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solxamber · 3 months ago

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Trash Novel Chronicles: I'd Rather Date the Male Lead's Dad - Lilia Vanrouge x reader

When you end up in your best friend's favourite but absurd novel about breaking a fae prince's curse, you didn't expect to get attached to his little family too. Even more unexpected? You fell for the male lead's dad, but hey it looks like he likes you too.

Series Masterlist

You love your best friend. You really, really do. But sometimes—sometimes—the things they drag you into make you question your life choices. This time? It’s a novel. A bad one.

The plot is borderline unreadable, but somehow, it’s now your problem. Because of course it is.

“So, listen,” your friend had said, waving the book around like it was some kind of literary masterpiece. “Malleus Draconia, the fae prince, is cursed—chained up in this forest. The curse can only be broken by someone who isn’t attracted to him. But here’s the kicker: he’s so hot that no one can break the curse. For ten years.”

“Uh-huh.” You’d nodded along, already feeling your brain cells start to wave white flags of surrender. But your friend continued.

“The main character stumbles upon him after years of drama and frees him because they’re the only one not drooling over him. Then they fall in love, blah, blah, blah.”

At this point, you were barely listening. But then they dropped the bomb. Your eyes were shutting and you felt the sweet embrace of sleep call to you.

“Also, there’s this subplot where a magical plague of squirrels overruns the kingdom, the Saint betrays everyone by secretly being a double agent for some shadowy organization, and—get this—there’s a surprise paternity reveal where the devil is the father of the Saint who turns out to be the evil villain controlling everything.”

Your face had hit the pillow as your soul left your body.

And somehow, the next thing you remember is waking up dead. Or, more specifically, reincarnated. In the body of the heroine. In that story.

You can't believe the story was so terrible that it killed you.

The first thing you notice when you wake up is that the room is way too fancy for your tastes. The bed is massive, the sheets feel like they cost more than your entire existence, and the walls are adorned with tacky portraits of people who are probably supposed to be important.

“Oh, no,” you groan, rubbing your eyes. “This can’t be happening.”

But it is. You’re in the novel. The very one your friend had been yammering about. And not only are you in it, but you’ve woken up a full year before the plot is supposed to kick off. A year of waiting for terrible drama, an ex-fiancé who can’t take a hint, and a poor fae prince you’re supposed to rescue.

But you? Yeah, you’re not that patient.

“No way am I waiting a whole year for some garbage plot to unfold,” you mutter, throwing the covers off. “I’m just going to free Malleus now, take my reward, and live a quiet, drama-free life by the beach.”

With that plan firmly in mind, you march out the door.

It takes a bit of wandering through some overly cursed forest, but you eventually find Malleus’s “prison.” And honestly? It’s not nearly as dramatic as you expected.

There he is, sitting in the middle of a clearing, chained up in some kind of spooky-but-also-weirdly-ornate setup. He looks just as the novel described: tall, dark-haired, horns giving him an air of mystery and power. But what you weren’t prepared for? The way his eyes widen slightly in surprise when he sees you.

“I wasn’t expecting… company,” Malleus says, his voice soft, almost tentative.

You pause for a second. He looks intimidating, sure, but there’s something oddly… sweet about him. Like a guy who’d get excited over a party invite and then be too shy to actually show up.

“Yeah, I’m just here to get this whole ‘curse-breaking’ thing out of the way,” you say casually, walking up to the chains. “I’ve got stuff to do.”

Malleus blinks, looking a bit confused. “You… are not attracted to me?”

You snort. “Nah, not really. You’re nice to look at, don’t get me wrong, but I’ve got my own problems. Let’s just get you free so I can collect my reward and move on.”

He still looks mildly surprised but nods. “Very well.”

With a shrug, you reach out and touch the chains. There’s a brief flicker of light, and they dissolve. Just like that.

Malleus looks down at his freed wrists, clearly shocked. “It… it worked.”

“Yeah, wild, right?” you say, brushing off your hands. “So, about that reward…”

Before you can finish, Malleus stands and, in a tone so polite it makes you feel guilty, says, “You have freed me. Please, allow me to invite you to stay at my castle. As a guest.”

You blink at him. “Uh, no thanks. I’m good.”

Malleus’s expression falters for a moment, and you swear he looks a little sad. “But… I would like to repay you for your kindness.”

He’s giving you this look, all wide-eyed and hopeful, and you realize—he just wants to hang out.

Oh no.

“Ugh, fine,” you groan. “I’ll stick around for a bit.”

The way his face lights up is honestly too pure for someone who was supposed to be all intimidating and all-powerful.

When you arrive at Malleus’s castle, things get interesting real fast. You’re greeted by his entourage—Sebek, who looks like he’s one insult away from going Super Saiyan; Silver, who’s napping on his feet; and Lilia, who seems like the embodiment of chaos.

Sebek is the first to speak, scowling at you with righteous fury. “How DARE you approach Lord Malleus with such insolence!”

You roll your eyes. “I just freed him. You’re welcome.”

Sebek looks like he’s about to explode, but Lilia steps forward, his sharp grin making you instantly suspicious. “Oh? You broke the curse? Without being… swayed by our dear Malleus’s charms?”

“Yup,” you say, popping the ‘p.’ “Didn’t even break a sweat.”

Lilia’s eyes gleam with amusement. “Fascinating. You must have quite the willpower. Or perhaps…” He looks you up and down, clearly intrigued. “You simply have different tastes?”

You blink. Then, without thinking, you point at him. “Actually, yeah. You’re hot.”

There’s a beat of stunned silence, during which Sebek looks like he’s been hit with a brick, and Lilia lets out a delighted laugh.

“Oh, you are a delight,” Lilia says, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Perhaps you should stay longer.”

“You think I’m joking, but I’m not,” you deadpan, earning a grin from Lilia.

Silver, meanwhile, is still half-asleep and completely unfazed by your chaos. “Good job on freeing Malleus,” he mutters, yawning.

Malleus, who has been silent this whole time, finally speaks up. “You… do not find me attractive?”

You turn to him and sigh. “Look, it’s not that you’re not attractive. You’re, like… objectively pretty. But I don’t really go for the whole cursed prince thing.”

Malleus seems to process this slowly, his brows furrowing slightly. “I see…”

“But don’t worry,” you add quickly, feeling a bit bad for the guy. “You’re sweet. It’s a compliment, really.”

Malleus looks a little less confused and a bit more happy. “Sweet? No one has ever called me that before.”

You snort. “Well, I’m calling it now. And hey, you’ve got your freedom, right? Now you can get invited to all those parties you wanted.”

At this, Malleus’s eyes widen slightly, and you realize—oh no, he’s the type who really just wants to be invited to stuff.

“Oh,” you mutter under your breath, “you’re like a giant puppy, aren’t you?”

Malleus tilts his head, clearly confused, but before he can ask, Lilia leans in with a knowing grin. “I think you’ll fit in just fine around here.”

You sigh, rubbing your temples. “This is gonna be a long stay, isn’t it?”

Lilia’s smile widens. “Oh, most definitely.”

Later, you’re sitting around the dining hall with the group when Lilia casually brings up the dreaded plot points.

“So, when do you think the magical plague of squirrels will hit?” he asks, almost too casually.

You nearly choke on your drink. “The what now?”

“Oh, didn’t you know?” Lilia smirks. “There’s a prophecy. The squirrels will overrun the kingdom unless someone stops them.”

You blink. “This is real? I thought that part was a fever dream.”

Malleus nods seriously. “The squirrels are quite the threat.”

You slam your head on the table. “I’m trapped in a nightmare.”

Silver, half-asleep as always, just yawns. “I’ll take care of them. Probably.”

And that’s when you realize: maybe you should have let the curse be.

You didn’t mean for it to happen, but you and Malleus… well, you’ve become friends. It started small, mostly casual conversations where he’d hover around, awkward but eager, just happy to be included. There was this one time you invited him to tea, and the poor guy looked like he was about to cry from happiness. Now? You’re taking your frienship to the next level.

“Hey,” you say, strolling into the throne room where Malleus is doing the farthest thing from brooding. He’s just kind of standing there, staring out the window like he’s daydreaming about a really nice picnic. “Want to go to the market with me?”

The look on his face is priceless. His eyes widen like you’ve just handed him a golden ticket to the best party of the year. “You… want me to accompany you?”

“Yeah,” you shrug, as if this isn’t the biggest deal of his life. “I need to pick up some stuff, and I figured it’d be more fun with a friend. Plus, y’know, maybe someone will actually give me a discount if you’re there.”

Malleus looks like you just offered him the world “I would be honored.”

And that’s how you, Malleus, and the rest of his chaotic entourage—because of course they followed—ended up at the bustling market.

Sebek? Less than thrilled. In fact, you think he might actually be foaming at the mouth. “I cannot believe you are fraternizing with Lord Malleus so casually! Do you not understand the honor you’ve been given?!”

“Sebek,” you sigh, waving a hand dismissively, “we’ve been over this. I’m his friend. Friends do normal stuff together. You know, like going to the market.”

Sebek glares at you like you’ve just insulted his entire bloodline. “Lord Malleus does not engage in such trivialities!”

“Uh,” you glance over at Malleus, who is currently inspecting a row of intricately carved fruit. “He’s literally doing it right now, Sebek.”

Malleus turns to you, holding up a fruit shaped like a tiny dragon. “Would you like to try one? It is said to bring good fortune.”

You grin at him. “If you’re offering, I’m down.”

Sebek looks like he’s about to explode from sheer indignation.

“You dare—!”

“Sebek,” Malleus cuts in, his voice as gentle as ever. “I am quite enjoying myself. There’s no need to worry.”

You grin at the sight. “You’re really into this, huh?”

Malleus glances at you, a little bashful but still smiling. “I have never been invited to something like this before. It is… a new experience.”

Oh god, he’s so sweet. You feel like you’re corrupting a baby deer by dragging him into the real world, but it’s so worth it.

Lilia, however, is having the time of his life. He leans over, grinning like the mischievous little gremlin he is, and whispers in your ear, “I must say, you’ve got quite the charm. Lord Malleus rarely accepts invitations. You might be more important to him than you think.”

You snort. “Yeah, well, maybe he just really likes fruit.”

Lilia laughs, a sound that’s equal parts endearing and dangerous. “Or maybe he enjoys your company, hm?”

“Careful,” you say, flashing a grin. “Keep sweet-talking me like that, and I might start flirting back.”

Lilia’s eyes gleam with amusement. “Oh? I think I’d enjoy that.”

Oh god, he’s not backing down. Now you’re in the deep end. “Listen, if you keep going, I’m gonna have to ask if you’ve got plans for dinner.”

“I’m free this evening,” Lilia replies smoothly. “Shall I prepare a feast? Or perhaps we could have something more… intimate?”

You blink at him, unable to tell if he’s messing with you or if this is just how he operates. Either way, you’re so down to find out.

Before you can respond, Sebek cuts in, voice raised to what can only be described as ‘angry airhorn.’ “You will not speak so casually to Master Lilia!”

“Oh, Sebek, relax,” you say, patting him on the shoulder, which is a mistake because it feels like patting a brick wall. “He likes it.”

Lilia winks at you, thoroughly enjoying the chaos. “Indeed, I do.”

You smirk, shooting Lilia a playful look. “See? The man’s practically begging for attention.”

Malleus, meanwhile, has been watching this entire exchange with mild confusion. “Is this what humans call… flirting?”

You give him an exaggerated nod. “Yup. It’s a sacred tradition. Very serious stuff.”

“I see,” Malleus muses, looking between you and Lilia. “Perhaps I should try it as well?”

“Oh, please don’t,” Sebek groans, looking absolutely horrified at the idea of Malleus flirting. “Lord Malleus, you are above such trivial pursuits!”

Lilia is practically cackling at this point. “Now, now, Sebek. It wouldn’t hurt to let Malleus explore new experiences.”

You grin and elbow Malleus lightly. “Don’t listen to Sebek. You can totally flirt if you want.”

Malleus, sweet as he is, looks completely serious when he asks, “What would I say? I do not wish to offend.”

You pause, trying very hard not to laugh. “Okay, how about this? Try complimenting someone. Like…” You glance around and point at a vendor selling flowers. “Tell them they have lovely flowers.”

Malleus nods, taking this very seriously, and walks over to the vendor. You, Lilia, Sebek, and Silver (who’s been napping the whole time) watch as Malleus, ever the gentleman, says to the vendor, “Your flowers… are as radiant as the moonlight.”

The vendor looks flustered, blushing furiously. “Oh! Thank you, My Lord!”

You can’t help but laugh. “See? You’re a natural.”

Malleus returns to your side, looking pleased with himself. “I believe that went well.”

“Yeah, now you just have to work on *accepting* compliments,” you say with a wink, and Malleus tilts his head slightly in confusion.

“Accepting?”

“Yeah,” you grin, “like, if I were to tell you you’re the sweetest giant fae-dragon puppy I’ve ever met, you’d say…?”

Malleus looks genuinely flustered, his cheeks tinting the faintest shade of pink. “I… would say… thank you?”

“Good enough,” you laugh, nudging him playfully. “We’ll work on it.”

Sebek is muttering to himself about ‘disrespect’ and ‘sacrilege,’ but Malleus looks… happy. Like, really happy. He’s still a little awkward, sure, but you can tell he’s having a good time. Probably more fun than he’s had in years.

Lilia, meanwhile, is back at your side, leaning in close with that smirk of his. “You’re quite the influence, you know.”

“Yeah, well,” you grin, “someone’s gotta drag him into the real world.”

“Perhaps you’ll drag me into something as well?” Lilia purrs, his voice low and teasing.

You blink at him. “Keep talking, and I might actually propose to you.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” Lilia says, eyes glinting with mischief. “Perhaps later tonight?”

“Is that an invitation?” you quip, raising an eyebrow.

Sebek practically has steam coming out of his ears. “Master Lilia!”

But Lilia just laughs, utterly unfazed. “Oh, Sebek. You really must learn to loosen up.”

Silver yawns loudly, cutting through Sebek’s rant like a chainsaw through butter. “Can we get food now?”

You snort. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.”

Malleus, ever the polite host, nods eagerly. “Yes, let us dine together. A family outing is not complete without a meal.”

You pause, blinking. Family? Did he just call this a family outing?

Lilia catches your expression and chuckles. “Oh dear, it seems Malleus has grown quite fond of you.”

You shoot him a playful glare. “You make it sound like a bad thing.”

“Not at all,” Lilia says, smiling knowingly. “In fact, I believe it’s quite the opposite.”

Before you can respond, Malleus steps up, still radiating pure joy. “Would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner tonight? I would very much enjoy your company.”

Sebek looks like he’s about to self-destruct from sheer disbelief, but you? You can’t help but grin. “Sure, why not? But if I catch you stealing my dessert, it’s game over.”

Malleus chuckles, his awkwardness fading just a bit. “I shall do my best to restrain myself.”

Lilia leans over, voice low and teasing again. “Perhaps you’ll save dessert for me, hm?”

You snort. “Don’t push your luck, old man.”

“Ah, but I’m a fae. Luck is my specialty.”

You shake your head, grinning as you walk alongside Malleus, who’s positively glowing with happiness. Yeah, this is one weird, dysfunctional family, but maybe you like it that way.

It’s quiet tonight, the kind of quiet that settles deep in your bones, making you feel both peaceful and unbearably restless. You find yourself standing on a balcony, overlooking the courtyard bathed in moonlight. The cool breeze whispers through the trees, the scent of night-blooming flowers drifting lazily through the air.

Lilia stands beside you, leaning against the stone railing, his usual playful demeanor absent. In its place is a rare solemnity, something you’ve only seen glimpses of before. You glance at him, noting the way the moonlight catches in his hair, casting soft shadows across his face. It feels... strange, seeing him like this. So serious, so quiet.

After a long silence, he speaks, his voice soft but weighted with emotion. “I was terrified, you know. Of losing him.”

You don’t need to ask who he’s talking about. Malleus. The curse that had wrapped around him for so long, a dark cloud that threatened to take him away. You had been the unexpected catalyst for breaking it, and while you hadn’t fully understood the gravity of it at the time, you’re beginning to now.

Lilia continues, his gaze fixed on the stars above. “I’ve lived a long time. I’ve seen many things, lost many people... but the thought of losing him...” He trails off, his voice catching in a way that makes your heart ache. “It would have broken me.”

You swallow, unsure of what to say. What can you say to something like that? You’re just... you. You never asked to be involved in any of this, never imagined that you’d become such an important part of these people’s lives. But here you are.

“I didn’t do anything special,” you finally manage, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I was just... there.”

Lilia turns to look at you, and there’s something deep in his eyes—something raw and real that takes your breath away. “Sometimes just being there is enough,” he says quietly. “You saved him. And in doing so, you saved me too.”

You shift uncomfortably, not because of his words, but because of the way they tug at something deep inside of you. A part of you that you’ve been trying to keep buried for as long as you’ve been in this strange, unfamiliar world.

You’re silent for a long time, your gaze fixed on the moonlit sky. The memories of your old life swirl in your mind—your family, your best friend, all the people you’ve left behind. You haven’t spoken about it to anyone here, not in detail. It feels too dangerous, too vulnerable. But standing here, under the moonlight with Lilia, you feel like maybe... just maybe... you can share a piece of it.

“I miss them,” you admit softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “My family. My best friend. I miss... home.”

Lilia doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his presence beside you, warm and steady. He doesn’t press for details, doesn’t ask questions you’re not ready to answer. He just listens, and somehow, that’s enough.

You take a deep breath, the cool night air filling your lungs. “It’s hard,” you continue, your voice shaking slightly. “Being here. Being away from them. Sometimes it feels like... like I’m losing pieces of myself. Like I’m forgetting what it felt like to be... whole.”

Lilia’s hand gently rests on your shoulder, a comforting weight that grounds you. “You haven’t lost yourself,” he says quietly. “Not even a little.”

You close your eyes, letting his words wash over you. You don’t know if he’s right, but in this moment, you want to believe him. You want to believe that despite everything, despite the distance and the pain and the uncertainty, you’re still... you.

For a long time, the two of you stand in silence, the only sounds the soft rustling of the trees and the distant chirping of crickets. The moon hangs heavy in the sky, casting everything in a silvery glow. There’s a quiet understanding between you and Lilia, a shared pain that neither of you needs to fully explain.

Eventually, Lilia speaks again, his voice so soft it almost blends with the wind. “The world can be a cruel place,” he murmurs. “But it can also be kind. And in moments like this... it feels just a little more bearable, doesn’t it?”

You nod, your throat tight with unshed tears. “Yeah,” you whisper. “It does.”

The night stretches on, and though neither of you say anything more, there’s a comfort in the silence. A bond formed in the quiet acknowledgment of each other’s pain. And for the first time in a long while, you feel like you’re not quite so alone.

Maybe, just maybe, you’ll be okay.

You’re not entirely sure how you ended up here, but somehow, you’re on a date with Lilia. Yes, that Lilia—lord of chaos, culinary adventurer, and general source of havoc.

The setting is picturesque enough: a meadow at sunset, complete with wildflowers and a gentle breeze. At least, it would be picturesque if not for the feast Lilia has prepared, which has a worrying amount of color, movement, and mystery.

“Surprise is the key to a romantic evening,” Lilia declares as he gestures proudly over the assortment of dishes.

You take a moment to assess the display. There’s a vibrantly colored stew that seems to be emitting steam with a life of its own. A platter of vegetables is twitching as if they’re reconsidering their life choices. And there’s a pie—definitely a pie—with something that looks suspiciously like an eyeball poking out from under the crust.

Lilia smiles at you, eyes glinting. “Would you like to try the stew first, my dear? It’s my own special concoction.”

You stare at it, then at him. “How many people have survived eating this?”

Lilia leans in, eyes full of mischief. “Define survived.”

You grin. “Only one way to find out, right?” Before he can respond, you reach for the bowl and take a large spoonful of the stew. Lilia’s eyebrows rise, clearly impressed by your boldness.

It tastes... unusual. Like someone mixed spicy peppers, sweet berries, and some kind of very sharp herb. You take another bite, considering.

Lilia watches you, waiting for a reaction. “Well?” he asks, a hopeful glint in his eye.

You swallow, then nod thoughtfully. “It’s... actually good. Really good, in fact.”

Lilia blinks, his expression shifting from mischief to genuine surprise. “Really?”

You nod again, going in for a third bite, savoring the strange combination of flavors. “Yeah! I mean, it’s different, but in a good way. The spice, the sweetness... it kind of works.”

Lilia’s face lights up, his delight palpable. “You truly mean it? My culinary prowess is usually met with... trepidation.”

“Trepidation might be an understatement,” you say with a laugh. “But honestly? I think people don’t give you enough credit.”

From somewhere nearby, a strangled gasp echoes across the meadow.

“Master Lilia!” Sebek’s voice rings out, sounding more horrified than ever. You glance in the direction of the bushes where, sure enough, they’re rustling. Apparently, Sebek has taken it upon himself to supervise this date from afar.

Lilia chuckles, clearly enjoying Sebek's reaction as much as yours. “Oh, my dear Sebek. One day, you shall learn that adventure begins in the kitchen.”

