#everyday i'm shuffling | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sooniebby · 7 months

Note

Alr bro I am BACK from the Malevolent Kitchen- So this whole thing takes place in the Heian era, when Sukuna was at his strongest and walking around as a four armed, tall monster of a man (he has two massive dicks I am not being told otherwise don't even play, lad)

Reader (do I even gotta say it? I'm real predictable let's be fr 💀) as Sukuna's favourite shrine keeper- as he's speaking to some sorcerers (prolly begging for mercy or smth), he calls the reader over and commands him to strip and warm his (massive) cocks, all the while the poor sorcerers are just fucking sitting there. Eventually, he gets tired of the reader just warming his cocks and commands him to start moving, scoffing when the reader is too slow for his liking- ultimately he just grabs the reader's hips with his lower pair of arms, using him like a fleshlight,,,,,,,

ALSO if and only if you are feeling up to it,,,,, skip to modern day when Sukuna gets incarnated again and is immediately like okay where the fuck is reader (he's been alive with Uraume, which is why he hasn't physically aged, either) so he can drag the reader into his innate domain and get his dick wet after centuries of no bf :((( kinks- degradation, sadism/masochism, size, double penetration, exhibitionism

ఌ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍

꧁ 𝙍𝙮𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣 𝙭 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

w.c. › 9.1k

Warnings › first time ever writing Sukuna. Reader is trans male and he has breasts. Use of breasts and chest is interchangeable. Pussy, cunt, and hole are also used. Sukuna is still very mean but I made him just a little bit nicer, cuz romance lmao. Mentions of suicide. Boku is the JPN male version of I. Reader slurs his speech a lot

Kinks › degradation, sadism/masochism, size, double penetration, exhibitionism, nipple play, creampie, breast/chest play

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

Wakizashi.

That’s what your dad called it. A Wakizashi. Shorter than a katana, larger than a dagger. The only weapon a civilian could handle in broad daylight without being seen as a threat. Many used it as a way to commit suicide.

He told you to use it for that reason.

It was the only good thing you could do.

The Fujiwara clan was powerful. No doubt about it. And while your father wasn’t the strongest, he was well respected. Many were excited when his wife was pregnant with you. Even when you came out as a girl, they weren’t too disappointed. Even a woman could be a strong sorcerer.

But you never did.

You had a curse technique.

But it was weak. It was fully based on defense.

The technique to manipulate shadows. But it was only your own. You could hide well but how does that help you in combat?

Didn’t help when you started spewing “nonsense” of not being a woman.

That earned you multiple whippings.

Everyone in the clan stopped paying attention to you after that moment. Your back covered in scars.

And the one large scar across your face.

Your Wakizashi flickered in the soft pale moonlight. The gold casing shining proudly. You took great care of it.

The harsh patters of feet caught your attention. You stood up from your makeshift mat, shuffling over to the small crack in your dilapidated cabin. It was practically a box. You glanced out, seeing multiple assassins hurriedly rushing out.

It looked to be the entirety of the Sun, Moon, and Stars Squad and then Five Empty Generals. Odd.

You shrugged it off, going back to lay down. You turned your attention back to your Wakizashi. It was the only thing you had in this box. You flicked your wrists, practicing your technique.

Even though you were weak, you still practiced everyday. With a sigh, you collapsed onto the bed. The rebellions you used to do as a child seemed so silly now. Cutting your hair, bathing with men, wearing male kimonos. Just to be locked away in the corner of your own home.

The door was unlocked but they made sure to make you fear even pushing it open.

Your mother took pity on you, being the one to deliver you food. You were sure that if she didn’t, you would’ve starved to death. But she seemed to be late today.

The soft sound of wind creaked against the old box. It shook slightly, always threatening to just collapse over you. Your eyes fluttered closed, clutching your Wakizashi close. It was only a few minutes later when the sounds of screaming caught your attention.

“He’s here!”

“Do not run away! We are the Toh!”

You sat up, staring at your door as the screams women, men, and even children reverberated through the cabin. Your grip tightened around the Wakizashi, bringing it up to your chest. Slowly, you crawled over to the door, pulling it inward to peek outside.

The sight… was horrific.

Blood. Blood everywhere. Weapons scattered. Arms detached. Heads rolling off bodies. Even a few bodies didn’t have the upper half. Many sliced into pieces.

You wanted to vomit. Who was doing this?

The Toh… was defeated.

You stepped outside the cabin, your bare feet touching the soft grass. The grass was colored red as you walked over to the piles of bodies. Your eyes scanning them, being able to name at least a fraction of the corpses. Underneath one, your mother’s eyes stared right at you.

Your breathing hitched, your hand clamping around your mouth. Despite the cruelty they gave you—it was difficult seeing them like this. The further you walked to the entrance of the Toh estate, the more gruesome each body became.

A few just being blood splattered against the floor.

“(Name).”

You shrieked, feeling a hand grasp your leg. It wasn’t someone you knew but her eyes were filled with fear. Blood trickled down her face.

“Run…. For your own sake.” She whispered.

Your eyes trailed over her body before you backed away.

The lower half of her body was gone.

Her arm fell down as her eyes closed.

You needed to run. If people as powerful as your clan were dropping like flies, you’d be killed immediately if this thing came to see you.

You began to run. Ignoring the bodies you had to jump or step over. You kept your eyes straight ahead. The Wakizashi tight in your grip. You hoped and prayed you would make it out free.

“Sukuna, is there any you want for dinner later?”

A horrid gasp left your body as you skid to a stop.

Your dad’s head hung from the grasp of a person. They were dressed in a kimono, short white hair. They held your father’s head up to a… thing behind them. The thing took your father’s head and examined it before tossing it aside.

“Not that one. Look for another.”

Its voice shook your body. The two of them were speaking as if they were looking at meat. Did they eat humans? But the white haired one looked like a human. You didn’t get the chance to think further when they suddenly turned over to you.

“Was something there?” The white haired one asked.

They saw nothing. The spot you once stood was empty, the only sight being corpses. They turned over to the thing, Sukuna.

“Go look for acceptable meat, Uraume.”

“Yes, Sukuna.”

Uraume began to move a few of the bodies about, looking for one that was acceptable for Sukuna. Sukuna hummed, cracking his neck as he looked around. His staggering form covered in blood. He stared in the direction of where you once stood.

You kept silent, staring right back at him. You had hastily summoned your curse technique, making yourself invisible to the naked eye. Your curse technique allowed you to hide in the shadows and even manipulate your own to hide yourself.

But it wasn’t strong, you could never hold it for longer than five minutes. And you haven’t eaten all day, you were weak. Hiding yourself physically didn’t hide any noises you made. So you clamped your lips shut, trying to not breathe, hoping he’d look away.

If you moved, he’d surely hear your footsteps, especially with how quiet it was. Your knuckles turned white as you clamped tightly at your Wakizashi.

Unable to hold it any longer, you let out a soft huff, pulling in as many air as possible.

But that was enough for Sukuna.

A large puff of air attacked you as you lost control of your technique, suddenly becoming visible. You collapsed to the ground, crying out in shock as you stared up at Sukuna.

He was large. Four arms and two faces. His eyes narrowed at you, glancing over you as he began to smirk. Blood covered his body. You knew your father and mother’s blood was mixed in there.

“How could I have missed you? You puny little thing.” He reached over to grab your hair but it went right through your body. Sukuna huffed, slightly confused on what just happened.

Your other ability, besides just becoming one with shadows, was the short ability to make your body unable to be touched. Sukuna pulled back clamping his fist before thrusting it into your chest.

It went through, but he didn’t kill you. Sukuna pulled his arm away, his head tilting. He didn’t look angry, on the contrary. He looked amused.

You quickly pulled the sheath off your Wakizashi and stood up on shaky legs. You had never fought. Never even used the Wakizashi against a real opponent besides a tree.

Sukuna chuckled. “Do your best.” He said, grinning. It was no encouragement. He didn’t even move into a fighting stance. Just from a look at you, he knew he was going to win.

“Domain Expansion: Moonlight Paradise.”

Dark matter spilled out from the ground as it formed into an orb around you and Sukuna. Your domain wasn’t strong. It wasn’t anything that helped you win fights.

It was a paradise.

A crescent moon shined, adding light to the otherwise dark domain. Spider lilies grew from the ground, surrounding you like a barrier of protection. A large sakura tree sprouted from the ground, growing tall as it quickly blossomed.

You shivered as you looked up at Sukuna. A feeling of bile filled your throat as you doubled over and coughed out blood. Sukuna looked at you with disgust, the hell was this?

“Is this your best?” He asked, stepping over to you. He was hoping for some sort of fight. But this was all you had to offer? A piss poor attempt at a domain.

You held out your Wakizashi, handing the hilt to Sukuna.

“If… die…” You winced, unsure of how to explain yourself. You weren’t taught to speak. Not after your whipping at age 9. And with everyone no longer speaking to you, you hadn’t spoken in years. Your voice was hoarse, struggling to work after years of being dormant.

You made the effort to write and read. But you stopped speaking. You hated your voice. This female voice that wasn’t yours.

Even now, just hearing your voice made you angry.

It’s a shame you were going to die with this voice.

“If…I…must die…You…willdo..bymy…Wakizashi.”

“Boku?” Sukuna muttered, staring at you. His eyes roamed your body. You weren’t a man. Not by the sight of your ample chest. You were wearing a female kimono. But your hair was cut short by a blade, judging by the jagged ends.

“Boku!” You screamed, glaring at him. You weren’t going to die being misgendered. You were going to die with the pride of being a male.

Sukuna grabbed the Wakizashi. It was small in his large hand. He lazily spun it around, making you slightly worried that he’d break it.

“You call yourself a man but you give up so easily?” He tossed the Wakizashi to your feet. “Pick it up. You have a technique, use it.”

You bent down, picking it up. “Nouse…strongerthan… me.” You could tell he had a bit of trouble understanding you, but you didn’t care. You just wanted your death to be over with.

“Why the domain?”

“diein…pretty…place..”

Sukuna glanced around. Your domain seemed to be just for aesthetic. There wasn’t any hint of anything else brewing inside. Nothing that was waiting to attack him. You really seemed set on dying without a fight.

You knew your place quite well.

He liked that.

“Domain Expansion: Malevolent Shrine.”

Your own peaceful domain was torn to shreds as red covered the sky. A large Buddhist shrine grew out of the ground behind Sukuna. Skulls decorated it. It looked to be human skulls. The ground beneath you became dark water.

But your spider lilies stayed alive. The crescent moon still shining down on you.

Sukuna sat down on his throne, his leg resting against the arm. He stared down at you, his eyes roaming you from his new position over you.

The Sakura tree died, disappearing like a puff of smoke. You collapsed to the floor and coughed heavily, the toll of opening your domain already affecting your body.

“Are you from the Toh?” He suddenly asked.

You mutely nodded.

“Look at me when I speak to you.”

You glanced up, trying to ignore the growing pit of fear in your belly. He smirked, leaning forward. One of his hands resting on his knee. The other holding up his chin.

“I find you interesting. I’ll allow you to live, as my shrine keeper. Once I’m bored, I’ll kill you.”

“inmy…domain..?”

“If that’s what you desire.”

Despite the voices in your head tell you to not accept, you nodded. You knew at most, this curse would only let you live for a day or two before he kills you. At the very least, you’d get to enjoy Earth’s beauty in the fullest.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“You’re filthy.”

A basin of water poured over your head as you shivered outside, fully nude. Your arms tightened around your chest as you were soaked twice before a rag began to rub against your body.

It was Uraume. They weren’t impressed that Sukuna had chosen to keep you alive. You were weak, what did Sukuna gain from keeping you?

But Uraume didn’t question it. They knew their limitations.

“When was the last time you bathed?”

You winced, being roughly manhandled to face Uraume as they kneeled down, scrubbing between your legs.

“River…bathein..River.”

Uraume hummed. Their hand trailed upward, unabashedly scrubbing your pussy before moving to your ass. “What’s your technique? Or were you not blessed with one?”

“Shadows.”

“How does it work?”

You bit your lip, unable to stop the slight giggle when Uraume moved up to your ribcage. They stopped for a second, believing they had hurt you until you gave a slight smile. They huffed and continued on, making sure no part of your body was left untouched.

With the moonlight shining down on you, you glanced down at Uraume’s shadow. You reached out and gently poked the shadow’s cheek. Uraume stopped, looking up at you with wide eyes.

You couldn’t help but grin. You grabbed the shadow’s hair, twirling a strand. A strand of Uraume’s hair began to twirl as if a finger was doing it. But there was nothing holding it up.

“You can manipulate shadows?”

“Mhn…justtouch.” You slurred. “Can’t…domuch…wasn’t…taught.”

You stepped away, shyly smiling as you slowly disappeared into your own shadow. Uraume hummed, nodding themselves as they watched you come back up.

“Can’t…hidefor…long. Noise…canbe…heard.”

“Do you have no offense attack?”

You shook your head. “Touch…couldbe…offensive…buti…can’t… can’t handle…weapons..too…weak.”

“I don’t believe that. Every curse can be offensive. You simply wasn’t trained properly.” Uraume walked over, grabbing the basin filled with water. They brought over your head and dumped it, ignoring your slight shriek at the cold water.

