhelming urge to scream, to sob, to lash out building inside you.

But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

Instead, you sat there, the cold metal biting into your wrists, the weight of their love crushing the last sliver of hope you’d held onto.

You had grown numb.

Must be from all the love, right?

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #yandere #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere satoru gojo #yandere suguru geto #yandere satosugu #Yandere Satoru x Suguru x Reader #Yandere Satosugu x reader #Yandere suguru x reader #yandere satoru x reader

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buggachat · 4 months ago

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Ranking the texts that the Miraculous Class sent to Juleka after she ran to the bathroom to cry in Guilttrip

I'm not going to explain myself here

S Tier: An actual text!

Marinette is the only character that (explicitly) sent Juleka an actual text with actual words here. She apologized for the situation getting out of hand. Completely normal text. The only S tier.

Everyone else sent emojis. We're ranking emojis from here on out.

A Tier: A nice sentiment

Mylène, Nino, Kim, and Alix sent her hearts. Uncontroversial, sweet. Clearly telling her that they care for her. Alix chose a cupid heart, which is a bit of a choice, but I'll allow it.

B Tier: A bit confused, but they've got the spirit

Max's emoji is a bit too smiley for my taste given the situation (she just ran off to cry!), and Nathaniel's borders on flirting, but I think the sentiment they were trying to convey is clear enough, even if they missed the mark just a smidge. Still sweet enough for a B.

C Tier: Weirdly passive aggressive???

Sabrina, what were you thinking? Imagine someone in your class (who has helped bully you in the past!!!!) sent you this emoji while you were crying. I kind of love the audacity of it, tbh. I'm sure this isn't meant to be passive aggressive, so let's just hope Juleka knows that, too.

(Side note: we see later that Marinette ALSO sent this emoji? Presumably after the "I'm so sorry!" text? Marinette? ??? Why? I think this emoji actually undermines her text. Maybe Marinette should also be bumped down to C tier.)

And that brings us to last, and also least...

F(lirting) Tier:

Come the fuck on, guys.

#buggachatter

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yandere-daydreams · 1 year ago

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Title: Idolification.

Pairing: Yandere!Itadori Yuuji x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 5.0k.

TW: No Curse/College AU, Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Prolonged Stalking, (Unintentional) Emotional Manipulation, Oral Sex, Drunk Sex, Unprotected Sex, Age Gap (Reader's 27, Yuuji's 22), Intimidation, Brief Mommy Kink, Pepper Spray, and Obsessive Behavior. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

“I’m so, so, so, so sorry.”

“It was an accident, you don’t have to—” Yuuji was cut off by another splash of milk, quickly followed by another jet of water. Her makeshift treatment was harsh, the temperature alternating unpredictably between ice cold and scalding hot, but Yuuji took the abuse with a smile that was almost bright enough to distract you from the red, aggravated skin around his eyes. Almost. “It’s alright,” he managed, eventually, doing his best not to sound like he was being slowly drowned in your bathtub. “Believe it or not, that’s only the second worst thing I’ve gotten in my eyes.”

Knowing him, it was probably closer to the fourth or fifth, but that did little to ease your guilt. He’d been leaving as you were getting home from your second twelve-hour shift of the week, and from there, it’d been a comedy of errors. He spotted you coming down the hall, haggard and bleary-eyed, and saw the babysitter who’d spent more summers than not keeping him (and, by association, his older half-brother) out of trouble before their family fell off of the face of the planet, and reacted the way Yuuji reacted to most things – with open arms and a contagious smile. You’d looked at him, a far cry from the kid you’d spent so much time looking after, and seen a very strange, very grown man loitering outside of the door to your shoebox of an apartment before charging towards you with a manic expression and, well, you had always wanted an excuse to use the pepper spray you carried near-religiously. It was only a shame it had to be on someone as sweet as Yuuji.

Now, you were on your knees on the floor of your bathroom, your fingers tangled in Yuuji’s hair as your roommate gently waterboarded him with a cartoon of organic oat milk in one hand and your decade-old showerhead in the other. The front of his t-shirt was soaked through, his lung half-flooded at least, but he was still grinning like you’d greeted him with a blank check and a litter of puppies. “Honestly, it’s on me,” he insisted, his enthusiasm too potent not to be genuine. “Miss Shoko mentioned she was living with someone.”

At the mention of your roommate, Shoko Ieiri, your attention shifted to the woman in-question. You weren’t an idiot. After the shock died down, it hadn’t taken long for you to piece together why a young man would be rushing to get out of your apartment while your attractive (albeit, socially dead) roommate was home alone. When she met your prying eyes, you shot her a pointed glare. “Cradle rocker.”

She threatened to turn the showerhead on you, but relented as soon as you flinched away. “He’s in one of my classes,” she muttered, then pushed herself to her feet with a soft groan. “We’re out of milk,” she said, shaking the empty carton. “Let his eyes air-dry. I’ll be in my office – come get me if he starts crying again.”

“I’m a doctor too, y’know.”

“You’ll be a doctor in another year. Right now, you’re an intern.” She eyed Yuuji wearily. “An intern who physically assaults her patients, at that.”

Without any real way to retort, you stuck your tongue out – a gesture Shoko mimicked as she slipped out of the crime scene that was your bathroom. Despite Shoko’s advice, you fished a towel off the nearest rack and handed it to Yuuji, who accepted it with a grateful hum. “I really am sorry,” you repeated, burying your face in your hands. “It’s just, it’s been so long, and you look so different, and god, it’s been—”

“—ten years,” Yuuji filled in, probably tired of hearing you repeat the same two excuses. “I remember, ‘cuz you invited us to your graduation that year. I wanted to go, too, but Gramps got sick and…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck with an airy chuckle. “You know how it is.”

“Oh my god,” you gasped. “I loved your grandfather. How is he?”

Yuuji’s smile wavered for the first time. “He passed, actually. A few years ago.”

Fuck.

If the building was going to collapse and bury you in the rubble, that would’ve been the time.

“Sukuna’s doing good, though,” Yuuji went on, kind enough to pretend there hadn’t been a lapse. “He opened a restaurant a few months ago. It’s a hole-in-the-wall kind of place, but it’s been keeping him out of the ring.” His expression brightened. “And you’re a doctor! I mean, I knew you would be, but you’re a doctor!”

You felt your face heat up his brother’s name, your eyes falling to the tiled floor. “Almost a doctor. I just started my internship.” And they’d already managed to work you half to death. “You’re in med school, right? Shoko never teaches undergrad.”

“It’s my first semester,” he said with a slight laugh. “It’s harder than I thought it’d be, though. Miss Shoko offered to give me a few pointers, but, y’know—” He sighed, let his head lull back. “I’m starting to think I’m just not smart enough for stuff like this.”

“You shouldn’t say that kind of thing about yourself. You’ve always been—” You cut yourself off with a sudden gasp, clapping your hands together. “If you’re struggling, let me help you study! I have tomorrow off, and I promise, I’m not as strict as Shoko.”

Immediately, he straightened up, your towel still strung around his neck and his smile returned to its full brightness. It only dimmed slightly when he glanced down at his damp shirt. “…there won’t be as much pepper spray this time, right?”

His smile was as contagious as it’d been when he was still a kid, begging you to let him stay up yet another hour past his already-lenient bedtime. Despite his bloodshot eyes and your lingering, only slightly lessened guilt, you found yourself biting back a grin.

“No pepper spray, this time. I promise.”

“Room for one more?”

She glanced over her shoulder as you struggled past the jammed sliding door, taking a moment to evaluate your stiff shoulders and strained smile over the thick frames of her glasses before nodding curtly. Your relief was immediate and all-encompassing. Honestly, you should’ve known better than to do anything but shake your head and flee the country when Yuuji invited you to hang out with a few of his friends, but he’d sworn up and down that it wasn’t a party and promised that you wouldn’t be out of place and pouted in a way you’d never been able to resist. You were starting to think that, no matter how old you got, you’d never learn to say ‘no’ to Yuuji.

The blaring music was only vaguely muffled by the glass, the blurry outlines of other guests playing behind thin curtains. There was a red solo cup in your hand, a lipstick stain on your cheek from a girl who’d passed out half an hour ago, but you were hyper-aware that you were too old to be at a college party with people at least half a decade younger than you, in the best cases. You braced yourself against the balcony railing with a soft groan, crossing your arms and hanging your head low enough to warrant a hum of sympathy from the woman next to you. She held up a box of cigarettes – the cheap kind you and Shoko used to split on the days you had to decide between food and rent – and you accepted her offer with the kind of gratitude you could only assume a starving lion would’ve shown to a limping gazelle.

“Maki,” she said, shaking one into your open palm and fishing a lighter out of her pocket. “You’re one of Itadori’s friends?”

“You could say that.” You let her light you up before taking a shaky drag, the bitter taste a welcome distraction. “I’ve been tutoring him for a few weeks. I think he just invited me as a way to say ‘thank you’.”

Her eyes flashed with recognition, the corner of his lips turning upward for the first time. “You’re the chick who used to babysit him. (Y/n), right?”

“He’s mentioned me?”

“He won’t shut up about you. Every other word out of his mouth is ‘(Y/n) this’ or ‘(Y//n) that’.” She tapped her cigarette against the edge of the railing, sending a few flakes of ash fluttering down to the street below. “Megumi gets it the worst, but we’ve all had to see the fucking pictures.”

“That… that sounds like him.” You forced out a half-hearted laugh, then wavered. “I’m sorry, pictures?”

Maki opened her mouth, but the balcony door was jerked open before she could respond. Yuji appeared in the open entryway, cheeks flushed and grin wide. He drawled your name in a single slur before moving on to more important topics. “We found a—We found a karaoke machine! ‘gumi thinks he can get it running!”

You sent Maki an apologetic look, but she only shrugged, a sliver of a grin. “Better get him tucked in.”

This time, when you smiled back, it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

It took a month for Yuuji to start ‘forgetting’ his textbooks when he came over for your little study sessions.

It took three for Yuuji to drop the pretense of studying at all – calling you out to some late-night diner or lethargic early-morning café or, better yet, showing up at your apartment door unannounced and empty-handed with only that unnerving smile and a half-baked excuse to spend time with you.

It took six for his hand to drift just a little lower than your shoulder while you watched some awful, b-rated horror movie on your well-beaten couch. You let him reach your waist before clearing your throat and shifting away, your smile pained.

“I… I think you should probably leave,” you half-mumbled, your voice shaking. “It’s getting late.”

“We haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.” Predictably, Yuuji was undeterred. His persistence used to be endearing, but now, it just felt unfair. “I don’t mind sleeping over, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s not like we’ve never spent the night together.”

A nervous laugh, his hand planted just a little too close to your thigh. “I wish you wouldn’t phrase it like—”

“I mean, I know I’m your type.” It was almost impressive, what he could say with such an innocent expression. His free hand found its way to your other side, pinning you between the arm of the couch and his broad chest. “I know you had a thing for Sukuna, and everyone says we’re practically identical. That means you should be into me too, right?”

“Yuuji,” Your eyes darted to your phone, left absent-mindedly on your coffee table. The urge was there, but it wasn’t like he would actually hurt you. He’d always been a sweet kid – a little overzealous, but that wasn’t a crime. This was just… a bad decision, one you had to stop him from making before he did something he’d regret. “Sukuna is my age, and—”

“I don’t care about that.” He cut in swiftly, definitively. His bright eyes had glazed over, catching the dim light of your T.V. as he leaned in further, as his face came to hover less than a full breath away from yours. “I’ve loved you since I was eight. Can Sukuna say that?”

“That’s not—”

“I know you used to fuck him.” His chest was touching yours, now, his breath hot against your skin. “I know you’d fuck him again, if he was here. I know—”

You didn’t give him a chance to finish. It was a weak blow, simultaneously hesitant and instinctual, but your open palm made contact with his cheek with a deafening crack, his head snapping to the side and putting that much more distance between his body and yours. He moved to cup his swelling cheek, and you took the opportunity to slip out from underneath him and stumble to your feet. “I think you should leave,” you repeated, the words spat hastily enough to blend together. “Please, Yuuji.”

For a second, he didn’t move, didn’t speak.

Then, he turned to face you, his smile wiped away and his expression so blank, you couldn’t remember how you’d ever looked at him and saw anything other than void.

He didn’t say anything, only pushing himself to his feet and shambling out of your living room. You kept your eyes on the ground until his footsteps faded out of earshot, until you heard the front door creak open and slam shut with enough force to shake the walls.

When you were sure he was gone, you collapsed onto your couch and laid motionless while an actress screamed in the background.

“Your golden boy’s asking about you, again.”

You groaned, buckling at the waist and burying your face in your arms. Shoko glanced up from the exams she was grading, but whatever sympathy she might’ve felt apparently didn’t warrant the effort it would’ve taken to reach across the table to comfort you. “Satoru’s been getting it, too,” she went on. “That’s how you know it’s bad. I can’t remember the last time someone managed to talk over that narcissist.”

“I’m sorry.” You couldn’t remember how many times you’d already apologized for Yuuji’s recent fixation. “He’s… probably just worried about his grades, or something.”

Her lips quirked into a frown. “What are you talking about?”

“I was helping him study,” you admitted, reluctantly. As much as Shoko had to hear about your unruly patients and patronizing coworkers, you’d been less open about how much time you were spending with a student fresh out of undergrad. “He’s never been that good with school. I used to have to help him with his homework in elementary school, too.”

This time, she decided your conversation was important enough to earn her full attention. “Itadori’s one of my best students.”

You felt your chest tighten. “But, the first time he came over, you were tutoring—”

She said your name, curt and blunt, and you went quiet. With a sigh, she shook her head, dropping her pen entirely. “When was the last time I offered to personally tutor a struggling student?”

You swallowed dryly. “Never.”

“And when was the last time I gave our full address out to literally anyone?”

“Never,” you said, again. After a second, you added, “Well, there was that one time with Iori…”

“Not the point. I know you don’t want to hear it, but the kid’s a creep. You might have to—”

She was cut off by your phone buzzing against the table. Your eyes scanned over the caller’s name scrawled across the dim screen before moving back to Shoko, her gaze now narrowed into a sharp glare. “Don’t.”

And, for a second, you didn’t. You convinced yourself that you wouldn’t. You told yourself that, after you bought Satoru around of drinks as an apology, you’d do… you’d do something about Yuuji, even if you weren’t sure what you could do, just yet.

Then, you let yourself picture the kid you used to watch for a few dollars an hour while his grandfather was sick and his brother was on the other side of town doing something dubiously legal at best, dead in a ditch at worst – all wide eyes and scuffed elbows and lopsided grins. You let yourself remember the way he’d ramble about his day after you picked him up from school, and how excited he was the first time you made it to one of his school’s sports days, and how he’d clung to you and sobbed the day before his family moved to the other side of the country. At the time, you’d been thankful to have one less responsibility, relieved that you’d never have to see Sukuna again. You’d been selfish, even for a kid.

The phone was in your hand in a moment, the call answered in another. You stood as you brought it to your ear, hoping that would be enough to block out Shoko’s mumbled cursing.

“Yuuji?”

The silence in your car was thick, nearly suffocating.

It’d been one of Yuuji’s friends calling from his phone – the dark-haired one with the monotone voice, barely audible over the blaring music of whichever nightclub they were standing outside of. He’d asked you to, in his own words, ‘come get your problem child’, and when you’d asked why Yuuji needed you specifically, he’d only handed the phone back to Yuuji and let you listen to a full minute of whining, your name the only coherent thing to make it off of Yuuji’s tongue. Shoko urged you not to go, and yet, twenty minutes later, Yuuji was slumped over in your passenger seat, his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed in an uncharacteristic frown.

He was less talkative than he’d been on the phone. The clingier stages of his inebriation had passed, leaving room for a disassociated sort of passiveness that meant, even if you’d been brave enough to try and start a conversation, his response wouldn’t be anything worth that kind of effort. By the time you reached his apartment complex, the knot sitting at the pit of your stomach was equal parts dread and second-hand embarrassment, but you tried to keep your tone light as you turned to him. “It’s time to get out, Yuuji.” And then, when he failed to move, “You’re on your own from here.”

He looked at you, eyes unfocused and hands folded almost childishly over his lap. You softened more than you should’ve at the sight. “…do you need help getting home?”

A second of thought, a quick nod. You shouldn’t. You knew that you really, really shouldn’t.

And yet, somehow, you found yourself in front of Yuuji’s door, fussing over the lock as Yuuji clung to your side, his face buried in the dip of your shoulder. He was cooperative enough; able to stand on his own with minimum swaying but not so lucid that it took more than a gentle suggestion to lead him to his bedroom, where he was more than happy to collapse onto his unmade bed. With a shaky exhale, you turned to leave, but something caught on your sleeve – Yuuji’s hand, when you could bring yourself to check.

“Stay,” he mumbled, his voice dampened by the sheets his face was buried in. “Please?”

You felt your throat go dry. “I can’t.”

You expected him to go shrill and whiny, but he proved to be a touch more mature than the ten-year-old you used to babysit. Rather flatly, he asked, “Why not?”

How were you supposed to answer that? Would it be good enough to say that you didn’t want to, that you couldn’t spend your night looking after a drunk kid you’d known a decade ago, that you’d already done more than you should’ve just by giving him a ride? Was it worth trying to talk to him at all when he could barely hold his head up? Would it do anything to soften the burn of the bile rising into your throat to point out that, the last time you’d been in the same room as him, he’d tried to—

No, it wasn’t and it wouldn’t and you had to leave. With your heart racing in your chest, you tried to jerk yourself out of his hold, but his vice-grip only grew tighter, his head rising up from the mattress just enough to let him stare at you with those big, bleary eyes. “Why not?”

“Yuuji, this isn’t—”

He was so, so much stronger than he had been, the last time you’d seen each other. One second, you were on your feet, at his bedside, and the next, you were on the floor of his bedroom, forced onto your hands and knees while Yuuji’s body pressed into yours from above. “I love you,” he said, his voice as steady as it’d ever been. “I love you, and I—Fuck—” He panted against the back of your neck, something uncomfortably stiff grinding against your ass. “It makes me so fucking hard when you say my name like that.”

A hand slipped under the hem of your top, his palm pressing into the small of your back. You moved to speak, then thought better of it, biting into your bottom lip as your anxious squirming turned to full-blown struggling. Yuuji only laughed, the noise airy and affectionate, winding an arm around your waist and pulling you that much closer to him – making it that much more impossible to get away. His free hand worked clumsily at your top; drawing it up and over your head. You fought against it at first, but froze the first time you felt something stretch a little too far, heard fabric tear. This couldn’t happen, but you absolutely couldn’t be stranded in Yuuji’s apartment with no clothes and no way out.

With his face buried in the back of your shoulder, he cupped your chest, catching your nipples between his forefinger and thumb and pinching with just enough force to draw a low, strained whimper from the back of your throat. “So cute…” He nuzzled deeper into your neck as his touch drifted. Your skirt was drawn downward – a long piece, something you’d thrown on without much thought – then discarded completely, his own shirt wrestled off in the same motion. You felt his fingertips slip under the hem of your panties, but he pulled away and straightened his back, instead. For a second, you let yourself believe that he’d come to his senses, that whatever sick idea he’d gotten into his head had finally worn off, but the arm wrapped around your waist only drew tighter, hauling you off of the floor and into his arms. You were dropped unceremoniously onto the edge of his bed, and Yuuji sunk onto his knees between your open legs.

“I know you’ve probably slept with other people – aside from my brother, I mean. It’d be nice to find out you haven’t, though.” His tone was distant and dreamy. He was still drunk, but not drunk enough for how he’d been acting earlier. Not drunk enough for what he was doing now. He traced the pad of his thumb over your clothed slit, keeping a hand curled around your ankle to keep you in place. “I used to hear you with Sukuna – in his car, and his room, on the couch after you two thought I’d fallen asleep …” He trailed off into an airy laugh. “He likes to show off – always has. If he wasn’t my brother, I think I’d kill him.”