You take a sip of the iridescent liquid before you—a drink that looks more like a potion than anything else. It’s sparkling, and it has the distinct taste of... glittery fruit juice? You’re not sure, but it’s oddly refreshing.

Lilia eyes you, his smile turning softer, more genuine. “I must say, you are full of surprises. Most would have fainted by now.”

“Hey, I can handle a little excitement,” you say, reaching for one of the twitching vegetables.

Lilia watches in awe as you pop it into your mouth and chew. “And?” he asks, almost breathless.

You blink. “Crunchy. Kind of earthy. I like it.”

Lilia’s smile widens, his eyes twinkling with delight. “Oh, how wonderful! My dear, you truly are one of a kind.”

Sebek’s dismayed groan echoes once again, and you laugh, glancing toward the bushes. “I think we’re breaking poor Sebek.”

“Well, that’s part of the fun, isn’t it?” Lilia replies, leaning closer to you. “And speaking of fun, I have something special for you.” He produces a bright blue flower, presenting it to you with a flourish.

You take it, giving it a cautious sniff. It smells like fresh-baked cookies, and you look at Lilia, raising an eyebrow. “A flower that smells like dessert? Now you’re really spoiling me.”

Lilia’s eyes soften, his voice lowering. “Only the best for someone who appreciates my unique touch.”

Before you can reply, there’s another voice—this one distinctly sleepy. “Father, what... what’s going on here?” Silver approaches, looking like he just woke up from a nap. He takes one look at the scene—the half-eaten dishes, the flower in your hand, and Lilia’s delighted expression—and sighs. “Are you actually eating this... willingly?”

You nod, grinning. “Turns out Lilia’s cooking isn’t so bad. It’s actually kind of great.”

Silver looks at you, then at Lilia, then back at you. He blinks, his brain clearly trying to process this information. “Father, are you using magic to manipulate their taste buds?”

Lilia puts a hand over his heart, looking offended. “Silver, how could you suggest such a thing? I assure you, our dear friend here is enjoying my cooking purely of their own volition.”

Silver sighs again, rubbing his temples. “I think I need another nap.”

Lilia laughs, turning his attention back to you, his eyes filled with affection. “You truly are something special, my dear. Few have ever dared, let alone enjoyed, my creations.”

You smile, giving his hand a squeeze. “Well, I guess I’m just full of surprises.”

Lilia leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Would it be too much to say I find you... irresistible?”

You chuckle, narrowing your eyes playfully. “Don’t push your luck, old man.”

Lilia smirks, his gaze full of warmth. “Ah, but pushing my luck is what I do best. Perhaps next time, I’ll cook an even more adventurous meal for us.”

You pretend to consider it, tapping your chin. “Define adventurous.”

Lilia’s eyes glint mischievously. “How about roasted phoenix feathers?”

“Phoenix feathers?” you echo, shaking your head with a laugh. “You know what? I think I like you just the way you are—absurd cooking experiments and all.”

Lilia’s expression softens, his smile turning tender. “I’m glad to hear it.”

With that, the two of you rise, arm in arm, leaving behind the bizarre remains of the meal. Somewhere in the bushes, Sebek is probably fuming, and Silver has most likely already fallen asleep again.

But as you glance at Lilia, whose eyes are still filled with excitement and warmth, you think that maybe absurd is just what you need.

You love this little family, but you had to gain equal footing with Sebek before you got attached any further. So you did what you thought would work the best— Challenge him in something he enjoys.

You and Sebek had been circling the field for a while now, your horses galloping side by side as you both tried to outpace each other. The competitive tension was thick in the air, though not hostile—it was more of an unspoken game to see who would crack first.

“So, you’re telling me you’ve been riding horses for *years*?” Sebek shouts over the wind, his eyes sharp with determination.

“Yup,” you reply, grinning as your horse picks up speed. “Equestrian club, since I was a kid. Surprised?”

Sebek huffs, his posture straight and rigid as always, but you can tell he’s impressed. “It’s… commendable. For a human, you’ve got some skill.”

“Some skill?” you tease, glancing over at him with a mischievous smile. “Is that all I get? Come on, Sebek, I thought you were competitive.”

He narrows his eyes at you, spurring his horse faster to pull ahead. “I am competitive! You’ll find I do not lose so easily.”

You laugh, nudging your horse to keep up. There’s a thrill in it—pushing each other, but not in a mean way. Sebek’s passion for horse riding matches your own, and it’s fun to finally find common ground with him. Plus, you’re enjoying the challenge.

The field blurs by as you both race toward the far fence, neither of you backing down. As you approach the finish line (or rather, the arbitrary spot you both decided was the end), you both cross it at nearly the same time, pulling your horses to a halt, panting slightly.

Sebek is the first to speak, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. “Hmph. You’re not bad.”

“Not bad? I’d say I’m pretty good,” you shoot back, grinning ear to ear.

Sebek scoffs, but there’s a lightness in his tone that wasn’t there before. “You’re still a human, but… I’ll admit, you ride with some honor.”

“Wow, high praise,” you tease, but you soften your smile. “Thanks, Sebek. You’re not half-bad yourself.”

For a split second, you think you catch the ghost of a smile on his face, but it quickly disappears as he straightens in his saddle. “Of course. Riding is in my blood.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Oh, obviously. I bet you were born in the saddle.”

“Perhaps I was,” Sebek says, completely serious. You stifle a laugh, realizing he probably believes that.

But before you can retort, Lilia rides up, his usual mischievous grin firmly in place. “Ah, what’s this? A friendly competition between two of my favorite people?”

“Master Lilia,” Sebek says, immediately shifting into soldier mode. “We were just—”

“Competing, yes, I can see that.” Lilia’s grin widens as he glances between the two of you. “I must say, the sight of you both racing like that was… quite exhilarating.”

You smirk, not missing a beat. “What, did we impress you?”

Lilia leans closer, voice dropping into a playful tone. “Oh, darling, I’ve been impressed by you for quite some time now.”

Sebek looks like he’s about to faint from sheer mortification. “MASTER LILIA! HUMAN!”

You laugh, waving Lilia off. “Careful, Sebek, you’re gonna scare your horse.”

But surprisingly, Sebek doesn’t snap back. Instead, he looks at you, something softer in his expression. “I admit… you’ve shown me something today. Perhaps you’re not just a reckless human after all.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Wow, Sebek. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re starting to like me.”

Sebek grumbles, looking away. “Do not mistake my words. I merely acknowledge your competence. Nothing more.”

“Sure, sure,” you reply, still grinning. “But hey, anytime you wanna ride again, I’m game.”

Sebek glances back at you, his usual harshness softened just a bit. “Perhaps… I will take you up on that.”

Lilia chuckles, clearly pleased with the budding camaraderie. “Ah, it warms my heart to see you two bonding. Who knows? Maybe you’ll become the best of friends.”

You wink at Lilia. “Well, if Sebek keeps up, maybe I’ll make him my official riding partner.”

Sebek, for once, doesn’t argue. Instead, he gives a small, determined nod. “We shall see, human. We shall see.”

As you ride back toward the stables, you can’t help but smile. You’ve earned a bit of respect from Sebek, and who knows? Maybe you’ll turn this into a full-fledged rivalry—one with a bit more fun and a lot less shouting.

Lilia, of course, flirts all the way back, making sure to keep the mood light and teasing, much to Sebek’s increasing exasperation. But even he can't deny that today was fun

The day should've been as normal as you could have these days—your stomach had other plans. There’s this nagging craving in the back of your mind for ramen, but of course, you’re stuck in a medieval isekai world where even the concept of instant noodles would make heads explode.

You groan, pacing back and forth in your room. "Ramen, ramen, ramen..." You’re practically chanting it like a spell. Finally, you snap your fingers. "Alright! Let’s get some ramen going!"

With all the determination of a contestant in a cooking show, you head to the market, a list of makeshift ingredients mentally prepared. You have no clue how you’re going to explain seaweed or soy sauce to the vendors, but hey, you’ve gotten this far in life on sheer audacity.

Except, ten minutes later, you find yourself hopelessly lost. You had been walking with confidence, chest out, head high, until you somehow managed to wander into a part of town that definitely wasn’t on your mental map. Instead of bustling vendors and cheerful shoppers, you’re now looking at a spooky, abandoned-looking area, complete with dense fog and suspiciously creaky trees.

“This... This isn’t the market,” you mutter, pausing in front of a seriously ominous cottage. If there were ever a sign that said "DO NOT ENTER" in flashing neon, this would be it. And yet, for reasons unknown even to yourself, you approach.

Before you can bolt in the opposite direction, the door swings open with the most dramatic creak you’ve ever heard. A woman, dressed in black robes, stands in the doorway with a gaze that could curdle milk. Her aura practically screams witch, and not the cool kind either—the villainous, melodramatic kind.

“Well, well, well,” she sneers, stepping out with all the grace of a Broadway villain, “look who wandered into my lair.”

“Uh, yeah...” You trail off, scratching the back of your head. “So… this isn’t the market?”

The witch gives you a look so condescending it could melt iron. “No,” she hisses, “it most certainly is not. You’ve trespassed on my domain, little fool!”

“Right, so sorry about that,” you say, trying to backpedal. “I’m just trying to make some ramen, and I—wait, hold on, who are you exactly?”

Her eyes flash with annoyance. “You don’t know who I am?”

You blink at her. “Is this the part where you tell me, like in those cartoons? ‘Cause I’m getting major ‘I’m about to monologue’ vibes right now.”

The witch’s face twitches, clearly not used to people interrupting her villain speech. “I,” she says, pausing for dramatic effect, “am the witch who cursed Malleus Draconia!”

Oh, that witch. You’ve heard some stories about her, mostly from half-paying attention when your friend geeked out over the original plot. But now that you’re face-to-face with her... this is not how you pictured it. You tilt your head.

“So, wait,” you begin, trying to suppress a snicker, “you’re the one who came up with that whole 15-year curse plan? And your big finale was… what? Swooping in at the last second to save him and then expecting him to marry you?”

Her eyes narrow. “That was the plan.”

You stare at her for a moment, the absurdity sinking in. “...That’s ridiculous.”

“How dare you mock me?!” she shrieks, her voice reaching a pitch that probably scared some birds out of nearby trees. She raises her hand, dark magic swirling between her fingers, and you swear you can hear thunder crack in the distance.

“Okay, hang on,” you say, taking a cautious step back. “Let’s not get all zappy here. I’m just saying that’s a lot of effort for a plan that has, like, a one percent success rate.”

“Silence!” She’s fuming now, throwing her hand forward to launch the magic at you—and you brace yourself for the worst. You’ve seen this in movies before. This is the part where you get turned into a frog or something equally terrible.

Except… nothing happens.

The magic fizzles out midair like a dud firecracker, leaving a puff of smoke and an awkward silence in its wake. You blink. She blinks. You both stare at the spot where the magic should have been.

“Uh…” you begin, rubbing the back of your neck. “Was that supposed to do something?”

The witch looks at her hand, then at you, then back at her hand again like she’s having a serious identity crisis. “What...?”

“I mean, points for the drama, but I’m still standing here,” you say, waving your hand in front of your face as if checking for damage. “And I don’t think I’m a toad.”

She tries again, gathering more magic in her hands and launching it at you with renewed fury. But once again, nothing. The magic stops short, fizzling out like it’s hitting an invisible barrier around you. Now she’s just staring at you, dumbfounded.

You, on the other hand, are absolutely flabbergasted. “Okay, this is getting weird.”

That’s when Lilia appears—literally, out of nowhere. He casually steps out from behind a tree like this is all a normal Monday for him. “Ah, I thought I sensed some familiar mischief afoot,” he says, his voice cheerful, though his eyes glint with something far more dangerous as they lock onto the witch.

The witch recoils, visibly shaken. “Lilia Vanrouge,” she hisses, sounding more like a disgruntled cat than a fearsome sorceress.

“In the flesh,” he says with a light bow, his grin all sharp teeth and mischief. “What brings you out of your little hidey-hole?”

She glares at him but doesn’t say anything. She’s outmatched, and she knows it. With one last seething look at you, she vanishes into thin air with a dramatic whoosh of smoke, leaving you and Lilia alone in the now eerily quiet forest.

You turn to him, utterly confused. “What the heck was that about? Why didn’t her magic work on me?”

Lilia’s grin softens, his gaze turning fond. “Ah, I see I’ve forgotten to tell you. I placed a fae’s blessing on you some time ago.”

“Wait, what?” You gape at him. “When did you do that?!”

He chuckles, as if you asking when he bestowed a magical shield on you is the most amusing thing he’s heard all week. “You tend to attract trouble, my dear. I thought it best to give you a little extra protection.”

You blink at him, still processing. “So… you’ve been secretly protecting me this whole time?”

His gaze turns a bit more serious, the usual playful air dropping away. “I don’t want to see anything happen to you,” he says softly, the words carrying a weight you hadn’t expected.

For a moment, you’re left speechless, flustered even. The teasing and jokes you’re so used to from Lilia are gone, replaced by something… deeper. It throws you off your game.

“Well, uh…” You clear your throat, desperately trying to recover. “I appreciate not getting turned into a frog or whatever she was planning.”

His grin returns, and the moment passes. “You’re welcome. Now, shall we head back to the market? I believe you were on a quest for... ramen, was it?”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head as the absurdity of it all catches up with you. “Yeah, let’s do that. And maybe next time I’ll avoid wandering into spooky villain lairs.”

“An excellent plan,” he says, offering you his arm. “Shall we?”

And just like that, you’re back on track—albeit a bit more shaken than before, but at least you’ve got a magical blessing you didn’t know about and one very charming fae escorting you through the mess.

You’re sitting under a large tree in the courtyard, soaking up the rare bit of peace and quiet that’s fallen over your life. It’s a nice day, the kind that makes you feel all warm and content, the sun shining gently through the leaves. Beside you, Silver is leaning against the trunk, dozing off as usual. You’ve become used to his tendency to fall asleep mid-conversation, and honestly, it’s kind of adorable.

He stirs a little, blinking his sleepy eyes open and looking at you with a soft smile. “It’s nice to have moments like this,” he says, voice a bit groggy. “Especially after everything.”

“Yeah,” you reply, leaning back on your hands. “It’s been... a lot.”

Silver glances at you, his gaze thoughtful. “You really helped us. My family,” he says, his tone a bit more serious than usual. “Freeing Lord Malleus from that curse... it was no small feat.”

Your stomach twists a little at the mention of Malleus. It still feels surreal that you had a hand in such a monumental event. You shrug, trying to play it cool. “Eh, you know... just another day of accidentally stumbling into chaos.”

He chuckles lightly, his smile softening even more. “I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to thank you properly for what you’ve done. You really saved us all.”

You wave your hand dismissively. “Stop, you’re going to make me blush. I was just trying to make some money, and suddenly I’m in the middle of an epic quest. You know how it is.”

Silver hums, half-amused, and then casually drops the bomb on you like it’s the most normal thing in the world: “You’d be perfect with Father.”

Your brain short-circuits. “...Sorry, what?”

Silver, utterly oblivious to the internal crisis he’s just unleashed within you, looks at you with that serene, peaceful expression of his. “Father. You’d be perfect with him.”

The world screeches to a halt. *Perfect? With Lilia?* You stare at him, wide-eyed, your mouth hanging open in a most undignified manner. “I’m sorry, did you just—did you just suggest that I—me—should be with your father?!”

Silver nods, looking completely at peace with his assessment, like he’s just commented on the weather. “Yes. You two get along well. You make each other laugh, and he seems fond of you. And Father... well, he deserves someone who can make him smile like that.”

Your mind is racing at 100 miles per hour. “Silver. SILVER.” You clutch your head as if physically holding your brain together will stop it from spiraling into madness. “Do you have any idea what you just said?”

Silver, ever the calm and composed knight, merely tilts his head. “Was it something strange?”

“STRANGE?!” You’re flailing now, completely losing your cool. “You just casually suggested I should date your father! Who, may I remind you, is an ancient fae with enough power to casually toss me into another dimension if he wanted!”

Silver blinks, seeming to consider this for a moment. “I don’t think he’d toss you into another dimension. He’d probably just... laugh and then take you out to dinner.”

You’re having a full-blown existential crisis. Your face is bright red, your heart is doing somersaults, and you’re not sure if you want to scream, faint, or throw yourself into the nearest fountain.

Silver, meanwhile, is just sitting there, serene and utterly oblivious to the emotional chaos he’s just unleashed upon you. “Father’s a good person,” He says softly. “I think you two would be happy together.”

“I... I...” You sputter, trying to form words but utterly failing as images of Lilia’s teasing smile and playful banter run through your mind. And then you imagine the alternative: Lilia’s serious side, the one that is somehow even more terrifyingly attractive, and you feel your heart skip a beat.

“Oh no,” you whisper, clutching your chest. “Oh no, no, no... Silver, what have you done?”

Silver looks at you with concern now, finally noticing that you’re having what can only be described as a breakdown. “Are you alright?"

“NO!” you cry, standing up and pacing back and forth in front of him. “You’ve broken me! You’ve ruined me! I’m—Silver, your father is... He’s... and I... Oh, gods, this is too much. TOO MUCH!”

Silver watches you pace for a moment before quietly saying, “You’re thinking about it, though.”

You freeze mid-step. “I—NO! Maybe? Yes? I—Why would you say that, Silver?!”

He just smiles, a soft, knowing smile. “Because it’s true.”

You slump back down beside him, groaning loudly as you cover your face with your hands. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Silver chuckles softly, resting his head back against the tree again. “I’ve heard that before.”

And as you sit there, your mind spinning with thoughts of Lilia and all the ridiculous, impossible implications Silver’s comment has brought to life, you can’t help but think that maybe—just *maybe*—he has a point.

But you’re not ready to admit that yet. Not even to yourself.

“I need a drink,” you mumble under your breath, and Silver hums in agreement.

“Father would probably help you make it,” he says, and you let out a loud groan, flopping onto the grass in dramatic defeat.

“Silver, you’re killing me.”

He just smiles that peaceful smile of his.

It’s a quiet afternoon, the sun beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the courtyard. You’re standing with Malleus and Sebek in one of the palace’s gardens, the tranquil hum of life around you contrasting with the more serious conversation that’s about to unfold. You can feel the weight of what Malleus is about to say, and your mind spins as you prepare yourself for another emotionally charged moment.

Malleus takes a deep breath, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. “For the longest time,” he begins, his voice soft and filled with an unspoken vulnerability, “I thought I would be stuck. Trapped in that cursed state forever. I had resigned myself to it, believing that it was my fate to be alone.”

You shift slightly, unsure how to respond to such raw honesty. Sebek, standing next to Malleus, is silent for once, his usual loud and defensive nature tempered by the gravity of his lord’s words.

“But then you came along,” Malleus continues, turning his glowing eyes toward you. “You broke the curse, something no one had been able to do. You gave me back my freedom, something I had lost hope of ever regaining.”

Sebek clears his throat loudly, his usual dramatic flair coming to the surface despite the tenderness of the moment. “Yes, well,” he says, voice gruff but tinged with the awkwardness of someone who isn’t quite used to expressing gratitude. “I... suppose we should be... grateful. After all, if it weren’t for you, Lord Malleus would still be... cursed, and we wouldn’t be here together as we are now.”

You blink at Sebek’s begrudging admission, feeling a small smile tug at your lips. The fact that he of all people is thanking you, even in such a roundabout way, is oddly touching.

“Wow, Sebek,” you say, voice teasing but soft. “Who knew you had it in you?”

Sebek bristles at your words, his expression a mix of indignation and embarrassment. “D-Don’t misunderstand!” he exclaims, face turning a shade redder than usual. “I’m merely stating the facts! Nothing more!”

Malleus chuckles softly at Sebek’s outburst, his usual gentle smile returning to his face. “Sebek’s gratitude, no matter how begrudging, is indeed a rarity,” he teases lightly before turning his attention back to you. “But truly, I am grateful. You’ve given me back more than just my freedom. You’ve given me back... this.”

He gestures around him, indicating the garden, the palace, the sky above. “This life, this chance to be with those I care about. And for that, I owe you a debt that I may never be able to repay.”

You shift awkwardly, feeling a strange warmth bloom in your chest. “I mean, I didn’t really set out to save anyone,” you admit, your voice light but with an edge of honesty. “I just... wanted the reward. And then maybe to go home.”

Sebek’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and he opens his mouth to argue, but Malleus holds up a hand, stopping him before he can launch into one of his dramatic tirades

You hesitate, glancing between Malleus and Sebek. “I didn’t think I’d get attached,” you admit quietly, your voice softening. “But I have. Somehow, I’ve found myself... caring about all of you. This weird little makeshift family.”

Sebek looks as though he’s about to protest the “weird” part, but a stern glance from Malleus keeps him quiet. You can see the begrudging acknowledgment in his eyes, though—he knows it’s true, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.

Malleus hums thoughtfully, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he speaks again. “Well,” he says casually, as if discussing something as simple as the weather, “if you’re so attached, perhaps we should make it official. Perhaps you should marry into the family."

You freeze. Did he just—?

You whip your head towards Malleus, completely flustered. “M-Marry?! What?!”

Sebek, on the other hand, looks as if someone just punched him in the face. His mouth opens and closes like a fish gasping for air, his eyes wide with outrage. “L-Lord Malleus, what are you suggesting?!” he sputters.