“It won’t matter now. Sukuna more than likely won’t let you live longer than a day. It’s a shame.” They draped a small towel over your body. “Use this to dry off. I’ll retrieve your clothing.”

As you dried off, you thought about what they said.

Was that true?

Could you use your technique for offense?

It made sense. You were never taught to try as you had quickly mastered hiding first. And then the whole problem of your stunts of being a male, it’s no wonder you stuck to defense.

It was the only way you could protect yourself from such hatred.

It didn’t matter now though. You were going to die in a day, anyway.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

It’s been months.

It’s been months and you were still alive.

It was shocking. After the first day, you were so sure you were going to die. But Sukuna didn’t even pay attention to you. He walked right past you. He hardly talks to you at all.

You stuck to cleaning his shrine, most of the time.

Even Uraume seemed surprised you even made it to a week. But soon, they started to treat you… decently? They showed you how to cook certain meals and if they were up to it, taught you ways to use your curse technique in an offensive manner.

“Speak slowly.” Uraume said, sitting across from you in the small room. You and Uraume lived in a small minka, just a few feet away from Sukuna’s shrine. He seemed to have two shrines, one in his domain and the other here.

You sighed, nodding your head. Uraume would sometimes hold speaking lessons. They had gotten tired of having to listen to your almost incoherent way of speech.

“I…wield…theknife—”

“—The. Knife.”

“The…Knife…”

“Continue.”

“The…Knife…to…cut…meat.”

“Good enough. Go bathe.”

You nod, grabbing your Wakizashi and walking outside. Since the minka was small, the shower area was just outside the home. Your robes pooled around your feet as you filled in the basin, yawning to yourself.

“You’re still here?”

A chill rushes up your spine as you look back, gasping in shock. It was Sukuna. He stood only a few feet away from you, his eyes trailing down your nude body. You blush, using your hands to cover your crotch and chest from his gaze.

“whatdo…you..mean..? Why…wouldi..leave?”

Sukuna smirked. “You have no sense of free will. You had multiple attempts to run away. Uraume can’t sense you when you use your technique. Yet you’re still here.” He walks over to you, kneeling down to your level. You gulp, wondering if this is the moment of your demise.

His hand reaches out, coming into close contact with your face.

Your eyes clamp shut, leaning away.

But he doesn’t hurt you.

You feel a hand squeeze your right breast. You open one eye and look down. Sukuna’s hand squeezes your breast as he hummed in satisfaction.

“It’s soft.” He said.

“Mngh?!” You shriek, unable to really move in fear he’d tear you in two.

Two of his hands grasp both of your legs, spreading them open as you cry out. You were practically manhandled, spread open for his eyes to see. Your hands flung to his chest, embarrassment filling your chest as you tried to calm down your heavy breathing.

“If you wish to keep living, become useful to me.”

“Useful…?”

“I already have a cook. I need pleasure in other ways.”

A feather like touch teased your cunt. You gasped, looking down to see his one free hand slightly teasing your cunt. You’ve never touched yourself down there. It felt odd. You didn’t understand how this could give him any sort of pleasure.

Sukuna seemed to notice your confusion as he chuckled lightly, manhandling you to rest on your back, legs still held up high.

“I will simply train you to handle me.” Two fingers sinked into your tight heat. You felt your body thrash against his hold, believing he was somehow killing you. It felt strange. So strange to have something inside you.

Was this apart of his technique?

Would you explode if he curled his finger?!

Sukuna chuckled, enjoying your fearful expression. “Relax. Pleasure will soon consume you.” The fingers began to slowly move in and out, rubbing against your wet walls. You gasped, toes slightly curled as something weird began to burrow in your belly.

His thumb rubbed against your clit, causing you to cry out. That seemed to be your weakness. For the next few minutes, he slowly teased your cunt open, occasionally rubbing your clit. Your body stopped thrashing but you couldn’t help but arch your back, biting your lip as screams threatened to live your throat.

“eeeeh…pee..pee..!” You cried out, tears welling in your eyes. Sukuna’s fingers didn’t stop, instead they continued. Even as you continued to cry that you were about to piss, Sukuna only laughed.

Your cunt clamped tightly around his fingers as you felt your body spasm. A moan left your throat as something washed over you. You felt…good?

What was this? Why did you feel so sleepy?

With what little strength you had left, you grabbed your Wakizashi and held it against his chest, glaring up at him. Sukuna released your legs and grabbed your hand, simply having to squeeze it to have you release the Wakizashi.

You felt too sluggish to actually put up a fight.

“You orgasm but still have the energy to use a weapon.” He laughed to himself. “You truly are interesting.”

He stood up and walked away, leaving you on the floor, legs spread open.

Just…. What the fuck was that?

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Orgasm.

It was an orgasm.

And Sukuna had been giving it to you constantly.

He appeared more frequently at the minka. He grabbed you whenever he pleased, even if Uraume was in the area. Spreading your thighs as he fingered your heat. He would sometimes squeeze your breasts, always commenting that it was his favorite body part of yours.

You were even forbidden from wearing underwear.

Easy access, apparently.

Uraume didn’t seem to comment or care about this new development. They simply helped you bathe whenever you were too tired. You still had your occasional lesson on speech and offense but you weren’t making much progress.

But somehow, the crazy murder, Uraume was encouraging. Believing it was just difficult for you to let go of old habits, especially in speech. You still couldn’t believe that they were a ruthless killer by how nicely they treated you.

It had been close to a year now.

You still thought about your clan. The massacre that happened right in front of you. But you couldn’t mourn them. Not after how they treated you. Such cruelty.

Sukuna and Uraume treated you like a male.

How could monsters treat you so well but not your own family?

There were days Uraume and Sukuna were gone. Those days you knew they were killing some other clan. Killing any sorcerers that dared stumble onto their path. But you never ran away.

Despite the amount of times you could.

You just never did.

Your fingers traced against Sukuna’s shrine, making sure there was no dust collecting on it. This was one of the rare occasions you were in his domain. But there were other sorcerers here—they were on their knees, pleading for their life.

You didn’t look at them at all, not wanting to be reminded of their humanity. To be reminded that Sukuna was a ruthless killer. That you were lucky you could stand near him and not fear death.

“(Name).”

You glanced up, looking over to see Sukuna motion for you to come over. Your bare feet pattered against the dark water as you went over to him, standing up straight as you waited for whatever he could want.

“Sit.”

When you moved to kneel, Sukuna grabbed your arm and pulled you onto his lap. You cried out, feeling your body freeze at the sudden closeness. You’ve never been so close to him. Being able to feel his breathing. The slow swell of his chest.

He began speaking to the sorcerers again but you didn’t pay attention. Hypnotized by this new position. Your hand slowly rested against his chest, your head leaning on his shoulder. You looked so small against him.

You couldn’t help but sniff the air, wondering if he had a scent.

He didn’t.

You stayed on his lap for a moment, wondering if he had just wanted you to cuddle him but you felt something twitching against your crotch. It was thick. Being strained by his robes. You wondered if it was just his knee but it kept twitching.

It was strange. It pressed against your cunt, earning a whimper from you. You had gotten so sensitive down there, easily orgasming when Sukuna touched you.

There was a tug at your robes as it was pulled down, causing you to gasp. Your breasts plopped out but you quickly covered them. It was luck that you had your back facing the sorcerers. Though they seemed to have stopped talking—only their soft whimpering and cries heard.

Sukuna didn’t say a word as he pulled open his own robe, two cocks springing free. You stared at it in shock. You’d never seen anything like it. It’d been years since you saw male genitalia. Did all males have two? That seemed a bit much.

You were glad you didn’t have any. It looked to be a pain to have to walk with something so huge between your legs. They pressed against your pussy—teasing your entrance. You backed away a little, only to have Sukuna grip your waist with his two lower hands.

“I trained you for this.” He simply said before turning his attention back to the pitiful sorcerers.

Training?

That training was for this?

Is that even safe?

You felt nervous. That… thing was supposed to go inside you? It wouldn’t kill you? You slowly sat up, hesitantly hovering over his cocks. The thought of putting two in so quickly, you didn’t think you could handle it. So you settled for one at a time.

The bottom cock slowly nestled inside your cunt as you eased it inside. It wasn’t painful but you didn’t like the feeling. It was odd, different than Sukuna’s fingers. His hands squeezed your waist once you finally bottomed out.

You glanced up, seeing his eyebrow raised. It was easy to tell that he was amused you could only fit one. You pouted, burying your face in his chest. He couldn’t blame you. You didn’t even know cocks could go inside a person! How could you fit two in the first try.

His second cock rested against your tummy. It looked a bit dejected. You kinda felt bad.

Sukuna and the sorcerers continued their conversation. You couldn’t pay it much attention. Your pussy clenching tightly around his cock. Your fingers clutched at his robe as you took deep breaths, beginning to feel weird with the thick cock spreading you full.

The sound of someone screaming caught your attention, but when you made the effort to turn around, Sukuna kept you still. He pushed you to rest against his chest, face smushed against his shoulder.

Someone was killed.

It was silent for a few more minutes before the remaining sorcerers began to speak about festivals they would hold in Sukuna’s honor. Sukuna’s cock twitched inside you. Huh, he must find that arousing.

Your eyes fluttered, sleep almost taking you over until Sukuna’s hands tightened around your waist. You felt your body be lift up until he slammed you back down. Your back arched as you screamed out.

The pain of the sudden movement somehow made you feel good. He bounced you on his cock as if you were nothing but a plaything. His grunts filling the domain. You were so happy he couldn’t see the sorcerers eyes on you, watching as you were used by the King of Curses for his own personal pleasure.

The thought of anyone in your clan knowing too brought fear inside your heart.

Any sort of pleasure you were feeling left. Your eyes fluttered closed as you just allowed Sukuna to take whatever he pleased. The reality of your situation had hit. You were nothing.

A toy for Sukuna.

Pitiful.

You were fucking pitiful.

Something warm erupted inside your heat, coating your walls. You let out a shuddered gasp, unable to ignore the small amount of pleasure that brought you. There was something white coating your tummy from his second cock.

Was this sperm?

It didn’t matter.

You couldn’t live like this anymore.

You proved your father right.

You were only good for one thing.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Wakizashi.

The Wakizashi was smaller than a katana, bigger than a dagger. A weapon civilians could carry around safely.

A weapon many used in suicide.

It was midnight. The moon shining down at you. You stood deep in the forest, bare feet touching the soft grass. You always loved the beauty of nature. The one thing that couldn’t be tainted.

You wore the female kimono you were forced to wear in the Toh. Despite the trauma, you still held the kimono close to you. It was made by your mother.

Your Wakizashi was held tightly in your hand. Its sharp blade glistening in the pale moonlight. You slowly widen your stance, arms gently moving into position as you whispered those faithful words.

“Domain Expansion: Midnight Paradise.”

The paradise soon engulfed you. The familiar spider lilies blooming around you. Sakura petals fluttering from the makeshift sky. It was peaceful.

The ground, however, was dark water.

You’d never done that before. Sukuna must’ve rubbed off on you. A bitter laugh left you. You really allowed a curse to take you—allowing it to plant itself into your heart.

The Wakizashi felt heavy in your grip. Even as you placed the blade against your neck, your hand shook. It rattled in your hand as tears streamed down your face. You didn’t even know why you were hesitating. Sukuna didn’t like you.

He used you for pleasure—he said it himself.

You were simply doing him a favor.

Your grip tightened as you sighed. It would be okay. This is what you always wanted.

Maybe, you’ll be born to a happy family.

The blade cut clean through your throat, blood oozing out. You dropped the Wakizashi as you collapsed. Your eyes fluttered closed as you accepted your death.

Only for you to realize you weren’t bleeding anymore.

You reached up and touched your throat, feeling a scaring instead of the open wound. It… healed?!

“Domain Expansion: Malevolent Shrine.”

“You humans are amusing.” The calming paradise bursts—Sukuna’s shrine appearing in front of you. The spider lilies stayed, curling around you as if it was comforting you. “You seem to have forgotten you belong to me.”

Sukuna appeared on the throne, staring you down with a glare. “I choose when you die. I will grant you the freedom of death. Now, come here.”

You slowly sat up, staring at him in shock. You had so many questions. How? Why? What did he do to make you live?

“Come here. Now.” He said, his tone stern. You stood up on shaky legs, slowly walking over to him. His body seemed larger than before. His eyes narrowing at every movement you took.

Sukuna grabbed your kimono as soon as you were close enough and tore it open. It ripped to shreds, falling to your feet in minutes. You held back your tears, keeping your eyes on the ground.

“(Name), you will look me in the eye when I speak to you.”

You glanced up, feeling your body hiccup as your tears began to flow. Sukuna simply stared at you, his eyes roaming your nude body. He stood up and gripped your face, moving your face upwards.

You expected anger. His cruelty to show for your actions. But his thumb gently traced the scaring across your face. It was from the whipping back then. It was jaggeder, covering your left eye to your right cheek. It was pure luck that you could even see from that eye.

“This body,” his hands trail down to your throat, tracing your new scar across your throat, “isn’t yours anymore. It’s mine. If you wish to die so badly it’ll be my hands.”