He sighed, pressing a lingering kiss into the inside of your thigh before shifting his attention to your pussy; his tongue laving over the thin material covering your cunt. You were crying, now, openly and audibly – your choked sobs almost loud enough to block out Yuuji’s quiet groans and pleased grunts. However his obsession might’ve made him think he felt about you, your distress didn’t seem to affect his appetite. Your panties were pulled down your legs and slid into some unseen pocket. With the last barrier between you and him gone, he was free to trace his tongue over your slit, to latch onto your clit and suck in a way that made you want to bury your face in your hands and scream. You tried to – crossing your arms over your face, but any sound you tried to make was quickly strangled into a broken moans as his tongue fucked shallowly into your pussy. It was invasive, disgusting, but your body didn’t care. You felt cunt clench around him as his nose ground into your clit, his need for air irrelevant while he spread you open with his tongue. Your thighs clenched shut, attempting to block him out, but his only response was a reverberating groan – and hand on your thigh encouraging you to squeeze him that much tighter.

You couldn’t tell which you hated more; the unwanted stimulation or the fact that your body was reacting to it, heating up where you needed it to go cold. As he sunk further into you, ate you out like a beast starved, you clenched your eyes and willed yourself to go numb, to ignore the sloppy sound of your slick on Yuuji’s lips. It was useless, though, as futile as trying to ignore him in the first place. Your back arched off the bed, legs twitching where they hung limply over his shoulders, and—

—and Yuuji pulled away with a sharp gasp. He was on top of you before you could process that he was moving, his mouth crashing into yours before you could think to avoid him. The kiss was brutal, rushed; all teeth and tongue and lips shoved against yours with enough force to bruise. The only hint of tenderness was the soft, satisfied noise he let out as his tongue raked across yours, the bright grin painted across his lips when he drew back from you. “It’s alright.” He brought a hand to your cheek, cupping your face and brushing away tears with his thumb. “I’ve slept with other people too, ‘cause I knew I’d need a little practice to catch up with you. Could never go all the way, though. I just thought about you, and…” He blushed, simpered, like he thought he could pass himself off as the shy, lip-biting schoolboy with your slick coating his chin. “I guess I just didn’t really want anyone else to touch me. Not when I knew I’d see you again.”

A horrified sob bubbled up from somewhere deep and primal in your chest. Yuuji didn’t seem to hear it, only sighing as he pressed a lingering kiss into your forehead. “You don’t have to do anything,” he muttered, his hands falling to your waist. “I want to take care of you, tonight.”

You watched in stunned, paralyzed horror as he pushed himself to his feet, as he hastily worked off his jeans, his boxers (the dark material already notably stained with proof of his arousal). You made one more feeble attempt to squirm out from underneath him, to get away before his attention turned back to you, but confused and betrayed and so, so exhausted, you didn’t stand much of a chance against Yuuji. All he had to do was glance your way, his expression as warm as it was soulless, to leave you helpless against him.

He was eager enough not to reposition you, not to draw this out with the pretense of romance. With one hand on your hip and the other planted near your head, he lined the head of his cock up with your entrance and forced himself into you, bottoming out in a single thrust.

It was agony – pure and unrelenting. Any semblance of gentleness, of restraint fell away as soon as Yuuji was inside of you, as soon as your hyper-sensitive cunt clamped down around his cock. He cursed under his breath before collapsing, his chest pressing into yours as he tried to bury himself that much deeper inside of you, to chase the feeling of your pussy milking him for all he was worth. As hard as you tried not to think about Sukuna, Yuuji hadn’t been lying when he said they were alike. He was just as insatiable as his brother had been any time you let him but his hands on you; just as rough in the way his hips ground into yours between sporadic thrusts. There’d been bruises, the next day. At least Sukuna had been the type to make sure he was gone by the time the damage set in. You doubted Yuuji would be so kind.

“I—I’m sorry,” he managed as he buckled into you. Panting against the dip of your shoulder, he took your hips in his hands and dragged your ass of the mattress, his brutal pace stuttering as he found a new angle to abuse. “Next time—I’ll be gentle next time, I just need to—”

His cock hit something soft and sensitive inside of you. Reflexively, your hands shot to his back, your nails finding skin and tearing. The moan Yuuji let out in response was nothing short of sinful; hitched and guttural, ragged and loud enough to block out the wet, slick sound of his cock pumping into your cunt. “M—” His hand wraps around your thigh, catching you under the knee and dragging it towards your chest, letting him fuck into you that much deeper, that much faster. His face never left the crook of your neck, as if he was afraid to give you space to breathe. “Mommy, ‘m sorry, I need to—”

His teeth sunk into your throat as something hot and thick flooded into your cunt, as your body went stiff and your vision burned white. While his climax was sudden, intense, the peak to a decade’s worth of patience, yours had to be dragged out of you despite your attempts to hold it back, to deny yourself pleasure in the vain hope that it’d somehow be able to convince Yuuji to stop what he’d already finished. It seemed to hold you there in that state of dark, distorted euphoria for minutes – Yuuji’s movements turning slow and languid as he nursed you through your orgasm.

Eventually, mercifully, he went still, going limp above you with his canines still planted in the curve of your neck. If there was any pain, any other unwanted burdens he could force onto you, you were too lost in your own despair to notice, too distant to feel anything other than the mildest tinge of dread as he pulled back, raising his head just far enough to stare down at you, adoration heavy in his eyes and his grin wide and love-struck.

A small, naïve part of you found the sight suffocatingly familiar, while the rest could almost convince itself that you were looking at a stranger.

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blackbirdsblackberries · 1 month ago

Text

I Hate The New Hero!

Pt 8: The Trapeze Artist's Fall

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 - Pt 7 - Pt 8 (You're here) - Pt 9 - Pt 10

It was his second week of school for him. In no way was he excited. Gotham was a fresh start for the young boy, private school was meant to be a fun experience - many would kill to be able to get premium education - but he finds he misses the countryside hills that he'd watch pass by as his mamă taught him how to spell and read. He misses his tată teaching him math and cool sciencey things.

He misses his family.

The school wasn't the problem, though he found he was falling behind in learning due to his homeschooled life beforehand. The problem was his classmates, the ridicule he'd get for simple slip-ups. It wasn't his fault English is his second language, it isn't his fault he slips-up.

Last Friday one boy in the class, Mac Doust, had put gum in his hair. Dick ended up crying in the bathroom until Alfred came to pick him up - not Bruce, no, Bruce was as unavailable as Dick's dead parents honestly.

Gripping the straps of his backpack Dick mutters under his breath, trying to assure himself he'd be okay. The whole weekend he had practiced hiding his accent so kids would think he was normal.

Upon walking into the school he held his head high and didn't mess around, he headed straight to class.

...

That's strange, why was the door only opened partly? Ms Xavier keeps the door wide open, always greeting Dick with a wide smile and some Romanian she had put in the effort of learning for him.

Dick opens the door hesitantly, peeking inside.

He only gets to see Mac's stupid grin before water is dumped on him, the metal bucket clanging on his head harshly.

He doesn't know what to do, he stands there, the bucket on his head as the sounds of giggles and cackles fill his ears. Warm tears contrast with the cold water soaking his face.

Dick went home early that day. The incident struck a chord in him. If he wanted to stop the bullying he had to become better than them, put in the work and effort.

He will be popular, he will be better.

He will never do that cruel prank to anyone. Never

Looking down at his phone as he walks he feels nothing but a cringing sort of pain. He stooped to a level he never thought he'd get to. It was disgusting really.

Dick feels like he's no better than Mac. That he's no hero. The video plays on loop as the man takes in the pained look on your face, he can't bring himself to look at the messages in the group chat.

They're most likely supporting it, congratulating him for doing what they all wished to do.

Hell, if he was in their place he'd probably be celebrating it too. But to be there, to be the reason you reacted that way, is sickening for the young male.

Even now all he can think about is himself, how he feels. God, how self-centered could he be? It's not like he was the victim in this.. But still, surely he can't be the true bad guy in this, right?

Dick had decided against getting driven home, he felt that if he walked to the manor in the rain it'd be enough to be even with you - look, we both ended up soaked! Everything's better now!

He chuckles under his breath at his thoughts - what would Aranea even think of him?

She'd probably be angry at him for his actions but comfort him, telling him the things he needed to hear. That it wasn't his fault, that Y/N was a bad person who deserved it.

Whatever words needed so he could sleep at night really..

Dick finally decides to exit the looping video, the image of you burnt into his mind forever.

He goes into his messages and pulls up Aranea's comm number - he had put it into his phone so they could talk off shift, something she was hesitant about but ultimately caved in.

He types out a simple message. Then another. Then another.

"Heyyyy!!! Are you busy rn??"

"It'd be cool to hang out and patrol together!!"

"Bruce doesn't have to know"

He stares at the messages, waiting for them to be marked as read. 1 minute turned into 5, then 5 turned into 10. Dick sighs and exits out of the message log, clearly Aranea is busy.

He gazes on the chat log "Y/N. 🤮"

Maybe he should message her? Say sorry and try to make it up to her.. Yeah, that's what Aranea would say to do! She was always about communication.

"I know you're probably upset, I get that. I'm super sorry for what I did|

"I know you're probably upset, I get that. I'm|

"I know you're|

"What I did wasn't right. I'm sorry that I did that because you had a different opinion than me. I never meant to make you cry, only angry, I promise!"

Finally happy with the message he sends it off.

Only to remember the wonderful fact that your phone is fried due to the water.

Lucky him. He sighs, fed up with this bad luck streak he's been having.

Suddenly he remembers that he has money! More than you can even imagine!

He can buy a new, amazing phone to make things even. Yes, it's perfect. Surely you'll forgive him now!

He changes course and heads to the nearest electronic store, determined to make things right in his head. The purchase was swift and quick, the best phone he could find in the place.

Now, all he had to do was go to your apartment and give it to you!

Lucky him Tim leaked your address to everyone in the family as soon as he entered your apartment. So, with a high head he makes the slightly anxiety-inducing journey to you.

Knocking on the door of the apartment Dick stands straight as a board. The door opens and on the other side is a woman, she has severe eye bags and (H/C) hair. She seemed to have just gotten back from work. Her grey, lifeless eyes peer at him with suspicion before realizing who he was and smiling brightly.

"Mr Grayson! What a pleasure, is there anything you need?" She asks, Dick internally cringes, there was something about her voice that just grated against his ears.

There was just something so... Off... About her.

Still, he does what he usually does. He smiles and remains patient.

"Hello ma'am, is your daughter available? Something had happened and well.." Dick trails off, he doesn't want to get on Y/N's mother's bad side.

Her mother's eyes seem to cloud over at the mention of an incident, yet her smile remains in tact, if not strained. It's possible you told her already..

"Oh. An incident? What has she done, Mr Grayson?" Her mother asks, dark undertones coat her otherwise curious words. Dick furrows his brows slightly at the sudden change in the woman's mood. "Ah, well, it was my fault. I had played a nasty prank on her and her phone was ruined, I bought a new one to make it up to her!" He shows the brand new phone in it's box.

The woman doesn't look impressed, still, she smiles and hums. "Hm. Well that's lovely! Would you like to come inside? She isn't home currently but I'm sure she'll be home soon."

Something in Dick tells him not to go inside. Something was wrong. Yet, he reminds himself that he is a hero, if anything happens he will be prepared.

So, he heads inside, trailing behind the woman as he takes in the dungeon-like interior. "It's a... Lovely place, ma'am" Dick says, hoping to seem polite. The woman scoffs.

"M/N, my name is M/N. No need for such formalities!" The woman hurriedly states before flicking her hand dismissively "Y/N's room is the second door. You can wait there, or, if you want, you can hang around me!" She smiles sweetly, too sweetly, disgustingly sweetly. It reminds him of eating giant spoons of brown sugar.

He smiles politely, trying not to show his discomfort. "I'll just wait in her room for her..!" He hurries to Y/N's room, shutting the door once he's in. That woman gave him the creeps.

He looks around the small room, holy shit, no wonder you're always so pissy! He'd be pissy too if his room was just a bit bigger than a school storage closet!

The man knows he shouldn't snoop, he's done enough damage. But, maybe, if the guilt doesn't settle he can use information gathered here to help!

Dick makes his way to the chest and looks around, picking up an engineering bit, he isn't too into the whole mechanical side of things so there was no name he could pin it to.

Placing it back he moves to sit on the bed and wait. As he sits on the bed his eyes are drawn to a floorboard that seems to stand out from the rest. He kneels on the floor and digs his nails into the floorboard.

He starts to lift it up when..

RINGGGG

His phone goes off, he scrambles to answer the call, not checking who the caller was.

"Dick? Dick, okay, you're the only one that has answered!"

It was Duke, he sounds frantic. What happened..?

"Duke? What's going on? Is everything okay?"

"No, no, something bad's happened! Steph, Cass and I were at a cafe and Y/N and her friends were there as well but some waitress had messed up the orders and Y/N had an allergic reaction - or something like that!" Duke rambles, his words slurring together in a rush.

Dick's eyes widen and he feels the air leave his lungs, forgetting about the floorboard and quickly leaving the room. He'll put the new phone on your bed for when you return.

He brushes past M/N and leaves the apartment. Holy shit your luck was bad, he couldn't help but think.

"Okay, stay calm, are you guys at Gotham City Private Hospital or Gotham City Public Hospital?"

"Private."

"I'll be there in half an hour, it'll be okay."

With that he hangs up and runs out of the apartment complex.

Like hell was he about to let anything bad happen to you before he could make things right!

Taglist:

@rissareader @delias-stuff @hogwarts9 @marsmabe @randomlyappearingartist @coralaura @nervousalpacalady @citrushalo @chericia @soriansick @v0idl1nq @scrumdidiliyumyum @kittykatcreatster @feral-childs-word @anon34570 @shycreatorreview @sunny-sp3lls @fluffypackofships @cynniee @yuyuzi-ling @coffeeaddictxd @starryperson @readermommy @niggrrooo @bunbunboysworld @yanrandom @fluffypackofchips @vanilliona @wizzerreblogs @cens0r3d

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couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name · 1 year ago

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random percy headcanons:

wants to be the photographer friend SO bad and he technically is but like 70% of the pics come out blurry or weird bc there was a monster attack in the middle of them. his instagram is truly so chaotic looking.

literally always has seashells on him someone will ask him for a pencil or spare change and he has to empty all his pockets of shells to find it. drops his backpack and a bunch of shells fall out. kicks his shoes off and sand and shells fly out and his mortal friends are like percy What the Fuck

his eyes glow underwater!! bioluminescent king. no one told him though and he didn't find out until he joined his school's swim team and terrified everyone (he managed to convince them his contacts were having a weird reaction to chlorine lmao)

he really likes art!! he doesn't just pretend to for rachel's sake he genuinely enjoys painting with her. he likes splatter paint, collages and pop art styles the best. one day after splitting some edibles they realized percy could manipulate water colors and went CRAZY with it

will ask to be excused during class and comes back like an hour later with scorch marks all over his face bleeding from one of his ears covered in dust missing three fingernails rips in his jeans and a fat lip and the teacher is like percy what the actual hell were you doing in the bathroom all this time and he's just like uhhhhhh I have ibs

the brand from camp jupiter did unfortunately (for sally) Unlock something in him lmfao he keeps getting shitty little tattoos. usually stick-n-poke but someone's friends cousin's girlfriend's brother has a gun that gets brought to parties every now and then. most of them are sloppy but you can tell what they are HOWEVER he has one that was supposed to be a seal that came out looking like one of those shitty ms paint crying memes. annabeth laughed at him for ten minutes straight when she saw it.

he wanted to dye his hair blue but he was too chicken to bleach his entire head so he just did the tips. his hair is curly though so it looks absolutely ridiculous but he loves it

percy and annabeth get a crusty little yappy white dog in college and he carries it around like a baby lmao

back to his chaotic instagram, he's got so many pics of him like, relaxing at the bottom of the mariana trench or hugging a giant squid or riding on a whale shark and his mortal friends all think he's just really good at photoshop and this is a very specific bit he decided to commit to. they're always like lol percy where do you even FIND these pictures are you subscribed to like scientific journals for the laughs? but no he just took them all on his shell phone

has an ongoing prank war with annabeth's little brothers bobby and matthew but like it's Unhinged. they're playing 5D chess and she has no idea whats going on

weird tshirts!!! he loves them! like

shit like this or those 'women want me fish fear me' shirts, anything with a funny or incomprehensible slogan is going in his closet right along with his band tees lmfao

bought estelle a panda pillow pet when she was born 🥺

can NOT bring himself to eat seafood no matter how many times poseidon has told him its fine. he's like NO these are my FRIENDS JONATHAN WAS TELLING ME ABOUT HIS GRANDDAUGHTERS WEDDING LITERALLY YESTERDAY WHY IS HE ON A PLATTER DAD. they had to give up and just start eating normal land food at the palace every time he comes to visit lmfao

gets into horsegirl antics with hazel she NEEDS to know everything the horses have to say. they spend hours gossiping in the stables.

movie nights in the poseidon cabin were 10000% a thing and when he was missing annabeth and thalia and grover (and a few others) would still sleep in there every now and then and talk about how much they miss him :(

percy and beckendorf had the worlds most elaborate handshake

he DOES impulse buy stuff just because they're ocean-themed. stuffed animals, home decor, school supplies, clothes, you name it he bought it if theres like a fish on it

has more scars from crashing off his skateboard than he does from monster attacks

grover is somehow the only person who's ever noticed percy is severely claustrophobic

has a deep passion for adele. I can't explain this one I just feel and know it to be true.

he and annabeth both proposed to each other at the same time and they were SO mad about it they kept yelling over each other's speeches lmao

he can SING but he doesn't know it. sally keeps trying to record him singing to himself but something always happens to the camera and she loses the evidence

called chiron a brony one time and mr d thought it was so funny he was nice to percy for an entire week

the camp keeps trying to convince him to teach sword fighting lessons to the younger kids but he can NOT bring himself to swing a sword at a 9 year old so he keeps getting injured

has the most complicated iced coffee order in the world his go-to local coffee shop finally just put the damn drink on the menu and named it after him

he IS the quiet kid in the back of your math class that always has his hood up to try and hide his headphones and eats increasingly elaborate meals out of his backpack when the teacher isn't looking. one time someone caught him with a rotisserie chicken in the middle of a geometry final.

he argued that he DID have enough to share with the class

currently obsessed with the image of him knocking back a container of sea salt as if it was a shot and his mortal friends being like hey! what the actual fuck! and he's just like uhhhhh anemia kills!

its his birthday<3

#percy jackson #pjo #hoo #toa #percabeth #molly mumbles

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chxrryhansen · 1 year ago

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rafe with a piss kink?!?

i just seen your bucky one😻😻

-💋

god you need to send me asks more often! i love all of the ones you send me🫶🏻 rafe would be soooo mean about it…

₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧

your sat on rafe’s lap watching a movie together like you usually did on friday nights (since he didn’t approve of you going out without him and you didn’t want to spoil girls night by taking him with you) your back pressed against his bare chest and your legs intertwined as you sat on the couch, him only wearing a pair of boxers and you in your skimpy “pajamas” that he had chosen out for you.

you began to squirm around on his lap, your plump ass pressing into his cock as you clenched your thighs, desperately needing to go pee but not wanting to disturb rafe or miss a good part of the movie.

“quit squirming.” he mumbled, his hands moving to grip your hips, stilling your movement. you knew you shouldn’t have drank all that water earlier, rafe had warned you, you’d be up and down to the bathroom all night but you were so thirsty from your yoga class. so you downed around 3 glasses of water at once.

you whimpered quietly, the pressure on your bladder becoming too heavy for you to withstand. you attempted to get up, thinking if you didn’t mention it he wouldn’t question you. silently you shifted, moving away from his lap in an attempt to stand.

rafe was quick to tighten his grip on your hips, pulling your ass back down against his cock. a thick hand wrapped around, gripping your throat in a strong hold making you moan quietly.

“where do you think you’re going, hm?”

“r-rafe, let me go, i gotta’ go pee.”

“huh…” he sighed in false thought, a wicked smirk appearing on his clean shaven face. “nah i think you can hold it a little longer baby, just be quiet and watch the movie.” he thrusted his hips up gently against your pussy, his cock clearly hard, rubbing up and down your clothed cunt, his tip catching against your clit.

you whimpered yet again, clenching your thighs together quickly as you felt a dribble of liquid drip through your panties, soaking your shorts and leaking onto rafes cock. sighing at the slight relief you felt, praying he hadn’t noticed, your cheeks flustered due to your embarrassment. however you weren’t as lucky as you had hoped, nothing got past rafe. you should’ve known.