Malleus blinks, as calm as ever. “I’m suggesting marriage,” he repeats, as if it’s the most logical thing in the world. “If they are so attached to us, it seems a reasonable next step. Perhaps they should marry Lilia?”

Your face turns a bright shade of red as your heart pounds in your chest. “Wh-What?!” you stammer. “Lilia?!”

Sebek turns even redder, his face contorting in disbelief. “Master Lilia?!”

Malleus nods sagely, completely unfazed by both of your reactions. “Yes, Lilia. He has shown great affection for them, and they would fit well within our family. Would you not agree, Sebek?”

Sebek looks like he’s about to explode, but there’s an uncomfortable silence as he realizes… he can’t argue. He knows Malleus and Lilia both care about you. He knows that you’ve proven yourself to be a good person, despite his initial distrust. His mouth twitches, the words clearly struggling to escape his throat.

“I—well—Lord Malleus,” Sebek starts, looking every bit as if he’s been defeated by sheer logic. “I… I must admit… They are a suitable companion for Master Lilia… even if the idea of them marrying… well, it is quite… outrageous.”

You feel your soul leave your body as the conversation continues. Sebek can’t quite bring himself to fully agree, yet he doesn’t outright refuse the idea either. His loyalty to his lords binds him, and his begrudging acceptance of your presence has left him caught between duty and outrage.

“I—This—” you stammer, completely overwhelmed. “I—This is insane!”

Malleus looks at you with a calm smile. “Think it over,” he says, voice gentle. “You’ve already become part of our lives. Why not make it official?”

You open your mouth to protest, but the words die in your throat as you see the sincerity in his eyes. This isn’t just a flippant suggestion—it’s Malleus genuinely offering you a place in his family. But the idea of marrying Lilia? That’s… that’s a whole new level of madness.

“I—I think I need to lie down,” you mutter, pressing your hands to your temples. “This is too much.”

Malleus chuckles softly, and even Sebek seems to relax—if only a little. But as you glance between the two of them, you can’t help but feel a strange warmth in your chest. Even with all the absurdity, you know one thing for sure: you’ve found a place with them, whether you intended to or not.

The cat was just sitting there. Innocently perched on the branch, fluffy and regal like a tiny, judgmental king. You don’t even know what possessed you, really. Maybe it was those huge, adorable eyes or the way its tail flicked back and forth. But somehow, someway, you ended up halfway up a tree. Climbing a tree. For a cat.

“I just wanted to pet you,” you mutter, feeling slightly ridiculous as you hug the branch for dear life. “And now I’m stuck. Great.”

The cat stares at you, completely indifferent to your plight. You sigh, glancing down at the ground, which now seems alarmingly far away. Heights were never your thing, but in the moment, with that cute little furball teasing you, logic flew right out the window. Now, you’re clinging to the tree like a cowardly kitten yourself.

“Why did I think this was a good idea?” you groan. The cat blinks at you. “Don’t look at me like that. This is all your fault!”

And then, because fate has a terrible sense of humor, you hear a voice from below. A familiar, unmistakable voice—playful, with a hint of amusement laced through it.

“Well, well, what do we have here? It appears my dear little beastie has gotten themselves stuck.”

You nearly slip off the branch as you glance down to see Lilia standing at the base of the tree, arms crossed and an infuriatingly amused grin on his face. He looks every bit the mischievous fae, eyes twinkling with barely suppressed laughter.

“I—uh—this is—” You stammer, trying to come up with some kind of excuse, but nothing comes. You’re halfway up a tree. Because of a cat. No explanation is going to save your dignity now.

Lilia tilts his head, chuckling. “Were you planning on living up there from now on? Or should I assist you in returning to the ground?”

“Hey, don’t judge me!” you huff, cheeks burning. “The cat—look at the cat! It was really cute, okay?”

Lilia glances up at the feline, which is now licking its paw in complete disinterest. He raises an eyebrow. “Ah, yes, the cat. I see now. How could anyone resist such a noble creature?”

You groan, feeling your face get even hotter. “I—um—I might need help getting down.”

Lilia’s grin widens. “Of course, my dear. I was planning on catching you anyway.”

You freeze. “C-Catching me?”

“Mmhm. Just jump down, and I’ll catch you,” Lilia says, his tone so casual, as if catching people out of trees is just something he does every day. He spreads his arms out, waiting expectantly.

Your heart races as you eye the distance between the branch and the ground again. It’s not terribly high, but… still high enough to make you nervous. But Lilia’s standing there with that easy confidence, and the thought of staying stuck in this tree forever doesn’t exactly appeal to you either.

Taking a deep breath, you inch closer to the edge of the branch. “O-Okay. I’m going to jump.”

“Go ahead,” Lilia says, his voice soft. “I’ll catch you.”

With one last look at the disinterested cat, you finally push yourself off the branch. For a split second, there’s nothing but the rush of air—and then you feel yourself land securely in Lilia’s arms. You’re caught. Easily, gently. Like it was nothing at all.

He looks down at you, his face much closer than you anticipated. “See? I told you I would catch you.”

You’re breathless for a moment, your heart doing flips as you realize just how close you are to him. His arms are around you, holding you steady, and you can feel the warmth of his body through his clothes. He’s staring at you with that soft, amused smile, and you’re suddenly acutely aware of just how handsome he is.

“Oh no,” you whisper to yourself, “I’m swooning.”

Lilia raises an eyebrow. “Hmm?”

“Y-You’re really smooth,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself. “Like, catching me so easily and looking at me like that. It’s—it’s really unfair.”

He chuckles softly, clearly entertained by your flustered state. “Unfair, you say?”

“Yeah, like—like, you’re so effortlessly cool and charming, and I—” You freeze, suddenly realizing what you’re saying. You clamp your mouth shut, but it’s too late. The words are out, and your brain has completely short-circuited.

And then, before you even know what’s happening, the words just spill out of you in a panicked rush. “Okay, I like you! No, wait—I think I’m in love with you! I mean, how could I not be? You’re so amazing, and I just—Oh god, I’m confessing! I’m confessing right now, aren’t I? This is a confession. Oh no, this is terrible. I didn’t mean to—”

You feel your entire body heat up as you bury your face in your hands, completely mortified. Of all the ways you could’ve confessed your feelings to Lilia, this had to be the worst possible way. You weren’t ready! You were supposed to be calm and collected, not blurting it out after getting caught in a tree!

For a moment, there’s silence. And then, you hear the softest chuckle from Lilia. His arms tighten around you slightly, pulling you just a little closer.

“You’re adorable,” he says, his voice soft and full of warmth.

You peek through your fingers, confused. “Huh?”

“I’ve known for a while that your feelings for me were more than friendly,” Lilia continues, his smile gentle. “But hearing you confess like this… it’s endearing.”

You blink, trying to process his words. “Wait—you’ve known?”

Lilia nods. “You’re not as subtle as you think, my dear.”

You groan again, hiding your face in your hands once more. “This is so embarrassing…”

Lilia laughs softly, and before you know it, he leans in and presses a light, gentle kiss to your forehead. Your heart skips a beat, and you lower your hands, looking up at him in surprise.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed,” Lilia says, his eyes soft. “I’m honored to be the one you’ve chosen.”

Your heart flutters as his words sink in, and you realize that, despite your mortification, he’s… accepting your feelings. He’s not teasing you or brushing it off—he’s genuinely acknowledging your confession. And more than that… he’s reciprocating.

“Lilia…” you whisper, your face still burning with embarrassment, but also with a warmth that you can’t quite describe.

He leans in a little closer, his nose brushing against yours. “You don’t need to say anything more, my dear. Just know that I feel the same.”

And with that, Lilia closes the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a soft, sweet kiss that makes your heart race even faster. All thoughts of your earlier panic melt away, replaced by the warmth of his touch and the feeling of being completely safe in his arms.

As he pulls back, you’re left staring at him, wide-eyed and breathless. Lilia smiles down at you, his eyes twinkling with amusement and affection.

“So,” he says, his voice teasing, “was that worth climbing a tree for?”

You blink, still dazed from the kiss. “I… I think so.”

Lilia laughs softly, pressing another quick kiss to your lips before setting you down on the ground. “Next time, though, perhaps we’ll find a more dignified setting for your confessions, hmm?”

You groan, covering your face again as you mutter, “Please don’t remind me…”

But despite your embarrassment, you can’t help the small, giddy smile that creeps onto your face as you realize that, somehow, things turned out perfectly anyway.

You sit with Lilia on a bench beneath the shade of a massive oak tree, the same one he caught you from, nerves simmering beneath your calm exterior. He’s as composed as ever, leaning back against the tree with a small, amused smile playing on his lips.

Across from you sit Malleus, Silver, and Sebek, all three watching you with varying degrees of curiosity—Malleus with calm interest, Silver with that sleepy, gentle acceptance, and Sebek with what you’re sure is the beginning of a tirade bubbling just beneath the surface.

“We have some news,” Lilia says, breaking the silence with his usual playful tone. His hand slips into yours, squeezing lightly. “About us.”

Malleus’s eyes light up with interest, his draconic gaze honing in on the subtle intertwining of your hands with Lilia’s. “News?” he repeats, leaning forward slightly. “What sort of news?”

You exchange a glance with Lilia, and he gives you a nod, as if to say go on, it’s safe. Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself and blurt out, “We’re together. Like, romantically.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Then Malleus’s eyes widen, his entire face brightening with delight. “Truly?” he asks, a rare, genuine smile spreading across his face. “That is wonderful news! You will be joining the family then?”

You blink, momentarily thrown off by how happy he is. “Uh, well—eventually, I guess. We haven’t exactly planned a wedding yet…”

“But when we do,” Lilia interjects smoothly, eyes glinting with amusement, “you will be the first to receive an invitation, Malleus.”

Malleus beams, the delight practically radiating off him like sunlight. “I would expect no less. To witness your union—ah, it will be a grand day.”

Meanwhile, Silver gives you both a small, approving nod. His expression is calm, though there’s a softness in his eyes that shows he’s happy for you. “I’m glad,” he says, his voice as gentle as ever. “Father deserves someone who makes him happy. And you… you seem to do that.”

Your heart warms at the approval from Silver. “Thanks, Silver,” you say, offering him a smile in return.

And then there’s Sebek.

For a moment, he just stares at you and Lilia, his mouth working as if he’s trying to form words. You brace yourself for the inevitable protest, expecting him to shout something about how inappropriate it is, or how you could never be good enough for Lilia, or—

“You…” Sebek finally speaks, though his tone is less outraged than you anticipated. He scowls, but there’s an undeniable hint of reluctant acceptance in his eyes. “You’re together, then?”

Lilia nods, his smile never wavering. “Indeed, Sebek.”

Sebek inhales deeply, closing his eyes as if preparing for some kind of inner battle. You can almost hear him wrestling with his instincts, wanting to object but also unable to deny the truth of the situation. After a long pause, he finally exhales and mutters, “Well… I suppose… if it makes Master Lilia happy, then…”

You’re about to breathe a sigh of relief when Sebek opens his eyes again, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “But that does not mean you should grow complacent! Just because Master Lilia has chosen you does not mean you are exempt from proving yourself worthy!”

Lilia laughs softly at Sebek’s stubbornness, and you can’t help but grin. “Of course, Sebek,” you say, teasing him lightly. “I’ll do my best to live up to your high standards.”

Sebek huffs, crossing his arms. “See that you do.”

Despite his bluster, you can tell he’s not truly upset. There’s a begrudging acceptance in his stance, the same way someone might finally accept that their favorite hero isn’t perfect, but still worthy of respect. Sebek might not be able to fully wrap his head around the idea of you and Lilia being together, but deep down, you can tell he doesn’t disapprove. Not really.

Malleus, meanwhile, is still beaming. “I look forward to your wedding,” he says, sounding genuinely excited. “It will be a grand celebration. And I will be the first to celebrate your union.”

You laugh, finally feeling the tension melt away. “You’ll be the first to get an invitation, don’t worry.”

Lilia squeezes your hand again, his eyes warm as he looks at you. “Indeed,” he says softly, “and I think it will be a lovely celebration.”

As you sit there, surrounded by Lilia’s peculiar little family, you can’t help but feel a swell of emotion. For all their eccentricities—Malleus’s dragon-like mannerisms, Silver’s sleepy but sincere approval, and Sebek’s stubborn loyalty—you’ve somehow found yourself among people who care. Who, in their own ways, are happy to see you and Lilia together.

And as you glance at Lilia, who’s still watching you with that fond, amused expression, you realize something important: this makeshift family of fae and knights… they’ve accepted you.

Flaws and all.

The living room felt a little too tense for your taste today. You were sprawled out on a chair, arms crossed, listening to the absurd conversation that seemed to have spiraled out of control.

Malleus, sitting at the head of the table, had the "serious prince" expression that made you roll your eyes every time you saw it. Lilia was perched on the back of his chair, his legs dangling, thoroughly amused by the current predicament. Sebek stood in his usual soldier-like stance, ready to protect everyone from... squirrels, apparently. And Silver was doing his best to stay upright while leaning on a wall. He was losing that battle.

“It’s time to discuss the prophecy” Malleus said, his voice carrying an ominous weight you found ridiculous. “The Squirrel Plague will bring misfortune. Entire kingdoms will fall to their tiny paws.”

You blinked. “We’re seriously talking about squirrels?”

Lilia nodded with an overly grave face. “Indeed, my dear. Squirrels are resourceful creatures. Vicious even, if the stories are true.”

Sebek puffed up his chest, eyes blazing with his trademark fervor. “MY LORD, IF THOSE RODENTS BELIEVE THEY CAN THREATEN YOU—"

You leaned forward, waving your hand dismissively. “Alright, alright, let's not hype up the squirrels too much, okay? This whole situation is ridiculous.”

Silver, who had just about managed to pry his eyes open, muttered, “It’s not just the squirrels. I heard some people talking about... uh, the Saint being accused of spying or something.”

The room fell into silence for a second, everyone digesting that little bombshell.

Lilia’s grin widened as if the idea of spies delighted him. “Spies, you say? This is getting quite intriguing.”

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Yeah, no thanks. Squirrels are bad enough, but spies? I’m not dealing with this.”

Malleus turned towards you, a slight frown on his lips. “I assumed you wished to stay here. You haven’t mentioned wanting to leave before.”

You sighed, shrugging. “I mean, I don't have any attachments to this place. I stayed because you guys were here. But right now, let's bounce. Immediately. The squirrels can have this place.”

Silver, rubbing his eyes, nodded. “They're right. It’s a lot of hassle, and honestly, the squirrels are starting to weird me out. I saw one trying to chew through the wall this morning.”

Sebek turned to Silver with his mouth agape. “A SQUIRREL DARED TO ATTACK OUR DOMAIN?!”

Lilia chuckled, nodding. “They’re getting bolder, indeed. I even had one throw an acorn at me this morning. It was a declaration of war, I tell you.”

You waved your hands at them. “Guys, seriously. I don’t care if we’re at war with the squirrels. I just don’t want to be here. Briar Valley sounds much nicer, doesn’t it? No plagues, no spy accusations, no rabid rodents.”

Malleus blinked at you, then slowly smiled. “If you wish to leave, then there’s no reason for us to stay. I thought perhaps you'd not want to leave the place you grew up in, that you would be attached.”

“Attached?” You gestured dramatically at the window, where you swore you could see a squirrel watching with beady little eyes. “Nope. I’m only attached to you four, and I’m not risking my life for some acorn-flinging rodents.”

Silver yawned, already giving in. “I say we go. Less hassle, more sleep.”

Lilia gave a theatrical sigh leaning on Malleus. “Well, I suppose the adventure ends here. Back to Briar Valley it is! And I’ll be sure to bring along some acorns... perhaps we can keep the spirit of battle alive.”

Sebek, his voice still full of misplaced enthusiasm, nodded fiercely. “IF MY LORD DECIDES TO RETURN, THEN I SHALL ENSURE OUR JOURNEY IS WITHOUT PERIL! THE SQUIRRELS SHALL NOT—”

You interrupted with a grin. “Yes, yes, Sebek. You’ll protect us from the squirrels. Good job.”

Lilia hopped off Malleus’s chair, already halfway to the door. “I’ll go prepare the portal. Who knows, maybe we can get there in time for the fireflies.”

You got up too, stretching and giving one last look at the living room. “I think I’ve had enough of prophecies, plagues, and espionage.”

Lilia grins "Maybe we could have our wedding in Briar Valley". Malleus, now entirely on board, nodded with regal finality. “Then we shall return to Briar Valley. I trust the squirrels will not miss us.”

Lilia snickered, and you felt him squeeze your shoulder. “Perhaps we should bring a souvenir,” he mused. “A squirrel, perhaps, as a reminder of this peculiar little chapter of our lives.”

You shook your head, laughing. “I think I’d rather forget it altogether.”

With that, you and your four favorite Briar Valley residents left—leaving behind the squirrels, the spies, and every bit of drama that had nothing to do with you. Peace, it turned out, was just a portal away.

With that, the group made their decision—no heroic stand against the prophecy, no attempts to sort out spy dramas. Just a swift, sensible retreat to where things were far less complicated. And honestly? That suited you just fine.

Alright! I liked writing this a lot, It's not as chaotic as my other isekai ones but I like how it turned out!

Also if the formatting is off, I'm so sorry but I fell spectacularly on my ass while ice-skating and can't sit long enough to edit on my laptop.

Also quick poll for the next trash novel one, I'll definitely finish all of them, this is just for which one should I post first. They're all almost done.

Series Masterlist ; My Masterlists

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #lilia vanrouge #lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia twst #lilia x you #isekai #fem reader

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hadersversion · 6 months ago

Text

I. i can fix him (no really i can)

“he had a halo of the highest grade, he just hadn’t met me yet.”

pairing: rafe cameron x innocent pogue! reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: 18+ minors dni!! language, soft rafe cameron because my boy just needs some love, slow burn!!

mood board!

“hey,” i said, nudging him with my foot. “hey, rafe, i think it’s time for you to get up.”

i look down at the boy who was passed out on the ground of the beach. his shaved head covered in sand as beer bottles surrounded him. his eyes fluttered open at me, staring at me. “w-where the hell am i?” he said, slowly sitting up.

“the beach, it’s 6:30 in the morning.” i sigh, looking at my watch. “i assume you were at a party here last night and got ditched on the beach by your friends.”

i watched as he looked around the empty beach and groaned, covering his face with his hands and yawning. “fuck.” he mumbled to himself. he ran his hands down once before looking back at me. “thanks, for uh-….”

i laugh to myself. “making sure you were alive? don’t mention it.”

he nods with a smirk. “yeah, that.” we stay there in silence. “i’m sorry, w-what’s your name again? i recognize you from your friends i just…”

“y/n y/l/n.” i nod at him.

“y/n y/l/n.” he repeats back at me, not once breaking eye contact with me.

i feel my face heat up, not knowing what i’m feeling in this exact moment. this is rafe fucking cameron, kook prince and sworn enemy to my friends. he’s not a good person. i know who he is and i should hate him, but when his eyes pierce through me like that…like he knows all my secrets….that’s when i start to question reality. “well, i should get going.” i say, pointing awkwardly to the beach.

“it’s 6:30 in the morning, where could you possibly be going?” he asks, pushing his knees up and resting his arms on them.

i sigh and look around, feeling like i’m in the hot seat. “uh…it’s uh…it’s dumb, you wouldn’t wanna know.” i try to dismiss him.

“no, i wanna know, tell me.” he says, sternly.

i bite my lip and sigh. “towatchthedolphins.” i say in a fast whisper.

“what was that?” he asks with a cocky smile, making me blush. “i couldn’t hear ya, could ya speak up?”

“i’m watching the dolphins!” i say more clearer, looking down at him. “i’ve been waking up early and watching the dolphins. this is like their prime time, so i like to sit and watch them while i have my breakfast.” i admit to him.

i wait there, expecting him to laugh or do something heinous that rafe cameron would do to a pogue. but he doesn’t. he just nods. “cool, i didn’t know that was like a thing.”

did i take one of kie’s edibles this morning by accident? did i actually never wake up to my alarm and i’m still tucked away in bed? or did rafe cameron just have a super normal reaction to something i said to him?

“yeah, right now is the best season for it.” i inform him with a shy smile on my face.

he continues to stare at me with those fucking perfect blue eyes. he rakes over my body once and stands up. did he just check me out? “well, y/n, enjoy those dolphins. i should probably get home before my dad has a bitch fit. thanks again.” he waves goodbye to me before staggering away towards the exit of the beach. my body lets out a breathe that i didn’t even know i was holding and i start to feel tingly inside.

what the fuck just happened?

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

after that, i seem to find rafe cameron everywhere. as i ride my bike to work, go to the beach, hang out with the pogues. he’s clouded up my brain and i have no idea what to do. it’s not like i can tell anyone, i’d be marked with a scarlet T for traitor. but my thoughts can’t stop themself from being infiltrated by him.

“yo, y/n, everything cool?” jj asks me, sipping from his beer.

he snaps me from my rafe cameron brain rot, taking me by surprise. “yeah, everything’s alright. sorry, just a little tired.”

a whole group of us hang out by the beach at the boneyard, the usual pogues, some kooks who we invited in to fuck with, and the vacationers. everything was going alright, until i saw him.