His grip tightened, causing you to gasp, your hands clutching at his arm. He stared you down, eyes showing no sign of any heart. But he didn’t strangle you. He moved down, grasping your right breast.

“Humans are insignificant. You should be grateful that I keep you alive. Your only purpose is to please me.” He pushed you into the ground as you gasped out, staring up at him as he kneeled down, tearing off his own robes.

You parted your legs, not even attempting to fight back. But you didn’t want to fight back. You wanted him.

Sukuna smirked. “Some man you are. Whoring yourself so easily.”

“itsokay…becauseits…Sukuna…” You whispered, giving him a soft smile through your tears. Sukuna froze for a moment, staring down at you as he grunted in anger. His hands gripped your waist and pulled you close, rubbing his cocks against your pussy.

“You know your place now?”

“Mmmmh. Sukuna’s…”

Sukuna chuckled, his lips slightly tugging into a smile. It was odd. You felt safe in his presence. The dark thoughts swirling in your brain felt like nonsense when you were near him. But you didn’t know why.

It felt counterintuitive to feel safe in the arms of a man that committed a massacre.

His degradation felt like care. He used a technique to save you.

He must care about you.

Even if the way he showed it was cruel.

Perhaps you weren’t mentally sane.

More than likely.

You reached over, grasping two of Sukuna’s hands and bringing it to your breasts. He easily squeezed them both, pulling at your nipples. A shuddered breath left your lips as you whimpered.

“You must be punished—for damaging my possession.” You feel his cocks teasing your pussy. There was no getting out of it. You’ll be taking both at the same time.

Slowly, inch by inch, his two cocks sinked into your pussy. It was painful—nothing you could have ever imagine. Your breathing shuddered, hands gripping at his shoulder for some form of relief.

How could anyone like this?

Two of his hands gripped your breasts while the other two held your waist down, keeping you still. You wanted to thrash around, pull away due to the pain but he was too strong. But even though it was so painful, your cunt clenched around his cocks.

Your hands moved downwards, tracing his abs as you giggled to yourself. Being so close to him, you could finally take a good look at him.

The black markings all over his body. The second face. His four large arms.

He looked better in the moonlight.

Your hand moved away from his chest, reaching over to grab your Wakizashi. With a swiftness, one of Sukuna’s hands grabbed your wrist.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Wakizashi.”

You managed to pull your wrist away and grab the Wakizashi. You used your other hand to grab one of his and place it over the other gripping the Wakizashi. Sukuna’s eyes stayed on you, his eyebrows raising as he watched you with curiosity.

“Myheart…and….Wakizashi…belongto…Sukuna…Ryomen.”

A childish grin spread on your lips as you leaned up and gently kissed Sukuna’s hand that gripped yours. You looked up, unsure if Sukuna understood you. He seemed to have trouble understanding your form of speech.

But the look he gave you was scary. It was as if he was angry but also… lustful?

He released his grip on your hand and reached up, grabbing the back of your head as he smashed his lips onto yours. Your eyes widen, your hand releasing the Wakizashi. It clattered onto the floor before being pushed away by Sukuna.

You didn’t know curses could kiss.

You never thought a curse would be your first kiss.

But you eagerly kissed back, wrapping your arms around his neck. He manhandled you to lay back down your back as two hands lifted your legs. You almost forgot all about his cocks inside of you.

His hips moved back before slamming forward, causing your body to jostle from the force. You screamed out, nails beginning to claw at his back as he took you.

The sounds of skin slapping and your stuttered moaning filled the domain. Sukuna’s cocks stretched you full, reaching so deep inside you worried he’d spilt you open. You glanced down, seeing the soft tell sign of something bulging against your stomach.

From the inside…

Was that his cock?

Curses were insane.

It didn’t take long for you to reach your orgasm, your cunt clamping tightly around his cocks. But he didn’t let up, using you like a sex toy. Though it didn’t bother you this time—you liked it.

Sukuna’s hips slammed into you as the warm sperm began to coat your inner walls. That was fast.

You glanced up at Sukuna to see him looking away, as if he was also shocked he came that fast. A cocky grin appeared on your lips as you giggled, pressing kisses on Sukuna’s cheek.

“Wasi…thatgood?” You asked, looking up at him with eyes that resembled a puppy. Sukuna didn’t answer, simply pulling away from you despite your whines.

“I’m hungry. Go tell Uraume to cook me a meal.” Sukuna bluntly said, standing up as he slipped back into his robes. You simply wrapped an arm around your chest and clamped your legs closed for decency.

You reached over to grab your Wakizashi when it was quickly taken from you. Your eyes nervously turned over to Sukuna, watching as he lazily flipped the weapon before hiding it in his robe.

“Uhm….my…”

He smirked, “did you not say that it belongs to me now?”

You frowned. Well now you regretted that.

“You’ll earn it once you learn your place. Now go.” His eyes trailed down to the new scar on your throat. You could never tell what Sukuna was feeling but you could’ve sworn he seemed… upset at the sight. But his face quickly became neutral as he walked back to his shrine, sitting down and getting comfortable.

Your fingers gently traced the scaring on your throat. You’ve never seen the technique Sukuna used. It wasn’t something anyone taught you. But it must’ve been a strong one.

And he used it to save you.

Was that….

Love? ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

You haven’t gotten your Wakizashi back.

Sukuna would occasionally taunt you with it, threatening to snap it in half. But he never did. He seemed to enjoy your panicked responses.

He kept it close though. It was always tucked inside his robe. You wondered if he ever used it when he went on his sorcerer killing sprees. Not that he’d ever need to. He could kill towns in minutes.

But it felt nice to have him hold it.

Your speech was still terrible. Uraume was the only person who could understand you, especially when you spoke longer sentences.

“Andi…sawthe…bunnyrush…awaytothe…burrow..! Butigrabbed…thecarrots…itstole!”

“You should’ve killed the bunny.” Uraume responded, handing you a bowl of miso soup. They gave Sukuna a plate that looked to be human meat. You had gotten used to ignoring the smell.

Sukuna stared at you from across the table. “The bunny ran where?”

“Theburrow.”

“Uraume, I thought you were teaching him to speak clearly,” Sukuna said. Uraume shrugged as they sat down beside you.

“Teaching takes time. (Name) is twenty two, it’s harder to change habits by this age.”

It practically became a habit for you to constantly repeat yourself when speaking to Sukuna. Other times he’d tell you to stop speaking. He was still rude and a bit cruel.

But he certainly changed. Judging by the fact he’d occasionally kiss you. Though it wasn’t soft and romantic kisses. Most kisses would leave you breathless with bruised lips.

He still took you whenever he pleased. Having you ride him in front of people. That was still embarrassing. But you learned to live with it.

You were sitting outside, the moon shining down at you as you slowly weaved a bracelet with flower stems. There were three others scattered beside you, dawned with small chrysanthemums decorating them.

The thin robe you wore hardly covered you properly causing you to shiver at a particular rush of cool breeze. You grinned, holding the finished bracelet in triumph. They were larger than your wrists, having been made as large as possible.

As you grabbed the other three, two hands grasped your breasts, harshly squeezing them. You gasped, almost dropping the bracelets as you looked back to see Sukuna. He used his other two hands to lift you up, just as his domain opened around you both.

He sat at his shrine, settling you onto his lap. His hands pulled your robe off as you clutched the bracelets tightly, making sure to not accidentally drop them.

One of his hands trailed between your legs, easily teasing your pussy. You shivered, resting your head on his chest as he slowly teased you open. His large fingers slipped inside your cunt, stretching you out.

“Sukuna…” You mewled. “Gotyoupresent…”

You felt the loud reverberation of his grunt through his chest. It was somehow comforting that he had such human bodily autonomy. Your hands slowly opened, holding them up for him to see. Four brackets with red and white chrysanthemums in the center of the flower stems.

Sukuna grabbed one of them, examining it as his finger continued to stretch you open. He chuckled slightly, placing it back into your palms.

“I don’t need gifts from you.” He said, earning a frown from you. Your lips parted as you tried to argue back only for him to lean down and nip at your lips, kissing you with as much softness as he could possibly muster.

“I already own you.”

Your breathing hitched, staring up at him in shock. You eagerly kissed him back—moaning as he began to feverishly finger you open.

“Takeme…please.” You whispered, placing the brackets onto the ground as you moved to properly straddle him. Your hand pulled his robe open, allowing his cock to freely press against your thigh.

You shyly grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Useme…Sukuna Ryomen.”

Sukuna smirked, two of his hands instantly gripping your hips. “You don’t get to complain later.” He said before slamming you down onto his cock. You screamed out, the painful stretch bringing you a pleasure that you had learned to love.

He bounced you up and down on his cock with reckless abandon. Your sweet, high pitched cries being music to his ears. The sight of you was intoxicating. Your breasts bouncing in tandem with his thrusts—your cunt clenching around his cocks like a vice.

And to think… he was going to kill you that day.

He would’ve missed out on such great pussy.

Whatever he felt for you, he wasn’t sure. But what he did know was that he loved fucking you.

His hand reached down, kneading your ass. He leaned over and began to suckle on one of your nipples, earning a whine from you. You would always end up cumming more than twice, the least.

His name left your lips like a prayer, your nails digging into his shoulder as you wailed out.

You reached your first orgasm in minutes. He could always tell whenever you did. Your nose would scrunch up, lips curling into a frown, as your body began to stiffen. Your cunt would always tighten as well, practically begging him to fuck his cum into you.

The effect you had on him was different. He could last longer with random woman he found but with you… He always found himself releasing faster.

He bit down on your nipple, causing you to shriek at the pain. Despite the cries and whimpers you gave whenever he would intentionally hurt you. Twist a nipple too hard. Spank your ass a bit too red. You would always come back for more.

Fuck… just what have you done to him?

He pulled away from your breasts and pulled you closer, claiming your lips with anger. You helplessly kissed back—unable to really take any sort of control in the kiss.

You pulled away from the kiss to breathe, hiccuping as you nuzzled your face into his neck. He continued to bounce you on his cocks, getting you closer to your second orgasm.

It was unreal. To be so connected to a curse. The King of Curses no less.

You felt the quick swelling of his cocks, indicating he was about to cum. Your cunt tightened as much as it could, earning an animalistic grunt. He began to use you with no regard whatsoever to the bruising his grip left on your body.

He slammed into you just as his cocks began to cum deep inside you. You pulled him close to give him a kiss, reaching your own orgasm.

You didn’t know if what you felt for Sukuna was love. But you certainly didn’t want to live without him.

It’s a shame this would be the last day you saw him.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

It was interesting to see Japan grow so much.

You didn't know that you would’ve been alive for so long. To not age at all. It was a blessing and a curse. You certainly stopped getting to know people, tired of seeing them grow old in age or even die by unfortunate events.

You would occasionally see how the sorcerers were doing. But you never got close—knowing you were technically a betrayer. Uraume was still with you though they would occasionally disappear to meet a man named Kenjaku.

Other curses still disgusted you so you never made any effort to speak to them like Uraume did. They kept speaking as if they could bring back Sukuna but you didn’t really believe it.

No, it was more so you didn’t think it would be a great idea. You’d lived longer than you’d been with Sukuna at this point. And while you still love him, you knew deep down humans were doomed if he were to come back.

The soft breeze gently flew past as you sat in the woods. Moonlight shining down on you as you moved to lay down.

Something felt off, but you had pushed the feeling away. Being able to live for so long should’ve been a blessing though you would occasionally wish to die.

But you never got your Wakizashi back. You assumed Sukuna died with it.

You didn’t know if that made you feel better or not.

People were nice. Many calling you a man. It was like a dream come true.

It was like two sides fought inside of you.

The need to protect human lives.

The want to kiss and hug Sukuna.

Why couldn’t you have fallen in love with someone normal?

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“You shouldn’t come to Shibuya tonight.”

The soft hums of the television almost entirely drowned out Uraume’s voice. You looked over at them, watching as they grabbed something from the closet. Shibuya?

“I haven’t been to Shibuya in a while.” You said, glancing back at the tv. Your style of speech was more coherent after centuries of practice. Though you would sometimes revert back when emotional.

“Why? Is something going to happen in Shibuya?”

Uraume simply hummed. “Could your body handle Sukuna today?”

You got up from the couch and walked over to Uraume. “Hm? Handle him?” Your hands rested against the countertop of the kitchen as you thought for a moment. “No. I haven’t had sex in centuries. I’m a virgin again.”

You giggled at your own joke while Uraume rolled their eyes.

They turned over to you, their eyes trailing over your body. “Your chest is bigger.”

You glanced down at your chest before glaring at them. “I just gained weight.”

“That’s a good thing.” They patted you on the back. “Bigger is better. I’ll be back.”

You mutely waved as Uraume left, humming to yourself. Bigger is better? You were pretty sure you had seen porn ads with that as a slogan. But there was a weird feeling your tummy. Why did Uraume suddenly ask you about Sukuna?

It been forever. Did they….

No. You pushed the thought away. You’d become a stuttering mess if Sukuna appeared in front of you.

But you were sure you’d kill him.

Just for leaving you.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“You’re okay keeping your face like that?”

“For now. If I’m going to be fighting amongst sorcerers, it’s better to maintain this kind of appearance.”

…..

“Where is he?”