“fuck baby, you pissin’ on me now? filthy fuckin’ slut. do i need to do everything around here? including taking you to the damn bathroom?” he growled from behind you, his chest rumbling, acting as if he was mad. when in reality his cock had never been harder, so ready to burst out of his boxers and fuck you til’ you can’t breathe.

“i’m so sorry daddy, i didn’t mean to. i swear it was an accident.” you cried, tears streaming down your cheeks out of pure humiliation. you couldn’t hold back any longer, a steady stream of piss gushing out of your pussy, turning his boxers dark as you soaked his lap. crying and moaning at the sensation of finally being able to let go.

rafe groaned at the feeling of your hot piss soaking his cock, dry humping you roughly through your release.

“shh, it’s okay sweetheart, i know baby. your such a nasty little whore, pissing all over me, but its okay. daddy loves filthy girls like you, gettin’ me so hard. fuck.”

rafe pushed you off his lap and onto the floor, your knees hitting the hard surface making you whimper. he watched you with a dark grin as you looked up at him with a confused expression in your puppy dog eyes. “w-what are you doing?” you questioned. closing your eyes as he reached out, stroking the tears away from your cheeks with his thumb, shushing you gently.

suddenly your eyes burst open in shock as you felt a warm liquid begin to hit your chest, looking up to see rafe pointing his cock at your tits and face, his hot piss soaking your body in the most violating way possible. you sobbed as he marked you, confused as to why he was doing this.

“fuck that’s it, take my piss you filthy slut, is that what you are, yeah? you my dirty piss slut? soaking my cock then letting me mark you up. bet you fuckin’ love it. dirty girl, look at you, just writhing in my hot puddle of piss. who knew you were such a whore, baby.”

#rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron #dark! rafe cameron #dark rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #tw: holding #tw piss #tw: water sports #chxrrys piss kink #💋 anon #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron prompt #chxrrys prompts

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plotsignificanthaircut555 · 13 days ago

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Bottled Up (Satoru Gojo x Reader)

MDNI SMUT 18+ CONTENT

Gojo can’t cum. Too much on his mind, not enough time to himself, not enough chances to indulge. It’s becoming a matter of personal hygiene. He can't go on like this. He needs help. Your help.

Ao3 Masterlist.

WC: 7.4k Warnings: casual sex, raw sex, penetrative sex, kissing, kissing SLOPPY, oral m!receiving, discussion of anal but not present really, improper use of cursed energy, doggy, begging, crying, desperate whiny Gojo, brief mention on former satosugu,

------ Wow can you guys even believe? I actually wrote something about Gojo!! Tbh writing about/for him intimidates the fuck out of me but i have some longer form ideas about him so this was a good exercise. I hope y’all like it. -Doodle

Satoru can’t cum. He’s broken. His balls dried up. His dick died. His cursed energy overloaded and rendered him impotent. Limitless misfired and clogged him completely. It was the only way to explain why he hadn’t cum in two months.

He used to be able to cum. Fuck, he used to cum too easy. Ten years ago he would jerk off before hooking up so he didn’t cum too fast. He was so fucking sensitive, every touch or graze could send him shivering. Now he would have given anything for his days as a quick draw. That life was over.

Do people have cum caps? Like a finite amount of times they can orgasm and an excess of masturbation and experimentation in his youth had burned through his chances. He wants to believe that if he had known how wasteful he was, he would have acted differently, but it was a lie. He was too instinctual, everything in his nature, his upbringing, had taught him to trust his instincts above all else. They kept him alive, kept him going, kept him satisfied. But now, a vital piece of the puzzle was missing.

It was the sixty-sixth day in a row. He got home around eleven pm, an earlier night than most. His apartment, with its spotless, professionally tended, interior that betrayed the depraved chaos burning inside of him. Dropping his keys and shoes at the door he groaned into the silence at the way his work pants shifted against his throbbing erection trucked down his left leg. This was the part that was growing painful. The sensitivity. It started just around his pelvis, any brush of fabric or misjudged distance between himself and curses, near his hips would send a shaking beat of pleasure up his spine. But it spread, and spread. Even the car seat against his back was starting to turn him on. Last week Principle Yaga touched the back of his neck by mistake and his eyes rolled back. His black blindfold was working finding more work by the day. He started leaving limitless up constantly, well, more constantly. Only dropping completely after he had crossed the threshold of his home. Anything else was too risky.

Today had been rough, he woke up aching between his legs, the coldest shower he could stand helped to bring it down, but not for long. On the way to work he had to cross and re-cross his legs, a difficult feat at his height, over and over until he got to the school. Because of his existence in the good graces of the universe, there were no classes, only a brutally endless string of meetings. Not good, but at least…seated. By the time the final meeting was dismissed he thought he could bite through a cement support beam. On the way out, one of the higher ups patted him on the back, limitless blocking it from making contact, but he found a tantalizing urge to let it pass through, just for the contact.

He was fucking ruined.

Passing through the mainroom, up the staircase to the bedroom, he pulled his blindfold from his eyes, blinking a few times, snowy eyelashes relaxing from their position pressed against his eyelids. Finally in his bedroom, he pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it to the floor, already breathing hot and deep. He passed his bed into the ensuite bathroom, clicking the light and taking in his own reflection.

Fuck, he looked rough.

Skin sallow. Muscles strained and tense. Still handsome, of course, but drained. Like he had been wrung out.

And alone.

Satoru clicked the light off. He couldn’t go there.

He walked himself over to the bed, lithe hands finding his belt and unfastening it, slipping his pants down his legs. A relieved sigh left his mouth as the tight garment was removed. He sat on the edge of his bed, palming his desperate erection. He was shivering, the stimuli so overwhelming already. He wasn’t hopeful, but he was too desperate to stop. Keening back onto the bed, he let his eyes close. He didn’t want to see, the only sensation he wanted was to feel himself, touching himself, bringing him to the peak that felt so insurmountable. He was diamond hard now, finally he pulled himself free of the confines of his briefs. Taking his length into his hand, circling his palm over his barren tip.

He couldn’t even precum anymore.

He groaned in frustration, scooting back further on the cushy mattress, his briefs joining his discarded pants on the floor. He spit onto his hand, coating his dick from base to head, easing his strokes. He let his head fall back against the pillows, dredging up memories of past lovers to try and aid his efforts. He wasn’t really a porn guy, not above it, certainly. But it was overstimulating, bright lights, too colorful, just overwhelming to his already heightened senses. He preferred to rely on his own mind, he was in total control there. Or at least he used to be. His mind was too full of other bullshit to wander into the salacious. Work, always work. Lesson plans, missions, reports, meetings.

Fuck.

He reset, turning over onto his knees, moving one of his silken pillows under him, opting to rut against the soft cushion. One hand underneath pressing it against his length. His head hanging heavy under his shoulders, sweat dripping down the slope of his nose. The cold silk pillowcase against his cock, making his sweating body erupt into goosebumps. He slid his hips, gasping out shuddering breaths. It felt so good, so cold and soft against his begging erection. The muscles in his back rippled, swelling and beckoning under his frosty, even skin. The light of his bedroom cast gorgeous shadows on his back and hips, bringing out his excellent physique. The shadow of his spine, the lat muscles under large, perfectly worked arms, almost appearing as angel wings in the low, soft glow.

He brought his thoughts to long shapely legs, thighs shaking under his touch. Lips, wet and swollen, against his own. This was working, his breath was starting to catch in time with his hips against the pillow. He let his mind continue to wander and increased his speed. Glute muscles flexing hard as images of bodies he once held, some with features he knew well, some less familiar but still worth remembering. Some too familiar, silky, long black hair falling into his mouth. Dark violet eyes, full, strong arms.

No. Not that. He couldn’t go there either. There was nothing left for him anymore.

It killed his momentum. Still aching below but too stormy on top. Stilling his hips, slouching over the mattress. He took a few deep breaths, trying to take in the room around him in pieces, grounding himself in the present. In reality.

He wiped his wet hand over his face then on the sheets below him, gripping hard. This was getting ridiculous. He felt pathetic. Tears burned behind his blessed eyes. He felt broken. He felt shame bubbling behind his navel. He couldn’t live like this. He needed to cum. He needed to release all of this build up and get himself right.

Satoru pulled his phone from the discarded pants and tapped it a few times. Until he found just what he was looking for.

Your phone screen illuminated your dark bedroom. Your humidifier was on, your lights had been long turned out. You had just fallen asleep after some restless tossing and turning. The screen lit up again, this time chiming out a text notification. That jarred you from the warm grip of dream and made your head spring up. You glanced at the screen, trying to read the too bright notification with sleep still coating your eyes. But before you could, it changed to the dimmer incoming call screen. It vibrated on the nightstand, suddenly too loud to ignore. You sighed, and retrieved it.

It was Gojo. He was calling you. You hadn’t seen him in months. fuck was that right? You thought back. You hadn’t seen him in…six months. The last time you left his gorgeous, perfectly styled, agonizingly well put together apartment, it hadn’t been on bad terms, by any metric, but it wasn’t like you were falling into each other's arms either. There hadn’t been any blow out or agreement not to see each other anymore, it just fizzled out. You were sure you had been disappointed when the calls and texts slowed to a trickle, but it wasn’t like you were dating or anything. You had hooked up a few times earlier in the year. No more than four times total. Okay, six times. Okay, nine times. Okay, you lost track somewhere in the second month. What really qualifies as hooking up these days, anyway? Just penetration or sexting? Oral? Hand stuff? Hand stuff in public? Other stuff in public? What should even qualify if you were keeping track -- which you weren’t! You answered the call.

“Do you know what time it is?” You sighed out, smiling through your feigned annoyance.

He purred on the other side of the line, “hmmmm, what are you wearing?”

“Pajamas, because it's almost one in the morning.” your voice was hoarse, sleep having laid your vocal cords to rest.

“Sounds hot.” You could hear his stupidly sexy smile, “You should come over. Can’t waste an outfit like that at home.”

You laugh, already planning how quickly you could pull yourself together, and whether or not the trains were still running, “You’re kidding me. I haven't heard from you in months. You call at an ungodly hour and expect me to come running over at the drop of a hat?”

“You don’t have to run, I’ll send a car.” He coos.

You laugh again, stretching in your bed, letting out a soft groan.

“mmmm, do that again.” His voice grew heavier, there was some suspicious sounding rustling on his end.

You stayed quiet, wanting to see if you would hear anything else and wanting to deny him.

“Now don’t be like that, baby.” He whines, he sounds pathetic “I need your help. It’s an emergency.”

You got out of your bed, still taking your sweet time, savoring his helplessness, “An emergency, huh? Nothing fatal I hope.”

His tongue clicks on the other side, “hmmm, it’s hard to say. Could be a fever, I’m feeling…hot.”

You hate that a line so corny is making you bite your lips to keep quiet. You slipped into a cuter, but still comfy lounge set, a bit more versatile than your pajamas “Sounds contagious, maybe it would be best if I stayed home…”

“Please!” His voice changed, cracking and almost panicked, “I need you, please.”

There was no version of this conversation that ended any other way, “Send the car.”

“Already outside.” You heard his face split into that gorgeous smile you couldn't resist, not even over the phone.

When you arrived at his front door, you didn't even have a chance to knock before he swung the door open. And fuck he looked good. Bad, but good? Not bad, just…disheveled. He hadn’t bothered to put a shirt on, inhumanly muscled torso glowy and flushed, his hair matted and unkempt, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips. The long, angled white scar healed from an injury long past going from his shoulder to his opposite hip. You traced the line with your eyes, recalling the first time you had seen it, how he had moved your fingers over it, getting you used to the feeling of it under your touch, assuring you that it was long healed and nothing to fuss over. Every inch of him was perfect, despite his pain, his history. You couldn’t resist the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world. Your ogling did not go unnoticed, looking up to his face you saw the smile you had heard so much of recently.

“Miss me?” He opened the door wider, allowing you to enter, ducking under his arm.

“Yeah.” You admitted rolling your eyes and stepping inside, leaving your shoes at the door.

You took in the sleek, cavernous town house around you. His decor hadn’t changed at all, a lovely front room, a staircase along one windowed wall, leading up to his bedroom. If you were to press further into the main floor, peeling back shoji screens you would find more bedrooms, frozen in time just as they were last left by their former inhabitants, his office, barely ever touched, a gorgeous bathroom complete with a personal sauna. For someone who spent nearly no time at home, he really did have the house dreams are made of.

“I can get you something to drink if you want.” He offers, shutting and locking the door.

“That’s okay. You sounded pretty desperate on the phone, I’d hate to keep you waiting.

He wasn’t totally ready for this part. Having to explain what was going on with him. He shifted a bit, he wanted you so bad. He needed it. He needed every part of you right now, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“Come on Gojo, you got me out here. Don’t get shy on me now. What’s the big emergency?” You set your bag down on his expansive kitchen island, not subtly eyeing the absolutely incomprehensible bulge tenting the front of his sweats.

“It’s been so long, why the rush, Sugar?” He plays coy, approaching you with a suave gait, moving past you to the refrigerator, “Sparkling water? Still? I can go down to the cellar if you want something stronger?”

“Gojo…” You raise your eyebrows.

“I have tea or coffee if you prefer. Some sodas, you like diet right?”

“Gojo come on---”

“You know i'm not great in the kitchen but if you’re hungry I could---”

“Satoru!” You cut him off, finally pulling his attention from the icebox, “What’s up with you?”

His white eyebrows knit together in the center, making his eyes droop pitfully, “I can’t cum.”

You can barely hear his confession, and you must have heard him wrong so in earnest you ask, “What?”

“I can’t cum. For weeks, nothing. I try and I try and just…nothing.” He blurts, simultaneously relieved and mortified.

You know you shouldn't stare, that you should say something, but you’re dumbfounded. There was once a time, not too long ago even, where he had you bent over this exact counter pushing through his own leaking orgasm to bring you to tears. And that had been the third round that night. You always thought he was the untouchable man, a paragon of self control and pushed limits. To think of him unable to even pleasuring himself, it felt impossible.

“You can’t cum?” You say dumbly.

“Well now that you have repeated it, I think I must be cured, you can go now.” He rolled his eyes, leaning his shoulder against the fridge, fighting the hiss that bubbles in his throat from its chilling surface against his heated skin.

“I’m sorry!” You put your hands up like you had been caught, “It's just a little hard to believe! I never expected you to….struggle…in this…area.”

Gojo’s eyebrows flew up, every word you said made it worse. You could feel it but you couldn’t stop yourself. You were apparently determined to put every foot possible in your big stupid mouth.

“I just mean because you’re usually so good! How could this happen, are you sick? I don’t know why I would even ask that! Obviously you’re not sick, you're just….having some…dysfunction.”

“Why would you say dysfunction?” He stared at you, ego bruised but still amused at how poorly you were handling this.

“I didn’t mean like that! I Just---”

“Any other word. Any word in the world you could have said, and you go with dysfunction.” He chuckles, his own embarrassment now vacated completely in wake of how flagrantly you had just shit the bed.

“That was super dumb, and I’m really sorry. I have no idea what to say.” You just gave up on the second half of the sentence, knowing nothing you were saying was going to help.

“I don't have erectile dysfunction, the erection is not the problem,” He doesn’t have to gesture below his waist, the subject of conversation stands perfectly at attention, pushing against the flimsy fabric, “It won't go away, I’m stuck like this, and I can’t think about anything else, and I can’t get anything done. I need your help, you have to help me get rid of it.”

Your chest warmed a bit, a sly canary eating smile crossed your face, “So you called me, huh?”

“Yes I called you.” He sighs.

“Out of everyone you could have booty called to help your infinite boner, you call little old me? Gojo, I'm touched!” You sound like you're accepting a Nobel prize.

He rolls his eyes, “I knew you were going to be annoying about this.”

You took a seat at one of the bar stools at the counter, resting your head flirtatiously on your perched hands, “So like when you were choosing who to call, what made you pick me…am I just that good?”

You were, fuck you really were. He had thought about you so many times, Your perfect body, your pretty eyes, your soft hair, your legs around his hips, your fucking mouth. It had been too long over all, but it had been far too long since he had been with you. He called you because he knew you were great, and because he trusted you. He could be honest with you without judgement, your current reaction notwithstanding. He knew that he could count on you to be discreet and up front. There weren’t any guessing games when you were together, he didn’t have to guess or grasp for clues at how you were feeling. He knew you.

“That’s right.” He nodded, willing to let you have this.

You let out a teasing school yard oooooooooooooh. Batting your eyelashes and grinning widely, feeling like the absolute queen of the universe.

But he was growing impatient, “You gonna help me out, or what?”

“Sounds like I have quite the reputation to protect, how long has it been exactly?” You eyed him up and down.

“Still about twenty centimeters. Give or take.” He answers, “Oh! You mean--two months.”

��Months? Two MONTHS?” You gawked and then caught yourself, “I’m sorry I know that doesn’t help…I just can’t believe you’re upright. How are you not hospitalized?”

“If this conversation takes much longer I may have to be.” He crosses the room to you, leaning over where you are seated on the counter, putting his arm around you to grip the back of your chair.

You lean back, taking in a breath as he leans closer. Fuck, he’s so handsome. Perfect pearly skin, hair soft and fluffy, those fucking eyes holding you still under their gaze.

“Come on, Sugar, help a guy out. We’re friends right? Friends help each other.” His breath is sweet against your face.

You feel hypnotized, looking between his eyes and lips in a dizzying circle. His cocky demeanor you were so used to was crackling, you could see beads of sweat that had formed on his brow, his tongue wet and heavy kept his lips parted, drawing you closer. He smelled like him, warm and clean, the whole place smelled like him. You were completely in his arena, but you still had all the power. The Strongest asking you for help, begging even, you felt high. You tilted your head up, close to his face, catching his eyes,

“What are friends for?” You closed the distance between you, locking your lips together.

He is quick to pull you closer, making your breasts press hard against his chest, drawing a moan from both of you. His tongue slips past your lips, and maps the interior of your mouth quickly. Reacquainting himself with your taste. Even just a kiss, a real kiss, made his body shudder. His left hand holds your face, his long fingers splayed over your cheek, from your neck up to you temple, his right hand held the back of your neck, keeping you firm in place against him. You are far handsier than him in this moment. You can’t stop yourself, you missed his body, his kiss, him. Feeling his toned stomach, around his hips to his back, digging your nails in just enough to see if he gasps. He does not. Far too focused on the sloppy, dripping kiss he waited so patiently for. He’s leaning over you, pushing you further and further back, making you dangerously close to falling off the stool below you. But of course, his hand grabs your back, holding you still, right where we wanted you. Just past the point where you would have to engage your abs, but not far enough for you to want to hold yourself up. Muscles right on the precious of passive ability and focused contraction, forcing to to rely on his hold, trusting him completely, and he could feel you would relax into his palm, melting into his touch.

“Fuck, Gojo. You really are desperate.” You giggled as his kissed moved down to your jaw and neck.

He moaned against your skin as your nails clawed at his lower back, nodding his head passively, running his tongue over your pulse point.

“You’re so pretty.” He hooks your leg over his hip, pressing the problem child erection right against yours clothed cunt, drawing a shaky gasp from you.

“Not here.” He pulls himself away. “Upstairs…do this right…let’s”

He’s not finishing any of his sentences, you almost worry if whatever problem that resides in his cock could be spreading to his brain. But maybe it was contagious because you can’t bring yourself to care. Holding your hand a bit too tight, he pulls you forward and up the staircase to his bedroom. He doesn’t bother shutting the door, no one else has lived here in a long time. The house is quiet, bar from the panting breaths that drip from both of you, the rustle of clothes, and the reconnection of hot, desperate skin. You kiss him again, pushing him back toward the bed. He allows you to push him onto the mattress, disconnecting your lips.

“So?” You flirt, standing naked before him, letting him see all of you, “how do you wanna fix this?”

He has shed his sweatpants in the shuffle, propped up on his elbow, the other hand giving himself long, slow strokes.

“I’ve been dreaming about that mouth, baby.” He chews on the interior of his bottom lip, “show me if you’re as good as I remember.”