“ain’t no fuckin way.” i hear jj spit.

rafe and his friends stroll up to the party, with a few girls scattered around them. i feel my face goes hot as my friends spit their remarks about him.

“what makes this douchebag think it’s okay to just show up here?” i hear kiara say.

“i don’t know but i don’t like it.” john b adds in.

my eyes can’t seem to leave his figure. he looks just as handsome as i remember from the beach. i know i am staring but i just cannot seem to care. but my brain short wires when he looks up, meeting my gaze with a cocky smirk. shit.

i feel my face get darker as i quickly avert my gaze down to my feet. "uh, i'm gonna get a beer. anyone want one?" but before my friends can even answer my question, i quickly make my way over to the coolers. once i know i am out of their sight, i take a well needed deep breathe and try to ground myself. my brain feels fuzzy with thoughts of rafe cameron but i have to push them down.

i bend over to grab a beer from the cooler when i hear a familiar voice behind me. "mind if i grab one?" i quickly turn my head to see rafe, staring into his blue eyes like they were the goddamn eighth wonder of the world.

he's so close yet so far away, i can smell the expensive cologne he has on. my brain gets off of autopilot and screams at me to put space between us, which i attempt to do. but before i can think, i'm tripping over my own feet, almost falling back. but i feel rafe's large hand quickly land on my lower back, saving me from the tumble.

"woah, there, did you already have that much to drink?" he jokes.

i stare at him, my face probably matching the color of a budweiser can. "i...uh...i..um..." i feel myself babbling on, unable to form a single thought as he has his hands on my body. "s-sorry about that. but i...i've only had one beer, i'm just a total klutz sometimes i swear."

he keeps his hand on my back, i can feel him slightly rubbing it, sending goosebumps all over my body. he keeps looking into my eyes, which seems to be his favorite hobby at this point. "well, i'm glad i caught ya." we stand there in silence for what feels like an eternity, until i remember where i am. who i am here with.

my friends.

i frantically look around, making sure they aren't looking at me dying under rafe’s touch. i pull away from him quickly.

"don't worry they aren't looking." he reassures, grabbing my beer and opening it for me. "i assume it's your friends you are looking for." he hands me back the cold beverage, our fingers brushing against each other.

i quickly snap my hand back and look up at him, he has a small smile on his face as he looks down at me. "sorry, but, i mean...you understand, right? my friends don't like you, you don't like them. if they see me talking over here with you...it'll be a whole thing."

"i didn't peg you as someone who cares about what other people thought about them. i don't know, i mean you did admit to me very easily your love for dolphin watching." he smirks as he grabs a can of beer and opens it. "just saying."

i want to hide away forever. "p-please don't mention that to anyone else. please." i beg with an awkward smile.

"i won't, i won't. don't get so freaked out." he takes a long sip of beer. "it's kinda cute." he says so nonchalantly.

did he just call me cute?

this is a prank, this is merely a big joke to him. it has to be.

i can tell i took too long to process what he just said because he nudges me lightly with his elbow. "did i lose you there?"

i shake my head and laugh. "sorry, i'm all good." we stand there, sipping our beers in silence. "why are you here?" i ask with no hesitation, which earns me a wide-eye reaction from rafe. "that was rude but...like for real, why? you never come to pogue parties. i thought we were too beneath you to ever join us."

"i mean, you have a point." he looks down at me with a smirk, which makes me flip him off. he chuckles at me and sips his beer. "honesty?"

"please." i say.

he sighs and looks around. "i'm here to see you."

i choke on the sip of beer i'm taking, too shocked at what he just told me. i watch as he steps forward in concern and tries to put his hand on my back, but i move away quickly. i cough agressively before turning to him. "i-i'm sorry, what?" i almost laugh in his face.

"i'm pretty sure you heard me, y/n. i'm here for you." he admits.

i stare at him, waiting for him to laugh, admit that it was a joke, or even a ploy to mess with the pogues like some kind of goddamn trojan horse. "you're serious?"

"i think you would know if i'm lying." he shrugs.

i stand there, unable to wrap my head around what he just said to me. "you're so full of shit." i blurt out.

he just laughs. "am i now?"

"you're here to see me? the girl whose name you couldn't even remember a few days ago?" i cock my eyebrow at him.

"is it so horrible to believe?" he questions. i look at him, trying to tell if this is real or fake. he waves his hand in front of my face. "i lost you there again."

"i'm sorry, it's just...i'm me...and you're you. we exist on totally different planets...universes." i tell him.

"yet here we are, right next to each other on planet earth." he says.

he got me there.

"y/n!?" i hear kiara yell.

rafe turns his head to the voice calling my name and then back to me. "that's your cue to leave, i think."

i cannot turn away from him, too dumbfounded about the past 5-minute conversation we just had. "you're not slick." i say, starting to walk away backwards so i'm facing him.

"i didn't think i was being slick!" he says, with his hands up in his defence.

"i see through you and your lies, rafe cameron! i really do!" i yell at him as i get further away.

"yeah, i'd like to see you try, y/n y/l/n!" he shouts back, smiling at me.

i crack a smile back to him and flip him off before walking into the crowd, looking for kiara.

she comes up and puts her shoulder around me. "you all good? was he bothering you?" she asks, looking back to where rafe and i were.

i follow her gaze and see rafe still standing there with that same look on his face. "no, he wasn't. i'm all good, i swear." i say honestly. "just having a small talk."

"with the kook prince? no one ever just has a 'small talk' with rafe cameron, y/n." she says, squeezing me tighter.

"well i guess i'm the first person to ever do so." i shrug and continue to walk back towards the boys, trying to hide the stupid smile rafe cameron put on my face.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron #drew starkey #obx #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron₊˚ෆ #obx₊˚ෆ #kaila’s fics₊˚ෆ

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satorurize · 4 months ago

Text

He wanted them three rounds, DC had to come help him

Pairings: Established relationship, bf!gojo, reader is AFAB, a little lovesick gojo, he's overworked :(

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, freaky!gojo, marathon sex, p in v, (multiple) creampies and orgasms, squirting, feral gojo, sex in general.

Gojo Satoru is a freak..

Rumors about him being an absolute slut is true, but there is no bigger example than Satoru who is a slut and a virgin, a walking contradiction, before he met you.

Satoru looks at you in almost apprehensiveness when you give him a soft gaze at the revelation. This wasn't a look of disappointment, it looked like....pity. And Satoru hated being pitied more than anything.

He's a little embarrassed, although you reassure him that it's something you will never care about.

"You are literally juggling too many things with barely three hours of sleep, and virginity is a social construct anyway.." You shrug, looking up at him hovering over you, his tip nuzzled between the ingress of your sopping pussy, and oh how he thought that the pity would make his cock soft but it didn't, it just made it harder. It was a little pathetic, the way his cock was so easy that mere words of care and tenderness and acknowledgement for his furious schedule has got him rock solid, with the pearls of his precum clustering on the exterior of your sweet cunt. He was that love starved.

It took everything to not give your pussy mauling thrusts already, he was never the one to talk about how he indeed wanted a break sometimes and he wouldn't even now, especially being this horny and excited that he felt like a dog in heat. He had more than a good idea of how to go on about it, he had seen it in the bad porno that never appealed to him.

"Sweetheart..just let me put it in, I feel like my cock is gonna explode..I don't want to think of a bunch of blobs that I exorcise, not very hot.." He chuckled cheekily, leaning into your cheek, looking at you with the periphery of his eyes with a lecherous gaze, planting hot, open mouthed kisses onto your jaw and neck while he ached.

"Always a brat.." You sighed, grabbing his endowed cock from the base, pushing it into your velvety walls with a look of challenge and amusement laced onto your face.

After that, all hell broke lose. There was nothing that would stop Gojo Satoru now, not even if he was to be kept caged within his infinity. He would break it, just to discern your sweet, sweet cunt.

The challenge that was plastered onto your face just vanished, your assumption that Satoru would stop just after the first round with the orgasm that hit him with the speed of light, which made him finish so fast that it was deplorable, was so so wrong. He went on, and on and on.

And Gojo Satoru was innately confident, the fact that this was his first time didn't matter. He was always explorative, always excessive. Bold of you to assume he understood the concept of moderation.

"O-oh..fuckk..Toru.." You looked up to him with your glassy, nearly red rimmed eyes from the nth orgasm of the night, your cloying moans just made him keep going. Your was pussy puffy and clit violently engorged after being fucked this thoroughly.

"U-uh-huh..yeah, you like that..fuuuck baby, look at you.." He cooed with a feral grin on his lips as he steadily moved his hips, keeping your legs hoisted up on his shoulders, getting the hang of it. His hip movements no longer uncoordinated. He had always been a fast learner. He stills his hips with a series of whimpers as he came with hot white, thick ropes into your womb, pulling out with a lewd pop that spilled the cum stuffed inside down to your ass. You moaned softly, hazy and a little disoriented as your fluttering pussy pushed it all out.

He hummed at the sight, tapping and massaging his now agitatingly red tip onto your clit, he himself could feel his brain seem afloat, reverberating to take you again even after the multiple orgasms. He was dead set.

He hissed softly with widened eyes, in surprise and amusement, a full blown throaty laugh echoing his throat when you squirted, gushing out like a dam. He vigorously rubbed his sensitive cock on your sloshing pussy, his cock unbearably hard again. He was hooked, addicted. To you.

He grasped your hips, pulling you forward which made you mewl at the suddenness. He pressed his hefty weight on your body, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. If he had a laceration on his brain from the way this image of you burned in his head, sprawled underneath him, all flushed, sweaty and a mess, just for him. He would die rather than using his RCT.

"God baby..you washed my cum away, gonna hafta, fill you up again.."

©𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐢𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬

Plagarism not authorised.

m.list!

#gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru #gojo smut

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oppopotamus · 9 months ago

Note

i have a toji brainrot rn.

dom!male!reader (younger than toji but still an adult) wanting to fck toji (dadbod toji yum) and toji doesn't believe that reader will be able to pleasure him.

toji gets wrecked (maybe some overstimulation and squirting as well teehee) and he gets smitten and addicted. 🤭

My next door neighbour is a hot dilf??

toji fushiguro x dom top male reader

srry this took so long I took a HUGEE break from writing

listened to Katy Perry while I wrote this which may or may not have affected my writing

Warning: NSFW, dilf toji, top reader, thigh spanking, toji passes out twice, toji cries, reader gets mean i guess??

Toji, your hot dilf neighbour, the guy who lives in the apartment next to yours, he's only across the hall.

You need this man, even if it's the last fucking thing you do.

You will not give up, you will persevere and fuck the living shit out of this total dilf.

You REFUSE to give up.

So that's why you were in front of his door, looking directly up at this dilf.

"Uh, hey!" You tried to sound confident but the sweat on your palms and your nervous smile gave it away that you were, in fact, not confident.

"Ya need sum'?" Toji's deep, rough voice sent shivers down your spine. His voice was so hot, you needed to hear him moan in that voice.

"Oh, uh, yeah..." 'Quick! Think of something!' You said in your mind.

"Uh, uh- Uhm... sugar!" 'Sugar? Fucking sugar? What kind of fucking response is sugar?!'

"Sugar." Toji repeated your word.

'Shit! He probably thinks I'm crazy!'

"You need to borrow some... sugar?" Toji raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest as he looked down at you.

"Uhm... yeah." You say, wiping the sweat on your palms onto your pants as you stand there very awkwardly in the front door.

"I think I have some left... come in." Toji says as he walks into his apartment, leaving the door open for you to follow.

You nod and laugh awkwardly, following in after him and into the kitchen.

You're literally shaking from nerves, you pinch yourself to steady yourself but instead you end up letting out an, "ow!"

Toji quickly turns around with a raised eyebrow, "you okay, kid?"

You shake yourself off and nod quickly, "yup! Just, uh, stubbed my toe!"

Toji raises an eyebrow at that, he doesn't know how you stubbed your toe considering you were standing in the middle of the kitchen, not next to anything.

He just turns around and grabs a mug to collect some sugar.

"And I'm not a kid, by the way... I'm in college, I'm an adult."

"Coulda' fooled me." Toji scoffs and grabs the bag of sugar before pouring some into a mug.

"I don't look like a kid! I'm, like, average height for someone my age! A kid isn't this tall!"

Toji just looks you up and down with a smirk and hands you the mug filled with sugar.

Your cheeks turn pink when Toji looks you up and down with that sexy smirk.

"Okay, so you may not be a kid, but you're definitely a virgin. You stutter and blush every time I look at ya."

You immediately stutter again, "I most certainly am not a virgin!"

"Please, you wouldn't even know how to please a guy like me." Toji scoffs and rolls his eyes.

"First of all, I'm not a virgin, second of all, I totally would know how to!"

"Really?" Toji takes a few steps towards you, his arms crossed over his chest, "Prove it then."

Prove it?! You say in your head.

"P-Prove it?" Your brain short-circuits at that, is this seriously happening?

"You heard me."

"Oh."

Not even a second later he's grabbing your hand and leading you to his bedroom, causing you to drop the mug of sugar onto the floor, but neither of you care about that right now.

"Prove it quickly, my son's gonna be home soon." Toji sits down on the edge of the bed, looking at you expectingly.

He has a son?! He really is a dilf!!

"A-Ah, alright then..."

You take a few hesitant steps towards Toji on the bed, you've never slept with a guy this hot before, you're usually so confident in bed but this guy makes you so nervous!

"U-Uhm, I'm gonna start now..." You say shakily as you reach a hand out and drag your index finger down from Toji's chin to collarbone, brushing over his Adam's apple which surprisingly makes him shiver.

"You're so hot." You desire starts to take control, clogging your mind and blocking out all the anxiety you previously felt.

"Thanks, kid." Toji says before letting out a quiet yelp as he's pushed down onto the bed, "That was quick-"

"Stop calling me 'kid'. It's annoying."

You glare at him before gently running your hands down Toji's torso, down to his hips, giving them a squeeze.

"M' not a kid... I know what I'm doing."

"I'll believe it when I see it." Toji scoffs.

"You'll believe it soon." You say as you hook your fingers under the waistband of his grey sweatpants and pull them down along with his boxers to just below his ass.

"You're already hard, really?" You tease with a smirk before reaching a hand out to give a single pump to his cock, making Toji grunt and grit his teeth when you pull your hand back.

You crouch down to drag his pants and boxers down to his ankles before pulling them off and spreading his legs apart so you can see his hole.

"You're so goddamn hot." You practically drool as you sit on your knees, your hands placed firmly on the insides of his thighs to spread his legs apart as you bring your head close to lick his hole.

When you see Toji's pleased reaction you keep going, licking and fingering him open until you deem him ready enough to take your cock.

You stand up again and unzip your jeans, pulling your pants and boxers down just enough to let your cock spring free.

"Jesus, you've actually got a big dick." Now it's Toji's turn to feel flustered when he sees your cock in all it's glory.

"You'll be even more impressed once it's actually inside you."

You smirk and grip the underside of Toji's left thigh, you push it back and use your other hand to grab your dick, slapping it against Toji's hole a few times, making the man squirm.

"You gonna put it in or wha' Ah!" Toji's eyes widen and he groans as you press the tip in.

"For an old guy you're hella tight..." You grunt and slowly push the rest of your length in. Once you're all the way in you give it a minute for Toji to adjust before you start slowly moving.

You thrust in and out slowly. brushing against his prostate each time you thrust back in.

Toji lets out a long string of moans and grunts as you move back and forth, in and out. "J-Jesus... y-you actually know what y-you're doing, h-huh?" Toji can't help but smile in ecstasy as you speed up your thrusts, "Hhholy shit-!"

Toji groans and grips the bed sheets tightly, his knuckles turning white.

"Haah, ffuck!" You moan and grab onto his hips tightly as you speed up, getting faster with each thrust.

"Oh, fuck!" Toji squeezes his eyes shut, a few tears falling down the side of his face from pure pleasure.

Toji can't believe how fast it happens, but he cums almost instantly, he blacks out for a moment until he comes back to his senses when he feels a hard smack on his thigh.

He yelps and opens his eyes, immediately moaning again once he sees you're still fucking him.

"Y-You're still g-going?"

You spank his thigh again, "I haven't even cum yet."

You groan and throw your head back, you're still gripping his hips tightly, he's sure to be bruised by now.

Toji feels as though this has gone on forever, when it's only been fifteen minutes since you started, but to him it's felt like an eternity with how many times he's came.

Toji cums again and again, he's crying at this point but he doesn't dare ask you to stop.

It's not for another twenty minutes later till you cum, Toji sees stars when it finally happens, he cums so hard he blacks out, falling limp on the bed.

You come back to your senses and immediately freak out, "Toji?!"

You look down at him worriedly, when you see that he's breathing you calm down, you have no idea what to do so you do what any normal person would do.

You pull your pants back up and walk out of the room, quietly shutting it behind you.

You walk to the front door and open it only to see a teenage boy who's about to open the door.

You immediately stop in your tracks and have no idea what to say, you just quietly step outside and past the kid, the kid eyeing you warily.

"Uhm... you Toji's kid?" You ask awkwardly.

"Yeah... I'm Megumi..." The kid, or Megumi, says, still glaring at you.

"Uhm, maybe don't go into your dad's room for a while..." Is all you say before you run away, back into your apartment.

"What a weirdo..." Megumi says out loud to himself before walking inside.

#male reader #male reader blog #male reader smut #top male reader #dom male reader #toji fushiguro #jjk #jjk x male reader #jjk toji

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mmso-notlikethat · 26 days ago

Text

me thinking about drunk buck again? shocker

"You know my boyf—mm, no, my ex b’yfrienddd," Buck slurred, pointing vaguely at the man sitting beside him. The guy— some guy named Jake, or maybe Jade... something like that—just nodded like this was the most riveting conversation of his life. "Mmm yes, he is my ex now. Anyway, he was great! No, no, wait, he’s my ex, he’s awful, you see."

The dude hummed in agreement, his lips twitching upward as if he were trying not to laugh. "Seems like it," he said mildly.

Buck squinted not looking at him. "You—you don’t even know him. He’s... complicated. Like, the most annoying person on the planet but also... amazing." He let out a deep, melodramatic sigh and took another sip from his glass. "He does this thing, this... smirk thing, and it’s like—like he knows everything about me, and it drives me insane. Ugh."

"That does sound annoying," the man—Jake said, tilting his head in mock sympathy.

"Right?!" Buck exclaimed, slamming his glass down on the counter. "But then he’d do something stupidly nice like, I don’t know, make me breakfast when I didn’t even ask or fix my stupid shelf that broke because I’m bad at, uh, shelves. And suddenly, I’m like, 'Wow, maybe I’ll just marry this guy.' But noooooo. He had to go and—ugh—be right. About everything."

Jake didn’t say anything, just quirked an eyebrow as Buck kept rambling.

"And now he’s my ex. You heard that part, right? My ex!” Buck hiccuped, slapping his hand over his mouth. "Oops. Sorry. Excuse me."

"Forgiven," Jake said, his tone unreadable. He sipped his drink like this was just another Tuesday.

Buck frowned at him, his drunk brain scrambling for something clever to say. He failed. "You’re very chill, you know that? Like... annoyingly chill. You remind me of him. My ex. I don’t like it. Or maybe I do. I don’t know. Ughhh."

“Must’ve been quite the guy."

Buck sighed, the weight of the world settling onto his shoulders. "He was. He... he really was."

For a moment, neither of them said anything. The silence felt heavy, like it was trying to tell Buck something he couldn’t quite hear. Then he hiccuped again, breaking the spell.

"You’re cool, though," Buck muttered, waving his glass at the guy before tipping it back. "Not like him. But also... kinda like him. Weird."

Jake just smiled faintly, not saying a word.

Buck leaned heavily on the counter, staring at his empty glass like it was the source of all his problems. "You don’t get it. He’s the worst. Like... so smug. Always thinking he knows everything. And you know what? He doesn’t! He doesn’t know me! He doesn’t—hiccup—know what I want. No one does!" He jabbed his finger at the man beside him for emphasis.

Jake, still calm as ever, took a sip of his drink and nodded. "Sounds like a real piece of work."

Buck whipped his head around so fast he nearly fell off the stool. "Whoa, hey! You don’t get to say that," he snapped, his words slurring but his glare surprisingly sharp.

Jake raised an eyebrow, clearly unfazed. "Why not? You just said it."

"Yeah, but—" Buck flailed his hands dramatically, nearly knocking his glass off the counter. "I can say it. I dated him. You? You don’t even know him! You’re just some... some random guy!"

"Fair point," Jake said with a shrug, but there was the faintest twitch of amusement at the corner of his mouth.

Buck narrowed his eyes, his very drunk brain working overtime to keep up. "He’s not that bad, okay? I mean, yeah, he’s annoying and bossy and—" He paused, gesturing vaguely as if the words were just out of reach. "And stubborn. But he’s also, like... thoughtful and—" His voice softened, almost wistful. "Kind. He cared. About me. About everyone. Even when he didn’t say it out loud."

Jake hummed, his tone unreadable. "Doesn’t sound so awful."

"Exactly!" Buck said, throwing his hands up. "That’s what I’m saying! He’s... ugh, he’s the worst best person I’ve ever met. And now he’s gone. And it’s my fault." His voice cracked at the end, and he quickly ducked his head, pretending to study the wood grain of the bar.