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Uraume hasn’t been back for a while now. You didn’t get too worried, they had a habit of doing so. It mainly worried you that things seemed off. A massacre happened in Shibuya.

It felt too similar to his work.

You shrugged it off, knowing just how difficult to was to reincarnate Sukuna.

But what if…

You groaned in frustration. You needed to go visit the forest. Your favorite forest was all over the place. You would always change it whenever you felt tired of another. This forest was beautiful with a large crystal blue lake.

Small baby ducks floated about while its mother watched. You sat down right next to the lake, putting your feet in it for some cool water against your skin.

The pale moonlight shunned down on you, always being a comforting blanket. It would always calm you down. Your legs slowly treaded through the water, sending small waves to the ducks.

A giggle escaped your lips as you watched the baby ducks scatter at the sudden movement.

You leaned over and stared at your reflection, gently poking it with your index finger. Soft ripples carried across the lake.

Your mind began to blank as you yawned. The ease of distractions began to push away any worry you had before. Until you felt… something was off.

The forest was silent. No more soft rustle of the wind. Crickets. Birds. Even the ducks on the water were long gone. Something was wrong.

You slipped out of the water, glancing around. You slowly stood up and tried to ignore your own wishes for your Wakizashi. You’d get through without it.

But nothing happened. It was still—nothing came out and attacked you. You shook your head, scratching at your scalp as you turned back to face the lake.

“Domain Expansion: Malevolent Shrine.”

Those words.

That voice.

The familiar black water pooled your bare feet. The same shrine covered in human skulls. The memories of cleaning it. Sitting on Sukuna’s lap while he taunted helpless sorcerers.

Spider lilies began to bloom around you, forming a circle. The moon was still shining down on you. You didn’t want to turn around. In fear of just how you’d react to seeing him.

Would he look the same? Did he still like you?

Did he ever like you?

You felt young again. The young and naive (Name) rushing back in. Who couldn’t speak properly. Who couldn’t fight to save his life.

Two hands suddenly appeared from behind you and spun you around.

He was still taller than you. His markings still all over his body. But his hair was black this time. He didn’t have two arms either. You almost didn’t believe it was him until a smirk spread on his lips.

Yeah… that’s your Sukuna.

Your body felt stiff as you slowly stepped forward before leaping into his arms. His arms immediately wrapped around your waist, holding you close as you began to wail. Your hands gripped at his body—making sure this wasn’t a dream.

He was real. He was real.

“You’ve missed me, huh?” He teased, his hand trailing downwards to grip your hips. His thumbs sinked into your skin as if he was now checking if you were real too.

“Mhm….missedsukuna…solonely…” You whined, cursing when you noticed you couldn’t speak properly anymore. Now that was just embarrassing.

You continued hugging him, leaning in as close as humanly possible. Your hands gripping at his shoulders while you buried your face in his neck.

You really did betray your clan, cuddling with the murderer.

A sudden squeeze at your breasts caught your attention. You pulled away a bit to see Sukuna squeezing both of your breasts together. He smirked, his thumbs rubbing against your nipples through the shirt.

“They’re bigger.”

You glared at him. “Stopit. Youcanttouch…meuntil…iget…Wakizashi!” Sukuna rolled his eyes but complied, pulling away as he reached into his robes. Slowly, he pulled out your Wakizashi. Its gold sheath somehow still shining proudly.

Your hands practically snatched it away from him as you held it in the air, letting the moonlight shine down on it.

As beautiful as you remembered.

It looked recently cleaned. You glanced back at Sukuna, biting your lip. He kept it safe. He kept your Wakizashi safe.

Which meant…

He kept your heart safe.

“Do I get a reward for keeping that pathetic excuse of a weapon safe?” Sukuna asked, crossing his arms across his chest. Despite his words, you knew he took its protection seriously.

You mutely nodded. “Didn’t….sleepwith…anyone. Not since…youwere…gone.” You slowly placed the weapon on the floor as you stepped over to Sukuna.

“Kept myself just for you.” You managed to say before looking down in embarrassment. “Istill…belong…to…sukunaryomen.”

A grip on your chin caused you to flinch as he forced you to look up at him. Sukuna stared down at you, his eyes roaming your face. The same whip scaring on your face almost gone in its entirety. The scar on your neck completely faded.

“I see I have to remind you of the rules.” He said, forcefully tutting your head around as he continued to look at you. “Let’s sey that cunt of yours can handle me.”

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

You missed this. His fingers thrusting into your pussy as he stretched you. Roughly kneading your breast with his free hand. It was weird being only touched by two hands—you couldn’t wait until he got his normal body.

Your back arched, soft mewls leaving your lips. You were fully nude, sat atop of Sukuna’s lap as he sat on his throne. Your cunt was tight. You really haven’t touched yourself ever since Sukuna left.

“Were you waiting for me?” Sukuna suddenly asked, his thumb teasing your clit as you whimpered. “Waiting to be used as my whore again?”

“Nghhh…”

“I was waiting to fuck this pussy again.” He slowly spread your pussy open. “Squeezing your tits. All I had was that fucking Wakizashi of yours.” He muttered bitterly, slamming his fingers deep into your cunt. You cried out, your hips moving upward as you tried to catch your breath.

He didn’t care that it had been centuries since you had sex. He seemed to enjoy that you were so loyal to him that you practiced celibacy.

“You’re lucky I need to feel your pussy around my cock—you deserve a punishment for not fulfilling your duties.” He pulled open his robe, his cock springing out. Your shuddered, feeling it rub against your pussy.

“What…duties…?” You whispered.

Sukuna harshly squeezed your breast, pulling at the nipple. You cried out in pain—your body squirming in his grip as his cock began teasing your pussy.

“You must’ve forgotten your place.” He whispered into your ear. “No matter, I’ll remind you of it.”

His cock slammed into your pussy, ignoring your scream of pain. He was harsh and unforgiving. Your body spasmed as it tried to get used to the harsh thrusting. It’d been so long, you already felt yourself feel close to an orgasm.

Sukuna’s hands gripped your thighs, pulling them upward as he thrusted into your tight cunt. The sound of skin slapping and your stuttered moaning filled the domain.

Despite the pain, you couldn’t help the slight smile on your lips. You missed being used like a toy for his pleasure. A groan left you as your pussy clenched around his cock. Even as you orgasmed, Sukuna didn’t let you, using you to reach his own.

You felt his cock suddenly pulsate in you as warm cum filled your insides. A shuddered moan left your lips. You almost forgot just how warm sperm could be.

But you began to feel yourself being moved up and down. His hands moved to grip your waist, easily bouncing you on his cock. The overstimulation instantly caused you discomfort but your whines fell on deaf ears.

“I’ve been without your cunt for centuries.” He said, grunting as you clenched around his cock. Your hands gripped at his thighs. You couldn’t hold back your moans, they were on the verge of screams. It was so much for what was essentially your first time.

Sukuna grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head back, smashing his lips into yours. You eagerly kissed back. The kiss reminded you of all the past ones. The bites on your lips. The feeling as if he was stealing your breath away.

As you pulled away, he gave you a lustful smirk.

“I intend to make up for lost time.”

You weren’t going to be able to walk for years.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

wowowo….my first fic at 10k words…. Jesus! I hope I did Sukuna justice <3

tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @chill-guy-but-cooler @iwishtobeacrow @tehyunnie @flurrina @mello-life69 @ofclyde @smellwell @tomoeroi @remdayz @rhetorical-conscience @love-kha1 @star-3214 @kiiyoooo @ac3ifix

#bottom male reader #x male reader #sub male reader #uke male reader #mlm ns/fw #sukuna x male reader #sukuna #sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna #jjk x male reader #ftm mlm #mlm nsft

2K notes · View notes

aemondsbabe · 11 months

Text

Taunt

obviously, i feel very normal and chill about ewan's new performance in saltburn. anyways lmao this is my version of michael gavey from the vibes i got from him in the 5 seconds he's in the trailer! i have no idea if this is accurate to how he is truly portrayed in the movie! if the movie comes out and i'm totally wrong, then i don't care bc i got to have fun writing about a cheeky lil oxford student!!

summary: you're nearly failing statistics and the student your professor asks to tutor you seems to gain a sick satisfaction from seeing you squirm; he hates you...or so think.

pairing: michael gavey x reader

warnings: mature, 18+ (minors, do not enter!!!) no use of Y/N, afab reader, profanity, smut, piv smut, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), dom/sub, brief daddy kink (literally one mention), dirty talk, dumbification, humiliation (only a bit), size kink if you squint, mild angst but happy ending, choking i guess (barely), public sex (they're alone but like it's still public lmao), brief discussions of math -- please let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 10.5k (dear lord)

a/n: baby's first fic omg! if you enjoy this one and want to see more from me, please feel free to send in requests! (GoT, HoTD, Stranger Things, Marvel, etc!)

PRAISE | Taunt Part 2

MAKING AMENDS | Bonus

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!🌟

“Right, so,” Professor Davies began, pulling a thick textbook off the shelf next to his desk, “Since we’ve only just returned from Easter holiday, I thought I’d go easy on you today.”

A few quiet groans could be heard around the room, a couple students turning to look at one another with grimaces; in the few weeks you’ve been in Professor Davies’s class, he’s never once gone easy on you. With a small sigh, you shuffle through your spiral notebook until you come to a blank page.

“D’you think you’ll go to the party this weekend?” Louise whispers, leaning over closer to you as she twirls a pen around in her fingers, “I heard this one is supposed to be fucking insane.”

“Like any of Felix’s parties aren’t insane?” You whisper back, smirking as you doodle a small flower on the corner of a page of paper, “Of course I’ll be there,” you murmur, watching as Professor Davies writes an intricate formula on the chalkboard, “I could really use a break, anyway…I’ve been so stressed recently.”

“Christ…” A boy, in the row of desks in front of you scoffs, just barely shaking his head as he copies down the formula, his handwriting sharp and choppy. You feel blood rush to your cheeks as you narrow your eyes, staring intently at his sandy hair. You didn’t really know him, this being your only class with him, but you’d seen him around campus, regularly passing by him in the halls. Oxford may be a large university, but when you’re on campus everyday, you begin recognizing familiar faces.

He didn’t run in the same crowds as you at all, and you got the distinct impression that he looked down on you and the rest of your friends, but you knew his name – Michael and that he was incredibly smart, his hand promptly shooting into the air anytime Professor Davies asked a question. In the few weeks you’d been in the same statistics class, you had yet to see him get a question wrong, watching as he grinned, cocky, everytime he was praised for correctly solving even the most intricate of formulas.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t be more the opposite, always shying away and praying not to hear Professor Davies call your name in his deep, baritone voice every time his eyes scanned the crowd, looking for a volunteer, or victim, more like. While Michael clearly enjoyed the class, practically glowing with an arrogant confidence as soon as he walked into the wood paneled lecture hall, you were simply here to check it off as a requirement of your major, hoping to survive the class with a C and nothing more.

It was annoying, you wouldn’t deny that, the way that smug smirk seemed to be permanently etched onto his face, how that stupid taunting glimmer was an ever-present fixture of his blue eyes — blue eyes which, seemingly, always managed to find their way to you, one way or another.

His attention was intimidating at first, his cold stare leaving you unsure of what exactly his intention was. Was he trying to challenge you? Trying to determine if he knew you from somewhere else? A small part of you, a naive part, hoped that his staring was meant to be affectionate; he was cute, you’d admit it! Always showing up to class in cozy knit sweaters, his wavy hair still ruffled and untidy as if he’d just gotten out of bed, gold rimmed glasses perched atop a strong nose.

You quickly tear your gaze away from the back of Michael’s head, biting your bottom lip as you begin copying down the problem on the chalkboard, pausing briefly when you see, from the corner of your eye, his head turn as he glances at you over his shoulder. You felt your cheeks flush despite yourself, that small, sanguine voice in the back of your head cheering.

“Now, then,” Professor Davies booms, dropping the textbook down on his desk with a cacophonous thud before sweeping his eyes across the classroom, “A bit of review before we really dive in…” He continues, pacing around the front of the room as he explains the various parts and pieces of the equation on the board.

“What do you think you’ll wear?” Louise asks, leaning over once more to whisper in your ear, you can smell her signature floral perfume on her hair, “I was thinking I’d do that new blue-ish dress I got, you know, the strappy one?”

“Might still be too cold for strappy,” you whisper back, half listening to the professor drone on as you continue doodling on your paper, pausing every few minutes to jot down a few haphazard notes, “I was just thinking I’d do a jumper, probably a skirt and tights–”

Suddenly, you hear Professor Davies call your name, your cheeks practically stinging as blood rushes to your face. Sitting up straighter, you finally find the courage to meet his stern gaze, “Since you seem all too eager to share your thoughts,” He continues slowly stalking towards you across wooden floorboards that softly creak beneath his feet, “Would you care to enlighten us with the solution to the quadratic equation on the board?” He comes to a stop, hands clasped behind his back as he patiently waits for you to answer, a small, knowing smile poised on his lips.

“I– uhm, well,” you stutter, glancing back and forth between your barely there notes and the chalkboard, throat growing tighter as you feel everyone's eyes on you, “Don’t you need to solve for G first?”

“And how would you go about doing that?”