He spreads his legs, allowing you a good long look at how hard he really has become. Angry, pink tip swollen, veins along the shaft straining against the skin. The lower ab muscles are so strained you think they might pop. You had almost forgotten how fucking big he is. Everything about him was too big. His broad, strong body, his long spindly legs, built, strong arms hanging below his hips, those big hands with their knuckly fingers, his long, thick cock and the ego that accompanied. Seeing all of him, how big he was, made a shock run up and down your spine.

How the fuck had you fit this thing inside of you before?

“Oh, don’t be shy now,” he echos your earlier words, “you can take it.”

Not to be out foxed, you steel yourself and sink to your knees in between his spread legs. He stops stroking himself, leaning against both elbows now, waiting with held breath for you to begin.

Your put your hands on his knees, massaging them down and up, feeling the taut muscles of his thighs, the soft hairs under your hands.

“You think about me a lot?” You kissed the side of his left knee.

“Mhm.” His head hung backs exposing his delicious, wiry throat.

His adam’s apple bobbed as he gasped, you ran your nails down his legs, making his hips jerk upward.

“Don’t tease baby, it’s bad enough already!” He begged.

Fuck he sounded good like that. No one could swing the pendulum of pathetic and cocky quite like Satoru Gojo.

“Two months huh?” You carried on, giving open mouthed kisses up his thigh between thoughts, “you must be sooooo sensitive. Poor baby.”

He nods, his eyes squeezed right, trying to focus on every sensation you’re giving him.

Finally you reach the divot between his hip and the base of his pelvis, the internal hinge of his thigh. You ran your tongue along the muscle, tasting the salt of his body. His hips jerk again.

“Please!” He cries out, the lamp at his bedside flicker off and on again.

“Careful Satoru.” You warned, “all you had to do was ask.”

You swirl your tongue around the swollen, aching tip of his dick. Looping around the underside of the head and sliding your mouth down further.

Satoru was in heaven, his eyes rolled back in his head, he fought to keep his hips still, he didn’t want to hurt you, but fuck he wanted more.

You slide your tongue along each beautiful vein, making a perfect map in your head of the topography of his penis. Pulling off and sinking back down again you could take him all the way to the base, coarse white hair ticking your nose as your relaxed your throat to accommodate him he fell back against the bed, one hand moving your hair off your forehead so he could see your pretty face. He didn’t know what he wanted to do more, relax into the pleasure and let it wash over him, or watch you take him further. He leaned up to watch, just as your peeked on eye open to see him falling apart. But the eye contact was too much for him to bear, he felt his cheeks erupt in a blush, and he fell backward again, using one arm to shield his eyes.

You tutted, running his cock along your lips as your spoke, giving it sloppy kisses to make the syllabals, “oh Satoru, look at me, baby. Doesn’t it feel good?”

He nods but doesn’t look up. He can’t bear it. Your weepy eyes filling with tears from the lack of breath, your lips swollen, encasing his cock head. Your hair pulled to one side, giving him a perfect view of your hollowed cheeks as you suck and pull at him. With your spit coating his cock, the sensitivity has doubled. Wet, schlucking sounds fill his bedroom, alongside your haughty moans. Or wait…that’s actually him moaning like that. He doesn’t even recognize himself, he’s panting, sweating, begging. He didn’t even realize he was talking but the praises have been spilling from him continuously:

Yes

Baby yes just like that

Fuck you’re so good

You’re so pretty

Fuck you’re doing so good

Feels so good

Baby

Fuck

Sugar

So pretty

So good

I can’t I

Please baby make me

Fuck you’re

Agh

All he can manage by the time he looks back at you are open vowel sounds. It’s feels fucking incredible, perfect, if this were three months ago he would have cum in an instant. This was the closest he had felt, but it still wasn’t enough. He had to be inside you. The hand keeping your hair back rounded your face, his thumb pushing against your lips.

“I need to fuck you.” He says breathlessly, “I won’t cum until I fuck you, please.”

You pull off of him, a little disappointed that you wouldn’t get to brag about your head game, but you push it aside and join him on the bed. Clingy as he is, he pulls you close, kissing you hard again. Your mouth is wet with saliva and pre cum. He didn’t have the time to be impressed at your skill bringing forth the pearly substance, he coveted so greatly. He was too focused on being as close as two people can be. You move to straddle his lap, but he shakes his head, breaking from your lips.

“Bend over.” His mouth is wet now, both of you wet from lips to chin.

You grin and climb off him, stacking a few pillows to give you something to rest on and presenting your hips to him. Satoru is getting his bearings back, he feels more in control now that he has moved onto his knees behind you. Desperate as he is he can’t resist brushing two feather light fingers down your spine, watching you arch as he drags them further and further down. Your spine snakes, your hips sway, his fingers find the cleft where your spine meets your ass, a perfectly little dimple, waiting for his hands to paw at, your breathy moan eggs him on, sliding further down, feeling your tight asshole clench from just the lightest of contact.

“You remember when you let me back here?” He circles it, reminiscing, “you were so tight. fuck, you felt so good baby.”

“Remember when you let me back there.” You tried to sound tough but your position bent over with your head buried in your hands made it difficult.

“Mmmmhm.” He felt his dick twitch again, remembering when you had fingered him open, sucking him in tandum, he swore he saw an angel that night.

And here you were again, having rushed over in the middle of the night just to help him, trembling under his fingertips. Maybe you really were an angel. His very own guardian angel. If anyone could bed a steward of the divine it would be him.

“I thought you needed my help.” You whined.

He giggles, leaning over you, close enough that his lips touch your ear, his heavy cock pressing against your slit,“Just making sure you’re as needy as I am.”

He runs his tongue over the shell of your ear, making you squeal. Of course he remembered all your sensitive spots. He returned to his knees behind you, spreading you open, marveling at the mess you had made. Dripping honey onto the bed, onto your thighs, on his hand. His mouth floods, the desire to bury his head between your legs quickly matching his desire to cum.

“Later.” You whimpered, having read his mind, “you need my help.”

He beams, “so selfless.”

Finally, after an hour of build up since your arrival, the agonizing time waiting for you to get here, and the two months of celibacy that had brought him here, he aligned himself at your drooling hole, your spit was still shining along his cock but he ran either side though your folds anyway, making sure he was wet enough. He had fucked enough and had a big dick for long enough that he knew taking it all required some specific anatomy or a lot of prep, usually both. And while you were familiar with him, and giving yourself so willingly to him, he didn’t actually want to hurt you.

“Satoru please just—-“

The rest of your sentence would never see the air of his bedroom. It’s conclusion stolen from you and replaced with a pathetic scream as he pushed inside. He had meant to ease in but as soon as he started he couldn’t stop himself, he bottomed out in his first thrust. A loud smack of your ass hitting his hips still resounded in the room as he pulled back and thrusted in again. Your back arched evilly, dangerously close to snapping your spine in half. Despite his tunnel vision, Satoru eased his hand up your back, effortlessly smoothing it and gripping your shoulder for more leverage.

“Yes! Oh fuck yes.” He grunted, thrusting in an evil pace.

You couldn’t even speak, he was so deep, you were willing to bet his made an impression agains the front of your stomach. On your pillow pedastule you sank further, and reached up one formerly supportive hand to grip his on your shoulder.

“Sa…sa…” you panted out, not even able to string his name together.

He moved to long, languid, but devastatingly deep thrusts, the hand on your shoulder holding the side of your neck now, “that’s it, sugar. Say my name. Say my name, baby, come on.”

You tried, you really fucking tried but the letters wouldn’t come, “S—Sa—-sss.”

Your eyes rolled back, crumbling completely into the silken pillowcases, not caring if your spit or tears ruined the fabric. He spanked you once hard, making your head shoot up.

“I said say it.” He grunted.

Cocky for a man who was nearly in tears over the phone because he couldn’t bust.

“Satoru!” You finally spilled, his cock pushing hard against your g spot, “Satoru! Satoru please! Be gentle!”

Now that your voice had found you again it was hard not to beg him for mercy.

“Please baby, please! Fuck that’s so good.” You babbled, bringing a sick smile to his face.

He fucked harder, deeper into you, reveling the way your walls fluttered around him. You were so tight he had initially worried he was going to split you in two. But you are his angel, he should have known better than to deny your divinity. Satoru could hear your moans increasing in pitch and becoming choppy. He reached around your hip, finding the perfect pearl between your lower lips and circling his middle finger around. The clench that followed sent you both keening. His fingers brought forth an orgasm you didn’t think was nearly as close. Your hips shaking, biting into the pillow to keep from screaming.

“No baby, let me hear you.‘I need it.” He panted, not stopping his fingers on your clit or his evil thrusts, seeming deeper and deeper every second.

You tried to lift your head but felt dizzy, your vision wasn’t right, your clit throbbed beautifully but made you aware of how fast your heart was. Gojo pulled out turning you on your back, reinserting himself with a kiss to your cheeks.

“Don’t pass out on me, okay? I need you baby, I need your help. Help me, please.” He thrusted slower, only moving a few inches at a time as your came down from the mind fuzzing orgasm.

You nodded, coming back to yourself, you pulled your legs over his hips, your hands moving down the curves of his body. He slower thrust gave you time to admire him. He really was so beautiful. Looking at the sun and having to look away beautiful. His skin was reddening from effort and arousal, splotchy flushes that still couldn’t take away his perfection. The divots on his shoulders, the smell of his sweat, the taste of his spit. Fucking him felt like being completely encompassed in perfection incarnate. And you couldn’t feel luckier to have the chance to be so. He opened his pleasure screwed up eyes, those glowing blue irises, that contained so much of what everyone thought he was, looking down at you with so much trust, so much vulnerability, your heart lurched into your throat.

“You okay?” Satoru scanned your face.

You nodded, pulling him in to kiss you again, feeling his soft hair under your fingers. You held on as he increased his thrusts again. Speed, depth, power, all of it ramped back up to fainting orgasm levels.

Satoru was on the verge of tears, he couldn’t do without again. He couldn’t not cum one more time. He wouldn’t make it. He would bury himself into any hole you offered him again and again and again until he was free from this. Reaching back and pulling your leg over his shoulder, he allowed himself even deeper into you. He watched your face scrunch up in pleasure, your mouth drop open to catch hot, stolen breath from him. He wanted to make it easier, slotting his lips against yours and kissing you deep, tasting your pleasure. He swooned, his heart felt so tight and full it could burst, he was so grateful for you. For your body, your generosity, your care for him that you made look so simple. He knew he wasn’t an easy person to care about, but it seemed to him like you had never considered it cumbersome. Kissing you he felt the tears long built up by restriction begin to fall, wetting his own cheeks as well as yours.

“Satoru are y—-?” You worried against his lips, your hand in his hair moving from. A harsh grip to a soothing pet.

He shook his head, although you were right, “it’s okay. Thank you. Just thank you.”

He kissed you again and carried on thrusting, long and deep. He found your other hand and took it in his own, interlocking your fingers. Hips hard and fast, the friction not enough, he needed to touch every inch of you with every inch of himself. Your pressed against his chest as you moved to match his thrusts, putting aside the emotions that had arisen and remembering your purpose for being here. He had to break away from the kiss, pushing his forhead against yours, gasping out as you synced your thrusts together.

Oh.

Like a dim lantern in a barren desert, a non phosphorescent illusory light in a cave, the shine of climax came into his view. Still holding your hand, one of your legs over his shoulder, bending your body into a bizzare position, he chased it with everything he could. Drilling himself into your drooly, puffy pussy, again and again, causing you to cry out.

“Baby almost, cum with me, please! Pleasepleaseplease.” He squeezed your hand a bit too hard, your fingers felt cramped.

Well, they would, if you could feel them. And your leg would likely feel strained, if you could feel your hamstring still. But you couldn’t feel anything except the white hot pleasure bursting inside of you everytime he pushed against your gspot. Not breaking away from his hand, your other shot between your legs circling your clit, making you tighten up around him. Satoru cried out, the devilish squeeze of your walls felt like the last barrier between him and total bliss.

“Please baby, please.” He can’t control his voice, he doesn’t care, nothing matters when he is this close, “yes, cum around me. I need it. Cum.”

Your eyes flutter back, your head pushes against the pillow, your body erupts into cooling, overwhelming bliss.

Finally, his torment turns, the ache in his stomach unraveling. He can’t believe it, it’s finally about to be over, he feels your body shake underneath him, your hand gripping his so tightly, your cries filling his bedroom. Just at the precipice Gojo, steals one last look at your pleasure struck face, and he falls.

The lights in his bedroom bloom, swell, and overload. Bulbs bursting as he pumps himself through the most earth shattering orgasm he has ever known. Line after line of thick, long stored cum spilling from him into your waiting cunt. The room is plunged into darkness, he buries his head in your neck, panting hard.

You smile as you feel him filing you, and continue filling you. He had always cum a lot, he joked that it was his lineage begging him for continuation. But this was, beyond. Load after load of hot, desperate cum. He pushed his hips closer to you, his body yearning to become fused to yours. To never separate again.

You move one careful hand up his back, feeling the cooling sweat at his neck, the soft hair at the nape. His breath slows against your skin, but he doesn’t yet push himself off of you, keeping his heavy frame collapsed on you. But you don’t dare complain, committing the heat of his body to memory. The moonlight from the window is now, thanks to his discharge of power, the only light in the room. Your eyes adjust slowly, his features glowing in soft blue-white light. The air in the room is thick and full of both of you. Had you an eternity to indulge yourself in this moment, it would still feel too intangible to recall. But you try anyway.

Once his eyes have stopped spinning in their sockets like some knock out cartoon, Satoru pushes himself off of you, staying inside, just hovering above your body. His misty blue eyes look over every inch of you in a second. Taking in everything about this moment, how your skin reflects the moonlight, your eyes heavy and half lidded with sleep and bliss, your soft smile waiting for him to say something. But he wasn’t ready yet, he pressed his lips to yours again, firm but not desperate. He’s kissed you lavishly and with no burning sense of time. It could be called lazy if it weren’t for the focused decadence behind his mouth. He finally separates, thin silks of spit still unbroken between you two.

You brought your unheld hand to his face, cupping his cheek, watching as his eyes flutter shut. You could see tears drying on his cheeks, overwhelm and gratitude thier origin. The moon brought them forward for your viewing, you swiped a thumb under one eye. They both open under your touch, filling with something unreadable. He let go of your hand, opting to mirror your hold on your face, using one long finger to brush away a hair gelled to your sticky forehead.

“Thank you.” He reiterates, the frantic gratitudes from before nullified into a sincerity that made you nervous despite the juxtoposition of his cock still inside of you.

“Anytime, Satoru.” You can feel your cheeks heat, but your bliss doesn’t waver.

He slid out of you slowly, careful not to jostle his tingling, overstimulated length.

You both are left panting once he has been removed completely. He moved onto his side next to you, on his back, breathing up into the dark ceiling. You realize that you had no way of knowing what time it was. The thoughts of work and responsibility tomorrow we’re beginning to gnaw at the edges of your mind. You should get home soon, leave him to his new sexual freedom. You’d imagine he would be ready to pass out if he wasn’t asleep already. The expulsion of cursed energy enough to knock out the lights, enough to send him comatose.

You should know better than to underestimate him. Gojo sits up, stretching his long arms in front of him, allowing the formerly clenched back muscles to reset. Leaning back against his hands he looks down to you.

“I gotta change the bulbs and reset the fuse box. You wanna stay here? Once I’m done we can go again.” That flirty smile quickly irresistible, “orrrr, if you help me I’ll be done ever faster and I can thank you properly.”

You rolled your eyes, giggling, “I’m still recovering from the last favor I did for you. Come get me when you’re done.”

You settle back into his bed, the luxe duvet the perfect cloud-like weight on your shoulders. The smell of him clinging to every stitch of his sheets.

He moved off the bed, slipping on his underwear and making quick work of changing the burst light bulbs. This wasn’t the first time a miscalculated charge had knocked out the electrical system of his house. He had a private grid, it wasn’t that elegant but between the solar panels on the outside and a small self sustaining aquaphir underneath, it was nearly entirely self sufficient. So it was simple enough to fix when it did happen. When he switched the fuse box, the electric hum returned. Back in his bedroom he found you sleeping, curled up in his bedding, snoring softly. He moves some hair off your shoulder, fingers gentle on your thin, soft skin. Bare except for the duvet pulled over your shoulders. He crouched next to you silently, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek. He was lucky to have you, someone who would help him so readily, so selflessly. Someone he could trust and confide in. It had been a long time since he could trust someone like this. Still standing over you, he watched as your stirred, sleepy eyes opening to take him in, squinting against the refreshed lighting.

“Coming back to bed?” Your sleep riddled voice charmed.

“Oh I’m not done with you yet.” He moved into bed beside you, taking your body in his arms once again, his lips fighting home under your jaw.

He really was insatiable.

YAY!!! I hope y'all enjoyed this one. It was fun to write and fell together really easily. I am a lot less intimidated by writing gojo now. But I would love to hear yall's feedback on how it came off!! PLEASE! again, i have a much longer, more structured idea for him that I am wanting to build up to eventually so i would really love to know what yall think. Doodle <3 <3

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angelsrcute · 11 months ago

Note

dr ratio with a pathetic yandere sub reader only to find out that dr ratio is more obsessed than them and proceeded to fuck them to overstimulation PLSSS

PATHETIC BOY ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙

◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ genre — smut ! ◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ parings — Dr ratio w M!reader ◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ warnings — teacher x student relationship, yandere stuff, praising, overstimulation, biting.

You thought he never noticed, Clicking pictures of him when he's not looking, how can you not? He's such a pretty guy. It's not like you don't have pictures of him on your wall, a whole diary dedicated to him.

Sometimes people would go missing if they try to flirt with Dr ratio, definitely not your doing. Ah, you forgot to clean that body..Those little glances you'd give him when he was teaching the class, fantasising how good he'd feel, fucking you, filthy little ideas that gave you a boner. You'd excuse yourself to the restroom to jerk off.

Dr Ratio apparently had a thing for you too, unknown to you! But one day when he went to your dorm, to give you back your textbook you accidentally forgot. He was surprised, only a little, seeing pictures of him on your wall.

Of course he wasn't an absolute dumbass, he knew about what you felt towards him. His lips curled into a grin, he sat down on your bed, looking through the diary.

Someone definitely deserved a punishment, the ideas were pure filth!

He waited till you came back, when you did, you gasped at the sight of him. What was he doing in your room, shit, you're fucked–

“Such a naughty student you are, strip. m’ gonna teach you a lesson.” He says patting the bed.

And that's how it came to this, Him thrusting into your hole as you grip the sheets, crying out when his dick hits your prostate. It's been hours! His nails digging into your waist, his dick cumming into you.

He spanks your ass when you don't answer his question, you can't even think straight!“I believe I asked a question, didn't I? Have I fucked you so dumb that you can't even reply?”

You're shooting blanks at this point, you want him to stop but you don't want him to stop, it just feels so good! “Please..hah..I can't anymore–” You breathe out between gasps.

“Be a good boy, you can cum for me again right?” He says kissing your neck, sucking lightly on the skin. His hands grip onto your hair as he kisses you, slipping his tongue in, his pace never faltering, gosh, how much energy does this man have?

With another orgasm he pulls out, panting heavily, catching his breaths, cheeks flushed.

“Don't you have a test tomorrow? Come to the office after the class, I'll give you good grades and personal tutoring, in exchange I expect you to sit pretty under the desk as you, suck me off. Got it?” He says while carrying you to the bathroom for a shower.

#honkai star rail smut #dom character #sub reader #hsr x male reader #hsr x reader #hsr x y/n #hsr x you #hsr smut #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #dr ratio smut #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio x you #dr ratio x y/n #dr ratio x male reader

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chrisbesitos · 3 months ago

Text

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀dangerous. 𔘓

꩜ warnings: angst, mentions of alcohol and drugs, cursing, sickness, fluff.