"Maybe it’s not your fault," Jake offered, his voice quieter now.

Buck laughed bitterly. "Oh, it is. I mean, I wanted him to stay. I asked him to stay. But he was all, like, 'You’re still figuring yourself out,' and 'I’m your first, not your last.' Like, what does that even mean?!"

Jake’s expression flickered—something Buck couldn’t quite name, not in his current state. "Maybe he thought he was doing the right thing."

"Yeah, well, it wasn’t!" Buck snapped, slamming his hand down on the counter. "It wasn’t the right thing for me. I didn’t want right, I wanted him. And now I’m here, talking to you, and he’s... I don’t even know where he is."

Jake didn’t respond right away, just sat there, his drink untouched. After a moment, he said, "Maybe he’s closer than you think."

Buck frowned, squinting like the words were a puzzle he couldn’t solve. But before he could ask what that was supposed to mean, another hiccup cut him off, and he groaned, burying his face in his hands.

"You’re weird," he mumbled through his fingers. "Why are you even listening to me?"

Jake chuckled softly, the sound warm and familiar in a way that tugged at something deep in Buck’s chest. "I guess I’m just a sucker for a good story."

"He is!" Buck said, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "He’s—ugh. He’s just this guy, you know? But not just a guy. He’s... he’s smart, and thoughtful, and really good at all the boring, practical stuff I suck at. Like, he can fix anything. He once rebuilt an engine in his garage for fun! Who does that?!" Buck paused, hiccupping before continuing. "And he has this way of looking at you like you’re the most important thing in the world, even when you’re being a complete idiot. Especially when you’re being a complete idiot. And then, just when you think you’ve got him figured out, he’ll say something so... so him—and it’s exactly what you needed to hear, even if you didn’t want to."

His voice cracked, and he dropped his gaze to his empty glass. "He made me feel like... like maybe I was worth sticking around for, you know? But then he left anyway. So what does that say about me?"

Buck groaned, dragging his hands down his face. "I don’t even know why I’m talking about him. He’s gone, and he probably doesn’t think about me at all anymore."

"Maybe he does," Jake said, his voice calm but carrying a weight Buck couldn’t quite process in his state.

Buck snorted, his head wobbling as he tried to look at Jake. "Nah. He’s too busy being perfect somewhere else. Fixing things, smirking at someone else, probably making them breakfast now." His voice cracked again, and he slumped forward, leaning heavily on the counter. "It’s not fair. I don’t want to miss him, but I do. All the time. Every damn day."

Jake stayed quiet for a moment, swirling the remnants of his drink. "Sounds like you really loved him."

Buck blinked blearily at Jake. "Yeah. Yeah, I did. Still do. But it doesn’t matter. He left."

"Maybe he thought you deserved better," Jake murmured, his tone so soft Buck almost missed it.

"Better?" Buck slurred, laughing bitterly. "There’s no better. He was better. He was it. And I messed it up."

Jake leaned back, his eyes studying Buck for a long moment. "Maybe he thought he was the one who messed it up."

Buck frowned at that, the words bouncing around in his drunken mind without fully landing. He opened his mouth to respond, but a yawn caught him off guard, and his head lolled forward slightly.

"Okay," Jake said, standing up and patting Buck’s shoulder. "Let’s get you home before you pass out here."

"I’m not—" Buck started to protest, but his words dissolved into another yawn. "Fine. Whatever. But only ’cause you’re so... so good at listening, Jake."

Jake chuckled, sliding Buck’s arm around his shoulders as he helped him off the stool. "Sure, that’s why."

The trip to the loft was a blur for Buck, his head bobbing as he mumbled fragments of sentences. "He used to—hiccup—used to cook pancakes on Sundays," he muttered as they walked. "Never liked syrup, though. Just butter. Who doesn’t like syrup?"

Jake made a noncommittal noise, holding Buck steady as they reached the loft.

When they reached the loft, Buck fumbled with his keys before Jake gently took them from him and unlocked the door. Inside, Buck stumbled forward, nearly tripping over his own feet.

"Whoa, easy there," Jake said, catching him with an arm around his waist. "We’re not done yet. Bed’s upstairs, right?"

Buck blinked at him, bleary-eyed, before nodding vaguely in the direction of the stairs. "Yeah... stairs. Stupid stairs. Who needs stairs anyway? I should just sleep right here." He sagged slightly, leaning heavily into Jake.

Jake sighed, adjusting Buck’s arm over his shoulders. "Come on, you’re almost there."

They moved toward the stairs, Buck dragging his feet and muttering incomprehensibly. Jake tightened his hold, practically lifting him as they climbed. "You’re heavier than you look, you know that?" Jake muttered under his breath.

"’M not heavy," Buck slurred, his head lolling against Jake’s shoulder. "You’re just... weak. Bet you’ve never carried someone out of a fire or... or something heroic like that."

Jake smirked faintly, his voice low and even. "You’d be surprised."

By the time they reached the top, Buck was practically draped over Jake, who maneuvered him carefully toward the bed. He eased Buck down onto the mattress, keeping a hand on his shoulder to steady him as Buck flopped back with a groan.

"Finally," Buck mumbled, eyes half-closed. "Hate those stairs. Hate... everything."

Jake crouched down to untie Buck’s shoes, his movements steady and practiced, as though this wasn’t the first time he’d done this. "Don’t worry, I’ve got it from here," he said softly.

Buck blinked down at him, his vision swimming. "You’re... nice," he mumbled. "Too nice. You don’t even... you don’t even know me." He hiccupped, his head lolling to one side. "I mean, you’re here, so you’re not that bad. But… you’re not him."

Jake’s hand stilled for a fraction of a second before he resumed tugging off Buck’s shoes.

"He’d probably—hiccup—he’d probably say I’m too much. Like I push too hard, or I don’t stop to think. But I just… I just try, you know? Maybe I try too much..." Buck’s voice cracked, and he let out a breathy laugh. "And now look. No one’s here."

Jake paused, his jaw tightening as he set the shoes neatly by the bed. He glanced up briefly, something flickering across his face, but Buck didn’t notice.

Jake’s hands moved to unbutton Buck’s jeans, and Buck let out a tired laugh. "I’m not... I’m not that kinda guy, Jake."

Jake snorted softly. "Relax. You’re safe."

He eased the jeans off and set them aside, then reached for Buck’s shirt. Buck swatted weakly at him but barely had the energy to protest. "You’re... too good at this. Bet you’re a pro at babysitting drunk idiots."

"Something like that," Jake murmured, pulling the blanket up and tucking it snugly around Buck’s shoulders. For a moment, his hand lingered on the edge of the blanket, his eyes scanning Buck’s face as if committing him to memory.

Buck stirred, his eyes fluttering half-open. "I miss him," he mumbled, his voice barely audible. His hand flailed clumsily for a second before it landed on Jake’s arm. "Tell him... I miss him."

Jake froze, his jaw tightening as he looked down at Buck. Then he covered Buck’s hand with his own, his thumb brushing against his knuckles for a brief moment. "I’ll tell him," he said softly, even though Buck was already slipping into sleep.

Jake placed a water bottle and some pills on the bedside table, his movements quiet and deliberate. He lingered there for a beat, his gaze heavy with something unspoken.

Leaning down, Jake brushed his fingers lightly through Buck’s curls, his voice low and warm as he whispered, "I don’t even look like a Jake, Evan."

Buck stirred slightly, a faint furrow in his brow, but his eyes stayed closed. Jake Tommy pulled back, hesitating for just a moment before slipping out, leaving the loft in silence.

Part2

#what is this #who knows #bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #*

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stop4death · 8 months ago

Text

confessions

note: i'm not a good writer i apologize in advance. but i have challengers brain rot and can't stop thinking about it so i had to write this. thinking about writing fem!reader x tashi next (reader is lowkey in love with tashi as well in this one in my mind) lmk if u like this and maybe i will

pairing: stanford!art donaldson x fem!stanford!reader

summary: since you started at stanford, you’ve been avoiding your close high school friend, art, and you’re pretty sure he’s been avoiding you, too. when he shows up to the tennis courts while you’re playing with your roommate and asks to talk, some confessions are made.

warnings: nsfw 18+ (MDNI!), smut, sub!art donaldson, soft dom!reader, angst, fluff, grinding, hand job, praise, aftercare (reader loves art sm), art is pathetic (in a good way i love him), please lmk if i forgot anything

word count: 1.9k

posted: may 27th 2024

It’s been a little over a month since you started at Stanford. With the stress of all your classes, homework, club meetings, and private out-of-season training for tennis, it feels like you can never catch a break. To make things even worse, you’ve been actively avoiding your close high school friend, Art. You promised each other you’d stick together at school while your best friend, Tashi, and her boyfriend, Art’s best friend, Patrick, are touring. Now, you haven’t heard from him, and haven’t tried to reach out to him either. When your roommate found out you’re a tennis player, she asked if you’d be willing to teach her how to play. You happily agreed, so you’ve been going down to the courts and playing with her once a week. Today, your heart jumped out of your chest and you almost dropped your racket when you were teaching your roommate how to backhand and Art walked in, sitting down in the stands.

“You okay?” your roommate asks, concerned by your sudden change in demeanor. She looks back to where you were looking and sees Art, then turns back to you confused.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine” you say unconvincingly, and serve the ball. She doesn’t press any further, so you continue with the lesson, trying to ignore the knot in your stomach.

You can’t help but keep glancing up at Art. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since he got there. Once you finish up her lesson, you say goodbye to your roommate and nervously walk up to the stands where Art is sitting.

“Hi.” you say softly, scratching at your palm anxiously.

“Hi. How have you been?” he asks, seemingly genuine.

“Um… I-I’ve been good. How about you?” you stutter, your heart racing.

“Can we talk?”

“Yeah, sure.” you sit down next to him, but he shakes his head.

“Privately?” he looks around at the few people who are on the tennis courts, including your roommate who’s still slowly packing up her bag and glancing up at you confoundedly.

The knot in your stomach twists even tighter, but you nod your head in agreement, standing up. You follow him out of the tennis courts and towards one of the dorm buildings. He unlocks a door on the first floor, gesturing for you to enter. As you walk into your friend’s dorm room for the first time, you look around. Your lips curve up slightly and you feel a warmth in your chest when you notice a photo of yourself with Art on a wall of photos of his friends and family. Your apprehensive look returns when you turn back towards the door as he shuts it behind him, standing awkwardly in the middle of his room. You’ve never been a fan of confrontation, but you should have prepared for it when you decided to completely ghost one of your best friends with no explanation.

“You can sit down, you know.” he says casually.

You glance between his desk and his bed, ultimately opting for the desk chair. You face the chair out away from the desk and sit down. He sits down on his bed, facing you.

“Nice room.” you say awkwardly, desperate to break the uncomfortable silence.

“Why did you stop talking to me?” he says plainly. You suddenly feel like you might vomit at any second. You would rather be six feet underground than in Art’s dorm room having this conversation right now.

“I didn’t mean to, I’ve just… been so busy with classes and clubs and training I guess I haven’t gotten the chance to text you.” you lie. And he sees right through it.

“Can you be serious… Why haven’t you talked to me since we got here?”

You take a deep breath, and look down at your hands. Trying to think of any other way you can stretch the truth and not have to tell him what you’re about to tell him, but your mind has gone blank. You look back up at him, realizing you have no choice but to be honest.

“Art I-” you try to find the words, your heart racing even faster. “I, um… back in high school, I had this… huge crush on you." Your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you stutter through the confession you've held onto for years, and you continue awkwardly, “And I knew you had a thing for Tashi, and it hurt because obviously who could ever compete with Tashi. She’s literally perfect. So over the summer, like a week before school started, Tashi and I were drunk and I decided to block your number. I thought maybe it would help me move on, start fresh, you know? I didn't want to keep being just friends and feeling, I don't know, awkward around you." You shift uncomfortably, the weight of your words heavy on your shoulders. "Honestly, I forgot I even did it until now. I thought maybe you were avoiding me, too, or… I don't know, I guess I just didn't think it through. I'm sorry, Art. If you don't hate me now, could we maybe try being friends again? I've moved past that crush, I promise. I won’t let it get in the way again.”

You try to make the last part sound as convincing as possible. You don’t think you’ll ever be over your crush on Art. He just sits there and listens as you talk. His expression is unreadable, and for a moment, you fear you've said too much. You look down again, fearing his response.

“Why didn’t you tell me before… that you had a crush on me?”

“Cause you liked Tashi. Like everyone else.”

“Tashi was always just a friend to me. I liked you.”

You look at him as if he must be lying, searching for any hint of irony in his tone or facial expression.

“I still do.” he says softly, and the knot in your stomach is replaced with butterflies.

You stand up from the chair, and Art looks at you with concern, thinking you’re about to walk out. You take a few steps forward and sit down next to him on his bed, your knees brushing together.

“I still like you, too.” you whisper and put a hand on his cheek. You slowly lean closer to him, and press your lips against his. His lips are soft and they taste of cigarettes and watermelon lime ChapStick, his favorite. You’ve dreamed about this taste for years. He places a hand on your thigh, deepening the kiss. You quickly move to straddle his lap. Your hands twist in his soft strawberry blond hair as you kiss him sloppily, as if you were trying to consume him. You feel his erection growing under you and grind your hips down against him, making him moan softly into the kiss. You tug at the hem of his shirt and he quickly removes it, tossing it carelessly across the room, then smashes his lips back against yours hungrily. His hand moves up your thigh to the waistband of your skirt.

“So impatient.” you say with a smirk, moving your head down to kiss his neck and taking his hand in yours, moving it away from your waistband. He whimpers at the feeling of you sucking and nibbling gently on his neck. You kiss up his neck and jawline then back to his lips quickly before pulling away. You move off his lap and sit further back on his bed, spreading your legs slightly and patting the space between them.

“Come sit here.”

He looks at you a bit confused, but he obeys. He sits between your legs on the bed, his back to you. You move your hands slowly over his arms and chest, kissing his neck from behind, bringing back the sweet sounds of his whimpering. He closes his eyes and leans his head back on your shoulder, giving you better access to his neck. He moans softly, reveling in the feeling of your lips and hands on him. You tease him, moving your hand slowly down his abdomen and stopping just before his waistband, then moving back up slowly. You do this a few times before he can’t take it anymore and his hips buck upwards, begging for your touch.

“Such a pretty boy… you want me to touch you?” you tease, speaking softly against his neck and driving him insane. He whimpers, nodding his head eagerly.

“Use your words.” you whisper in his ear. His hips buck up again, a needy whine escaping his lips.

“Please,” he gasps out, his voice soft and needy, “please touch me, I want you so bad.”

You smirk and move your hands to the waistband of his pants, tugging down gently. He wastes no time pulling his pants and boxers off in one quick movement.

“Good boy.” you say softly, sliding your hand down his abdomen. A strangled moan leaves his lips as you wrap your hand around his cock and start to stroke him. His hips jerk up, desperate for more friction.

“Fuck” he gasps out, his voice a husky whisper. You continue to stroke him slowly, your other hand wandering over his chest and abs, kissing his neck occasionally.

“Love hearing your moans… such a good boy for me.” you say softly in his ear. He can’t contain his whimpers as you continue.

“Feels… so good.” he chokes out through moans, leaning his head back on your shoulder again. He lets out a low moan as you kiss his neck again, panting heavily.

“Such a good boy.” you emphasize, playing with his hair with your other hand.

“Yes, I am… such a good boy for you.”

You can tell that he’s close to the edge.

“You gonna cum for me, baby?”

“Yes… yes.” he gasps, his eyes squeezed shut as he breathes heavily. You stroke faster now, and he lets out a loud moan as he finally lets go, cumming hard on your hand. He pants heavily as he leans back against you, trying to catch his breath. “Thank you.”

You move your hand up to your mouth, licking some of his cum off and swallowing it, then moving your hand to his mouth. He knows exactly what you’re asking of him. His breath hitches at the sight, and he leans forward to lick the rest of his cum off your hand. He swallows then closes his eyes and leans his head back against your shoulder.

“You did so good for me, angel. My good boy.” you wrap your arms around him, holding him close and rubbing his stomach as he recovers. He lets out a contented sigh as he leans back into you further, his body still trembling slightly. He puts his arms over yours, holding onto you tightly as he catches his breath. You let him lean on you for a few more minutes, still rubbing his stomach, before the two of you lay down, you still holding him from behind. He turns over to face you, his lips curling into a smile. You smile back at him and put a hand on his cheek, stroking it gently.

“I missed you so much. Please, don’t ever leave me again.”

His words are like a shot to the heart. You still feel like a horrible person for the way you hurt him, but one thing about Art is he could never hate you, no matter what you do. You pull him close, stroking his hair gently as you whisper, “I won’t. Ever. I promise.”

#challengers #art donaldson #mike faist #brain rot #smut #art donaldson x reader #sub!art donaldson #art donaldson smut #art donaldson fanfic

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norikuna · 29 days ago

Text

ACCIDENTALLY YOURS! — jujutsu kaisen

prologue. → some not so meet-cutes 😁 who said love was easy?

pairings. jjk x gn!reader choso, toji, geto, nanami, sukuna, gojo.

warnings+. no curse/jujutsu au, slightly suggestive for toji's. attempted vehicular injuries but gojo's fine w/ it as long as he gets your number. some alcohol mentions. someone has a nosebleed.

word count. 6k! song inspiration. let me in (20 cube) — enhypen

a/n. this is saur silly, and i wrote this super quickly so it's not proofread.

CHOSO KAMO ✶ just trust me bro ... ?!

there's a man in your apartment.

at first, your brain short-circuits with options. scream, call the police, throw your used dinner dishes. why not all three in rapid succession?

it's nine at night, and all you wanted was to collapse into bed with a cozy throw and a criminal minds marathon. instead, fate or your carelessness in leaving the door unlocked, has gifted you with this stranger who just walked in.

this man didn't sneak in, mind you. no, this stranger barrelled through the door, let out a soft groan as he ran into your dining table. he then muttered a soft and polite 'excuse me' before plopping himself down onto your couch like he'd paid three months of rent.

and now? he's sitting there, hunched forward with his elbows on his knees and his head bowed. like he's contemplating the futility of existence, or whether he left the stove on at home. you can't quite see his face yet, just the curtain of messy chestnut hair falling over it.

what you can see is that he's wearing an oversized violet sweatshirt that's swallowing him whole, and right over dark cargo pants and scuffed combat boots.

well, now what?

your heart is hammering as you edge closer, gripping a fork behind your back like it's king arthur's sword. he's muttering something, no. a name?

you lean slightly, straining to hear.

"...yuuji, when i c-catch you."

but finally, the stranger looks up at you, as if he's searching your face for this 'yuuji.'

big hazel eyes stare up at you, bleary and glassy, and his lips are pouting, pale pink and peeled raw from where teeth have gnawed into them. his cheeks are slightly flushed, and he smells faintly of cheap alcohol.

great, the strange man in your living room is also drunk. you wonder where your phone is.

"uh, hey. are you one of yuuji's friends?" and the stranger's voice is absurdly deep, but incredibly shy, "can you get him? is he in his room?"

your brows furrow, "huh, who's yuuji? what room?"

the man blinks slowly, and he hiccups. a tiny, almost cute sound — and then he frowns, "yuuji? my little brother? lives here, obviously?" he gestures broad hands around vaguely, loosely.

"no. i live here."

his wide eyes scan the room. your glossy magazine on the table, a cup of hot chocolate next to your laptop which still glows with the not-so-legal streaming site. but you can see the very moment that the stranger's face freezes, like he's just been slapped in the face, "oh."

"yeah."

the stranger groans, dragging his hands down his flushed face and this only makes his clingy strands stick up in strange places, "oh no. oh, man. i — uh, think i'm in the wrong apartment."

"you think?"

"i was just tryna' find yuuji's place," he mutters, his words slurred but earnest, "we live, like, two floors down. but it's all the same, right? like...layout-wise?"

you open your mouth to argue, then close it. technically, he’s not wrong about the layout, but that’s hardly the point. "why didn’t you check the apartment number?"

"because i’m…" he pauses, thick brows knitting together like they’re searching for answers his brain won’t provide. finally, he lands on, "tipsy. yeah, tipsy. i actually really hate drinking, by the way. it was some stupid bet with my little brother."

you lift the fork a little higher, its tines gleaming under the dim overhead light. "so you broke into my apartment."

"hey, i didn’t break in!" he protests, his voice thick with indignation that doesn’t quite match the circumstances, "your door was open."

"unlocked," you grind out, ignoring the mildly adorable pout on his flushed lips,"not an invitation."

the man has the decency to look sheepish, one hand reaching up to scratch at his neck. "uh… yeah. my bad."

his bad? that’s the best he’s got? not a sorry for terrifying you! or a sorry for making you think you’re about to feature in a criminal minds special! but before you can really get going on the lecture building on your tongue, there’s a soft thud.

you glance down. your cat, the fluffy little traitor, is rubbing affectionately against the leg of this random man, purring like an old motorbike. meanwhile, the stranger just lights up, crouching down to scratch behind your cat’s ears with absurd gentleness.

"hey, buddy," he says softly, a crooked smile tugging at his mouth. and damn it, he’s got dimples.