“Well, you would…” You trail off, desperately trying to remember the lessons you’d had before Easter holiday, absentmindedly picking at your cuticle as you pray to be anywhere but here or for a hole to open in the floor and swallow you whole, “I…I don’t recall, professor. I’m sorry.” You finally say, not being able to meet his gaze as you stare intently at your lap, desperately willing yourself not to cry, even as you feel your eyes stinging.

“Perhaps, in the future, it would be of benefit to socialize with your friends outside of my classroom.” Professor Davies admonishes, giving a sharp glare to Louise as well, who manages an apologetic smile. “Yes, Professor.” You whisper, keeping your eyes downturned.

Finally, you hear the floorboards softly creaking once more as Professor Davies makes his way back up to the podium at the front of the room and once again resumes his lecture. You can’t help but pause for a second when you hear a small snicker from the tall boy in front of you, sensing as he peers at you over his shoulder once again.

“Would anyone else like to take a crack at the problem on the board?” Professor Davies asks, leaning against the old, worn podium at the front of the room. Like clockwork, Michael’s hand shoots into the air. Somehow, that makes you blush even harder.

Eventually, Professor Davies finishes his lecture and retrieves his dark leather briefcase from under the desk, pulling a thick stack of papers out and sitting them on the podium, leaning over it with a sigh, “I have your tests graded. Most of you did very well, you should be pleased with yourselves. Some of you, however,” He says pointedly, “Could benefit greatly from a closer study of the material.”

Slowly, he walks around the room passing back tests, throwing out a comment here and there as he did so. You already know you hadn't done well on that particular test and dread getting it back and confirming your suspicions, so you keep yourself busy, choosing to meticulously pack up your things instead.

“Mr. Gavey,” he said a few feet away from you, papers rustling as he slid the test across the wooden surface of the long bench desks, “Once more, an outstanding job! Top of the class, keep it up.”

“Thank you, Professor,” you glance up, watching as he takes the paper with a humble nod, that same, oh-so pleased smile gracing his angular face. He must sense you looking at him and quickly shifts his gaze in your direction, eyes glimmering with self-satisfaction behind his gold-rimmed glasses as his smile quickly turns into a smirk. Finally, you tear your gaze away from his with a small, bewildered huff. Why did he seem to get so much satisfaction from besting you, of all people? It’s not like you were exactly an academic threat.

“Ms. Bickerstaff,” Professor Davies says, finally appearing next to the table you and Louise sat at, “Not bad, a bit more effort next time and you’re sure to be on track,” he remarks, sliding her paper across the desk. Louise thanks him with a small smile as she flips through her test, eyes scanning over his marks.

Finally, Professor Davies stands before you once again, your paper the very last in his hands. You hear him mutter your last name before he slides the paper across the desk to you, and you can’t help but deflate as you see your grade; you knew it would be bad, but that? How on Earth were you going to recover your average? What if you had to retake the whole course? What if you failed out of Oxford entirely? Your parents had sacrificed so much to help you get here, spending years and untold amounts of money on private tutors and extracurricular materials, all to help you have an impressive application! Not to mention the money just for the course fees! Unlike most of your friends, you didn’t come from piles and piles of money and status – your family was alright, sure, but you were definitely several tax brackets below them.

As your thoughts spiraled, you felt Louise elbow you in the side at the same time you heard Professor Davies address you again. Shaking your head to clear your scattered thoughts, you clear your throat and finally turn to look up at him, “Sorry, yes, Professor?”

“As I was saying,” Professor Davies continues, tapping the papers in front of you, “I would like to discuss your performance with you today, after class. Please meet me at the front of the room before you go.”

“Yes, sir.” you mumble dejectedly, nodding as you quickly flip the test over, embarrassed at the thought of anyone else seeing your grade.

“I’ll see you later, babes,” Louise says a few minutes later as everyone is clearing out of the room, “Good luck!” She whispers, giving you a reassuring pat on the shoulder before making her way to the door.

“Thanks!” you smile weakly, swallowing the lump in your throat before picking up your things and heading to the front of the room. The afternoon sun is already getting lower in the sky, beams of light shining into the room, bathing rectangular swaths of the floor in bright, golden light and highlighting motes of dust as they scatter in the air. Only a few students are left in the classroom, some of them finishing up notes while others type out quick texts. As you walk by his desk, you notice Michael scribbling down notes in his planner.

You shuffle your feet nervously as you stand in front of the sizable oak desk that your professor sits at, watching as he adds a sticky note to the top of another stack of papers, “You wanted to see me, Professor?”

“Ah, yes!” He says, looking up at you over his glasses. He quickly caps his pen and stands, walking around the desk to stand in front of you, “I know this class has been quite the challenge,” he begins, leaning against the desk, “But, I think I’ve found a solution for you.”

“You have?” You ask, tilting your head in confusion.

“I think you could benefit greatly from a tutor, perhaps a peer who could explain the material to you in a different way,” he continues, “And I have just the student in mind.” Instantly, you feel a pit beginning to form in your stomach, biting your bottom lip as you watch Professor Davies motion for someone behind you to come up to the desk, “Mr. Gavey, if you could join us up here, please.”

You freeze when you feel him saunter up beside you, eyeing him out of the corner of your eye. He was so much taller than you, your head barely grazing his shoulder, as he came to a stop next to you, standing casually with his backpack slung over one shoulder.

Professor Davies once again turns his attention to you, motioning to Michael as he speaks, “Mr. Gavey here is one of my most capable students,” you can’t help but notice him stand up straighter at the comment, growing somehow even taller, “I’ve taken the liberty of asking him if he would be so kind as to assist you with some of the course work and he agreed.” You freeze a little at that, stunned that he would be so quick to help you when he seems to relish any opportunity to make you squirm. “I’ve given it some thought,” the professor continues, fixing you with a stern gaze, “And I’m willing to let you make corrections to your test and resubmit it for half credit.”

“Oh, thank you so much, prof–”

“However,” he adds, crossing his arms over his chest, “This will be the only time I do so. From now on, I suggest you see Mr. Gavey here on a regular basis; the material is only going to get more challenging as we begin this next unit.”

“Of course, professor. Thank you again.” You respond quietly, shifting uneasily as you stand between the two men.

“Right, well, now that’s sorted,” Professor Davies says, clapping his hands together once as he turns and makes his way back over to the desk chair, sitting down with a tired sigh, “I trust the two of you can come to an agreement upon when and where to meet. I’ll see you again Monday, have a pleasant weekend.” He says, waving his hand dismissively as he goes back to organizing his papers.

The two of you murmur your goodbyes before making your way into the hall, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as he follows you out of the classroom. Eventually, you come across a small alcove in the hallway; finally turning to face him, you let your eyes sweep up his body, finally coming to meet his blue eyes, slightly hidden behind the glare of the hallway lights on his glasses.

“So,” you clear your throat and shift on your feet awkwardly, “Uh, what time works for you? I really can’t do Saturdays–” you begin, only to be cut off.

“Shame,” Michael sighs dismissively, a smirk pulling at one corner of his mouth, “Saturday is the only day that works for me.”

The tone of his voice and the mirthful glint in his eyes makes you very much doubt that, your gaze narrowing, “Okay, well Saturday’s are the only day I have off,” you huff, only growing more annoyed as the stupid smirk on his face grows with satisfaction, no doubt pleased that he’s being a nuisance, “Besides, I super can’t tomorrow, anyway. I already promised my friends I’d come with them to this party tha–”

“Oh, I know about your little party,” Michael scoffs, “Trust me, love, the whole damn class heard about that stupid fucking party with the way you lot were running your mouths earlier,” he chuckles coldly, continuing in an exaggerated high-pitched voice, one hand coming up to mime twirling a lock of hair, “Oooooh, it’s so cold, can’t wear the fuckin’ strappy dress, gotta wear me jumper and little slutty skirt, la-dee-dah.” He finishes with a final huff of laughter.

“What is your deal with me?!” You finally snap, glaring at him, even as you feel your face redden, “You’ve been a dick all semester and I haven’t done anything to you! I’ve never even talked to you!” Glancing around the empty hallway, you cross your arms over your chest, praying no one’s in earshot to hear your hissed tirade.

“I might not know you but I know plenty about your little friends,” he sneers, shaking his head like a disappointed father; the sight makes your blood boil.

“What does that even mean?” You demand, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. What did your friends have to do with any of this? None of them ever spoke about Michael, none of them even knew him as far as you were aware.

His face softens, if only for a moment, as he registers the genuine confusion on your face, smirk faltering as his eyes narrow. He leans in closer to you as he begins speaking again and you can’t help but get a brief smell of the cologne he wears, something warm and woodsy that makes you think of a bookshop and the smell of the forest after it rains, “Come on,” he starts, blue eyes flitting between both of yours as he looks at you intently, “Felix Catton? You and your little friend, the one from class, you go around with him, yeah?”

You nod, giving him another puzzled look, confused as to what the hell Felix has to do with any of his disdain, “Yeah,” you say slowly, drawing out the word, “But, what does he have to do with anything?”

Michael huffs once more, almost laughing to himself as he shakes his head, burying his hands in the pockets of his jeans, “See, we went to school together, him and I – some of primary, all of secondary,” he shrugs, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he traps you in his gaze once again, “And I just don’t fucking like the guy. Can’t stand him, never could’ve.”

You’re silent for a second, and now it’s your turn to flick your eyes back and forth, searching each of his for some sort of coherent answer and yet you come up empty. “But, what does that have to do with me?” You ask slowly, making sure to carefully enunciate each word.

“Don’t trust the people around him either,” he mutters, gazing down at his shoe, “Weirdos, the whole lot. There’s something…off about the guy. Can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something dark there, all around him. Like he’s putting on one big show. All his little gremlins do too, they all act the same.”

The two of you are silent for a moment, neither knowing quite what to say next. You chance a glance up at him, nearly gasping when you find him already gazing at you – an unreadable expression on his face. Yet a light blush still blooms on your cheeks as you quickly look away once again, your heart thudding so loudly you’re wondering if he can hear it – hell, you’re wondering why you’re reacting this way at all, why you’re so shy and skittish around him.

“M’not like that,” you very nearly whisper, finally seeming to regain your voice. Only to lose it once again when he takes a half step toward you, suddenly crowding you further into the small alcove.

He makes a small noise, damn near cooing at you, tilting his head to the side when he notices you flinch as he raises an arm, gently raising your chin with one hand, angling your head up to meet his gaze, that signature smirk once again taking hold on his face as he looks at you curiously, “You’re not like that, are you?” He asks, his voice low and raspy.

You quickly shake your head, blinking up at him, unsure of what exactly he wants from you. You feel your cheeks stinging for the umpteenth time today with how hard you’re blushing, a strange feeling taking root in your stomach the longer you stare at him, that small voice in your head positively cheering.

But, as quickly as whatever spell he seems to have on you takes hold, it’s broken as he suddenly lets go of your chin and steps back, casually pursing his lips and nodding to himself, coming to some unknown decision in his head, “Meet me in Bodleian, tomorrow at five. There’s hardly anyone up on the third floor on the weekends, so we'll be able to focus.” He says simply, turning on his heel to leave without even giving you a second to answer.

“But I’m bus–”

“D’you want a good grade or do you want to go get drunk with your creepy gremlin friends?” He asks, peering over his shoulder as he saunters down the hallway, raising an eyebrow at you over the shiny gold rim of his glasses, “S’your call, love.” He finishes with a shrug, disappearing as he turns a corner and leaves you standing there alone, frowning and dumbstruck.

“Bodleian at five it is,” you mutter to yourself, sighing as you turn and walk the opposite way, desperately trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach and the fog in your brain.

Your shoes tap against the stone pavement as you walk up to the old library, backpack slung over one shoulder; reaching into a pocket of your backpack, you blindly grab for your phone as you pull open one of the heavy, old wooden doors and step into the atrium. Out of all of Oxford’s libraries, you had to admit that Bodleian was one of your favorites; it had such a soothing atmosphere – from the way the evening light trickled in through the old glass windows, to the intricate wooden decor, and the way the entire place smelled of the old, well-loved books that lined the countless rows of shelves.

Stepping to the side of the entryway, you check the time, your hand shaking a bit as you unlock your phone – 4:53pm, a little early, still. Sighing, you crane your head, nervously looking for Michael. Not seeing him, you decide to bide your time examining one of the tall bookshelves near the entrance, eyes skimming over their titles as you fiddle with the strings of the hoodie you’d decided to wear. Smiling, you lean up on your tiptoes to grab a copy of The Two Towers, happy to see a familiar book. Just as your fingers graze over the embossed gold lettering on the spine of the book, a large pair of hands grab you by the shoulders.

“Boo!” Someone whispers, close enough that you feel the warmth of their breath on the side of your neck.

You spin around with a small shriek, jerking your head to the side when a hand is suddenly clasped over your mouth.

“Shh! Hey, relax!” Finally managing to focus on the face in front of you, your breathing slows as your gaze meets a pair of round blue eyes. Michael’s face is only inches from yours, concern evident, even behind the mask of a smirk he wears. “It’s only me.” He says softly, smirk softening into a genuine smile that sends a frantic tingle down your spine, which you desperately try to ignore as you nod against his hand, gasping in a small breath as it lowers once again to rest on your shoulder.