꩜ synopsis: after three weeks, ballerina!reader and dealer!chris finally sees each other again, but now chris needs to do everything right, or else he'll lose you forever.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ꒰͡⠀🩰 𝅄 💸⠀͡꒱

It's been three weeks since Chris tells you that you were ashamed of him, since you screamed with him and threw the bouquet on his face. It's been three weeks you're crying in your room, because you miss him, even though in front of everyone you pretend you're okay, when you're not. It's hard to not cry when your favorite plushie was gifted by him, or how his scent totally missed from your bathroom. Your clothes don't smell like Chris anymore, only an old hoodie you kept and not washed since you break your nonexistent relationship. Even though you blame him for not asking you to be his girlfriend, you feel guilty for being ashamed of him.

You know you should've confronted your mother and said that you and Chris were together. You ruined everything, you should be brave, not a coward.

After three weeks without going out, only for classes, your friends finally convinced you to hang out with them. Lena said that you have to keep going, even though that means being without Chris. She helped you to choose a cute dress, do a nice makeup and forced you to wear high heels, even though you hated it, always makes your feet hurt. The party was filled with unknown faces, the music was kinda annoying your ears and when your friend handed you a red cup with a red drink, you remembered you just drink when Chris' around. He's not with you now, but you still feel the ghost of him.

Sitting on the couch, your fingers tugging the dress hem down, feeling uncomfortable by the size, it was Lena's dress. You mumble something to your friend, he's your dance partner and was talking about the next performance you'll have, but you weren't paying attention. He lazily embraces your shoulders, trying to catch your attention, you give him a small smile and then your eyes catch his figure.

He wasn't wearing his black clothes, like he usually does. He was wearing a blue polo shirt, his cap backwards, the lazy smile on his lips as he walked inside the house. His arm around a girl's waist, your stomach churn in discomfort, you bite your lower lip feeling a wave of jealousy fill your chest.

Who's this bitch? Why he's holding her waist?

You couldn't help it, your eyebrows frowned showing your visible anger, you stared at the cup in your hand and in a second turned the drink down your throat. Chris' eyes meet yours, he watches you clean a droplet dripping down in the corner of your mouth. His jaw clenched when he saw your dance partner arm around your shoulders, he leans his head to the left as he gave you an angry smile, he holds the girl's waist harder. You take a sharp breath and smash the red cup around your hands.

"Jeez, Y/N." Lena says, chuckling as your evident anger. She turns her head to the right and sees Chris, now knowing why you're irritated. She leans her body and touches you tight, catching your attention. "Forget about him, we're not here for this, remember?"

"Yeah, whatever. I don't care about him anymore." You lie. You clearly care about him and see him with another girl breaks your heart, you feel your eyes getting glassy and your nose burns. "I'm going to get another drink." You lift from the couch, walking towards the kitchen.

You throw the smashed cup in the trash, take another one and fill it with the red drink. You swallow at once, putting your hand behind your chin to clean the droplets, you were about to fill the red cup again when a hand grabbed your wrist. The silver bracelet on the wrist and the familiar scent.

"Get your hands off me." You mumble, showing your anger and jealousy. Chris laughs sarcastically, he leans his head and puts his mouth close to your ear, close enough to you hear his breath.

"Drop that fuckin' attitude." He whispers. Chris turns your body by your wrist, your eyes burning in fire staring at his. His other hand is grabbing your waist, pressing his fingertips on your skin covered by the black dress. You would've resisted his touch if you weren't mad at him, but you are and you're not together anymore.

"Go fuck the girl you were holding and forget me." You say, pushing his chest and walking away from him. Chris punches the table, the noise making some people look at him, he sighs with his nose scrunched and walks back to his group of friends.

He wasn't with the girl he was holding the waist, actually she's just a childhood friend of him and his brothers and she's hundred percent not into guys, since she's a lesbian. But you didn't know, you feel the jealousy burn in your chest, wanting to punch the girl's face. You walk back to the couch, sitting in the middle of Lena and Adrien, your dance partner, they didn't ask what's the problem, not even when you grabbed Adrien's cup from his hand. They just let you forget all your problems for a night.

You can feel your head dizzy, your eyes look foggy, but you don't care. You giggling like crazy over something a random guy said, but you didn't even know what he was saying, because you're too drunk to pay attention. Unlike you, Chris didn't put even a drop of alcohol in his mouth, he watched you the whole night like a hunter watches his prey. Paying attention to every move you did, like when you almost fell and your new boyfriend — he thought — held you by the waist, you hugged him. This makes Chris' blood boil, but he didn't do anything, because he was waiting for the moment you'll need him, because he knew you would need.

Chris didn't want to go to this party, not because he doesn't like the host, but because he wasn't in the mood. But when Matt told him you would be there, he changed his mind. A couple of days ago, he had a conversation with Matt, he helped Chris to realize his feelings for you.

[ flashback ]

"What's wrong with ya'?" Matt asks, grabbing a drink from the fridge. Chris shakes his shoulders, busy watching a movie on the TV. He's been watching movies and locked in his room for weeks, Matt was tired of watching his brother suffering because of a relationship.

Even though Chris didn't say anything about breaking up with you, Matt knew something was off, because it's been three weeks since the last time he saw you in their house. The last time, you and Chris were making out in the kitchen. Even if he hates it when you do that, he still doesn't want to see Chris like this.

"Where's Y/N? It's been years since the last time I saw her." Matt says again, walking towards the couch. Chris glances at him, huffing and rolling his eyes.

"I don't fuckin' know, leave me alone." He snaps, looking at Matt with his eyebrows frowned in anger. Matt throws his hand, taking a deep breath next.

"Did you break up?" He asks, sipping his soda and staring at Chris. He looks at Matt, thinking about leaving the living room, but he just sighs and slowly nods with his head. "I saw the bouquet in the trash."

"She threw on me." Chris says, crossing his arms on his chest as Matt nods with his head, leaning his body to rest the soda can on the coffee table and grabbing the wallet above them. "I went to see her dance, ya' know? But when we were leaving her mother appeared and she saw I was a friend of her, do ya' believe it? I defended her from her stupid mother and all I received was being called a friend." He takes a sharp breath, his eyes burning wanting to cry. Actually, he didn't even know why he wanted to cry. "In the car she got mad at me, said that I never asked her, so she wasn't wrong, damn."

"Wait, you're telling me that you got mad at her because she called you a friend, but you didn't even ask her out?" Matt asks, trying to understand the whole story, but Chris catches his sarcastic tone. He shakes his head in disbelief as he lights the joint on his lips, he takes a hit and a cloud of smoke goes out of his mouth as he says. "She wasn't wrong as much as you think she wasn't, you clearly were just friends with benefits."

"I can't believe that shit, Matt." Chris says, throwing his hands on his lap. Matt giggles letting out a bit of smoke, Chris grabs the joint from his lips and takes a hint.

"Yeah, actually friends with benefits don't have feelings for each other. You're just an idiot."

Feelings. Feelings? Chris never thought of this possibility, because he never thought he would be in love with someone, even though this someone was you. A strange feeling fills his chest, thinking about the moments he spent together with you, all of the deals you went with him, the night you spent together, everything. Since Chris met you, all he wanted was you, he literally blocked all the girls he usually had sex, because you were special. You deserve more than sex, you deserve everything and he ruined everything.

"So you're gonna stay here acting like a stupid or you gonna do anything to fix the things with her?"

"I don't know what to do, actually." Chris assumes. Matt shakes his head.

"Well, she'll be at a party tomorrow night, at Henry's house. I know you hate him, but is your chance to do something." Chris rolls his eyes, he hates Henry, but he can hold it for you, but just for a night. If he sees him again, he'll punch his face for the day he tries to flirt with you. Chris nods, accepting going to the party with his friends, just for you.

"How do you know all that shit? You must've a secret girlfriend." Chris teases, grabbing the joint from his hand again.

"I'm just smarter than you, Chris." Matt says, Chris smacked his shoulder. "And I don't have a secret girlfriend, because I know how friends with benefits work."

[ end of the flashback ]

So, Chris now knows his feelings for you and wants desperately to fix the things with you, but you apparently already find it a new one. He's jealous, of course he's, because his look speaks more than words. Matt offers him a joint, he's doing the deals tonight, since Chris is busy watching you, but he denies. He wants to stay sober, like this he could keep taking care of you, because he didn't trust anyone in this party. He knows he'll not fix anything with you in that drunk state, but at least he wants to know everything is okay, because he cares about you too much to leave you alone somewhere, even though you were with your friends, he's the only one who can keep you safe.

"Shit, doll." Chris mumbles when he sees you lift from the couch and stumble until the bathroom hallway, your friends run to you, but Chris stops them. "I'll take care of her, you did enough for tonight." He says, stepping up his walk to the bathroom.

The door was unlocked, he quickly stepped in and closed the door again. He lowered behind your back, caressing your back and tugging your hair from your face as you put your guts out. Chris sighs, he knows this would happen, you can't drink that much and your stupid friends didn't stop you.

"Get out." You mumble, breathing hard. Chris didn't answer, he just keeps caressing your back until you feel better.

"You good?" He puts his hands on your forehead, lifting your head and pulling you next to his body.

"Mhm." You hum, cleaning your mouth with the back of your hand. You let Chris lay your body against his, you rest your head on his chest, taking deep breaths as he massages your scalp with his fingertips. "I'm gonna find my friends." You say, trying to lift from the ground, but your legs look like noodles, Chris stops you.

"You're not going anywhere in that state, you're going home with me." Chris demands, lifting from the ground and then holds you under your armpits. You're so stubborn, but he's stronger than this.

"Why are you doing this with me? Treating me like I'm a baby!" You huff, resting your hands on the sink, when you almost lose the balance. Chris sighs, he flushes the toilet and asks you to watch your mouth. You did it and he holds you by the waist, in case you lose the balance again. "I'm not going home, you're not my boyfriend."

"I might not, but I still know you, so I'm gonna take care of your drunk ass." He snaps, but regrets when your lower lip turns into a pouty. You look so cute pounding, he almost smiles. "You're going to make this easy for you or I have to carry you to the car?" He asks, you cross your arms against your chest staring at him. "Fine, you choose this."

He grabs your waist and lifts you from the ground, putting his arm under your thighs. You try to fight against him, but you're weaker than him sober, in a drunk state is even worse. Chris walks out of the bathroom, carrying you until his group of friends, looking for Matt. He smiles when he sees you together, but they disappear when he sees you look kinda angry.

"Hey, can I leave with the car?" Chris asks, ignoring you mumbling curses to him. Matt just nods and gives him the car keys, he can leave later with Nate. "Tell her friends she's fine."

"I'm not leaving." You mumble. You give up the fight against Chris, just accept the fact he'll not let you stay in the party.

"You already are, doll." Chris says, laughing.

He walks towards the car, he opens the door for you and gently puts you inside, helping with the belt. When he was walking around the car to get on the driver seat, you start to remember the night of the fight. How upset you feel — and still feeling —, the way you screamed at Chris and threw the flowers on him. The flowers were so beautiful and you just threw them on his face. Suddenly, you feel the urge to cry, the car in silence again making it worse.

"What did you. . . Oh, doll, why are you crying?" Chris asks when he hears your sobs, at first he thought you were trying to say something. He sighs, stopping at the red lights, he turns to you and cleans the tears on your cheeks. "No, no. Don't cry like this, there's no reason."

"I didn't mean to throw the flowers on you, I love that bouquet. They smelled so good and it was so beautiful." You sob, looking like someone has turned the faucet of your eyes on. The tears falling one after another, dripping from your chin. Chris coos, giving you a sad smile, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

"It's okay, babydoll. I'll buy you a new bouquet." Chris says. You take a sharp breath, slowly nodding, cleaning your tears with the back of your hand, but still hiccuping.

"Stop crying now, you're gonna gag."

Your hiccups already stopped when you got home, Chris parked the car and jumped out. He helps you to get out of the car and carry you to the door, Lena is with your purse at the party, but fortunately Chris still has his keys. Chris walks towards the kitchen, putting you on the balcony, he looks for a glass in the cabinet, putting cold water for you. You drink the whole water and give the glass to Chris, mumbling a 'thank you'. He carries you to your room, you're not complaining about anything anymore, actually you snuggle on Chris' chest, slowly falling asleep.

He changes your clothes, even though you are kinda sweaty, doesn't feel right to give you a shower in the state you are in and not resolved yet. Chris just puts on you one of your cute and fluff pajamas and cleans the makeup on your face, like he always does. You smile lazily at Chris, he kisses your forehead, climbing out of the bed to throw the dirty cotton in the trash. He walks back to cover you and say goodnight, but you stare at him with a little pouty on your lip.

"What's wrong, hm? You feeling sick again?" Chris asks as he pats your hair. You shake your head, shifting to the right. "You want me to sleep with you? No, doll, not tonight."

"Just stay with me until I sleep, please." You always convince Chris with a pouty. He nods and slowly climbs on the bed, putting himself under the blanket, he massages your scalp to help you feel drowsy, more than you always are feeling. "I want to say sorry." You whisper.

"We talk by the morning, doll. Just sleep, I'm not going anywhere." He keeps massaging your hair, you just nod and slowly close your eyes, quickly falling asleep. Chris stayed with you for only an hour, when he was sure you wouldn't wake up, he moved towards the couch to sleep there.

He keeps awake for another hour, wondering about you. He's scared, what if you don't want him again and knock you out? Or you throw something worse than flowers on his face? He just wants to fix everything with you and finally ask you out, he's not the best romantic, but he'll do the best for you. He falls asleep at some point, on the couch you used to watch movies, make out and. . . Well, whatever.

You wake up with a terrible headache, at least you're on your own bed. Your stomach groans when you smell the scent of food, you frown your eyebrows wanting to know who's cooking. When you climb out of the bed, your feet are covered with socks, you stretch your hair as you walk downstairs, the smell gets more delicious, your mouth is already watering. To your surprise, when you got in the kitchen, the table had pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, you don't like it, just Chris.

Chris was putting boiling water on two mugs, you smell your favorite tea. A smile grows on your lips, you wait for him to turn around and see you. He almost scared himself when he turns and sees you standing there with your eyes puffy and your hair messed.

"I made breakfast." He says, smiling and showing the mugs with tea. You lift your eyebrows, Chris doesn't know how to cook, you look at the balcony and see the delivery bags, you giggle. "Okay, I bought breakfast, but I made tea."

"Thank you, I appreciate it." You say, walking forward the chair, Chris puts your mug on the table near you. You frown your eyebrows in confusion when he puts his mug down and walks to the laundry, he returns with a big bouquet of roses with a little piece of paper, a letter. "Oh, Chris. Thank you, you didn't have to."

"I told you I would buy you flowers." He walks until you, giving you the bouquet. You grab it, holding it next to your nose to smell the scent, Chris kneels down, waiting for you to read his letter. You pick the paper smiling. "Doll, I'm really sorry, I never meant to say what I said. You're the one that I want. With love, Chris." You read.

"So, do you forgive me?* Chris asks, rubbing your thigh, staring at you with puppy eyes. You never saw him look at you like this before, you find it so cute.

"You don't even have to ask!" You say. Chris lifts from the ground and holds your chin, pressing your lips together. You missed his touch so much and Chris missed you too, he was about to fall sick without you. "Wait, I'm sorry for throwing the flowers on you and for not telling my mom we were together."

"You weren't wrong, I never asked you to be my girlfriend, but now I'm gonna bring you on a date and ask you out, like you deserve." He brushes his finger on your cheek, you lean your head on his hand, your heart melting for the way you feel next to Chris. "Don't worry about that anymore, babydoll."

"I adore you, Chris." You say, staring at his blue eyes, your heart beating faster on your chest, your hands sweating and your lips leaned in a big smile.

"I adore you too much, doll." He kisses your lips, his chin brushing against the flowers, he chuckles against your lips. "Damn, I missed you so much."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm not easy to forget." You tease, giving a peck on Chris lips. He rolls his eyes, but you're not wrong. You're so hard to forget. "Chris." You whine. "I'm starving!"

"Fine, let's eat before you get fussy." He says and grabs the bouquet from your hand to put on a glass later.

You eat together, Chris spends the whole day taking care of your hangover. He never felt so happy, for a guy who never expected to fall in love with someone, you completely changed his mind. All he wants is you and no one more in the world, he wants you to be his girlfriend. You really adore him, actually your feelings are slowly turning in more than only adore, Chris was the only guy who ever made you feel passionate, the only one who treats you well. For a girl who never expected to fall in love with a dealer, Chris completely changed your mind.

꩜ chérie's notes: hi, my pookies! finally part 2, hope you like it! tell me if you want more <3

tags ; @lizzymacdonald06 @lushjunkie @sweetreliever @watercolorskyy @ivysturnss @brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @gabri3la-sturns @stvrnzcherries @unknvhx @pvssychicken @all4l0vee @i4longhairchris @sluttybitchformattsturniolo @sophand4n4 @sturniololetstrip2 @zayluvss @sturnsmia @sofieeeeex @ifwdominicfike @planettori @jetaimevous @leclecwifey16 @mattswifeyx @joclyn240 @voqueflms @pepsicola-pussy @sturnobsessedwh0re @chrissturnioloswifeee

masterlist | taglist

#chrisbesitos 𝜗ৎ #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #chris sturniolo x y/n #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo fanfic #꒰ dealer.ᐟchris ꒱#꒰ ballerina.ᐟreader ꒱

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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 5 months ago

Text

Trying II**

HERE IT FINALLY IS! I hope you guys enjoy the conclusion to this AU! If you want more of this pair feel free to request updates on them! Read Part I and related blurb here!

Warnings: dirty talk, P in V (unprotected), breeding kink, free use kink, light gagging, edging and orgasm denial, overstimulation, oral sex (fem receiving), slight pain kink, alcohol consumption, mention of minor fertility issues

WC: 8.2K

Life had taken an extremely eventful turn for both, you and Harry in the last few months. For Harry, the opportunity to expand his business had risen very suddenly. The unit beside the brewery was a boxing gym and they had outgrown the space. Harry worked out there sometimes so he was friends with the owners and when they decided to relocate they asked him if he was interested in buying the space before they put it on the market. After talking about it with you and crunching some numbers he had bought it and now was in the middle of renovating. Obviously, this took a lot of his time and Harry had been really busy with the brewery as of late and it would stay that way for a few more months.

He had big plans for this expansion. He was going to expand his beer selection and also start working on brewing three of his own beers. The brewing portion was the first thing they were getting set up for the inspection and licensing process so that he could start fermenting his own brews on site. You were so proud of him and everything that he was doing but you missed having him around as much as you had previously. His expansion project pushed you to become an adjunct for an art class at the community college to bring some money in and also stay busy, so you truly hadn’t been smothering each other as much as you normally were.

On top of things shifting in your work lives, you had learned that you weren’t ovulating every cycle. You’d always assumed that if you had a period you had ovulated, but apparently that was not at all the case. It took you nearly six months with no success at pregnancy before you went to the doctor and had some tests done. Your hormones were a bit out of whack, thankfully no abnormalities had been found, so you had just been taking some medication to help block estrogen receptors and encourage the release of an egg each cycle. You had been on this treatment for three months now and you were very optimistic about it. More than ever before you felt and recognized the phases of your cycle more markedly, especially when you ovulated or were getting close. Sure, you were a naturally horny person to begin with but this was something else. It was like you had no resolve whatsoever. And despite the decrease in scheduled baby-making time because of your busy schedules, these changes had led to far more spontaneity in your sexual life with Harry. Like now…

“Baby…” Harry laughed breathily as you pulled him into the bathroom of the little bridal cottage of the vineyard you were currently at for a friend’s wedding. “Wh-what if Darci comes back for something and-”

“She’s not. She’s busy fake-crying at the toasts.” You assured him as you reached for his belt buckle. Harry chuckled into your kiss and his laugh morphed into a raspy groan as you slid your hand down the front of his slacks and groped over his semi-erection. You loved the way his cock fattened up so fast for you. As much as having a taste made your mouth water, you needed him inside of you and rearranging your guts more. “Please fuck me, daddy. I’m so fucking horny for you.” You said in a small voice as you peered up at him. Those, pretty eyes holding such an innocent look in them absolutely melted him to his core.

He smirked at your request, “Need my big cock, baby?”

You nodded in response, “Yes, daddy. So bad.”

“Alright, but we have to be quick, okay? You can come the first chance you get, alright?” You nodded in understanding.