"what’s wrong with you? traitor," you hiss at your cat, who just looks far too content in the man's arms.

the stranger looks back up at you with those wide, hazel eyes, his head tilting to the side. "i’m choso, by the way."

"i didn’t ask."

"you’re holding a weapon," choso observes, eyes flicking to your hand.

"it’s a fork," you snap. "and you’re in my apartment."

"touché," he mutters, slouching back into your couch like it’s his own. he looks too tired to argue before he starts rambling, words tumbling out in uneven waves, "look, i’ll leave, okay? sorry for...uhm, being here. it’s just been a rough day, y’know? my brother — he's my little brother, he dared me to drink, and i hate drinking. then the cab driver tried to scam me, and i kinda gave up on the bet and wanted to go home. i don’t even know how i ended up here."

he waves a hand around like the universe itself is to blame for the situation.

you should still be mad. and you are. sort of. but it’s hard to stay furious when the guy in your living room is practically drowning in a sweatshirt two sizes too big, cradling your cat like it’s a lifeline. there’s something weirdly endearing about him, even if your fight-or-flight response still has a foot on the gas.

"fine," you sigh. "but if you've left anything drunk and gross on my couch, you’re coming back tomorrow to clean it."

choso’s face brightens like you just granted him parole. "i didn’t, swear i didn't, but yeah. deal. you’re cool. what’s your name?"

you hesitate, fork still in hand. "why?"

"so i know who to thank when i hopefully sober up. i’m really sorry for scaring you."

"alright, choso." you point to the door. "out. and if i catch you here again uninvited, i’m calling the cops."

he staggers to his feet, towering but unsteady, still cradling your cat. "uh, can i…"

"no," you interrupt. "put mr pickles down."

he pouts but complies, setting the cat down like he’s handling precious cargo. as he shuffles to the door, he glances back, scratching the back of his head, "thanks for not stabbing me with the fork."

"yet, choso," you deadpan.

with that, he stumbles into the hallway, and you slam the door shut before finally locking it properly this time. it’s only then that you notice the little silver bracelet lying on the couch.

maybe when he's also sober, you’ll find him two floors down. not because you’re curious about him or anything. it’s just the responsible thing to do.

probably.

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✶ got a mean laugh, huh ?

you'd just wanted a burger. greasy, cheesy, unapologetically unhealthy — a perfect antidote to a day of endless meetings and passive-aggressive emails from your annoying boss.

what you didn’t want was to make an absolute spectacle of yourself in the middle of a restaurant.

but here you were, ever the universe's favourite clown and plaything.

it started innocently enough: you’d been sitting behind him in this faux-american diner, cheap enough that it didn't break your last paycheck.

minding your business and just sitting behind some two loud-talking men, one of them broad and terrifyingly large in a too-tight black gym shirt and the kind of wide-legged pants only men with way too much confidence could pull off.

then he started making strange noises.

at first, you tried to ignore it. who were you to interfere? but then it got louder — a gruff, guttural wheezing that sounded suspiciously like a man choking on his fries. your heroic instincts (and latent secondhand embarrassment) kicked in.

what can you say? you were a natural born avenger. you didn’t think. you acted.

scrambling out of your booth, you darted behind him, arms awkwardly looping around his absurdly muscular torso. it took more than one attempt — why was he built like a human brick wall?

but you managed to start the worst heimlich maneuver known to mankind, trying to remember your hazy first aid training from high school.

"hold still, man!" you grunted, struggling for leverage, and trying not to collapse backwards. "i got this!"

except he didn’t hold still. he started laughing. loud, throaty, barking laughs that only made the situation worse.

"stop squirming, you’re gonna end up choking even more —oh my god, are you fuckin' laughing?!"

"hey, i’m —" the stranger wheezed between gasps, not choking, just laughing so hard his voice cracked, "i’m not choking!"

you froze, mortified, arms still awkwardly wrapped around his incredibly chiselled torso. "you’re...not?"

"tch, nah." his voice was deep, almost lazy, as he twisted his head back to smirk at you, sharp green eyes gleaming with amusement. "but yer' real determined. if i was choking, i’d probably survive. maybe."

you stumbled back, cheeks flaming, trying to pretend the floor might swallow you whole. trying to pretend that someone didn't pull out their phone to record you.

the expensive-looking guy sitting across from him — a man in a sharp, well-pressed brown suit who clearly didn’t belong in a place with laminated menus and sticky booths, just sipped his coffee with an air of quiet disdain.

"i always said you got an ugly-ass laugh, toji," the man sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "could ya not traumatise strangers for five minutes?"

"hey, it’s not my fault i got jumped," toji said, shrugging lazily, and the motion made his shirt ride up just enough to reveal a scar slicing across his ridiculously defined abs. "not that i’m complaining. i got humped by someone gorgeous in public. call that a good day, hah."

your brain short-circuited, trying not to stare at the light dusting of hair over his abdomen, "i wasn’t - humping, oh my god, i thought you were choking! i was just trying to be be a good samaritan."

you backed away slowly, trying to act like the horrifyingly awkward scene behind you had not just happened. you didn’t even spare toji a glance, though the smugness radiating off his gorgeous, stupidly muscular frame was practically tangible.

you grabbed your milkshake, your only ally in this tragedy, and downed it with all the dignity of a medieval knight trying to poison themselves with wolfsbane. the cold, creamy sweetness slid down your throat, like you were trying to drown yourself in the sugary oblivion. which you were.

"well," you muttered bitterly, setting the empty glass down with a clink, "i'm gonna disappear from here forever. just gonna...vanish." you made the universal gesture of disappearing: both hands dramatically flailing as if you were casting an invisibility spell.

"wait, hey, give me your number!"

the voice, deep and annoyingly gravelly, floated over the booth like a warm breeze. you stopped dead in your tracks, eyes narrowing in disbelief. no way. no freaking way.

"you’re joking." you turned slowly to glance back at him, at this toji. the guy in the suit across from him — who had been watching this whole disaster unfold with the kind of expression you’d imagine someone gets when they’re asked to hold a million-dollar briefcase during a hostage situation, was now doing the mental equivalent of sinking into his booth like a man deeply embarrassed.

"swear 'm not," toji insisted, leaning back in his own seat, "what if i really do choke and i need ya to save me?"

SUGURU GETO ✶ love at first nosebleed !

you were exactly where you needed to be: right in the thick of the mosh pit at one of your favourite festivals of the year. one that you had scrounged together enough dollars for an overpriced ticket out, all perfect to spend a night out in the cool, desert night air.

the mosh pit was packed. like wall-to-wall bodies, as though you were wading through a sea of waving limbs.

without any warning, the crowd surged forward in a wave of bodies, just as the lead singer of this band threw a rose into the crowd and you squealed. throwing your arms up to steady yourself, and of course, you managed to send your elbow directly into the guy standing behind you.

at first, there's a sharp grunt of surprise, swiftly followed by a:

"hey, what the fuck!"

you turned around in a panic, your breath caught in your throat as you saw the aftermath of your unfortunate swing. oh, blood. it wasn’t just a little trickle, either. it was a full-on fountain.

the stranger's hands were pressed to his face, but you could already see the crimson streaks spilling through his fingers. and as much as your brain screamed oh my god, what have you done?, your first thought was also, holy shit, this guy is gorgeous.

tall. broad. jawline that could cut glass. his hair was jet-black, falling messily to his shoulders, and when he looked up at you, you saw it. his eyes, pretty.

they were a pale, unnatural shade of purple, sharp and disarming, the kind of thing you only saw in movies. or at least, you thought you only saw them in movies, because now you were staring into them, and the moral compass on your shoulder stomped some sense back into you.

"oh god, i’m so, so sorry," you stammer, your hands flying up in a panic. you just didn't know whether to offer him a napkin or your life savings, so you just stand there like a deer caught in headlights, doing the world’s most unhelpful impression of a living, breathing human being, "i didn’t mean to, i didn’t, oh, that's a lotta blood —"

he waves you off nonchalantly, and you immediately thought, what kind of person is so chill about being impaled in the face?

"don’t worry about it,” he said, voice smooth as butter, if a bit nasally, considering the massive nosebleed that makes you feel a bit faint. the kind of nonchalant tone that should not be coming from someone who had blood pouring from his nose like an open tap, "not your fault, really."

"i...i don’t know what to do," you mutter, your hands still flailing around awkwardly. you didn’t have a napkin, or a first aid kit, or any idea what you were doing. hell, you weren’t even sure if the guy was okay without medical attention.

"nah, seriously, chill," the man says with a chuckle, wiping his nose with the back of his hand like it was no big deal, "relax, i’m fine. it’s just blood. it happens."

just blood. just blood. you stare at him for a beat, trying to wrap your brain around the fact that he was genuinely not bothered. if you had a nosebleed like this, you’d be on the ground, crying for your mother and your entire bloodline, but here this guy was, an absolute unit of a man, all broad shoulders and muscular thighs — bleeding out in front of you, and acting like it was the most mundane thing in the world.

"are you sure?" you ask, your voice pitched too high from nerves. "i mean, i feel like — i don’t know, i feel like i should at least be doing something to... help? like, i can — oh! i can find you something!"

you start rifling through your bag in a panicked frenzy. who carries band-aids to a concert? not you. who carries tissues to a concert? definitely not you. all you could offer was a packet of gum, a half-melted candy bar, and some lip balm. great. you were the epitome of preparedness.

you frown, "fuck, i'm really so sorry, i was just kinda, -" and you wave your arms around in the air as a half-hearted impression, as he tentatively takes a step back. probably worried you're gonna bazooka his chin next, and leave him with a busted lip.

"hah, i get it," he says with a shrug, as if his nose was nothing more than a minor inconvenience, "practically an expected hazard of being in the mosh pit."

you looked at him, genuinely unsure whether he was joking or just that calm about it, "you’re really okay? i'd really rip part of my sleeve, i don't know, if that would help," but you tug the sheer fabric, "but this is kind of tough elastane. oh my god, what am i even saying?"

"eh, i’ve had worse." the stranger gives you a grin that only made the situation feel more surreal. he was smiling, smiling — despite the fact that he was actively leaking blood like he’d been in a fight with a giant squid.

damn, you kinda like your men when they look a bit unhinged.

“look, just —" he cuts you off, “i'm flattered someone this cute is flustered over me. kinda nice, hah."

your face goes scarlet. "i am not cute, i should be terrifying," you gasp, mortified. “i just broke your nose in a mosh pit, and i —"

and that’s when it clicked. your brain finally registered the fact that this guy wasn’t some random concert-goer. no, this was geto—the suguru geto, the lead guitarist of the band that was headlining the festival tonight. you’d been a fan for years, practically worshipping the man’s guitar solos and smooth stage presence. and now...now you had broken his nose.

god help you when stan twitter got their hands on you.

you stare at him, wide-eyed, and he must’ve noticed the shift in your expression because he raised a pierced brow, "oh, i see it now. you, uh, a fan?"

"uhm," you squeak, still too mortified to speak normally, and trying to lower your voice to sound chill and unbothered. but it's just not working. "of course i recognise you! you’re — geto!"

suguru geto bashfully grins, as if pleased with your sudden realisation, though the blood dripping from his nose didn’t exactly lend him the aura of mystery he was used to, "i gotta say, you’re the first person to recognise me looking like this." he pauses, glancing at his nose with a casual flick.

you let out an awkward, nervous laugh. hoping that the divine powers have some pity for you, and you actually don't mess this up further, "i’m so sorry again. i really didn’t mean to —"

"seriously,” geto said, cutting you off again, "you don’t need to keep apologising. i get it, you're real sweet." then, after a pause, he tilted his head, his purple eyes glinting. "but, hey, next time i’m on stage? i’ll make sure to look for you in the crowd. you won’t be able to miss me. i’ll be the guy with the broken nose."

and just like that, it hit you. he wasn’t just being cool about the situation. he was flirting with you. the man was literally bleeding from his face, and he was flirting with you.

you open your mouth to say something, anything — but before you could form the words, geto flashes a wink, that same mischievous grin never leaving his face, "just gonna have to go and get this looked at. manager's gonna lose his shit, but see you around, yeah?"

NANAMI KENTO ✶ is it too late to turn this plane around ?

the plane shuddered just slightly as it levelled out, and you gripped the armrest as if your life depended on it, trying to pretend that you weren't ready to hurl the contents of your empty stomach over economy class.

it didn’t help that your armrest companion, sharply dressed, annoyingly calm, and with a face that could have been carved from marble — seemed utterly unbothered by the subtle turbulence. he didn’t even glance up from his boring ass magazine.

you had been stealing glances at him since he sat down. the suit caught your attention first, impeccably tailored, so he was probably some finance guy. his tie, a speckled shade of banana yellow that somehow still looked elegant, was loosened just enough to suggest this wasn’t his first flight today, though not so much as to appear disheveled.

well, just your luck that you were seated next to someone who looked like they could be a stone-faced nordstrom model.

his face, though. well, damn! it was the face that made him hard to look away from. angular features, strong jawline, and a slight furrow in his brow that gave him a perpetually exasperated look. the kind of face that probably made people think twice before asking him for directions.

you, however, were not most people.

"so," you began, forcing your voice to sound light and casual, even though your heartbeat felt like it was trying to escape your chest. "do you think we’re supposed to hear that sound?"

he finally looked at you, glancing up from his magazine with the slow precision of someone who was already regretting their decision to acknowledge you.

"which sound?" he asks, his voice calm but carrying a hint of weariness. his blonde hair was neatly slicked back, though a single strand had rebelliously fallen onto his forehead.

"uhm, you know. that sound," you said, gesturing vaguely toward the overhead compartments as if that explained anything.

his gaze followed your hand, and his brow furrowed further, not in alarm but in what looked like mild irritation. “the plane engine or the luggage settling. perfectly normal." his tone is clipped, curt.

"are you sure? i watched a tiktok that said that there was a one in a thirteen million chance of being a plane crash. that's like...too much for me," you press, trying to ignore the mild rattle of the window.

he sighs softly, the kind of sigh that said he was already dreading the rest of the flight. "yes. i’m sure. i would not trust...short videos made by attention desparate people on the internet."

“okay, but what if it’s not normal? like, what if it’s—”

"it’s not the plane falling apart," he interrupted, his tone polite but firm. "i promise you."

you blink at him, momentarily silenced by the sheer certainty in his voice. "well, that’s reassuring, i think," you say finally, "thanks, uh…" you glanced at the seat tag clipped to his bag. "nanami kento. i mean, just nanami, right? don't wanna full name you..."

he inclines his head slightly, acknowledging the unspoken introduction, then returned to his magazine. it didn’t escape your notice that he turns the page with the kind of precision you’d expect from a surgeon.

you sit back in your seat, trying to focus on anything other than the fact that you were currently hurtling through the air in a metal tube. but the silence didn’t last long.

"so, what are you reading?" you asks, craning your neck slightly to get a better look at the magazine in his hands.

nanami hesitates, like he was debating whether to humour you or not. finally, he said, "an article on japan’s economic trends."

you blink. "oh. thrilling."

the corner of his stern mouth twitches, just barely, as if he was fighting back an amused smile, "i find it...informative."

"sure, but informative and thrilling are two very different things," you point out.

nanami turns another page, still exuding that same infuriating calm, "you seemed like you needed a distraction," he says, almost reluctantly. "would you prefer i explain it to you?"

you tilt your head, surprised by the offer. "you’d...explain the economy to me? as a distraction?"

"you were the one asking about plane sounds, and you look as though you're going to pass out. i'm not keen on doing first aid if it can be avoided," nanami says, with a tone so dry that it grates over you.

"fair point," you admit, "okay, hit me. tell me something i don’t know about japan’s economy."

he adjusts his glasses, his expression unreadable as he snaps his magazine straight in front of him, reading off the page, "the yen has been under significant pressure lately, largely due to increased government spending and concerns over inflation. it’s a precarious balance, on one hand, stimulus is necessary to sustain growth —"

nanami gives you a stern glare as you stifle back a yawn but continues, "but on the other, it weakens the currency against global competitors. the nikkei index reflects this uncertainty, fluctuating in response to external factors like american monetary policy and global market trends.”

you stared at him, trying to process the flood of information. frankly, you've never given a fuck about economics, and you had been more busy staring at his smooth lips, "so.. don’t buy yen?"

nanami's mouth twitches again, and this time you were certain it was kinder. "that’s one takeaway."

"wow," you said, leaning back in your seat, "you really know how to distract someone."

"was it helpful?" nanami asks, his tone suggesting he wasn’t entirely sure himself.

you considered that for a moment, "actually, yeah. i mean, i don’t understand half of what you just said, but it was so boring i forgot about the plane noises. uh, i hate planes. in case, you couldn't tell."

his eyes soften ever so slightly behind his glasses, "i could tell. glad to be of service."

you found yourself smiling despite your nerves. there was something unexpectedly charming about his awkward attempt to engage you, even if it involved the driest topic imaginable.

"you know," you say, "you don’t seem like the kind of guy who enjoys small talk."

"not in the slightest," nanami admits.

"so why are you humouring me?"

he glances at you, "didn't want you to throw up over my jacket."

the plane lurches, and you look at him with panicked eyes, "i wouldn't be so relaxed yet! oh, fuck, pass me that plastic bag, wouldya?"

RYOMEN SUKUNA ✶ retail's worst nightmare !

working retail was a game of holy patience, and holy fuck, you were losing.

it wasn't just the holiday rush or the fluorescent lights buzzing ominously as spotify worked through the most overplayed songs of the year.

it was him.

the man who was always camped out in your section of the store, for at least thirty minutes. for each of your shifts, rifling through stacks of neatly folded shirts like a bored bear rooting through a cooler. you watched, jaw grinding, as he unfurled yet another oversized graphic tee. flattening it against his broad frame, against the washed denim of his thick jeans. holding it up like he was considering buying it.

only to toss it back onto the table in a rumpled heap.

occasionally, he'd slide down his red headphones and you'd watch him flex wide arms, tattoos crawling out of the neckline of his shirt as he huffed.

you hated this innocuous customer. hated how ridiculously good-looking he was, in a way that screamed danger. what, with the mess of blush-pink hair and deep, russet eyes. hated how little he seemed to care about the destruction he was wreaking on your display, and most of all, you hated how he smiled whenever you sighed audibly.

making eye contact with you as he tossed yet another tee into the ruined pile.

"are you gonna keep unfolding those shirts?" you snap finally, "or are you actually planning to buy something?"

the man turns, slow and deliberate, and his gaze slides down to your name tag before sharp teeth unfurl from the corners of a rosy mouth, "relax," he drawls, "i'm just browsing."

browsing. right. you stare at the disaster zone that he's created, the meticulously folded rows of band-tees now reduced to a chaotic mound of cotton.

"this isn't a library," you shoot back, hands on your hips, "either decide or move on."

he arches a brow, clearly enjoying himself, "why so tense? isn't this your job?"

you let out a cool breath through your nose, clenching your teeth to fine dust, "yeah. my job isn't babysitting grown men who can't pick a shirt size."

the stranger blinks, pink lashes fluttering over sharp, dark eyes. as though he's genuinely considering this. then, with an absolutely maddening level of confidence, he grabs another shirt.

a hideous neon green monstrosity, with some kind of skull prints, and he shakes it out right in front of you. letting the creases fall out, dangling it like a flag of triumph.

"this one's nice, heh," he says.

"if you ruin one more folded pile, i'm gonna stuff that shirt down your big-ass neck."

his laugh is sudden and loud, echoing through the department. a couple of shoppers turn to look, but he seems to not care in the slightest, "ya can't say that to me. but you got guts, i'll give you that."

"and you’ve got about five seconds to put that shirt down before i make you refold this entire table," you shoot back.

he doesn't move. instead, he holds your gaze, clearly testing your patience. his wolf's smile was now edged with something sharper, something that dared you to follow through on your threat.

"you’re serious, aren'tcha?" he asks, almost impressed.

"deadly," you replied.

for a moment, you thought he might actually comply. but then, with the same deliberate slowness, he dropped the neon green shirt onto the pile he’d already decimated.

you stared at it. then at him. you think you're trying to pour gasoline on him, and blow him up in your mind.

"what's your name?" you ask flatly.

"sukuna."

"i hope a thousand evil little bugs descend on your house tonight, sukuna. i hope they invade your dreams so you know i'm wishing a curse upon you."

"that's kinda hot," he replies, without missing a beat and turning to leave.

"you can’t just walk away!" you called after him, but he was already halfway to the escalator, hands shoved in his pockets like he didn’t have a care in the world, and already pulling his crimson headphones back up.

you groaned, grabbing the nearest shirt to start refolding the mess he’d left behind.

then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw sukuna pause at the top of the escalator. he turned, just enough to make eye contact, and called out:

"when's your lunch break? let's go out!"

GOJO SATORU ✶ you charge my particles :D

the emergency department smelled like antiseptic and awful syringes. you were perched on the edge of a very uncomfortable chair, hands clenched in your shaking lap. staring at the guy you had, accidentally, thank you very much, run over in a parking lot.

his leg was propped up, wrapped up in plenty of gauze and a ice-pack, and he also looked oddly serene for someone with a pretty nasty, bruised up limb.

when you had first gotten there, you had been sick with guilt and worry that this poor stranger had been knocked unconscious by the rear of your car. but to your absolute bewilderment, he was actually just...sleeping? dozing off, sprawled back with a soft and peaceful smile on his face like he was just happy to catch a good snooze. the most absurd shade of ice-white hair mussed around his head.

that was, until his eyes fluttered open.