“Hi.” Blinking up at him, you breathe the word more so than say it as you settle back on your feet, cheeks flushing as you realize he has his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you forward ever so slightly, like he wanted to make sure your head didn’t hit the sharp edge of one of the shelves; the voice in your head purrs as the butterflies in your stomach summersalt.

“Hi.” He answers and you feel the hand on your shoulder twitch, the ghost of a comforting squeeze or rub causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand on end as some strange, warm weight settles in the pit of your stomach.

Suddenly, whatever spell the two of you seemed to be under broke and you quickly clambered away from one another. Michael cleared his throat, running a hand through his wheat colored hair as you tugged at the sleeves of your hoodie, trying to look anywhere but in his direction. “Should we–” He starts suddenly, nodding his head to a staircase at the other end of the room, “It’ll be quieter up there.”

“Sure!” You chirp, giving him a curt nod, “Lead the way, you seem to know the place better than I do.”

“Well,” he chuckles, keeping his voice low as he moves past you, “S’what happens when you don’t spend all your damn time at weirdo parties.”

You roll your eyes behind him, huffing as you start following him up the staircase, one of your hands gliding across the smooth, polished wood of the bannister.

“Sorry.” He says suddenly as you reach the third floor of the library, running a hand through his hair once again as he stands at the top of the staircase.

“What?” You ask, coming to a stop on the last step and looking up at him, tilting your head to the side as you lean against the handrail.

“For earlier,” he explains, gesturing for you to follow him as he starts making his way to the back corner of the large, open space, the one furthest from the stairs, “Scaring you, I mean. Didn’t mean to.”

You’re quiet for a moment, following him as the two of you walk past aisle after aisle of towering bookshelves. The area is definitely quieter than the main floor, nearly vacant aside from one or two lone students sitting at the long wooden study tables. It’s calm up here, evening light filtering in through large windows on either end of the long room, casting large shadows on the floor and vaulted ceilings.

Eventually, the two of you come to a stop at a table, the very last in its row, tucked away in a corner. “It’s alright,” you shrug, trying to keep your voice soft in the quiet space as you sit your backpack on the edge of the table, “I don’t know why I’m so jumpy today, maybe the tea from earlier.” You lie, hopefully smoothly, and quickly grab a pen and notebook as well, before sitting down.

Michael huffs to himself as he sits his things out on the table as well, like he’s laughing at a joke you can’t hear, “Maybe it’s all that tension.”

“Wh– tension?” You question, cringing at the urgency in your voice as you pray that he doesn’t pick up on it, shifting in your seat as he pulls out the chair next to you and plops down, completely relaxed as if he owns the place.

“The stress? That you were meant to be working out at Catton’s?” He gives you an odd look, resting his head against his hand as he leans his elbow on the table, “Couldn’t help but overhear your little conversation yesterday.”

“Oh…” You breathe, a pink haze settling over your cheeks once more as you fidget with your pen, acutely aware of how easily he seems to be able to make you blush.

The smirk on his face widens as he narrows his eyes, studying you in a way that makes your heart squeeze, your thighs clenching together as that heady weight from earlier makes itself known again in your stomach, “You can’t keep one thought in that head, can you, love?”

You blink, unsure of what to say, as two halves of your brain argue with one another. Why is he so mean? You wonder to yourself, eyes searching his, as you frown, And…God, why do I like it?

“Why don’t you like me?” You ask, finally breaking the silence with your small voice.

He scoffs again, shaking his head as if the answer should be obvious to you, “You don’t take it seriously. You come to class and whisper and gossip with your damn friend or doodle in your little notebook, but you don’t fucking listen.” He sits back up, frowning, “I work hard every fucking day in there, for fuck’s sake, I only agreed to help you because I want to be Davies’s teaching assistant next year! Yet you and Catton and everyone like you can just pay their way in here, collecting a little diploma from Oxford just so their parents can brag about it with their stupid fucking rich friends.” He finally finishes, turning his head to stare out the window.

“Told you, I’m not like that,” you whisper after a moment, voice wavering from the tightness in the back of your throat, “I’m here on scholarship, same as you.”

His eyes flit back to you, his frown deepening, “How did you know ab–”

“Like I’m not going to ask around about the guy tutoring me?”

“Fair enough.” He concedes after a minute.

Silence settles over the two of you again, like a stalemate, waiting to see who would crack first. Finally, you turn to him with a sigh, nodding to your test paper on the desk, “Can we just get this done? I don’t want to be here any more than you do.”

“Ah, of course,” he nods as he picks up your test, looking over the first incorrect problem, “Catton’s big important party. And you’re stuck here with a loser like me; must really be doing your head in, huh?”

You want so badly to correct him, to tell him that no, actually, for once, you were kind of excited to not be at one of Felix’s parties. You wanted to tell him that you’d hoped things would be different, maybe if it was just the two of you he would drop the arrogant asshole bit, that you stupidly hoped it was just an act.

Instead, you bite your lip, determined not to lash out and give him another reason to dislike you, “I don’t think you’re a loser, Michael,” you say, tiredly meeting his gaze, “Can we just focus on this now, please?”

He’s quiet for a moment, frozen like you’d said something groundbreaking. Finally, he nods his head, almost imperceptibly like he’d come to a decision you weren’t privy to, “Sure,” he says gruffly, grabbing your test and reading over the first incorrect problem, “S’not like I’m the one failing.” He finishes, his voice tight and determined, like he knew it was something he’d regret saying even as the words left his mouth.

See? You think silently, pointed words aimed at that stupid voice in your head, Told you so.

It’s barely an hour later and you already feel cross-eyed, groaning as Michael flips your test over to the next page and you see you’re only just now halfway done correcting the ones you’d gotten wrong. You hate to admit it to yourself, but his tutoring was helping — problems that you’d hardly been able to finish the first time seem far less daunting as he explains them to you. Even he seems less daunting as the hour goes on; shockingly, he doesn’t make anymore snide comments and you can tell that he genuinely enjoys talking about the subject, patiently helping you through each problem.

“Can we take a break?” You grumble, laying your head down on top of your textbook.

“What?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he checks his watch, “It’s hardly been an hour and you’re ready to give up?”

“‘M not giving up,” you mumble, “I just think we could use a little break…” You say hopefully, looking at him with a small smile. When he doesn’t break, holding your gaze with a frown, you sigh, “Just, like, ten minutes, please?”

You want to groan again when you see that formidable smirk make its home on his lips again, “Say please again.” He commands, his voice low.

“Huh?” You balk, nearly dropping your phone as you retrieve it from your pocket.

“Say please again,” he says slowly, his smirk only growing wider as he watches your cheeks redden, “Beg.”

“W-why?” You question, face burning as you try your damndest to look unbothered by his request.

He shrugs dismissively, “Makes you squirm,” he answers finally, leaning back in his chair, “I like that.”

“Why?” Your voice is so small you doubt he’d even know you spoke if his eyes weren’t fixed on you.

He hums, a satisfied noise, like you’ve finally managed to meander into a trap he’d set ages ago, “S’fucking cute,” he huffs out a laugh when he sees your eyes widen, “Makes you blush and act all dumb.”

You know you should be offended, but you can’t find it within yourself to care, “You think I’m cute?”

He chuckles, sighing, “That’s what you choose to focus on?”

“Do you?”

“Fine, yes.”

“Please, Michael,” you say suddenly, the words feeling practically punched from your throat, “Please, please can we have a break? Please, only ten minutes?” You beg, breathing hard as you quickly scan the room, shoulders relaxing when you don’t see anyone else sitting at the study tables.

You see the way his eyes widen behind his glasses, like he can’t believe you actually did it, before they narrow once more, overtaken by a satisfied gleam, “Ten minutes.” He says simply, leaning back in his chair yet again, letting his head flop back, relaxed, and closes his eyes.

You don’t move for a second, letting your eyes study the side of his face, looking over his sharp jawline and the curve of his nose. After a moment, you look away, deciding to pull out your phone.

A few minutes go by as you answer a few texts from Louise, telling her that you miss her too and how you wish you were at the party — a lie, though you can’t find it within yourself to care. You busy yourself for a while longer, watching a few people's Instagram stories, the volume on your phone muted as you watch your friends dance under colorful strobe lights, blowing smoke at the camera and clinking drinks together.

“I meant what I said.” You say finally, laying your phone on the table and picking at one of your cuticles.

“Hm?” Michael questions, not bothering to open his eyes.

“I don’t think you’re a loser,” you answer, fidgeting, “I never have. I think you’re…intriguing.”

“Intriguing?” He asks, finally sitting up and looking at you with a questioning stare, “How so?”

You swallow, tucking your hair behind your ear with a shrug, “You’re smart…you know you’re smart,” you start, voice small and shaky, “I like that.”

“You like that or you like me?” He’s looking at you like a cat playing with a helpless mouse, looking at you like he knows he’s already won a game you don’t even know the two of you are playing.

“You.” It comes out as a breath.

He doesn’t answer and eventually you look away from him, choosing to stare out the window at the streetlights outside, the sky dark.

Finally, the silence becomes overbearing and you break first again, “Thank you,” you smile at him, keeping your voice low even though you know the rest of the floor is vacant, even though the noise of the floors below has drastically faded over the last hour, “For helping me, I mean. You probably have a dozen things you’d rather do on a Saturday.”

He stays quiet for a few seconds, “I didn’t really have anything better to do,” he smirks, “No parties.”

“None?”

“Never,” he shakes his head, shrugging, “Don’t get invited.”

“Oh,” you answer simply, “Well, still, either way, thank you.” You smile again, but it falters when he leans forward suddenly, crowding into your space with a sly grin, so close that you can feel his breath on your neck.

“I know a way you could repay me, love,” he whispers lowly into your ear, your hair standing on end, “Only if you want to, of course.” He adds, his long fingers toying with a strand of your hair.

Your eyes grow comically wide as you process what he just said, “H-how do you want me to repay you?” You whisper, your eyes finally meeting his.

He laughs softly, letting go of the strand of your hair to rest his hand lightly against the side of your face, his thumb skimming over your cheek as he watches a rosy hue settle across it, “I can think,” he starts, thumb moving lower to skate across your bottom lip, slightly tugging the skin with it, “Of one very fucking good way to put this mouth to use, love.”

You part your lips slightly, letting the tip of his thumb into your mouth, just barely holding it between your teeth as you lightly run your tongue over it, heart skipping a beat at the way his lips just barely part in shock as you do. The voice in your head purrs again, roaring back to life, and you nod, smiling around his finger.

“Yeah?” He questions, smirking as he watches your lips twitch around his thumb, “”Y’wanna?”

“Yes.” You reply around his thumb, your hands coming up to hold onto his forearm, the fabric of his rust colored sweater soft under your hands.

“Beg.” He commands again, eyes twinkling.

You take in a breath, eyes slipping shut as your thighs clench around nothing – missing the way Michael glances down at the movement, a knowing grin forming on his face, “Please, Michael.” You practically whine.

“Ooh,” he coos, finally moving his thumb from your mouth, only to trail his hand down your neck, lightly resting it against your throat, “I think you can do better than that, pretty. Open your eyes and damn beg.”

You follow his orders, a small whimper skirting past your lips at the new pet name as you open your eyes, “Please, Michael, please let me repay you, let me thank you, please.” The words tumble out, your eyes wide and pleading.

“How’re you planning on doing that, empty headed little thing?” He taunts, the hand around your throat just barely tightening but it’s enough to make you let out a small, desperate whine. He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, moving close enough to you that the front of his chest is plastered to your side, his heart beating against your shoulder, “Ask for what you want, beg properly.” His breath fans across the side of your face again, the feeling of his lips brushing over the side of your jaw making you jump.

“Please, God, Michael,” you whine, squeezing your legs together so hard you’re surprised they haven’t fused together, “P-please let me suck your cock — to thank you, thank you for helping me.” You add quickly, breath shaky as you turn your head to look at him imploringly.

He chuckles, but he looks pleased as he leans back momentarily, craning his neck to make sure there isn’t anyone around, “Alright, alright, love,” he soothes, coming back to face you, nodding his head to the empty space in front of his hair, below the table, “Not God, but I’ll give you what you want.” He teases.

Your breath catches in your throat as you look down at the floor beneath the desk, then back up at him before nodding, “Yes, sir.” You push yourself off your chair, sliding down beneath the desk.

“Goddammit,” you hear him groan above you, running his palms over his thighs as he parts them, making room for you, “Keep that up, love, might even give you extra credit.”

You rest your palms against the tops of his thighs as you move between his legs, getting comfortable on your knees, the old wooden floor cool against your skin, even through your black leggings. Finally, your eyes settle on the sizable bulge, covered by his dark jeans, and you can’t help the small whine that leaves your lips. Slowly, you move your hands up to the button of his pants, quickly popping it open and dragging the zipper down, smiling when Michael sighs above you as he pulls his sweater up out of the way, exposing the pale skin of his stomach. You let your eyes roam over him, warmth settling between your legs as you spot the dusting of light hair that starts beneath his belly button and leads downwards, disappearing under his plaid boxers.

You move closer to him, crowding in between his long legs, as you hook your fingers over the tops of his boxers, before finally looking up at him, “Can I…?” You ask, nodding to where his cock is straining against the fabric.