Before you knew it Harry had you bent over the counter, your hands holding your bunched up dress in tight fists with your thong stuffed in your mouth because you could not keep it down while Harry fucked into you impossibly deep from behind. Your legs were trembling so much that Harry was basically holding you up. It was hard for you to come standing up and when Harry realized that you were struggling to come he quickly picked you up and set you down on the empty counter space and plunged back into you.

“Fuck…I’m obsessed with your tight, little pussy, baby.” Harry muttered as he thrust in and out a few times. He then started swiveling his hips a bit more and it was making your head spin. The tip of his cock was rubbing into your g-spot with each gyration of his hips, it was making your eyes roll back as you rubbed at your clit steadily. “Shit, you squeeze so fucking tight! Fuck baby, squeeze m’cock…yeah, come for me. Come on daddy’s big dick.” He encouraged you through your muffled curses. Your body shivered as these tingling feelings radiated all over your body from the deepest part of your core, right where the tip of Harry’s cock was colliding and out towards your extremities. It was causing your orgasm to draw out far longer than you were accustomed to.

“H-Harry!” You mumbled against the fabric in your mouth as the overstimulation made your legs start to visibly shake. Harry smirked down at you devilishly, his eyes dark with lust and excitement over wrecking you like this. You had the most worn out and tortured look in your eyes, it was going to push you over the edge again. “Fuuuuck!” You groaned in desperation. You couldn’t help but let out a whine, thankfully it was muffled. But he literally saw as your mind went blacn as the sopping, velvety walls of your pussy constricted his throbbing erection. Your eyes rolled back before your body started to tremble as your orgasm started to take you out.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Squirt on my cock…” he encouraged as you literally burst at the seams from the pleasure that was coursing through you. You were just seeing white hot ecstasy behind your closed eye lids. Your skin was covered in goosebumps as he continued fucking into you in long and deep strokes as he sought after his own orgasm.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come so deep inside of you. Gonna flood your little cunt with my cum.” He mumbled as he pressed his forehead against yours. He moaned from deep in his throat as his rhythm started to falter until he was blowing his load inside of you. “Fuck, there it is…” he mumbled softly as his orgasm started to course through his body. Harry’s knees were nearly buckling as he came undone. You were clinging to his shoulders, nails biting deliciously into his skin through his silky dress shirt. Your head was rolled back as you just saw spots on the bathroom ceiling. Harry grunted lowly as he gave a few more thrusts before holding himself inside of you. He gently pulled his upper body back and tucked your hair behind your ear with one hand before plucking your thong out of your mouth with the other. “You alright?” He asked softly.

“Course.” You whispered with a smile. “Sorry for…kinda shoving you in here.” You chuckled breathily and he grinned.

“That’s alright. It’s not like I didn’t want to…” he hummed and you giggled before kissing him gently. Your kiss deepened and after a few minutes you were pulling apart when his phone started vibrating in his pocket. He sighed and ensured you were steady before stooping down to grab it. “It’s Ted.” He mumbled.

“Mmm…” you smirked and he chuckled. Ted was one of Harry’s friends who had moved out of state and returned for this wedding. They weren’t close according to Harry but Ted apparently had an entirely different perception of their friendship. You could’ve sworn he had a crush on him, but Harry didn’t think so because he was sure he was straight. Regardless of what Ted was, he was really intent on reconnecting with Harry and he’d agreed to go to the bourbon and cigar bar which would open after the toasts. “They’re probably about to open the bourbon bar.” You reminded him.

“God…I shouldn’t drink any more or we can’t get back to the hotel.”

“I’ll drive. I’ve only had three glasses of wine and don’t want more. With a little dancing later I’ll be good to go.” You assured him.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, honey.” You smiled and he leaned in to kiss you again, “Jus’not too much, ‘kay? I need you to fuck me again when we get back to the room.” You added and he smirked.

“Mmmm, if anything, being a little buzzed for it would make it better.” He said and you rolled your eyes, “You don’t believe me but you’ll see.”

“It’s just you do this thing where you try to find the sweet spot and when you arrive there you don’t hold off long enough before you start up again and next thing you know you’re passed out in my lap for an hour and my arms and chest are itching all over for the next week from being in the sun too long.” You explained. Harry might own a brewery but he was a complete lightweight when it came to alcohol.

“That was one time.” He chuckled.

“Actually, that was just one example. I’ve got five more.” You said with a smug smirk.

“Alright, I’ll be mindful, baby.” He appeased you.

“Thanks.” You hummed as you wiped your smeared lipgloss from around his mouth.

You quickly cleaned up and Harry got back into his trousers before you were rushing back to the reception tent. It had cooled down pleasantly and you were enjoying the short stroll back with Harry, hand in hand. As soon as you were within eye-shot of your assigned table Ted stood and waved you both down as if you’d been gone for ages or lost.

“He’s so fucking eager.” Harry mumbled as you approached the table.

“He missed you.” You said sweetly.

“I’m telling you, we weren’t that close so it’s a little weird.” Harry reiterated.

“It’ll be fine.” You said.

“Where’d you two wander off to?” Ted asked with a chuckle as soon as you two stepped up to the table.

“On a little stroll so we could make out.” Harry said as he squeezed over your hip and you scoffed before playfully rolling your eyes.

“Harry.” You mumbled and he just smirked down at you.

“That’s understandable.” Ted responded as he smiled at you when you looked over at him. When you realized that he had really just said that you chuckled a bit uncomfortably before averting your eyes and Harry was stunned into silence for a few seconds before you squeezed over his hand on your hip and he glanced down to you.

“Well ummm…have fun at the bourbon thing.” You said and he offered you a soft smile.

“Sure you don’t want to come?” He asked you.

“That’s alright.” You assured him and tip-toed to hug him. “Just take this man with you.” You whispered to him and Harry chuckled as he kissed your cheek.

“C’mon on Styles, no need for the formal send off! S’not like she’s gonna get snatched away.” Ted said and you were glad you were facing away from him because the face you made would give away your slight annoyance at this comment from Ted.

“Take him. Please.” You implored and he giggled before you two pulled away. As they headed off with Fabian, the other guy at your table, Ted briefly glanced back at you. You saw it from your peripheral vision.

“I think Ted’s got a crush on you.” The woman beside you, Gaia, said.

“Oh god…I thought he had a crush on Harry. I’ve been teasing him about it all evening.” You said and the other ladies giggled.

“It’s because you kinda look like his ex. She was like, the one that got away.” Heidi, the woman across the table explained.

“Oh…” you hummed in understanding.

“Yeah, so sorry about him. He’s not usually like that, he’s just had a bit much to drink.” She explained.

You could understand that, so you didn’t want to make too big of a fuss but it had made you a bit uneasy in the moment. When Harry returned almost an hour later he was pink in the cheeks with a dopey smile on his face, and lidded eyes. You couldn’t help but shake your head as he approached.

“Baby, lets dance.” He said as he extended his hand to you and you immediately stood and shrugged off his suit jacket and draped it over your bag on your chair before walking off with him.

Harry pulled you out onto the dance floor and you immediately started to sway to Tony Bennett’s rendition of “The Way You Look Tonight”. You were both singing softly as you swayed together, gazes glued to each others. You often felt lucky to have him as your husband and it was happening right now. You giggled before reaching up to grab his face and kiss him. Your lips met in a deep and loving kiss before parting.

“Love you, honey.” You mumbled and he pecked your lips again.

“Love you too.” He whispered. “So…Ted asked me if we would be open to a threesome.”

“Jesus.” You scoffed and he chuckled.

“So…is that a no?” He asked and you rolled your eyes at his feigned disappointment.

“Shut up…” you muttered and he laughed lowly.

“I actually almost hit him over it. Had to remind myself he’s piss drunk to stop myself.” He explained. “And well…don’t want to do anything to fuck up Darci and Tim’s big day.”

“Well, I’m proud of you for having that self control.” You smiled. “Besides, Ted’s not even my type.”

“I know. Too straight.” He said and you laughed aloud, disturbing the romantic environment of the dance floor. A few of the couples around you shot you irritated glares and you whispered an apology as Harry shook with laughter.

“Oh, you’re too funny, baby. That was very clever.” you assured him through your soft giggles.

“I know…” he said smugly. “It’s true though.” He said and you giggled.

“Would you ever want to do that? Have a threesome?” You asked quietly.

“My body tells me yes, but my gut says no.” he said, “I just don’t think I could handle it. I don’t want to see anyone else on you. And I would hate for you to see me with someone else like that.” He explained, “I just wouldn’t be able to enjoy myself.” He added.

“Yeah…same.”

“Why did you hesitate, then?” He called you out with a knowing grin and you giggled.

“I mean, I’d feel guilty fucking someone else in front of you. But I wouldn’t mind seeing you fuck someone else.” You explained.

“Oh…didn’t peg you as a cuck.” He chuckled and you scoffed. “Hey, that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re inadequate. It just means that it turns you on to watch me fuck someone else.” He explained.

“Oh…well, wouldn’t that actually make me a voyeur?”

“No, because it’s not watching anyone that turns you on. It’s that watching me fuck turns you on.”

“Oh…then yeah, you’re right.” You conceded and he smirked. “But it doesn’t even necessarily have to be fucking someone else. I mean, it’s just you. You turn me on. A lot.” You giggled, “To the extent that if you ever feel like getting yourself off around the house feel free to do so.” You said with a grin.

“Noted.” He smirked.

“You better not fall asleep tonight.” You warned him lowly. You were still very turned on and you needed more from him.

“I won’t.” He assured you and you tutted, “Honey, I won’t.” He insisted and you smiled.

“Okay…” you hummed with some reservation.

Sure enough, Harry passed out on the drive back to your hotel from the venue. It took nearly five minutes to get him lucid enough to get up to the room and washed up before he undressed and plopped into bed. When you finally got into bed after a quick shower, you leaned back into the mountain of pillows and turned on the TV. The noise seemed to make Harry gain some consciousness and he requested that you play with his hair. That’s how you ended up with Harry’s head on a pillow in your lap with your fingers threading through his thick curls as you mindlessly watched some Lucy Show reruns until you passed out.

After you and Harry hadn’t been as sexually active as before it wasn’t odd for you to have spicy dreams when you’d been left sexually frustrated. So when you felt a lovely little flame of pleasure licking away in the depths of your core you just eased into the feeling. You were teetering between being awake and asleep which made it feel all the more real. But when you felt your legs being parted by Harry’s hands you started to stir. And then, Harry was smooching down your stomach, making you a bit impatient as he hovered over your mons and continue nuzzling up against it as his fingers rubbed against the crotch of your shorts.

“Hurry up.” You mumbled groggily and he chuckled but proceeded to grip the band of your shorts and pulled them down. You helped him a bit by raising your hips and once they were out of the way he delved in eagerly. His tongue felt magnificent on you, it didn’t take long before your pussy was becoming all slick and fluttery with the things his mouth was doing to you.

Every inch of you was on high alert and feeling each and every wave of pleasure that started to ripple from your core and towards the rest of your body. The closer you got to your climax that more intense it felt until your muscles were growing tense and you reached the peak and then he waited a second too long and your almost orgasm slowly started to fizzle out. You couldn’t help but whine out at the loss, but it was just another second before he was back to your clit and flicking it over and over with his tongue until you were right there again, you were expecting it this time so it didn’t upset you as much, but you were still annoyed. Edging? At this hour? Especially when you had gone to bed so horny for him, it was criminal, but he could use you whenever and however he well pleased, so you decided to not complain about it until you couldn’t handle it any longer.

“Daddy, please…” you whined after your fourth almost orgasm. You were lamenting the loss as the euphoria just faded from your reach…all that potential gone.

“I’m going, honey. I’ve got an aching boner so m’not gonna last too long. I wanted to let you have your fun before I get in there. Still owe you for last night.” He reasoned and you smiled down at him.

“You are forgiven, just make me come.” You huffed.

Harry smiled before pressing himself up and well yeah, his cock was standing straight up, despite it’s size and weight. It was also looking a slightly painful shade of deep pink. Your mouth watered as he stroked his foreskin over his tip and then back down. You nearly whimpered as his lovely, fat tip came back into view. You wanted to suck on it until you were slurping the cum right out of him. You had always been a bit of a cum slut, but now that your hormones were acting more or less how they should, well your craving for his cum was something else entirely. You wanted to taste it, or feel it pooling at your lower tummy, or squirting on your face or breasts. You liked how much he came and how you could feel each twitch of his cock shooting it inside of you when he fucked you from the back. You loved how warm it was and how he did the most to ensure it tasted as good as it could for you. You love the consistency of it and got turned on by seeing it slowly oozing from your stretched out little hole. The thought of him busting inside of you made you so feral so you did not care if it was fast or not, you just wanted to feel him inside of you.

“How do you want me?” He asked you.

“Do it from behind.” You requested and you both grinned at each other before you flipped over.

Harry stuffed a pillow beneath your hips before guiding his hot and stiff cock between your slimy and warm folds a few times to let your arousal coat his cock. You were desperate to feel his girth stretching your entrance. And when he finally pushed the tip in you braced yourself for him to plunge the rest of the way in but he stopped. You could feel his fingers digging hard into your hips. You were just about to tell him to stop teasing but then your felt his cock start to twitch hard as a breathy and slightly distressed “fuck” slipped past his mouth.

“D-did you just come?” You asked in shock through a giggle and Harry groaned.

“Yep.” He admitted with a huff, “M’sorry hon, it just felt so good inside of you. Was edging myself for a while before I woke you.” He explained.

“Oh…well now you have to keep going ‘cause I haven’t come.” You said as you glanced back at him.

“I know.” He assured you, “Just…just gimme a minute here, it’s so sensitive!” He yelped and groaned before smacking your ass playfully. You had squeezed your walls nice and hard around his sensitive cock and it completely caught him off guard. You laughed a bit as you relaxed your muscles completely and he sighed in relief. “So fucking mean.” He grumbled. “Fuck you.” He chuckled lowly and you giggled again.

“I had to. S’pay back for last night.” You reminded him.

“This is me paying you back for last night.” He reminded.

“Really? Blowing your load the second you put it in?” You teased and he chuckled.

“Touché.” He replied and you grinned.

“S’alright, very amusing though. Just go slow.” You said softly and he hummed and pushed his length in a bit further into you before drawing out. You could feel him shivering a bit as he tried to keep himself composed but you loved that. “Give me more, daddy. Want to feel your big cock all the way inside. Love it when I’m stuffed with you.” You uttered seductively and he groaned as he fought against the sensitivity he was feeling in order to sink back inside your pussy.

You felt nothing but relief when Harry started setting a steady pace, still a bit slow for how horny you were so you started to push back to meet his thrusts. Then you wedged your hand between your body and the pillow and with your own movements started humping your clit against the heel of your palm to get some friction to the throbbing little bundle. Harry felt your hips moving beneath him and held still to allow you to take over and go at your pace. Your heart started to pound faster and your moans to climb in pitch with each prod of Harry’s fat, leaking tip to your g-spot.

“Oh fuck, you’re so good, daddy. Your cock is so good.” You slurred, starting to get drunk on the pleasure you felt simmering in your blood. He had pushed past the point of the sensitivity now and just needed to come again. He needed you to go faster, he was going to lose his damn mind.

“Faster, honey. Go a little faster for me.” He encouraged you and you started to shift back a bit faster.

Harry’s hands smoothed up the sides of your thighs and over your butt. He squeezed and groped a bit before gripping around your waist and then leaning forward to grab your jiggling breast in his right hand. You moaned as he started to tug and gently pinch your nipple. In moments your breath started to shallow as you started to approach your climax. That lovely pulsating feeling that was running through started to increase in intensity. Your body started to grow hotter and your limbs to tense. You moaned and let your upper body just fall into the pillows before you as you started to give in to the feelings. Harry watched the way your spine curved so beautifully as you kept your ass up for him. He watched your free hand clench the covers tightly while you played with your clit with your other hand. Harry groaned and reached into your hair, grabbing a fistful and gripping it tight to keep you in that position. He mustered up whatever strength he had left and pulled your ass tighter against his front as he plunged deep into your dripping cunt with the most brutal and unforgiving thrust. Your brain blanked for a moment and gasped as he you felt him collide with what to you felt like a totally new spot.

“Fuck me hard, daddy…Make me ache!” You supplicated and Harry moaned at the whiny tone of your voice and the light slur you spoke with.

With your body bent the way it was it was already a little hard to breathe, but he had effectively knocked more air out of you with that first thrust. He released your hair and gripped your hips hard as he continued his merciless domination of you as you rubbed your clit in quick but precise little swipes. Side to side, side to side. So fast that the tingle in your core started to travel down your legs until your toes were curling for a second as your body tensed up. Then you felt it traveling up, making your tummy and chest tighten impossibly. When the feeling finally made it to your head you completely lost yourself.

“I’m coming!” You gasped before you buried your face into the bed to muffle your lewd and uncontainable moans.

Your were feeling relief and ecstasy as your body rode this perfect wave of euphoria. It was so easy to overdo it and you had. Your legs had started to tremble but you couldn’t stop rubbing, it felt too good. Even more so with Harry giving you his cock as hard as he was. It hurt so good that you were drooling. You were going to come again. And surely enough, just moments later you shrieked in shock as Harry held you down on his cock while he started to come with a deep grunt. You were a goner in that moment, completely fucked out. The feeling of him being that deep all while you rubbed your clit past the point of comfort was making you dizzy as you came on his dick. He could feel your pussy throbbing hard around his girth, it was dragging out his orgasm. He needed more of you. He wiggled in a little deeper until he brushed again your cervix, you tensed up and then he pulled back before he did it again and again as you held so perfectly still but remained so tense at the overwhelming feeling. He then shifted a bit and laid over you and you gasped as this made him drive in as deep as was possible.

“T-too deep!” You winced and he smirked and dropped more of his weight over you causing you to whine lowly and tighten your fist around the covers again.

“You said t’make it ache. So that’s what I’m doing, baby.” He said lowly, lips swiping your shoulder before he planted a gentle smooch to your warm skin. He then dropped the rest of his weight over you and your eyes squeezed shut as your brain went blank in response. “You’re gonna feel me for days, baby. Thoroughly fucked. Cute little cunt all wrecked.” He mumbled and you nodded. “Pussy bred.” He added. You could hear the smirk in his voice and smiled as well.

“Thank you, daddy.” You mumbled, drunk on him and his cock and the cocktail of pleasant neurotransmitters firing around in your brain.

“You’re welcome, baby.” He hummed in satisfaction.

And as you laid there in the postcoital bliss you were glad that you’d be staying an extra day before flying back down to LA. You’d rented yourself a vintage luxury car for the weekend and were just treating this as a romantic getaway since you’d both been so busy lately. When you looked at the clock you saw that it was barely 7:30am, you had your first wine tasting reservation in a couple hours and then an early dinner planned before settling in the for the night since you’d be flying out the following morning. You had agreed to get really into this wine tasting afternoon when you’d booked it so you two had dressed up in a vintage, old-money aesthetic. Plus, driving the sleek, light blue, topless, 1963 Mercedes 300 SL roadster through the seemingly endless sea of vegetation really fed the aesthetic you were going for.

“God, I love California so fucking much. Never gonna leave.” Harry had said to you as he drove you two to your next destination.

Your had so much fun at your activities with Harry without a care in the world for anything else that was going on. It was just you two again talking, making memories, and sharing things you hadn’t gotten the chance to talk about yet. The way he ogled you and touched you and flirted with you was reminiscent of when he was first trying to get you to fall in love with him. All all throughout dinner he’d been asking about you and how you were doing now that you were working again and you had just finished telling him that you felt that it was going well and that you really liked all of your students.

“I’m glad your class is going well, baby. Just…don’t fuck a student.” He cautioned, “Bad idea.” He added lowly and your eyebrows furrowed.

“Okay…I’m gonna need to press for more information regarding this sudden, unsolicited advice?” You probed with a smile.

“I just…have experience in this area.”

“What?! Since when have you taught?” You asked him in surprise.

“Not me.” He scoffed, “Well, yes me, but I was the student.” He said. Your jaw dropped, you were genuinely gobsmacked for a few seconds. Learning that little Mr. Goodie-Two-Shoes here had fucked a teacher was not on your bingo card.