"oh my god, you're awake!" you blurted, leaning forward, with regret pouring out of you, "are you okay? does your leg hurt? what am i saying, of course it does! i am so sorry —"

he turns his head to you, blinking slowly. his eyes were a ridiculous, striking shade of blue. like glacier water caught in the sun. and then he grinned, voice still a little rough from his nap.

"hey, cutie."

you stare, utterly thrown, "excuse me?"

"what's up, gorgeous? don't worry, i forgive you for attempted vehicular manslaughter."

"good god," you muttered, "i hit his head too."

the stranger stretches his arms above his head, and you try not to track your stare to ridiculously, circus-long legs that sprawl over the crumpled sheets of the wheeled bed. way too tall, lean and far too good-looking for someone who had just been brought via ambulance to the hospital.

"it's fine, i swear," the man says, waving a scraped hand dismissively, "i needed a day off, so you did me a favour."

"a favour," you repeat, utterly incredulous, "you're in the emergency department. i backed up my car into you!"

the stranger shrugs, wincing at the stretch. and utterly unbothered by your fluttering worries, "yeah. but think 'bout it. if you hadn't hit me, i'd be stuck in a lecture hall. i don't wanna explain newtonian mechanics to a bunch of half-asleep undergrads."

you stare at him, suspiciously, "you're a professor?"

"mhm, physics."

"you don't look old enough to be a professor," and you're squinting at white lashes that ring impossibly large eyes. he looks more like a famous actor that you can't quite place, or someone's beautiful sugar baby.

no, focus.

he smirks, pale and glossy lips quirking upwards, "saying i look too good to be stuck in academia?"

"what? no," you say quickly, worried that he's gonna think you're a freak who hits on their victims, "that's not what i meant."

"you can say it," the man interrupted, still grinning, "i get it a lot. oh, satoru, you're too handsome to be explaining thermodynamics. satoru, you should be on the big screen, not teaching string theory. it's a bit of a curse."

you rub your temples, trying to block out the nonsense coming out of his fast-moving mouth, "you're kinda...weird. satoru."

"you hit me with a car," he points out cheerfully.

before you can retort, or ask him if he has private health insurance, a nurse clicks over, a clipboard in her hand as she's tapping her pen impatiently.

"mr gojo? we're ready to take you back for another x-ray? we just want to make sure that we also get a good picture at some soft tissues, so an mri as well."

your poor wallet.

"great," satoru says, and then to your utter horror, he adds, "i'll just leave my stuff with my partner, right?"

the nurse raises an eyebrow, glancing between the two of you. you feel your tongue go dry, "i'm not —" but satoru cuts you off, with a voice like silk.

"so shy, right?" and he's flashing the nurse a charming smile that makes your nose crinkle, "but i'm just so glad that they're here through this difficult situation."

the nurse looks mildly skeptical, and you can feel your face heat up as she sighs, and stares at you.

"i...yeah. gotta be there for my sugar pumpkin snookums, right?"

it's satisfying that the tips of satoru's ears turn an awful shade of pink as he glares at you now, "such a sweetheart," and he pats your hand.

the nurse seems more inclined to roll her eyes, clearly over what she assumes are the antics of a medicine-doped boyfriend, "right. let's get that leg checked out."

as she wheels him away, satoru winks at you over his shoulder, "don't go anywhere, pretty!"

what a fiend. grinning like he's having the time of his life.

700 notes · View notes

sierrale8ne · 4 months ago

Note

okk so baby daddy paige fic when??😛

paige bueckers x fem!reader

nsfw // dom!paige, sub!reader, strap-on sex, deep penetration, cervix play, stomach bulge, praise, daddy kink, breeding kink, nasty filthy dirty talk, pure smut!

She was demolishing you. The way her strap plunged in and out of you, hitting your g-spot repeatedly had you weak. Your legs pushed open and head tossed back onto the bed as she bended you as she saw fit. Paige had you on your side, widening your legs to get an even better look at your soaking cunt.

"Every fuckin’ inch.” She grunted. Her chest pressed unbelievably close to yours you almost couldn’t breathe. She meant it when she said every inch because your cunt was full to the hilt. All eight inches of girth stuffed into you and ramming against your g-spot so roughly it probably was bruised.

There was no reason for Paige’s sudden aggressions, besides how badly she wanted to be close to you right now. The earliest hours of the morning, made her want to be in your skin. Or so deep inside you rather.

“Feel me, ma? Deep as hell in that pussy." She cooed, thinking about all the other positions she could fold you into before morning came and she had to catch her flight. “Such a good girl. Taking my cock like the good girl you are.”

You cried in response, clawing at her hand that gripped the back of your knee, “uh huh!” You mindlessly babbled, eyes rolling until the whites of your eyes were all that she could see. “Uh! Fuck, daddy don’t stop. Don’t— don’t fuckin’ stop.”

She turned your body so you lay on your back, her hands still clawing at your legs which she pushed back until your knees nearly touched your ears. She was breaking you apart into nothing. The movement of her hips constant and in rhythm, you swore she was touching the depths of your chest each time she thrusted into you. Her cock unbelievably deep.

“She fuckin’ loves me, huh?” Paige teased, looking at how you swallowed up every inch so greedily. “Squeezing my dick so tight, you love this shit. Right, baby?”

“Aw yeah, P. Love it like that, fuck me like that.” You moaned, jaw dropping slack as you clawed for anything to keep you grounded.

Paige angled her hips ever so slightly, just enough to push her cock up against your cervix. Gently at first, but when she heard the mewl that escaped your mouth and the way your body convulsed it became rougher. You trembled as she kept thrusting into you, the vibrator nestled against her clit pushed up against your mound so heavy.

You reached for her hand to grab and place on your abdomen, the bulge that formed there. “S’deep, daddy. It’s in my fuckin’ stomach.” You whimpered, tears blurring your vision.

“Finna put a baby in you.” She muttered. Her voice was shaky, but even then her rhythm didn’t falter. Her eyes watched you like you were a piece of art, and you were; for her eyes only. “Fill you up with my cum so good, yeah? You gonna have my kids, ma?”

“Yes. I’ll have ‘em, P.” Your mind was trying to focus of the words leaving your mouth but the way she was fucking you so rough clouded your brain.

Sweat ran past Paige’s collarbone, dripping onto your skin. Her silver cross chain dangled in your face and the cool metal against your skin every few seconds offered brief relief to the heat you felt everywhere else. Paige’s hips were pushed up against your own, your juices smearing on her insanely muscular thighs. You were drenching her, a sinful painting of the clear and milky white fluid made her groan loudly.

“Gonna fill you up ‘til that shit is dripping outta you.” Her words were so filthy, and the sudden pressure she placed at your abdomen— right where her strap reached— was a recipe for a dirty disaster. “You want that? Wanna be my baby mama? Carry my kid?”

“I-fuck, fuck! Paige!” You squealed. “I want your kids. I want you.”

“Cum for me then. Lemme see that pretty fuckin’ cunt cum, baby. Can you do that for me?” She questioned you. Her hands moved back to your hips, slightly angling them upwards to kiss your cervix beautifully. “Gonna cream my cock, huh?”

And just like that you were. Your cum covering the strap and loud cries of the blonde’s name escaped your mouth. Your toes curled and your legs trembled as she fucked you through it, softly rubbing your hip with her thumb as the rough exertions came to a halt.

Only briefly, however. Because it only took her a few more seconds to put you on all fours, her obvious strength dominating you and positioning you exactly how she pleased. She treated you like a princess but right now? She treated you like a toy, man handling you and forcing your body into a picture perfect arch.

“Pretty girl can take it from the back, right? Make daddy proud?”

And you nodded, so desperate to feel her inside you again. She plowed into you for hours, leaving you weak and sore and fulfilled for an eternity. Or at least until she was back from her road trip.

author’s note my baby daddy paige 🙂‍↕️ @arlertwhore i hope i did you justice ml, BC THIS SHIT IS HOTTTT.

#sierrale8ne #kalena’s works ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅#paige bueckers #paige bueckers smut #wlw smut #lesbian #oneshots ✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡#rqs 🐆

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vroom--vrooming · 2 months ago

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Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!Reader

Max finds out that Charles is dating his sister

You and Charles have been in a secret relationship for a few months now. It’s been fun, sneaking around and sharing little moments that feel special just to the two of you. Today, Charles plans on surprising you with flowers and food from your favorite place. He’s headed to a flower shop in Monaco to get your favorite flowers, and he’s really excited about it.

As he picks out a beautiful bouquet, he suddenly hears a familiar voice. “Hey, Charles!” It’s Max Verstappen, your brother, not surprised at all since it's Monaco.

“Max! What are you doing here?” Charles asks, trying to act casual while holding the flowers behind his back.

“Just grabbing some coffee,” Max replies, eyeing the bouquet curiously. “Got a hot date or something?”

Charles laughs nervously. “You could say that.”

Max raises an eyebrow but shrugs it off. “Alright, man. Enjoy your date!” They exchange pleasantries, and Charles makes a quick exit, flowers in hand and now on his way to pick up your food, already imagining how happy you’ll be.

***

Later that day, Max decides to drop by your apartment. He walks in without even ringing the bell, and the first thing he notices is the vase of flowers sitting on the coffee table. His eyebrows shoot up. “Wait a minute…” he mutters to himself, remembering the same flowers he saw Charles holding.

Confused, he examines them closely, trying to figure out what’s going on. Just then, he hears some noise from the bathroom. Before he can call out to you, Charles steps out, wrapped only in a towel. He looks completely relaxed, totally unaware of Max’s presence.

Max’s jaw drops as his brain processes the scene. “Charles?!” he exclaims, pointing at him like he’s just seen a ghost. “What are you doing here?”

As soon as you heard your brother's voice you rushed to the living room.

Charles freezes, wide-eyed, and tries to pull the towel tighter around his waist. “Uh… I can explain?”

Max’s eyes dart between you and Charles, and he starts connecting the dots. “So you’re the one who’s been sneaking around with my sister?” Max had his suspicion that you are seeing someone but never figured out who.

You try not to smile at the situation but fail miserably. “Max, it’s not what it looks like!” you say, trying to act innocent while biting your lip.

Max crosses his arms, clearly protective. “Oh really? Because it looks like my sister is dating a Formula 1 driver in a towel!”

Charles stammers, “I promise it’s not weird. We were just—”

“Just what? Practicing your towel dance?” Max interrupts, raising an eyebrow.

Before Charles can answer, he accidentally takes a step back and—whoosh—the towel slips right off!

“Ah!” Max yells, covering his eyes. “I didn’t sign up for this!”

You burst into laughter while Charles quickly grabs the towel, trying to cover himself as best as he can. “This is not how I wanted you to find out!” he exclaims, looking mortified.

Max lowers his hands and shakes his head. “Well, I guess you really are dating my sister, huh?”

Charles, still red-faced, nods sheepishly. “Uh, yeah. I really care about her.”

Max sighs dramatically, pretending to be serious. “Alright, just remember—I have a reputation to uphold as the protective older brother. So if you ever break her heart, I will hunt you down, towel or not.”

Charles laughs nervously, finally relaxing a bit. “Deal. But I promise, I’m not going anywhere.”

With that, Max rolls his eyes, a small accepting smile breaking through. “Just put on some pants, man. Seriously.”

As you and Charles share a relieved glance, you can’t help but feel the weight being lifted off your shoulders. Now no more hiding your relationship from your brother.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #f1 #formula 1 #f1 imagines #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 imagines #formula 1 one shot #f1 driver x reader #formula one

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steddiehyperfixation · 2 months ago

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with blonde hair and a tan

steddie brainworms so bad i wrote this silly little thing immediately after watching the rocky horror picture show for the first time the other night lol @steddie-spooktober day 30: "where in the hell did you find that costume?" | 1083 words | T |

Eddie can hear Steve and Robin squabbling as he makes his way up the stairs to Steve's room.

“I just don't know about this, Rob.”

“It was your idea!”

“It's too much. I should wear something else.”

“Little late for that now.”

“Well-”

“Where in the hell did you find that costume?” Eddie stops in the doorway, frozen in a state of shock at the scene in front of him. His mouth hangs open, eyes wide, and a sudden heat rises in his cheeks.

Because Steve is standing in front of his mirror wearing only a tiny metallic gold speedo and matching gold boots, his great expanse of tanned skin and muscles and body hair on full display. Robin stands next to him with a spray can of wash out bleach-blonde hair dye at the ready.

Steve looks over at Eddie. “It's too much, isn't it? I knew it. I told you,” he says to Robin, gesturing at Eddie as if his reaction proves his point. “Look at his face, even he's embarrassed for me.”

Robin snorts. “Yeah, I don't think that's why he's blushing, Steve-o.”

“No one’s even gonna know who I am,” Steve continues to complain, thankfully ignoring Robin’s comment.

“Rocky,” Eddie says. His voice comes out weird and cracked; he clears his throat. “You're Rocky, from The Rocky Horror Picture Show.”

“See?” Now it's Robin’s turn to gesture towards Eddie in vindication. “Totally recognizable. Totally good. It's just one party, and you've got all that unwarranted jock confidence, you'll be fine.” She pats Steve on the shoulder, then turns and tosses the spray dye at Eddie. “Here. You can take over spraying his hair. I have to finish getting myself ready.”

Eddie fumbles trying to catch the spray can, his attempt to stammer out a protest falling on deaf ears as Robin pushes past him out of the room. “Okay.” He sighs. This is fine. He can totally handle being left alone with this literal golden adonis without getting heart palpitations. He can be cool and chill and normal. He can.

Steve looks amused. “You don't have to. I can probably manage spraying my own hair just fine,” he says when Eddie still hasn't moved.

“No, I got it.” Eddie shakes his head, shaking himself into motion. “You won't be able to get the back right on your own anyways.” He approaches Steve - with great restraint, he might add, because there's a part of his brain that's all animal right now and it's just raring to pounce on him. “So are you done trying to talk yourself out of this costume, then?”

Steve chews at his lip as he studies his reflection again. “I think so,” he decides. His gaze flicks up to meet Eddie's eyes in the mirror. “You really don't think it's too much?”

Eddie breaks the mirror eye contact before his face can turn any more red, fixing his focus singularly on starting to spray the blonde dye onto Steve's hair. “No, you uh, you look good. You really should've warned me- told me, I mean, what you were gonna be. I would've matched your theme, could've gone as Dr. Frank N Furter.” (His current costume in comparison is quite boring, just a basic vampire - albeit with some pretty impressive fake blood around his mouth if he does say so himself, but ultimately nothing special.)

“Now that would be something,” Steve mutters, the words a little breathier all of the sudden, but Eddie still doesn't dare let his glance wander from his hair. His voice is back to normal in a second anyway. “Well, there's always next year.”

“Yeah, next year,” Eddie echoes. That really would be something, both of them in flamboyantly skimpy costumes. He's not sure if that would make this situation better or worse for him.

He pushes up some of Steve's hair to make sure he's covered all the layers in the back, his fingers accidentally brushing along the skin of his neck, and Steve shivers. Eddie finds himself watching with an odd satisfaction as the goosebumps ripple up in the wake of his touch.

“I think I might freeze to death like this, though,” Steve comments with a self-deprecating chuckle that just barely conceals that weird breathiness that's returned to his voice. “I probably should've considered that before I decided to go out half naked at night in the middle of fall.”

“I bet you could easily find someone to keep you warm tonight,” Eddie tells him, forcing detachment. He locks his attention back on his hair dyeing work. “You walk in there looking like this and you'll have all the girls at the party falling at your feet. Probably even some of the guys too,” he adds, remembering Steve recently came out as bisexual.

“Yeah?” Steve sounds like he's smiling, or maybe smirking. He tries (unsuccessfully) to catch Eddie's eyes again as Eddie moves in front of him to get to the last few pieces of hair. “And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Would you be one of them?”

Eddie finishes with the hairspray, nothing left to keep using as an excuse to avoid his attention. He finally looks at Steve's face and raises an eyebrow, deflecting. “You want me to fall at your feet, Harrington?”

Steve shakes his head almost imperceptibly. He glances down for a moment, then looks back up at him from under his lashes and takes a step closer. “I want you to keep me warm,” he clarifies in a murmur as he reaches for Eddie's free hand and guides it to hold his waist. Eddie's blood ignites at the touch and the look Steve's giving him, flames racing along his veins.

That's as good an invitation as any, and Eddie's restraint shatters. He draws Steve hungrily to his lips. How could he not? The spray can falls from his grip in favor of using both hands to pull Steve closer and roam his body. And if Eddie's wandering hands linger for a while in their investigation of that perfect gold-clad ass, well that's between them and the lovely little sound Steve makes against his open mouth.

And Robin, who has the misfortune of poking her head back into the room right then.

She yelps and jumps out of view of the scene, banging her fist against the wall just next to the doorway to get their attention instead. “When you guys are done being gross,” she shouts, “there's a party we're gonna be late for!”

#this is so unserious #the homoerotic tension of helping your friend get ready while he's dressed as a sexy character from an aggressively queer movie #also side note rocky horror is a truly bonkers film actually and i don't think anyone really properly prepared me for that tbh lmao #anyways.#steddiespooktober #steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #ficlet #mine

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ticklishfiend · 20 days ago

Text

Distracted

Lee!Viktor x Ler!Jayce

Word Count : 4761

Summary : Jayce can’t stop thinking about what it’d be like to tickle Viktor. When they get tipsy together one night, he doesn’t have to imagine anymore.

a/n : i love them. sm. also, two things: 1) this is lowkey an out of character fic but i realized that it’s kinda hard to write a tkl fic with lee!viktor and it not be a lil ooc so bear with me LMAO, and 2) i said i was working on a lee!jayce fic, and i still am, but it’s a little longer and more thought out than this one so again. BEAR WITH ME! okok love yall hope u enjoy

this is a tickle fic! not nsfw, but don’t like don’t read 😝

…

It’d be so easy. Almost too easy. Viktor would kill him for it, probably yell at him for 45 minutes for breaking his concentration with something so stupid and childish. But it would be worth it just to hear the cute sound Viktor would make when Jayce finally dug his fingers in sides, crawling up to his ribs and playing them like a piano, maybe even drill his thumbs into his hips just to hear him cry–

“What about this one?”

Viktor’s voice broke through his concentration, and Jayce nearly jumped. The slim man looked over his shoulder at Jayce, bringing his arm down from the top of the black board. Viktor has been writing near the top of it for a few minutes now, working on an equation as he mumbled under his breath. His arm had been outstretched over his head so he could reach, and with his whole side exposed like that, his ribs and underarms were on beautiful display for Jayce to stare and daydream.

It was nothing short of a miracle that Jayce had only been thinking those thoughts instead of acting on them, with the way his fingers itched and curled into the leg of his pants just looking at Viktor like that.

Shit, he should probably focus now. Jayce did a quick once over of the equation, making sure he’d have something of substance to say in response. “Uh, yeah it–it looks fine.” Ah yes, a very substantial addition, Jayce Talis. ‘Idiot.’

Viktor quirked a brow. “Just…fine?”

“Yeah I mean it’s…” Jayce cleared his throat, looking over it once again and finally taking in what Viktor was actually doing. “I don’t see anything wrong with it. And once we get it fitted into our earlier calculations, it should be ready to rock-and-roll.” Jayce cringed internally, ‘Oh my god shut up.’

Viktor still looked suspicious, as Jayce rarely seemed caught off guard like that. He turned back to the blackboard, “Well I think it could still use some touch-ups. You should come and help me, my brain is frying from staring at it for too long.”

Jayce swallowed. Dammit. He’d been perfectly content to watch from behind, it was easier to hide his self-made fluster at that angle. But…right fucking next to him? Where it’d be even easier to reach out, pinch a bottom rib, make Viktor squirm and laugh and—

“Jayce. Any day now would be preferable,” Viktor deadpanned, not even sparing a glance as he continued to look at his equation.

“Right, right,” Jayce hopped to Viktor’s side, really trying not to be any sort of distraction in his state. Now next to Viktor, watching through his peripheral, he saw Viktor once again reach up and make a few scribbles with chalk. Above his head. Exposed.

Jayce bit the inside of his cheek, snatching a piece of chalk himself just to have something to hold onto. Why was this hitting him so hard right now? Usually, moods like this were so much easier to suppress, easier to forget about when he finally got himself lost in their work. But right now, their work was more mundane, small touch-ups on calculations they’d been meaning to get to for ages. It had been a very dull day in terms of their work, but inside Jayce’s head, a boring work day meant more time to think about Viktor.

Whether Viktor was…sensitive. Ticklish. What kind of laugh he’d have. Would he giggle? Voice light and breathy, gently squirming and batting at Jayce’s hands while his face flushed at the feeling. Or would he cackle? His body shaking through the force of his laughter, having to clutch onto his own stomach like his reactions were being ripped from him. Maybe he’d beg Jayce to stop, maybe he’d be laughing so hard he’d be unable to even form words around his giggling, maybe he’d wail—

“Jayce, are you quite alright?” Viktor asked, his brow pinched in suspicion as he gave Jayce the one-over. “You’ve been…very distracted today. Not that I don’t appreciate the reprieve from your usual yapping, but your behavior does seem a bit unusual this evening.”