“Don’t be shy now, princess,” he groans, running a hand through your hair as he stares down at you, “Get on with it.”

You keep your eyes on his as you pull his boxers down, just enough to free his cock, watching the way his chest heaves as he lets out another relieved sigh. Finally, you tear your gaze away from his as you look at his cock, gasping in a breath as you do. As far as dicks go, Michaels is impressive, beautiful even – long and thick with veins running up the underside, leading up to a flushed, leaking tip.

You take him in your hand tentatively, squeezing him lightly around the base, your confidence growing when he grunts, breathing heavier. Finally, you lightly lick the tip, eyes sliding closed at the pleasant, salty taste of his pre-cum. You take the tip of him in your mouth, humming around him when his fingers tighten in your hair, lightly pushing on the back of your head, silently urging you to take more of him.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he roughly groans, managing to keep his voice low, “Knew that pretty fucking mouth was good for something.” He moves his hips, impatiently thrusting his cock an inch deeper into your mouth, breathily cursing under his breath.

You start bobbing your head up and down over his length, taking more and more of him into your mouth, more of his pre-cum leaking onto your tongue as you feel his dick throb and twitch in your hand. After a moment, you take a deep breath through your nose and remove your hand, resting it on his thigh, as you take him all the way to the base, your nose nestled in the short patch of hair there as you breathe in his heady scent, your eyes glazing over as you savor the feeling of him at the back of your throat.

“Jesus!” He grunts, louder than he meant to, keeping your head in place as he thrusts his hips up again, keeping you in place at the base of his cock, “Fuck, that’s it,” he praised lowly, your center throbbing, no doubt leaking onto the fabric of your leggings, “Look at me, wanna see your eyes while I fuck your throat.”

You whine, desperately blinking back tears as you look up at him, trying to keep your breathing even. You hold his gaze as you stick your tongue out, licking lower, down toward his balls, relishing the way his eyes roll back as you do, stomach muscles twitching as he continues thrusting his hips up into your mouth, soaking his boxers and jeans with your spit.

“Oh, fuck, that’s it,” he groans, looking down at you, his eyelids heavy, “God, yeah, cry on my cock love. Fuck, you look so pretty crying on my cock.” He mumbles, talking to himself more so than you.

His words send a shiver down your spine, adding to the heat in your center, and you whimper when he finally moves his hand from the back of your head, allowing you to come up for air. You do, with a gasp, thin strings of spit connecting your reddened lips with the flushed head of his cock. You keep your eyes on his as you wrap your lips around him once more, running your tongue along the thick vein on the underside before sucking at the swollen tip, relishing the way it makes him clench his jaw and gasp through his teeth as you stroke the rest of him with your hand.

Above you, he smirks again, gently running his hand through your hair but making no move to press your head down again. He cocks his head to the side, studying you, grinning at the far-off, foggy look in your eyes, “Not a thought in that pretty head, is there?” He asks, bringing his hand down and gently patting your cheek; the ghost of a slap making your thighs clench, making your head dizzy with need.

You nod around him, moving your head up and down along his length. You feel yourself throbbing with need, pulsing with heat; almost automatically, your hand starts to wander, a small sigh escaping you as your hand presses against your center through your leggings. You feel a warmth settle across your cheeks again as you feel your own wetness, leaking through the fabric just as you’d suspected. You whimper as you press down again, your eyes falling shut as you let your hips grind against your fingers, the wet fabric creating a delicious friction against your clit.

Which you get to feel for all of five seconds before Michael is suddenly yanking your head from his length, causing you to yelp as he tugs your hair. “Did I say you could touch your cunt?”

“N-no,” you whine pathetically, eyes watering from the harsh hold he has on your hair, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t think—“ You try to explain, only for him to cut you off with another harsh tug, making you mewl.

“That’s a pattern with you, isn’t it?” He asks, looking at you with a condescending smirk, studying you again, “You were being such a good girl earlier, what happened? Hm?” He questions, pushing his chair back enough to pull you out from under the table.

You get to your feet, suddenly feeling shy in front of him once again despite having his cock in your mouth mere moments ago. “I…got distracted.” You answer finally.

“I got distracted….who?” He asks, looking up at you expectantly over the rims of his glasses.

“I got distracted, sir,” you quickly correct yourself, eyes frantically scanning the still vacant floor of the library, “I’m sorry.”

“That’s much better, love,” he drawls, placing his hands on your hips, “Now, what could’ve been so fucking distracting, huh?” He starts moving his hands, slowly, toward your center, still looking up at you, his eyes questioning. You nod your head, just barely but enough for him to understand, and any hesitancy from him quickly disappeared. “Could it be this, I wonder?” He questions sardonically, suddenly cupping your heat in his large hand, the warmth of it nearly making your knees buckle, even through the thin fabric of your leggings. He hums, the sound low in his chest, when he feels how much you’ve soaked the fabric,

“Oh,” you whimper, grabbing at his shoulders to keep yourself balanced as his fingers continue to tease you, rubbing circles into your clit, “Oh my God, fuck.”

“Christ,” he breathes, staring up at you with dark eyes, “So fucking wet, love, holy hell. Did you get this way just from sucking my cock?”

“Yeah,” you whine, nodding your head desperately as you try to swallow all the small noises you want to make in your throat, your hips rutting against his hand, “Please, sir!”

“Oh, so now that dumb brain has no trouble remembering damn instructions, huh?” He taunts, a wicked grin on his face as his fingers rub your clit in smaller, harsher circles, making you see stars, “Need your wet little cunt played with to be able to do as you're told?”

You nod your head frantically, tears nearly spilling from your eyes at the zaps of pleasure radiating from you, your walls clenching around nothing. Just as you feel yourself about to tip over the edge, he stops, jerking his hand away from you with a knowing chuckle, “W-what?” You question, eyes blinking open, “I was so close!” You whine, nearly stamping your foot on the floor like a petulant child.

“Told you,” Michael shrugs, pulling you to sit in his lap, your back against his chest as he wraps his arms around you. His breath tickles the side of your neck and face when he speaks again, “You’re so fun to tease, love, can’t help myself.”

You wiggle in his grasp, making him groan as your ass grinds against his hard length, desperately trying to get your hands free to touch your pussy again, nearly out of your mind with need. “P-please, sir, please touch me!” You finally gasp out, knowing he won’t give in until you do.

“Now there’s a good girl,” he says, voice pleased and cocky as he plants kisses along the side of your neck, “Since you asked so nicely…” He says, letting go of one of your arms, letting you grasp the arm still wrapped around you with your hands, as his free hand skirts down your stomach to the top of your leggings, pausing long enough for you to nod again, before he finally touches you.

You whimper, jerking in his lap at the feel of his warm fingers directly on your heat for the first time, spreading your wet folds with a satisfied hum. His long fingers move down to your entrance, gathering some of the wetness there, “You’re so fucking wet,” he marvels, dragging his fingers up to your aching clit, “Fucking dripping on my fingers.” He murmurs in your ear, nipping at the side of your neck and sending tingles down your spine as he starts rubbing tight, wet circles against your bud.

You tilt your head back, resting it against his shoulder as your chest heaves. A moan leaves your mouth, louder than it should be, and Michaels free hand shoots up, wrapping around your mouth. “Gotta be quiet, love,” he whispers, not slowing down the movement of his fingers in the slightest, “Wouldn’t want someone to interrupt, hm? Make me stop again?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, whining desperately against his hand as he moves his fingers against you, the coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter. Your whole body lurches atop his, making him suck a breath in through his teeth as you move against his cock, still hard and hot as it presses against your lower back, when he moves his hand lower, plunging two fingers into your tight heat with no warning. “Fuck!” You yelp, muffled against his hand; tears leak from the corners of your eyes as he moves his fingers, scissoring them into you relentlessly as his thumb circles your clit.

“S’fucking tight,” he mumbles lowly, voice vibrating his chest against your back, “God, you’re tight.” He grunts between clenched teeth, repeatedly crooking his fingers inside you as he fucks his fingers in and out of your heat, letting out small, barely there groans every time your pussy squelches around his fingers as he punches muffled whines and whimpers from you. He crooks his fingers up suddenly in a way that makes you see stars as you writhe on his lap, your knees shooting up off the floor as you attempt to curl up on yourself, “That the spot?” He teases, relentlessly rubbing his fingers against it as his thumb quickens against your clit. He adds a third finger without warning, curling them up against that rough patch inside you as he bites down on your shoulder, muffling his own groan as he feels you clench down on his fingers.

“You gonna come?” He mumbles, grinning like a cheshire cat when you frantically nod your head, tears leaking onto the hand still wrapped tightly around your mouth. “Open your eyes,” he commands, not stopping his movements, “Want you to watch what I’m doing to you when you fucking cum.”

At the promise of finally getting to come, your eyes shoot open as you pick your head up off his shoulder, looking down the length of your body to where his hand disappears under your leggings. You practically come undone at the sight, watching as his hand moves against you through the dark fabric, maintaining a careful rhythm. “Michael, please!” You whine against his hand, desperately trying to keep your eyes open.

He chuckles lowly, clearly proud of how quickly he’s been able to reduce you into a begging mess, the sound reverberating off your back. “Fucking come,” he commands, doubling his efforts, “Soak my fucking hand, love.”

The coil in your stomach finally snaps and you sob, eyes snapping shut as your whole body clenches, shaking in his lap, as fireworks burst behind your eyelids. Your entire core clamps down so tight he has to fight to keep his fingers within you, muting the sounds of his groans against your neck and shoulder as he feels your cunt pulse against his fingers. He doesn’t let up, pressing incessantly against that spot within you as you come, until he finally gets what he wants – both of you groaning together, noises muffled, as a stream of fluid seems to erupt from your center, soaking his hand and the inside of your leggings, though you can’t think enough to care at the moment.

“Goddammit,” he grunts, finally removing his hand from your leggings, running his fingers through your folds one last time just to make you squirm. Suddenly, he’s lifting you off his lap enough to turn you around, maneuvering you to face him. You’re practically boneless in his lap as he lifts you just enough to pull your leggings down over your ass, pressing his bare cock against your still throbbing center when he sets you back down, “Gonna let me fuck you, love? Hm? Want me to make you go dumb around my cock?”

You nod your head weakly, not bothering to lift it from his shoulder as you straddle his lap. He doesn’t make you beg this time, too desperate to feel your wet heat around him, as he swiftly lifts you up again, just enough to align his length with your entrance.

Both of you moan as he lets you sit back down, his hard length disappearing into your warmth. He holds the back of your head, pressing your mouth against his neck to muffle your cries; you can feel his jaw clench with the effort of keeping his own muted. He fills you deliciously, thick cock pressed against every part of you, as your clit presses against the small thatch of hair above his length.

“Fuck,” he huffs, the word hissed between his teeth as he squeezes his eyes shut, savoring the way your pussy pulses around his length, the way you desperately mouth and lick at his neck, “God, knew you’d feel good.”

Somehow, that remark works it’s way through the fog in your brain, “Hm?” you hum against his neck, your hands coming up to tangle in his golden hair, “You thought about me?” You whimper, words whiny and breathy as he rocks you against him, spearing you on his length again and again, head kissing your cervix just enough to knock the air from your lungs every time he lowers you back down.

He sighs, as if just now realizing what he’d said, and nods, swallowing down a moan before he speaks, “‘Course I did,” he admits, grinding you down against him, his hips pressed against yours. “Looked so damn pretty in class,” he continues, “So cute all, fuck, all flushed and embarrassed every time you got asked a question.”

His admission makes you clench around him, heat flooding through your system as you process what he’d said. Your clit grinds against his body again, just as the head of his cock brushes against that spot in your center, and it’s like your brain has been whited out, all you can do is mewl against his neck as he rocks you up and down along his cock.

“Fuck, I feel this sweet cunt getting tight, love,” he says, breathing heavily as he gets closer to his own release, “Y’gonna come?”

“Yes!” You whimper, voice high-pitched and broken as you nod frantically against the skin of his neck, now wet with your spit and tears as you rock yourself against him, moving your clit against the hair at the base of his cock.

“Hold it,” he commands softly, more breathing than speaking. He chuckles when he hears you whine, loving the way you mewl for him like a soft little kitten, and the hand still holding your head against him strokes your hair, soothing you. “Want us to come together,” he huffs, cursing under his breath as he feels you grow somehow tighter around him, “Fuck, I’m close just hold on.” The hand on your hip tightens, grinding you tightly against him, groaning as he feels your center milking his cock, your walls clenching around him desperately.

“F-fuck, Michael,” you whine, breath hot against the column of his throat as you feel yourself tipping over, “Please! Please I can’t hold it, please!” You beg beautifully, weeping against his skin, trying so hard to keep it down to a whisper so you don’t draw attention, not this close to your release.

“Where, fuck,” he curses, pulling your head up to look in your eyes, the blue in his nearly swallowed by blackness, “Tell me where.” He pants, his voice urgent.

“Inside me!” You breathe, cunt clenching around him as you feel him twitch inside you.

He groans, forehead resting against your shoulder for a second as he tries to maintain control, both of his hands gripping your ass hard enough to leave bruises, “Are you s–”

“Yes!” You nod, resting your forehead against his when he picks his head back up, “‘M on the pill.” You reassure him as you keep nodding. The two of you move together for a few more seconds, wildly grinding together, before the coil in your stomach is finally wound too tight, “Michael, oh, fuck!”