“I need you to tell me all of it.” You said with an excited grin when your brain finally proceeded the information. Harry chuckled but got to sharing the anecdote.

Apparently, during the summer before Harry’s second year at university he turned into the statuesque, god-like being he is now. All baby fat gone, bone structure and musculature carved immaculately by god herself. And in turn he got very confident very fast, he had said cocky, but you couldn’t picture Harry being unironically cocky. He then shared that he had been single for nearly a year after his first relationship and really just wanted to fuck so he got on an app and started seeking someone out. He was in a college town, it was a small community, so he lied and said he was not a student at the local university. And well, she lied about not being a professor at said university and they met up and hit it off quickly so they hooked up.

They were a consistent hook up, maybe once a month, two or three if they were particularly needy, but they had agreed it was just sex for a few reasons. First and foremost their age difference, she didn’t intend to be dating a teenager. He was 19 and she was 35. But as time went on she started to like him more. Suddenly she didn’t mind that he was 19, in fact, she found it more refreshing because he listened to her, respected her, and apparently men in their 30’s and 40’s could hardly keep it up for twenty minutes. They were a good match sexually and after five months of getting to know each other and hooking up she told him she was in love with him. Obviously, Harry let her down gently but she took it very hard. A few weeks of radio silence later she tried to start things up again, despite her knowing Harry had no deeper feelings for her. He rejected her multiple times because he didn’t want to lead her on but it was getting hard to because he really was attracted to her. So he was glad that school was starting up again and he’d be more busy and he’d have more excuses to avoid her.

That was all going to plan until the Thursday evening of the first week of school. Harry shared that he hadn’t been paying too much attention when he’d walked into the lecture hall because he was walking in right at starting time. He quickly found a seat in the aisle seat of the second row since everything else was quite full. He still had one AirPod in as he waited for the last minute of his podcast episode to end as he started to settle in and unpack his things. Simultaneously, she had started going down the class roster so he hadn’t clearly made out her voice either, he had the time anyway since his surname started with S. Harry recalled that he had just glanced up to the front of the class at the sound of his name and when their eyes met she just froze for a moment before glancing down at the sheet in her hand again. She apparently barely got through his name from the mere shock and mortification of it all. Apparently after that class ended she resigned, so he had no idea what had come of her.

“Jesus…you’re a whole ass career ruiner!” You exclaimed and he nodded.

“Yeah. See, bad idea.” He reiterated.

“Welp, there’s not any cute students in my class anyway. Well…maybe they are cute, but just cute, you know? They look so small and juvenile, s’not really my type anymore. I quite like how manly you are.” You said and he chuckled.

“You mean mature.” He said and you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, that too I guess. But regardless, you do it for me just fine.” You assured him and he smirked.

“That’s what I like to hear.” He hummed before kissing the top of your hand. “Look, I know that we’ve been a little distant lately.” He started, “But I will make more time for us.”

“Well, we’ve both been busy and-”

“It’s not that.” He said and your brows creased as you nodded, urging him to finish, “I know that we’re trying to start a family, but when we’ve had sex I feel like I’ve just been using you.” He expressed and you pouted, “Like yesterday, it’s been all fast and spontaneous, like whenever the opportunity arises. And I know you gave me the permission to do that but because I’ve been so busy it just feels…different.” He explained, “It’s hot, I mean it always is with us, but I want to be more intentional about it. Specially when we’re also doing it to make a family together.” He said and you smiled. “So I will try to be more present and to make more effort for us.” He promised.

“Thank you, baby. But believe me, I understand that what you’re doing with this expansion is also for our future.” You assured him and he smiled and nodded. “Like, I know it’s also for your self-fulfillment and with your own beers it’ll be something you’re doing for fun too, but that’s alright with me. Seeing you happy professionally is also important to me.”

“Thank you for being so supportive and understanding, my love. As always.” He smiled and you squeezed his hand in yours.

In the end, this is what you loved about your relationship with Harry and also why your marriage worked. You were both so considerate of each other, so thoughtful. You had no idea when you would finally get pregnant, but you were just so excited for it because Harry would be the most incredible dad. He showed you every single day how much love lived inside of him, you were certain it would be boundless with your baby whenever they came.

…. A COUPLE MONTHS LATER ….

Harry had kept his word and did prioritize making more time for the two of you. You’d decided to do a sort of book-club thing together. You both read the same book and would have a date every Thursday night to talk about it and how your week had been going. You usually helped out at the brewery on the weekends, but had started to do more of that in the last few weeks since Harry was starting to work the flavor profiles for his beers and was quite consumed with that a lot of the time. Like this particular weekend, Harry was out visiting a few brewing labs around so-cal with Jeremy and you had stayed behind to run the brewery.

On Monday though, he would have the opportunity to make a small sample batch of possible types of beers and flavors he wanted at one of the labs. You were bummed about missing this part of Harry’s process but you had an appointment to check your hormone treatment that you could not miss. Any imbalance in hormones could tip you back into not ovulating as you were supposed to and you didn’t want to risk that which he fully understood, so you both agreed that you were okay with missing these things for each other.

Your appointment was early so that you could get back home and hop on zoom for a few hours to hold some virtual office hours and grade a bit. You were just waiting for Dr. Zelaya to come in and when she finally did with a big smile you immediately perked up.

“Y/N, guess whaaaat?” She sang as she came in and closed the door behind her.

“It worked?” You asked with an excited smile and she nodded.

“Oh, it worked! You’re pregnant!” She shared with an excited smile and your jaw dropped.

“I am?” You asked in disbelief.

“You are, lovely. ” She confirmed and your eyes immediately welled up.

“Oh my god!” You finally exclaimed and cried tears of joy. Dr. Zelaya chuckled as she grabbed the tissue box and handed it to you “That’s such excellent news!” You sniffled through your chuckles of excitement.

“Yes. Congratulations! Now, if you don’t have more time today we can set another appointment for an ultrasound and see how far along things are. But if you can push things off I had a cancellation for 11:30 and can squeeze you in?” She offered.

“Oh yeah, I’ll come back! Besides, I skipped breakfast because I woke up late.” You confessed.

“Happens to the best of us.” She assured you. “So I’ll let the nurse know you’ll be back in a little while. And may I recommend you try the Marmalade Cafe, it’s on Ventura, right after Kester. They have a delicious chorizo Benedict, there’s a vegan chorizo option too if you’re of my persuasion.”

“Ooh, I’m not vegan but you guys do seem to have some the best foods.” You said and she giggled.

“Yeah, things have gotten really impressive on that front.” She nodded as she finished typing a few things on the computer. “Alright, I’ll see you back in about 2 hours for your first ultrasound. Will your husband join?”

“He’s actually out of town on a business trip. But I want to have pictures for him for when he gets back tonight.” You explain.

“Oh, he’ll love that. What a nice surprise for him to come home to.”

“Exactly.” You added with a smile. You chatted a bit more before you headed off.

It was genuinely so hard for you not to call Harry right away and tell him the good news, you were bursting at the seams. You also wondered how everything at the flavor trials was going, you were genuinely disappointed that you were missing such an important milestone in this process for him. He really wanted you to be a part of this because despite being married to him, you weren’t necessarily a beer girly. So he had said that he’d want your input on the three beers he wanted to have so that he could get a novice’s critiques on the beers. He also really valued your input as his life partner and you often helped him ask the difficult questions and things of that sort. Not that he wasn’t able to stick up for himself, but he never wanted to come off as insecure or maybe even difficult to work with, but you were so diplomatic about everything that he loved when you’d bring up the difficult or challenging things before he did. Regardless, you wanted to make up for not wanting to reschedule this appointment and this would definitely be the best thing to share with him to make it up.

Before you knew it you were back at the doctor’s office and watching the monitor with tearful eyes again as the doctor pointed out the embryo to you.

“I’d say you’re about six, almost seven weeks along.” She shared with you and you nodded, “Have your periods been more or less regular?”

“Yeah, they vary a bit with the medication but honestly I have just been so busy that I lost track of my cycle this time around.” You explained.

“Okay, just making sure.” She said, “Everything is looking as it should. I know you’ve been taking such good care of yourself, so keep that up, s’good for the future baby.” She said and you nodded with a smile.

Once you had your photos printed you headed off to get a dessert to share with Harry and a little picture frame for your sonogram picture. You were sure he’d want to keep his copy with him so you’d just break the news to him with your copy. You were just getting in when you saw Harry, freshly showered and making himself a sandwich in the kitchen as you came in from the garage.

“Baby, hi!” He greeted you cheerfully.

“Hi!” You greeted with a bright and surprised smile, “What are you doing here?” You asked happily as you put everything down and hurried over to hug and kiss him quickly.

“We got to the tasting and I just couldn’t do it without you there. It just didn’t feel right to start the process without you. I rescheduled for two weeks from now and we can make a little weekend out of it? We went to this incredible sushi restaurant that I know you will die for.” He said and you giggled.

“Speaking of beer and sushi…” you said through a small chuckle, “I have some good news for you.” You teased and he smiled wide.

“Your treatment is going better than expected?” He asked and your brows raised.

“More than…” you said with a smile, “I’m pregnant!” You shouted with a huge smile and Harry’s features softened.

“Honey…” he said tenderly as he came up to you, “Yeah?” He asked for confirmation as he grabbed your face gently and you nodded. Your eyes started to well up when you saw the tears forming in his own eyes.

“Yeah. You’re gonna be a dad, H.” You confirmed and he dipped down to kiss you deeply before pulling back to hug you and hold you close.

“Oh, you just made my whole fucking year. My whole fucking life…” he hummed “I’m so happy I don’t even know what to say.” He chuckled as he swayed your bodies a bit and you laughed.

“I mean, same! I was so surprised when the doctor told me. It was very unexpected.” You explained through a happy giggle as you rubbed over his back, “I bought a slice of chocolate cake and framed a picture of the sonogram for you to see. Had a whole thing planned since I thought you were getting in later.” You disclosed and he let you go to allow you to grab the image of the sonogram. When you handed it over to him his tears definitely started to fall.

“I don’t even know what the fuck I’m looking at but I just know they’re already perfect.” He said through his sniffles and you laughed and then brought your hand up to the image.

“It’s right…shit, was it this thing or this one?” You questioned as you pointed between two different areas on the sonogram.

“Baby…” he huffed.

“I’m kidding! It’s this little smudge. I’m almost seven weeks along.” You shared as he set it down and then picked you up and spun you around happily as it finally hit him. You shrieked as your sandals were flung off by him spinning you.

“We did it!” He chanted a few times as you spun before he set you down on the counter. “Oh baby, you’re going to be phenomenal. Everyone at the brewery is going to be so happy when they see your bump coming in!” He said as he squeezed your thighs in excitement, “And well, I mean, I don’t care what we’re having, I just want to buy stuff and look at baby names immediately!”

“We can do all that.” You giggled as he started to get a bit hyper over this but he was just so fucking pleased with the news. “We’re gonna be good at this.” You said softly and he nodded.

“Undoubtedly so.” He hummed as you ran your thumb over his cheek bone. “You’re really pregnant.” He chuckled again in slight disbelief. “I’m over the moon. I feel like I have super powers, like I could fly.” He chuckled.

“Please do not test that theory.” You joked and he sniggered.

“And here I thought I already loved you as much as I could.” He hummed and you grinned.

“Wait until we meet the baby.” You said and he sighed and smiled.

“It’s going to be so cool.” He hummed and you nodded and then your smile faded a bit.

“Thank you for being patient.”

“Oh, no…” he said, “Like any of that was in your control…”

“Well, if I had just listened to you from the beginning and gone to get checked we would’ve caught this sooner.” You acknowledged and he shook his head.

“None of that…it happened when it was supposed to. If it had happened sooner you’d be in the middle of that while we’re in the middle of this expansion. It would’ve been a lot of stress to deal with. I mean, maybe I would’ve even passed up on the opportunity if you were pregnant when they offered the unit to me.” He said and you sighed, “Besides, it can be scary to go and get these things checked out. There’s always a risk of receiving bad news and that’s anxiety-inducing. I understand, baby. But we finally did it.” He said and you nodded before kissing him deeply.

Harry wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer. Your legs wrapped around his body and you slightly pulled back from his lips.

“Baby?”

“Yeah, my love?” He asked.

“Can we eat the cake now?” You asked with a little grin and he chucked.

“Yeah, we can eat the cake.”

“I just have a simple request.”

“Shoot. Anything for m’girl.” He said with a smile.

“Put it in the microwave for like 20 seconds. Like when it’s all warm and melty.” You said and Harry smirked.

“You know what I like all warm and melty?” He said suggestively and you giggled and kissed him slowly for a moment.

“Promise me we’ll be like this with each other forever?” You asked and he smiled, “Kids can be great but they can also change things with us.” You pointed out.

“You’re right.” He agreed, “But I want you to know that to me, you’re the top priority. Always.” He shared and your gaze softened, “Everything I do, I do with you in mind.” He shared, “I exist because you do.” He said and your heart melted in your chest as he said this, “And as long as you’re alive I will choose you every day. I’ll always be in love with you.” He assured you and as your glossy eyes met his you saw his sincerity and believed him. You grabbed his jaw and pulled him in for a searing kiss before pulling back, “Believe me, we were meant to do this together.” He assured you and in that moment you knew everything was going to be alright.

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soupydumplingss · 6 months ago

Text

So what a man gotta do? ~ OP⁸¹

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader

Short note: Reader has no idea that Oscar is a famous guy. Oscar can't handle babies to save his life. Reader is an overworker. The plot feels cliché but I am very unoriginal/j

Warnings: Light profanities, bickering

Summary: You are an overworked corporate freak. You were on business to Monte Carlo, Monaco. You were trying to enjoy a good breakfast, not hear some F1 racer's baby niece crying.

..........................................................................................

You were in your hotel bed, sprawled up between the sheets. It was a sleepless night. A ray of sunshine penetrated your room from a tiny creak of a window and hit your face. Your phone alarm rang loudly, echoing through the room. You were annoyed.

"End my misery, good God," you huffed, annoyed.

You had no choice but to wake up. Your stomach was growling. As you tried to get out of your bed, you accidentally tripped and fell on your butt.

What a way to start the day, you thought.

You stepped into the large bathroom of your hotel room to freshen up. The morning seemed to run slow and lazy. You looked at yourself in the mirror while brushing your teeth. The eyebags under your circles had visibly darkened a lot more from overworking. You couldn't help but still think about work.

Man, I still have another program left. Why didn't the code compile? Did I write any statement wrong? Or was it the argument?

You were lost in your own sea of thoughts. You were pulled back to reality when your stomach growled again. The tap was running endlessly. You quickly freshened up and took a quick shower. You wrapped yourself in a bathrobe and got out of the bathroom. Shivers ran down your spine at the air circulating in the room, hitting the areas the bathrobe couldn't cover. You quickly wore an oversized t-shirt and a pair of jeans to head out for breakfast to a cafe.

Phone, check. Purse, check. Laptop in backpack, check.

You went downstairs at the reception to check out for some time. The receptionist flashed you a polite smile. You were headed to Café de Paris. The streets of Monte Carlo in the morning was a sight for sore eyes. Gentle breezes blew and hit your face every now and then. The road wasn't very busy.

"Taxi!"

You waved your hand at a taxi to take a ride to your destination.

"Où voulez-vous aller, madame?,The driver asked politely. where do you want to go, miss?

"Café de Paris. Combien cela coûterait-il?," you asked to make sure the driver got his pay and you reached your destination properly. cafe de paris. how much would that be?

"65€, madame."

You got inside the taxi to get to the cafe. The ride on the way there was pleasant. The rolled-down calm window allowed the occasional zephyr to hit your face ever so gently. The view of Monte Carlo was nothing short of an amazement. The lavish buildings, infrastructures, the hoard of luxury cars: Nothing about Monte Carlo was less than class and elegance.

You are drawn out of your reverie as the taxi suddenly stops. You stepped out of the car and paid the driver. Stepping into the café, your senses are overwhelmed by the smell of pungent caffeine, freshly baked goods, savories and drinks. The bright sunlight filters through the windows, bathing the room in a soft light. In the corner, you spotted an empty table. It was located near the wall of the café. A waiter appears nearby. He asks if he could assist you, and you inform him that you are looking for a table for one. The waiter escorted you to your table. He was waiting for your order. The light from the sun beamed through the window and hit his face as he took the order.

"One espresso, one chocolate chaud, le wrap saumon, and one tranche de cake. Will that be all?" The waiter asked, smiling.

"Yes, that will be all", you replied.

"It will be out in a few minutes", the waiter said as he walked away.

You were peacefully enjoying your breakfast in the cafe, enjoying the atmosphere and the taste of her delicious food. As you were eating, you suddenly heard the sound of a wailing and whining baby coming from the table behind you. A guy was trying desperately to comfort the baby, but the baby was only becoming more distressed and loud. You could feel your blood pressure rising, as you grew frustrated at the guy's inability to control the baby.

The child sounded hungry. Despite not being a mom yourself, you well knew how to handle and understand babies.

This guy is gonna get it from me.

You were getting visibly angry, and you turned to the guy and said, "I can't believe you can't handle your own baby!"

The guy, clearly frustrated by the situation and your anger, said, "I'm doing my best, but this baby is just so needy and always crying." The voice had a unique timbre to it, Australian accent rolling out.

You rolled your eyes and said, "You should have thought about that before having a baby. You're the father. Why are you so clueless?"

The guy was now getting annoyed and said, "Not like you're the mother. What's your problem? You should have some empathy."

You continued to bicker with the guy about his inability to handle the baby. The guy was beginning to become defensive, and said, "It's not my baby, it's-"

You became angrier, and said, "How dare you deny your own child?! Who do you think you are?!"

The guy realized that you were under the impression that he was the baby's dad. He smirked slightly in amusement before continuing, "You really don't know who I am?"

You looked at him in confusion and frustration. "And who are you sir?" You took in his features. He seemed tall, around 5'10. Maybe a centimeter or two taller. The guy looked athletic with dark blonde hair. Your eyes raked on him, head to toe. He has a strong jaw and large deep set blue eyes. He has a lean, muscular frame, with well-defined muscles on his arms and shoulders, and strong legs. He definitely wasn't hard on the eyes.

He noticed you eyeing him head-to-toe and smirked in amusement. He looked at you and spoke with slight arrogance. "I'm Oscar Piastri."

"Oscar Pastry? Who the fuck names their son 'Pastry?'"

"Piastri!," he interjected.

"Pastry or whatever, have some shame. You can't handle your own child." You rolled your eyes.

He was amused at your reaction. The fact that you didn't know anything about him made the situation funnier.

The baby started crying louder. As the verbal dispute escalated, other guests in the café began to look at them and whisper to each other. Some of them were trying to suppress their laughter at the sight of the F1 driver and the angry girl.

Oscar stood up from his seat and towered you. He countered, saying, "You think I'm not trying? Try sitting in my place and see how you handle the situation then!"

"If it's gonna shut your mouth then so be it!"

You took the baby in your arms and rocked it slowly.

"Boy or a girl?"

"Girl..." he looked at you wide-eyed. How easily you calmed his niece down. Though he was not ready to tell you right now that it's his niece, not his daughter...

"Name?"

"Ollie."

"Like from Oggy and the Cockroaches?"

"Shut the fuck up." He deadpanned. He looked at his now calm niece. He looked at you being gentle with her. He got weird butterflies seeing you like that. He saw how...motherly you are. Ollie was smiling in your arms and all giggly.

"Milk."

"Huh?" he snapped out of his thoughts.

"Milk, Pastry." You emphasized the stupid nickname to rile him up.

"It's Piastri." he rolled his eyes as he handed a bottle of milk from his backpack. "What's your name?"

"Y/N L/N."

"Ahhh I see...Nice name..." The name rolled off his tongue in a way that you liked.

You rocked Ollie in your arms slowly. Ollie was cooing cutely which made you smile. You fed the infant from the bottle as she peered up at you with her big, doe eyes. Oscar was looking at you in amazement at how easily you calmed his niece. He was smiling slightly at the sight in front of him.

"You know, you'd be a great mother..." he said with a slight chuckle.

"That came outta nowhere," you said. You chuckled in a breath, blushing at the comment. He noticed your flustered expression and smiled. He had a cheeky smile on his face.