Viktor had taken to leaning against the board instead now, which was a lot easier on Jayce’s overwhelmed mind to take in.

“Sorry, sorry. Just got a lot on my mind, I guess,” Jayce gave his nothing-answer and turned back to the board to make a few marks, hoping Viktor would brush it off like he normally does. Or at least, like he used to do.

He’d been more inquisitive of Jayce lately, actually asking personal questions and even answering some of Jayce’s own. They’d gotten to know each other a lot better because of it, which was great, but it was also coming to bite Jayce in the ass right now since Viktor was able to notice that something was so off with him.

Viktor turned toward the lab’s window, his gaze on the moon shining bright through the glass. There was no telling when it had gotten dark outside, they both tended to very purposefully not look at the clock when they were at work.

Jayce heard him sigh. “It’s late,” Viktor droned, rubbing a tired hand down his face. “I wouldn’t mind taking a break if you’re also interested?”

Jayce’s brows raised in surprise, a little smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. “You’re asking me if we can take a break? Where’s my partner and what have you done with him?”

Viktor gave a small blink-and-you-miss-it grin, “He’s off drowning himself in a river. His brain turned to mush after staring at one equation for nearly 3 hours.” He grabbed his cane that had been leaning against the board, before pointing a finger at himself, “New Viktor, however, just remembered the alcohol he stored in the kitchen months ago for dull days like this. And he’s inviting you to share a drink.” Viktor poked Jayce in the chest, before turning toward the kitchen.

Jayce smiled brightly. “New Viktor’s got some good ideas.”

—

They ended up drinking just a bit more than either had expected to. They weren’t drunk, per se, but their combined buzz had them talking a lot more open than usual. Their conversations felt so easy tonight, and Jayce was starting to wonder why they didn’t drink together more often.

“And the next thing I knew, I had a kitten stuffed down my shirt and a crazy lady passed out on the floor behind me,” Viktor chuckled around the rim of his glass, taking a small sip before continuing, “Little moments like that make me glad I got out of the Undercity when I did.”

Jayce snickered openly, clutching at his glass through the laughter. “I don’t know Vik, that sounds like a great time to me.”

“That’s just because you're a Piltie with minimal Undercity experience. Trust me, a kitten down my shirt was the least of my worries.”

Jayce’s laughter simmered, but his grin never left. He gestured with his glass, “So, what’d you do with it? The kitten.”

Viktor shrugged. “I carried it in my shirt all the way home. I didn’t feel comfortable leaving it with that woman, even at my young age,” He said, before giving a little chuckle at the new memory. “Actually, it was hell getting it back home. I didn’t take it out of the shirt because, before she collapsed, she said she had guys that’d be after me for it. I was naive to believe anyone would recognize the kitten on my walk, but I was young so I’ll give myself that grace.”

Viktor shook his head through a smile, taking another small sip. “But my god, if that thing didn’t tickle me the entire walk home. I must’ve looked insane. Some–hehe–some crippled kid with a lump in his chest, giggling to himself, ” Viktor couldn’t hold back his own snickers at the thought, but of course still scolded Jayce nonetheless. “Stop laughing, this was serious to me at the time.”

When that word, that one word he’d been thinking of all day, rolled out of Viktors mouth, Jayce felt his heart leap. His skin nearly prickled. And now he’s tipsy, and there was no way he could hold back on making sure they stayed on that topic for as long as he could hold it. “So what I’m hearing is, Boy Genius is too ticklish to handle a little kitten in his shirt.”

Viktor rolled his eyes. “I was a child. And I doubt you’d fare any better in that circumstance, even at your grown age.”

Jayce held his hands in surrender. “I never said I’d do any better. But it sounds like you think you aren’t ticklish anymore, which I think is total bullshit.” Jayce couldn’t hold back his smirk if he tried. “Actually, now that I think about it, you’ve just given me a way to get whatever I want in the lab. Maybe I should thank you?”

Viktor pointed at Jayce with the hand he held his glass, a small bit spilling onto the couch between them. “If you dare try something like that, I’ll go back and convince the counselors to have you arrested again.”

Jayce laughed, “Arrested for what? Tickling you?”

The corner of Viktor’s mouth twitched upward, “For a hate crime. You can’t just take advantage of a cripple like that and get away with it.” Viktor claimed teasingly, before growing suspicious of Jayce’s wandering glare. He was staring hard at the glass Viktor held between them, a little smirk on his face. “What? What are you looking at?”

Jayce clicked his tongue, “Hold on, can I just—” He interrupted himself reaching his hand towards the glass, and Viktor was so caught off guard by the action (and a little slower to thinking now, thanks to their couple of drinks) that he let Jayce take the glass from him without any protest.

Jayce took one long swig of the drink, sighing hard as he set it down on the table next to them.

Viktor’s brow furrowed hard. “What the hell was that?!”

“That was me getting your glass out of the way,” Jayce’s smile was wide and his eyes alight with mischief, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “So I could test out a little theory.”

Viktor’s mind was working slow, but not that slow.

“Oh nonono , Jayce—Jayce, whatever you are thinking, stop thinking it.”

“Why?” Jayce wiggled his fingers as he scooted closer to Viktor, who cornered himself against the arm of the couch. “Nervous you’ll get caught lying?”

“Absolutely not,” Viktor said, “But I cannot promise you won’t get hit.”

“Ohoh that is a price I am more than willing to pay,” Jayce chuckled, before darting a hand out to sneak a quick pinch to Viktor’s side. The reaction was immediate. His partner choked on a sound in the back of his throat as he arched away from the fingers.

“Jayce I swear on everything—”

“C’mon, I never get to see you laugh. If it hurts, I’ll stop?” Jayce offered, and Viktor would appreciate the kind thoughtfulness of that statement had he not been too busy trying to push Jayce’s hands away from his torso. Unfortunately, the nervous smile on Viktor’s face during the entire tussle really took away any bite he tried to muster in his words.

“If it hurts, I’ll k-kill you,” Viktor’s voice wavered on the word as Jayce pushed a hand through and pinched his rib, latching on tight but not yet actually tickling. He just…held it there.

Viktor gripped onto the wrist at his ribs, pushing and pulling and trying everything to avoid his own humiliating downfall. He was already struggling to keep anticipatory giggles at bay, and Jayce was beaming at the reaction.

“You ready?”

“No, nonono, Jayce—”

��Three.”

“I’ll throw all your patents into the river!”

“Twoooooo.”

“Consider all your hard work a gross, soggy mush!”

“One!”

“Jayce, no-! aUgchk—n-nohohoho!”

Jayce finally put his fingers to work, gently pinching at that bottom rib incessantly. Viktor did exactly what Jayce thought he would. He giggled hard, arching in a way that curled his body around Jayce’s hand, and slapped at his wrist like it’d do anything to push him off.

“Y-You—You idiohohot-!” Viktor’s words faded seamlessly into another bout of laughter as Jayce brought his other hand around to squeeze nicely at Viktor’s side. Viktor squirmed in his hold, and Jayce thought he was going to melt.

Viktor looked so cute like this. Flushed from alcohol and laughter, smiling wide and desperate, squirming in Jayce’s hold like his every touch was causing a new reaction. Just cute cute cute.

“Nohot cute you freheak!” Viktor said around his giggles, making Jayce flush himself. Did I say that out loud?

Well. Might as well double down, right? “Only thing to make this any cuter would be a kitten popping outta your shirt, huh?”

Viktor visibly blushed a tinge darker, “Okahay okahay! Stohop! I cahaha-ahahah!” He couldn’t even finish his sentences. Jayce was hooked.

But he was also merciful. At his command, Jayce declawed from Viktor’s ribcage and hovered above as he watched Viktor pant and come down from his giggle fit. When Viktor caught his eye (and that doting look he got when Viktor did just about anything these days), he shoved Jayce’s face away playfully with an all too smiley groan. “I hope you got what you needed from that study, because you are never gonna try that again.”

Jayce snickered, leaning back to his spot on the couch. “Oh yeah? Says who?”

“Says the guy who’ll stick a cane up your ass if you try it,” Viktor leaned against his own respective arm of the couch.

Jayce grinned back. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

—

Hooked couldn’t begin to describe the feeling. Jayce was enthralled. Enamoured. He couldn’t stop thinking about that night, brief as it may have been. He didn’t want to go overboard with Viktor, of course, the man was weird about touch as it is. Jayce was lucky he’d been able to get his hands on him at all. But that hardly mattered. Because Jayce got to hear what Viktor sounded like when he felt ticklish, and now that he knows that sound, it might as well be on a record scratch repeat in his brain at all times.

Jayce’s leg shook anxiously under the desk. He wasn’t nervous, more just…unfocused, at the moment. Yes, partly from all of that, but mainly from the chaos of notes and blueprints and paperwork littered in front of him. That boring night must’ve just been the calm before the storm, because once they were able to get all those equations pieced together, the workload became fucking endless.

And of course Jayce loves their work, all the passion and hours they both devote to creating what is essentially their whole future. It’s a beautiful thing what happens in their lab. Astonishing. Awe-inspiring.

…and also ridiculously stressful.

Jayce must’ve been working for nearly 24 hours at this point. His legs felt like lead, and his shoulders ached from the past few hours of leaning over this desk and working working working. He couldn’t count the amount of times he’s had to stretch his hand out from all the notes he’s written.

He’s fucking exhausted.

And what’s worse? Jayce knows that Viktor’s somehow been awake for even longer than him.

Jayce cleared his throat. “So uh…it’s gettin’ late, Vik. Wanna call it a night?”

Viktor was hunched over his own desk, goggles on as he meticulously worked over their project. Jayce knew if those goggles were off, he’d be able to see Viktor’s eyes trying their damndest not to slip shut from exhaustion. “Not now. This needs a few touch-ups.”

“And it can’t wait til tomorrow because…?”

“Because if I break my concentration, I may forget where I was in my progress by tomorrow,” Viktor said, before waving Jayce off. “Go, get some rest. You deserve it.”

“And you don’t?” Jayce could hear his voice get defensive, on Viktor’s behalf no less. The guy never gave himself a break, it was nothing short of a miracle that he’d been the one to suggest their break just two weeks ago. Jayce sighed, “I miss ‘New Viktor.’”

At that, Viktor paused. Lifting his goggles to his forehead and throwing Jayce an incredulous look. “Seriously, Jayce?”

Jayce pouted with a shrug, leaning against the back of his chair. “Yeah. New Viktor would’ve had a drink with me hours ago and then gone to bed at an appropriate time,” Jayce grinned. He gave an exaggerated, almost theatre-like sigh, “I guess this Viktor just isn’t as fun.”

Viktor pursed his lips at Jayce, clearly holding back a little smile at the banter. “I’m plenty of fun. This is fun,” he pointed to the contraption on his desk he’d been fiddling with.

But Jayce stayed with the bit, humming dreamily. “Ohh, New Viktor, how I miss him. He drank with me. We shared funny stories and laughed together,” Jayce smirked, getting a fun little idea. “Yeah, I remember him laughing a lot that night, actually. And it wasn’t just from the jokes he was telling.”

Viktor scoffed a half-laugh, shaking his head. “You sound sleep-deprived.”

“Noooo, my head’s pretty clear right now, actually. I remember it so clearly. Gah, New Viktor was such a riot,” Jayce sat his elbow against the desk and propped his head against his hand, giving Viktor the cheekiest grin. “He even let me tickle him. Can you believe that?”

“I did not let you do anything, don’t go twisting the narrative,” Viktor pointed at Jayce, his face losing the battle against the smile he’s been fighting. “You probably have 100 pounds on me, you practically assaulted a disabled man against his will.”

Jayce ignored him. “If I remember correctly–”

“You don’t remember a thing.”

“-he was very ticklish, even though he tried denying it at first. How silly is that? If you deny it, you know someone’s just gonna try it out and prove you wrong anyway,” Jayce said, before humming in fake contemplation, squinting and tilting his head. “Huh. Are you ticklish, Viktor?”

Viktor tapped his finger against the desk in a steady rhythm, now avoiding eye contact with Jayce. “You are ridiculous. We are grown, and I need to work.”

“Actually, you need to stop working and go to bed,” Jayce stood from his seat and walked to Viktor’s desk (who still refused to meet his gaze), leaning an arm against the top and towering over Viktor. From the new angle, he could see a little blush over Viktor’s face and ears, how he was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling anymore. Cute. “You gonna do that, or am I gonna have to answer my own question since you avoided it.”

Viktor glanced at Jayce with a side-eye. “You know the answer. And you’re being childish. If I wish to work, you cannot force me to stop.”

“Actually,” Jayce grinned, before hooking his fingers under Viktor’s arms (which were so conveniently sat atop the desk, leaving his underarms open and exposed) and digging in, getting an immediate reaction from Viktor who flung his back against the chair and choked down a laugh with the funniest sound. “I think I totally can.”

Viktor squirmed, his good leg digging its heel into the ground as his arms shook against their spot glued tight to his sides. His head was ducked down to hide his face, but he kept making these choked off little sounds like he was trying his hardest not to laugh (even though they both knew how ticklish he was, it was such a useless battle that Jayce’s heart burned in adoration).

“Viktorrrrr,” Jayce sung, his fingertips travelling just a tinge lower to Viktor’s upper ribs, and that’s what did the scientist in. Viktor let out a laugh that sounded like it surprised even himself, before tittering helplessly and falling into a giggle fit he couldn’t fight if he tried.

“Nohoho! Not again, Jahahayce–!” Viktor shook his head against his laughter, slapping at Jayce’s arm as deeper belly laughs started escaping him. Jayce could almost hear in Viktor’s laughter how he started to feel the helplessness take over, how he couldn’t get out of this if he tried. “Why?!”

“Because I care about you. You need sleep even more than I do, Vik, and you aren’t gonna do it unless I make you,” Jayce said, like he wasn’t tearing Viktor apart beneath him, like Viktor wasn’t coming undone under his fingers and squirming like a worm on a hook.

Viktor laughed harder at his words, “Cruel!”

Jayce couldn’t help but snicker himself. “Cruel? I’m helping you here. Just tell me you’re gonna go to bed and this is all over!”

Viktor shook his head, “Let me work! Evil fucking–ggahahaha shihit!” He lost his words as Jayce found his lower ribs right above his sides, Viktor’s hands grasping onto Jayce’s wrists like a lifeline.

“You are so stubborn,” Jayce chuckled. “I can go all night, y’know. You aren’t winning this.”

“Jdi do píči!” Viktor cursed in his native tongue around his giggles, and Jayce felt himself blush at the sound. Oh, Viktor’s gonna be the death of him.

“Gonna assume none of those words were ‘Yes, Jayce! Of course I’ll go get some well-deserved rest, thank you for helping me!’ Would I be right?”

Viktor didn’t respond, only laughing harder as Jayce slipped his fingers back up into his armpits. His head was thrown back now, and Jayce could see his Adam's apple bobbing through this laughter. His cheeks were flushed, eyes shut tight from the smile searing his face, and god the crinkles his eyes were making just made Jayce’s brain glitch. “C’mon, Vik. I know this is tiring you out.”

“You don’t know shit!” Viktor cackled, clearly confident he could withstand this. Well, at least before Jayce slipped one hand out and started tickling the side of Viktor’s neck and ear. Viktor seemed to stumble over his own laughter, his brain fuzzing around the new sensation as he slipped in and out of belly-laughter and high-pitched giggling. The side of his head slammed against his shoulder to block the sensation, but Jayce’s fingers were already at work, scribbling and scraping against those horribly sensitive spots that Viktor clearly couldn’t stand, if his incessant cursing in another language wasn’t enough to prove it.

“Oh? This a good spot?” Jayce teased, now bringing his other hand into the mix on Viktor’s other side. Viktor’s shoulders completely hunched up, his body so overwhelmed he didn’t know what to do with himself. He doubled over, clutching one arm over his aching belly while the other continued its useless slapping at Jayce’s arm. Jayce chuckled, “What? Does this tickle or something?”

“F-Fucker!” Viktor’s voice wavered, high-pitched and bubbly, before he finally resigned to his fate. “Okay! Okahahay! Bed–! I'll sleheheep!”

“Okaaay, I’ll trust you this time,” Jayce grinned. He stopped the wiggling of his fingers, but poised the tips of his indexes right at the curve of Viktor’s ear. It was a threat, and one that made Viktor titter and squirm and pull at Jayce’s wrists uselessly. “But next time I catch you without sleep for nearly two days like this, I’m not going easy on you.”

Finally, Jayce pulled his hands away, and Viktor slumped against the back of the chair with an exhausted sigh. “Have I ever told you how much I don’t like you.”

Jayce snickered, “Yeah. And I didn’t believe you then either.”

Viktor grinned, wiping a hand down his face. “I knew you’d do that eventually. I couldn’t expect you to find out something like that and not use it against me at some point,” He stood up on wobbly knees, and Jayce quickly handed him the cane that had fallen on the ground during Viktor’s squirming. “Just didn’t expect you to be so cruel about it.”

“Hey I wasn’t cruel–”

“Oh? You weren’t? Torturing a disabled man when he’s running off no sleep for over 48 hours isn’t what you’d call cruel?” Viktor teased, gathering things off his desk to bring home in his bag.

“Torture?” Jayce’s voice tilted up his grin. “You never even told me to stop.”

Viktor’s hands fumbled and he dropped a few pens. Jayce laughed as he bent down to retrieve them, their hands brushing as he gave them back. Viktor looked like a pouty cat, lips thin in a tight line with squinted eyes. Best of all, his ears were burning.

“It's a little hard to speak when you’re being forced to laugh.”

“But not hard enough you can’t slip in a few curses, right?”

Viktor had no rebuttal to that, merely scoffing like he had no clue what Jayce was talking about as he tossed his bag over his shoulder. “Goodnight, Jayce.”

Jayce watched as Viktor walked toward the door, completely satisfied with himself. He did it. And…it didn’t seem like Viktor even minded that much. In fact…hm. Maybe he’s reading too much into it. There’s no way Viktor liked it as much as Jayce. That’d be crazy.

“And um…” Viktor had the lab door pushed halfway open, stopping himself with his back turned to Jayce as he spoke. “Thank you.”

Jayce just could not help himself. “For tickling you?”

Viktor laughed at Jayce’s gall, “For making me get rest, you bastard,” He glanced over his shoulder to Jayce, who looked over the moon at Viktor’s honesty. “I know I need this, despite how I fight against it. So…though your methods are horrible, and undignified, and childish and stupid, and really show how odd your personality is—”

“Let’s get to thanks, yeah?”

Viktor smiled as he turned back around from Jayce. “...Thank you for looking out for me. I do appreciate the care.”

Jayce wanted to hug Viktor so tight their bodies melded together. Instead, he said, “Anytime. You know that.”

—

Viktor fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Jayce was right, as much as he hated to admit it. He’d lied when he said it was only two days without sleep. It was probably closer to four. Jayce just didn’t know that because the last time Viktor went home, he’d taken some of their projects and papers with him to work on in his own personal study.

So yes. His rest was needed, or whatever. And he did sleep really, really good. Almost 14 hours completely uninterrupted as he snoozed warm and cozy under the covers.

Only problem was…his mind ran a little rampant in his sleep that night. The events of the night before, with Jayce, and Jayce’s hands, and Jayce’s fingers, and Jayce teasing him so close to his ear he could feel his skin prickle with Jayce’s breath on his neck. All those thoughts that made his belly warm and fluttery were what he fell asleep to that night.

Which led to some…interesting dreams to think about when he woke up that morning.

“Does it tickle worse here? Orrrr here?”

“Jahahayce! No plehehease!”

“Answer the question, Vik. Your thighs or your hips?”

Jayce’s fingers were pressed deep into both spots, one hand tickling deep into his thigh first, before pausing so his other hand could wreak a similar havoc against Viktor’s hip. The feeling was overwhelming, and Viktor squirmed hard against the weight of Jayce pressed on top of him on the lab couch. Viktor was fully pinned under Jayce, unable to move and only allowed to squirm because Jayce thought it looked pretty when he did it.

“Hihips! Jayce, hips, plehehease!” Viktor wailed, and when Jayce paused, Viktor inhaled like he hadn’t had a good breath in years. His breath was labored, shaky, laced with leftover giggling from Jayce’s attack.

And Jayce just looked down at him like Viktor hung the moon that lit their lab through the window.

“I love your laugh.”

Viktor squirmed at the praise, shoving Jayce’s face. “Stop.”

“That’s the first time you told me to stop. What, am I embarrassing you?”

“Stop!” Viktor whined, shoving both hands over Jayce’s eyes so he couldn’t look at him in this flustered state.

But Jayce only chuckled, grabbing Viktor’s wrists and hoisting them up over his head to pin them against the arm of the couch.

“But you like it, don’t you?”

Viktor woke up with a jolt, his eyes wide and breath uneven.

Shit. Was he actually into this? What the fuck did Jayce do to him.

...

hope u enjoyed! pls consider reblogging if you did <3

#tickle fic #arcane tickle #arcane tickling #jayvik tickling #tickle community #tickling #my fic

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