"So, what brings you to Monaco?," he asked out of pure curiosity.

"Work," you sighed.

"What do you do for a living?," he asked.

"Software developer. I'm here to present our company's new project to our potential collaborator," you explained. He was listening to you carefully and nodded slightly in respect.

"You're very smart for a pretty girl," he said with a teasing smirk.

"And what does that mean?," you raised an eyebrow. You looked down and saw a now peacefully asleep Ollie in your arms. You carefully took out the bottle of milk from his mouth.

"Just that beauty and brains is a deadly but rare combination," he said with a playful shrug. You snickered.

"Pacifier." You extended your hand towards him to take the pacifier he'd hand you.

"You're a natural at this stuff," he muttered softly.

"Okay okay I get it. What do you do for a living though?"

"Wait— you don't know?" Oscar was genuinely surprised that you didn't know who he was. He was pretty famous after all, but you seemed to be completely oblivious.

"Am I supposed to know ya?" You scratched your head in confusion. He chuckled at your lack of knowledge on this.

"I'll give you a hint. I drive in weird shapes for living." He grinned as he waited for an answer.

"Drive in weird shapes?" You started pondering.

Well, he said weird shapes. Driving, the roads aren't of a specific shape so...

"You're a taxi driver?"

"What the—" He burst out laughing at your answer.

"What? Did I get it wrong?" Your cheeks flushed pink, a hint of embarrassment creeping up.

"You said you drive in weird shapes and roads aren't exactly always straight so I assumed..."

"Search my name on Google, dummy." He had a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Uhm...sure?" You rolled your eyes and took out your phone. You typed with one hand while rocking Ollie in your arms. Surely he isn't any hotshot, right? Your eyes widened at the search results.

"Okay. No words." Your eyes darted from the pictures on your phone and him, your mind processing he was a Formula 1 driver and you had no idea all this time.

"Surprise sweetie." He ran his fingers through his head. Your eyes went on the first picture that popped up. A race win in Hungary...

"You still can't babysit your daughter." You retorted to mask the surprise on you face.

But Google didn't show any wife or girlfriend or children on his profile. Where'd he even get this girl from?

"Sorry to break your little bubble but that's my niece. I'm no father." He chuckled.

"No wonder. I thought G.oogle was inaccurate." I nodded slowly. But I immediately bit back. "Still can't babysit to save your life."

"So what a man gotta do?" Oscar asked with a grin.

You chuckled exasperatedly and shook your head. "So, how can I teach you?"

"Come to Australia sometime." He smiled.

Can't believe I'm gonna have to teach a world-class Formula 1 driver on how to babysit his niece.

..................................................................................................................

IN HONOUR OF THE GREAT OSC PASTRY WINNING THE HUNGARIAN GRAND PRIX WITH A BROKEN RIB (ill pretend like it wasn't a maiden win and he lost the thrill of winning himself 😔💔) I had this in my drafts for a good amount time 😭 here's when I serve 😋

#Spotify #oscar piastri #op81 #op81 x reader #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fanfic #f1 #f1 x reader #mclaren #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #alternate universe #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff imagine #fluff #oscar piastri fluff

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perlelune · 11 months ago

Text

Sippy Cup | Coriolanus Snow

The war never left you, so you find a way to cope. One where you never lost your childhood. One where the world is still pure and safe. And Coriolanus can't resist that innocence.

Warnings: NON-CON, Dd/lg, Little!Reader, Innocence Kink, Mentions of war, PTSD, Manipulation, Age Regression, Capitol!Reader

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

The first time Coriolanus catches you and Tigris playing Tea Party, you expect to find disdain in his eyes, mockery perhaps. Instead, another emotion blooms in the blond’s cerulean gaze. Curiosity.

It happens on a sweltering Tuesday afternoon, the sizzling summer rays spilling through the half-drawn lace curtains of your bedroom. As usual, you and Tigris are sitting across from each other with Teddy occupying the third seat between the two of you. He is being his sassy self, of course, complaining about the sitting arrangement and wanting more tea cakes on his plate. You scold him, reminding him what happened the last time he went on a sugar high. Teddy’s eyes are much bigger than his stomach.

Nervousness slithered through you when you confessed your secret to Tigris. You didn’t want to, initially. You missed several days of class at the Capitol University in a row and your best friend grew concerned enough to show up at your house unannounced. She found you right here, playing with your dolls and chatting with your bear.

You explained to her that the pressure to be big is too much sometimes, that instead of shaking and crying on the floor of the girls’ bathroom, you come here. Once you enter your bedroom, every single woe vanishes. Your head is empty and your heart is full. You’re a carefree, happy little girl once more.

To your surprise, there isn’t a shred of judgment in Tigris’ eyes when you tell her. She never utters a single bad word about the neat rows of dolls and plushies adorning your shelves, your soft pink walls, your frilly dresses or the ribbons in your hair. When you reveal your little secret to her, what you did to ward off the nightmares, she simply listens, hands on her chest as her blue eyes fill with tears. You tell her the pink helps erase the red. The same red that splattered across the pavement when your parents and brother’s bodies hit the ground during the First Rebellion. You were still holding your brother’s hand when he fell. You held it even as his palm grew cold and stiff against yours. If it weren’t for the Snow cousins prying your weeping form off his that day, you might have stayed there and met the same fate.

Tigris gave you the warmest hug. Then she asked if she could play with you, if that’d cheer you up. You were ecstatic. Since that day, Tigris would play dolls with you, attend your tea parties and even fill out your coloring books with you sometimes. You never have to pretend with Tigris. Don’t have to pretend to be a big girl. Or speak long, complicated words. Or care about big, important things. You can just be a princess in her pink castle.

It’s why ice scatters in your veins when Coriolanus watches you and Tigris from the ajar door.

“You weren’t coming home, so I came to check on you,” he mumbles as he takes in the scene before him. Your face heats beneath Coriolanus’ wide-eyed stare.

Alarm flickers over Tigris’ face.

“You need to learn to knock, Coryo,” she chides. She whispers a gentle apology to you before getting to her feet. She nudges Coriolanus outside of your bedroom and they head to the bottom of the stairs.

Eavesdropping is bad; you know it. Good little girls don’t peep or listen through the door. But you can’t help it. Heart in your throat, you try to hear the whispered conversation between Tigris and her cousin. You only catch snippets. Your best friend’s voice is a little harsher than you’re used to, like she’s a bit upset.

Don’t you dare make fun of her.

She needs this, Coryo.

Stark blue eyes lock with yours from afar. Your heart slams against your ribcage. You hastily shove the door closed, rushing back to your pink wooden chair.

You pick up Teddy and cradle him against your chest. “Coryo is our friend,” you remind him. “He wouldn’t make fun of us.” Teddy is uncharacteristically quiet. You feel tears rush to your eyes, your bear’s doubts starting to creep into you.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

The deep voice rolling over you yanks you from your thoughts. Your head whips up. Coriolanus’ hunkering at your side, his head tilted in inquiry. You glance past his shoulder. Tigris is standing behind her cousin with her arms folded, her wary gaze glued to his form.

“Join us?” you repeat, dazed by his question.

The corners of the blond’s lips lift.

“Yes, it’s a tea party, isn’t it?”

Your gaze bulges. You never expected to hear such words spilling from Coryo’s mouth. He’s always so serious, so very serious, having no time for games. He’s been like that for as long as you can remember.

You wipe your tears and sniffle.

A little defensive, you clutch fistfuls of your pink dress.

“Tea parties aren’t for boys. They’re for princesses,” you state curtly.

Coriolanus’ expression softens as he considers you.

“Then I could be a knight, from a visiting kingdom.” You purse your lips, brows knitting. The blond’s warm breath caresses your ear as he bends over you, “Knights protect princesses.”

You mull it over. It’d be nice to have someone watch over you and Teddy, make sure no rebels storm your castle walls, paint your heart-covered walls red. You pluck your teddy bear from his stool and question him.

“What do you think, Teddy?” A very serious conversation silently occurs between you and your plushie. After a few minutes, you hum and nod, agreeing with him. Your eyes rise to meet Coryo’s. “Teddy says he’s okay with it.”

A bright smile unfurls on Coriolanus’ handsome face.

“That’s wonderful, princess.”

Over time, Coriolanus’ visits grow more frequent. He even gets into the habit of bringing you gifts, like new plushies and sugary treats. Despite your reluctance to include him because he’s a boy and boys can be mean and smelly, the time you spend with him is always a highlight in your day. Coryo is never smelly; he smells like the flowers in the Grandma’am’s garden and fresh pine. And he’s not mean. He never fails to be sweet to you, bowing to you and kissing your hand like a knight would, and always embracing every one of your games.

He becomes a fixture in your weekly tea parties, often accompanying Tigris or showing up when she’s too busy at the workshop to make it.

Somehow he always finds time for you, even if you know he’s so busy with important, grown-up things. You’re delighted. While playing alone is fun, your imagination knowing no bounds, it’s always better with a friend.

Today is one of these days. It’s just you and Coryo hanging out in your bedroom. He spends most of the evening handing you crayons while you color in the new picture book he got you, a comfortable silence swaddling the both of you. Coryo appears content just observing you, a peaceful smile hovering on his lips. The book is full of beautiful drawings of birds and landscapes. You never had one this nice so you were beyond thrilled to start coloring it.

When the sky gets darker outside your window, you sit up. You turn to Coryo.

“It’s getting late. I guess it’s time for the tea party to end. It was lovely of you to visit us, Sir Coriolanus and we hope-”

“Tigris said you were having nightmares,” he interrupts.

You go still, the crayons between your fingers clattering to the floor.

“That was a secret,” you mutter, your chest clenching. Why would Tigris tell him that? She’s your best friend. She should keep all your secrets forever. As you simmer in disappointment, Coryo places his fingers under your chin and lifts it. Your tearful gaze meets his.

“You can trust me too, princess,” he assures softly.

As you drown in his gaze, you get lost in a memory. Suddenly all the pink in your room is gone. Unmoving bodies. Gaping mouths. Hollow eyes.

Bright red ribbons flowing from their mouths. Crimson confetti popping from their bellies.

Everything in your vision becomes red.

You curl against the edge of the bed and close your eyes.

Hands on the side of your head, you take a deep breath. You slowly open your eyes again. You focus on the plushies sitting on your shelves until the somber clouds over your thoughts turn into cotton candy again.

You coax a shaky smile onto your lips.

“I don’t want to talk about it. Can we just play?”

He chuckles.

“It’s too late for games, princess. Isn’t it your bedtime by now?”

“Then I guess you should go, Coryo,” you say, resting your chin against your knees.

Coriolanus pauses, studying you for a while.

His next words are barely above a whisper.

“Or I could stay.” His large hand drapes over yours, covering your knees. “I could sleep in your bed with you.”

Shocked that he’d even suggest such a thing, you gasp.

“Boys and girls don’t sleep in the same bed,” you mumble.

He cocks his head, amusement swimming in his blue eyes.

“But I’m not a boy. I’m your knight, remember?”

Happiness flows through you with this reminder.

“Yes, you are,” you chime.

His fingers slowly drag over your joined knees.

“Actually…I could be more than your knight, princess.” His gaze locks with yours. “I could be your daddy.”

Your forehead creases, confusion mounting inside you.

“My daddy?”

His lips twist in an uneven smile.

“Yes…daddies protect their little girls. Just like knights.” His fingers drift down to your ankle, the warmth of his touch seeping through your thigh high socks. “They don’t let anyone hurt their pretty princesses. And they keep the nightmares and monsters away at night.”

Amazement colors your tone with this knowledge.

“Really?”

“Of course.” He cups your cheek. “I could sleep in the bed with you and keep my little girl safe that way.”

“I could even tell you a bedtime story.”

Your eyes light up. “A bedtime story?”

He fondles your cheek, his expression softening.

“Of course, anything for my sweet little girl.”

You climb into bed, your entire body shaking in anticipation. Coryo removes his shoes. He picks a book from your shelf and joins you on the bed. He gets under the covers with you and tucks your head against his chest. He opens the book to the first page, his tone patient and clear as he begins to read the tale to you. Your lids sag as you relax against Coryo, his fingers absently stroking the top of your head. You get engrossed in the story of a princess who gets lost on her way home. Lulled by his deep voice, you sink into sleep before the story’s even done.

For the first time in a while, a dreamless slumber welcomes you that night.

When Coryo’s tall frame slips through your door that day, hope twitches inside your chest.

Tigris promised she’ll come today. She’s canceled on you so much lately and expressed how awful she feels about it, so you have been looking forward to seeing her again.

For some reason, work has been exceptionally busy these last few weeks. And while you understand how important work is to your best friend, you’ve missed her so much.

However as he clicks the door shut and you realize no one’s trailing behind Coriolanus, your shoulders slump.

The faint hope you harbored withers away.

“I thought Tigris was coming today.”

Coriolanus sighs as he inches towards you.

“I know princess…” He plucks your hands from your lap. “But there was an emergency at the dress shop. It’s gonna keep her the whole night.” His lips graze the back of your hand. “I’m sorry, she said it was more important than being here.”

Your mouth flies open.

More important than being here? Coryo’s words drive a dagger through your chest, his sympathetic expression twisting it even more.

You lower your head. Tigris has had a lot of emergencies lately. You hardly spend any time together anymore. Part of you even wonders if maybe she’s sick of playing with you. After all, Tigris is a big girl with many things to do. You know she dreams of becoming a stylist and that’s likely more important than silly little girl games. You swallow the tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

Coryo cradles your face.

“But daddy’s here to play with you.”

Your voice trembles as you quell a sob. You look at him, warmth flowing through your chest. Your daddy’s right. You have no reason to be sad. After all, he’s with you. Just like he’s held you against him so many times in the last few weeks, reading you stories to help you fall asleep, and cheering you up whenever you felt sad, you can always count on your daddy.

“That’s amazing, daddy.”

His eyes seem to flare with an idea.

“Actually I thought we could play a new game today.”

Curiosity widens your gaze. “A new game?”

Coryo pulls you closer, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

“Yes.” He pauses before revealing slowly, “It’s called ‘Mommy and Daddy’, princess.”

“Mommy and daddy?” Your brows squeeze together in confusion. “Tigris and I have never played that before.”

Coryo licks his lips, his gaze running over you.

“It’s a special game between daddies and their little girls,” he explains, his tone lower than before.

“I don’t know it.”

A deep chuckle parts from his lips. You frown, not understanding what’s so funny.

“I know you don’t, sweet girl,” he says. fondling your cheek. A tilted smile blooms on his lips. “It’s okay because Daddy can teach you all about it.”

You feel nothing but complete trust as Coriolanus nudges you backwards until your knees hit the edge of the bed. You look up at him, a mix of confusion and curiosity written on your features. He smiles at you, sinking to his knees to remove your shoes.

You watch him do it, wondering why they need to be off for the game. Your daddy’s palm lingers on the sole of your socked feet, his finger traveling upward, dragging over your ankle.

His eyes look a little weird now, though you can’t explain in what way. You frown, the air around you growing colder.

Did you forget to close the window?

He crawls over you, pushing you down on the mattress. Coriolanus’ smell surrounds you and your nose twitches. You’re not used to being so close to him. You can make out every detail of his handsome face, trace every one of his long lashes, and distinguish every line on his face.

He scrutinizes your form beneath him, one hand beside our head while the other sweeps under your thigh.

“What’s going on, daddy?” you ask, your voice trembling.

“It’s a game that’s easier played on a bed, princess.”

You give a nod of understanding. He strokes the side of your face, pride lacing his tone.

“Such a good girl.”

He bends his head against your shoulder. You hold your breath, a little uncomfortable for a reason you can’t place. Daddy drops a kiss at the base of your neck. Goosebumps spark on your skin. His kisses go lower and lower, his large hands following the same path.

When his fingers land between your legs, your eyes go wide with confusion.

“D-Daddy, what are you doing?”

A soft gasp leaves you as he begins to rub your cotton panties.

“There’s a special place where daddies touch mommies,” he whispers. He clutches at your center and the breath dies your throat. Your body gets hotter, your belly tightening as he pinches you in a particular spot. Coriolanus’ fingers go up and down. It both hurts and doesn’t hurt. Twisting and pulsing in a foreign way the more he touches you. Overwhelmed by the feeling spreading all the way to your toes, you cling to his arms for support.

His blue eyes are glued to your squirming frame as he traces circles around that little spot that leaves you feeling strange.

The hand besides your head moves, drifting to unbutton his pants. Your heart skips a beat as a part of your daddy you never saw is revealed to you. It’s big and red at the tip. You tense, heat rushing through you as you look away.

“Look at me, princess,” he instructs, drawing your quivering chin back to him. He presses himself against your little girl parts. Whimpers spill from your mouth as he humps you through your clothes, pinning you underneath his frame.

His hot breath rolls over your face.

“How does it feel?”

“A little weird.” You shake your head, a surge of tears threatening to break free beneath your lashes. “I don’t know if I like this game…”

He frames your chin, squeezing more tightly than usual. “Do you want to make daddy happy, princess?”

“Y-Yes,” you stammer.

His thumb skims over your shuddering mouth.

“This is daddy’s favorite game to play with his princess.”

“Okay…”

Your mood sinks. You’re liking the game less and less the longer it goes on, but you don’t want to disappoint your daddy who held you almost every night to chase away the bad dreams. His daddy thing gets heavier and bigger against your belly while he moves. He grunts, his throat rippling. The sensation is almost too much to bear, your vision swaying as he stimulates your little girl parts.

Daddy’s game is a little strange, you’re starting to think, and it’s making you feel weird things. Weird, tingly things. And it makes the room spin like a carousel.

You try to close your legs, stop the wave of strange, uncomfortable feelings…But Coriolanus wedges himself between your thighs, forcing your knees apart.

“Daddy…”

His brow twitches. “Shh, let daddy take care of you, princess.” His lips cover yours, smothering all your doubts. You feel bruises form on your mouth and cheek as he kisses you harshly. Lips trailing down to your neck, he pulls your panties down your legs.

There’s barely time for you to register the cool air hitting your bare center before he’s starting to push himself in. The pain strikes you mute at first. Just the tip of him is so much. Too much. It feels like you will break any second. Coriolanus pants above you, straining to fit as you squeeze around him, fear and pain throbbing through you.

“It’s okay, princess. Daddy’s got you,” he mutters.

When he sinks even further, a broken sob leaves you. A fire burns you from inside, amplifying every time your daddy moves ever-so-slightly.

Tears fill your eyes to the brim.

“I don’t like this game, daddy. Can we stop playing, please?”

He wipes your tears with soft kisses. The words pouring into your ear, while uttered sweetly, are firm. “The game’s not over until daddy says it is, princess.”

Your breath falters as he goes all the way inside. He hums deep in his throat, draping himself over your shaking frame. Your head lolls to the side, your eyes wandering to your dolls and stuffed animals. The abrupt urge to poke their eyes out so they don’t have to see any of this blooms inside you. Tears stream down your cheeks as Coriolanus thrusts inside you. His throaty moans mingle with the slapping of skin against skin. The noises your daddy makes get louder every time he slams into you. He spreads your thighs more, pushing deeper. When you tighten around him, your daddy moans, his eyes rolling back.

“You’re squeezing daddy’s cock so well, princess,” he lauds, knuckles dragging over your temple.

He goes faster, hitting sensitive parts that draw sharp noises of agony from you. Every part of your body is wide awake with pain and discomfort. Numb with a plethora of confusing, terrifying emotions, you don’t move as his hips snap into yours relentlessly.

The game lasts for hours, it seems. You’re thankful when daddy appears done, his movements getting sloppier as his pace slows.

As his hips stutter, his hand wraps around your jaw.

“Daddy’s going to come inside you, so you have to say ‘thank you’”

A hoarse sigh leaves him, his lashes fluttering as he empties himself inside you. You shudder.

“Thank you for coming inside me, daddy,” you mechanically repeat. Bile rises in your throat as the excess gathers around your folds, pooling over your once pristine white sheets.

His sweaty form folds over yours. Another tear slides down your cheek.

“Such a good girl for me.” He buries his head in the crook of your neck and coos, “We’re going to play so many fun games together, princess.”

Your stomach curls with dread at that promise.

#dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games #tbosas fanfiction #dark!coriolanus snow x reader

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