“Fuck,” he gasps, seeming to get somehow thicker inside you, “Come for daddy, fuck, be good and come.” He commands, his own voice low and frenzied.

Hearing him call himself that does you in, and you shatter around him, walls gripping him tightly. You open your mouth, unable to control a loud moan, which he quickly hushes by pressing his lips against yours, licking into your mouth as he thrusts up into your center harshly a few times, each rise of his hips accompanied by a grunt into your waiting mouth as you mewl at the heat of his cum filling you up, extending your own release.

The two of you stay quiet for a moment, breathing heavily as you sweetly kiss, tiredly pressing your lips together. Finally, you pull away from him giggling shyly when you meet his eyes, blushing as you feel his length slowly softening inside you. “Getting shy on me now?” He teases, smiling at you as he gently plays with your hair.

You smile back at him for a second before suddenly coming to your senses and remembering where you are, “Shit,” you whisper, hopping up off his lap, “I cannot believe we just did that!” You quickly scan the floor with wide eyes, shoulders visibly relaxing when you still don’t see anyone.

“Wasn’t in my plan,” Michael starts, tucking his member back into his boxers and zipping up his jeans, “But I’m certainly not complaining.” He finishes, smirking at you before standing. He leans down, helping you pull up your leggings. He doesn’t miss the way you grimace when the damp, now unpleasantly cool, fabric presses against you. “Sorry,” he apologizes, gesturing to them, “I should’ve…controlled myself better with that one.” He finishes, awkwardly scratching at his chin.

You laugh quietly, trying to play it off although you’re dreading the half hour train ride back to your flat. That feeling doubles when you look down, eyes widening as you see the dark patch around your crotch, hardly visible on the dark fabric but enough that it makes you nervous, “Getting home is gonna be fun.” You joke, turning to begin gathering your things.

You’ve gotten your textbook put back into your backpack when you feel a tap on your shoulder; turning your head, you look wide-eyed when you see him sheepishly smiling at you, holding his red sweater out as he stands in a band t-shirt, “Here,” he says softly, waving the sweater at you, “You need it more than I do and it’s my fucking fault anyway.”

You blush, taking the sweater from him with a small thank you, tying it around your waist as he busies himself with picking up his things, before putting the rest of yours into your backpack as well, “Oh, you didn’t have to do that!” You tell him as you finish situating his sweater around you, satisfied that the stain is covered.

He huffs out a laugh, “You sucked my cock on the floor of a library,” he jokes, eyes sparkling with mischief yet again, “S’the least I could do.”

You laugh, playfully shoving at his shoulder as you put your backpack on. The floor is truly, blessedly, empty as the two of you leave and walk downstairs, not seeing anyone on the second floor either and only a few stragglers on the main floor at this hour on a Saturday evening. He pushes open one of the heavy wooden doors at the entrance, holding it open for you as you duck under his arm. The door thuds closed behind you as you both stand outside the library, the air cold now that the sun’s gone down.

“I really like them, that band,” you say, nodding to his shirt, “Their last album’s really good.”

“Oh!” He says, eyebrows raising in surprise, “You know them?” He asks, smiling when you nod again, “Their new album is probably my favorite too, actually.” The two of you stand in a comfortable silence for a second later before he notices you shiver as a breeze blows through the stoney courtyard. “D’you live close to campus?”

“Half hour on the train,” you shrug, pulling your phone out to check the time, “I should probably go soon if I’m gonna catch the next one…”

“You could come to mine?” He asks, his voice hopeful, “It’s only a walk from here, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes?”

Your eyes widen, having not expected his invitation, but you nod nonetheless, “If you’re sure,” he nods, “Then, yeah! That would be great.” You smile, walking beside him as you start heading in the direction of his flat.

“Would you maybe want to get lunch sometime?” He asks, glancing down at you.

“I would love that,” you smile, your hand brushing against his as you continue down the sidewalk, “I think I might need more tutoring, too…”

His hand catches yours, your fingers intertwining as he smirks, “Will you suck my cock every time?” He teases, grinning as you laugh, the sound echoing off the buildings and filtering into the night air.

Told you so. The voice in the back of your mind echos as you lean your head on Michael’s shoulder.

tagged lovelies: @schniiipsel @arcielee @darlingofvalyria @aemshaircare @imaegontatgaryenwife0 @valeskafics @beautbuck @watercolorskyy @marysucks-blog @fan-goddess @drakonflames @helloworldiamnotarobot

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nknoxe-n · 2 months

Text

█████ 60% PRINCESS

Synopsis: Your boyfriend of five years and professional football player, Rin Itoshi hasn't been the most intimate partner but out of nowhere he suddenly want to take your relationship further? Took him long enough, oh? he's never done this before, no worries you can teach him right?

Warnings: [NSFW MINORS DNI] [implied fem reader] [cunniligus] [p in v] [Rin is a virgin] [Taking virginity] [slight overstimulation] [cumming inside] [masturbation] [miscommunication] [reader has female genitailia] [reader calls Rin a princess as a nickname] [Rin eats it like a champ]

w.c 3.2k

You and Rin had been friends for five years, and dating for five as well, right after the blue lock programs U-20 match in a moment of weakness the two of you had messily talked over your friendship which consisted of him refusing to let himself apologize for the things he'd said to you when things had changed, when his dream had been crushed, and you were trying to console him and also admitting to your own faults of not trying to understand what was wrong, letting him go so easily.

Now it's not all sunshine and rainbows, there were so many times when you'd just considered leaving him because of something petty that had stemmed into a full-blown fight, but no matter what you always got through it. Rin was an enigma one that you were desperate to understand fully, sometimes you wished to just take a small peak into his brain and understand why he says or does certain things.

He was quiet but also so loud, small glances said so much, but you just couldn't understand, he read your mere expressions like a book while you're still struggling to determine what his blunt words mean because he's just so evasive. Most topics you could chalk up to the issue's he'd developed over years of resentment towards his own brother and lack of social interaction, but one thing you just couldn't a read on-

Before you could finish that thought you were roused from the peaceful half-nap you'd been taking, glossy eyes had been closed looking out the window of the bus you and Rin had taken to get home from his game instead of your car since it was currently under maintenance, it was a whole lot of bad luck and lack of options that lead you here.

"Wake up" He mumbled with a small look of embarrassment that was skilfully hidden behind an annoyed face as he lifted his head from your shoulder trying to not look at the small wet spot on your sweater sleeve.

"Hngh- I'm awake just got distracted" You could hear the small rasp in your voice from the lack of use, now looking at him trying not laugh remember how he'd had to dress to not be recognized.

He did not look his best in this 'disguise' that's for sure. A grey beanie covering his hair completely giving the impression he was bald along with a pair of shaded glasses to hide those mesmerizing eyes you loved so much. And your personal favourite, the tourist gift shop sweater he used to cover his clothes that read 'Proud Soccer Mom' in bold baby blue letters.

When the bus came to an abrupt halt, he stood up waiting for you to follow, no matter if you couldn't see his eyes behind the shades he was wearing, his gaze always seemed to follow every movement you made, as if he thought you'd disappear if he took his gaze off you.

Your body was still a little stiff and filled with a few aches while you slid off the grey faux leather seat with a hushed noise of discomfort. Your gaze trained on your boyfriends feet, following his footsteps while also making sure not to trip on anything on your way to the front of the bus.

The soft breeze against your face when the bus started off again had sobered you up from the sleep trying to drag you back into its warm embrace. You shuffled your hands into the pockets of the grey sweater you'd cherished ever since Rin got you the thing two years ago. He said it was bland and a stupid ask for your birthday, but the fabric was just so nice, and it was good to have casual everyday clothes that just meant you got to enjoy his gift more often.

He'd slung a hand around your shoulder, pulling you close. It was an affectionate gesture at surface level, but you also knew how tired he'd get after his games. Even if he won't admit it, you're pretty sure he's using you as a living crutch.

“I don't believe you weren't sleeping”

“Huh- why…?”

“Because you kept me awake with your snoring.” His tone was undeniably dry and flat, but you could tell he was only teasing.

“Oh my apologies sleeping beauty, did you not get your princess rest because of me?”

He didn't respond with his words, just huffing, and you could almost feel the roll of his eyes as he strung you along to your shared apartment. It was a simple little place, but you liked it, although it made you feel like a beige mom. It was worse with the lack of colour in your interior design, greys, and whites with a few accents of black painting your furniture and decor.

Rin closed the door behind the two of you before slipping off his shoes, watching you do the same. You couldn't help yourself from flopping onto the couch with a groan, stretching out your limbs with a few snaps and cracks. You didn't bother even speak or look to Rin; he had his routines and after games he had to shower soon as possible, or he might actually explode. He was extremely hygienic, which was oddly attractive because the bar for men is so unbelievable low.

Just as you expected, the water from the shower had started up and Rin was gone, which was the perfect opportunity for a nap. Relaxing so you'll have the emotional energy to deal with his sulking ass because his goals got blocked twice and god forbid he has a slight failure. Even if he did win in the end, Rin always had this habit of beating himself up after the game about what he could've done better. You have to convince him it's not because he's falling behind and didn't try hard enough. Football was his life, but so were you.

You hadn't even realized the drifting feeling consuming you when sleep had trapped you in its maw. The steady sound from the shower water lulling your eyes closed, the soft fabric of your sweater still clinging to your skin, even if it was unneeded.

When your vision finally came to it hadn't been too long, it was still light out and there was this pressure on your back, something dripping onto your face—what the hell?

You craned your neck to the side painfully to meet Rin's critical teal eyes as he rested half on top of your back and by your side against the couches back. His damp hair dripping on your neck as his eyes flickered back to the TV, which you now realized was on. You followed his gaze, to the horror movie you recognized as 'In The Tall Grass' it wasn't his favourite but you both liked it.

“You're getting me wet, Itoshi…?”

“Rin…”

“Ugh—habits sorry princess, you're getting me wet Rin” You mused playfully, it was a habit and old one at that. For your five years of friendship, he didn't let you call him by his first name until you started dating, so it was just what you remembered him as. But you also know how much it means to him, so you've tried to correct yourself.

“So what?”

“So dry your hair off, and then you can cuddle me”

“No.”

“Oh and why is that Rinnie, the pretty princess, too comfortable to get up, so instead you'll just use me as your rag?”

When you tried to get up, he grabbed onto you, large hands pulling your back into his chest, hanging onto your body like a koala. He clung onto you tighter when you squirmed now, making you painfully aware of the position he had you in. His arms tight around your waist with his face buried in the back of your neck and a long leg in between his own pushed up against your crotch. He was seemingly oblivious to how much this suddenly affected you.

“It's going to be my twenty-first birthday in a few weeks, what are you going to get me…?”

“Rin I'm not… m'not going to just tell you”

“Oh why not?” He inquired while shifting in a way that made something burn in the pit of your stomach.

“Because that ruins the surprise”

“I don't like surprises”

“Yeah well you—agh… Rin stop moving my god…” You could feel him pause at your words and after a few moments you also feel his breath hitching on the back of your neck, it seems he finally realized what he'd been doing.

It was frustrating being with Rin Itoshi, he was so difficult at times, and he could be a bit immature too, but he loved you, he cared about you and that's all that really mattered right? It isn't like he's been avoiding the topic or even idea of sex for the past five years. it's not like this is one of the few things he refuses to acknowledge. It's not like you've been secretly pent-up for those years unable to properly have a sex life, but honestly—It's not like you want to force him into something he doesn't want. You love him, and this isn't something he's comfortable with clearly, so you won't push it.

“Hey… can we talk about something…” Rin's voice had caught your attention easily, along with him releasing your waist and removing his leg so you could turn to face him.

“Always” You kept your response small and short while your eyes remained on his, curiosity flicking over them.

“I know we haven't… y'know” He mumbled, his usual hard gaze flickered away to look at the ceiling. Instead of you, a small dust of the softest pink you'll ever see covering his cheeks while a deeper colour bit the tips of his ears, but you just nodded waiting for him to continue.

“I… I love you and I'm sorry—”

“Don apologize Ito- Rin… you didn't do anything wrong” You cut him off with a firm tone leaving no room for argument

“Yeah whatever, I just…” He swallowed hard, his Adams apple bobbing as he did so “I want to have that kind of connection with you but… I don't know how or… or where to uhm even start?”

You listened intently, you'd rarely see him in this state. It was odd, but you didn't mind, his usual flat tone or short responses now overshadowed by nervousness and rambling. He was tense and still refused to meet your stare as he waited for you to say something.

“You can't learn without practice if you want we can take things slow… I can show you” You'd hand-picked those words from the one time he'd tried to get you to play football with him, which earned you a glare.

“Sorry I wanted to lighten the mood, but really if you want to try we can.”

“I do.”

“You may kiss the bride” You chimed in playfully, which earned an eye roll along with another glare before he suddenly pulled you in for a kiss.

You guys had kissed before, it was a common occurrence actually, but you never went past heated make out sessions, but this was different. The kiss didn't feel like it was just filled with usual affection but desperation, need, fear.

There was a soft nip at your bottom lip, and you opened your mouth knowing what he wanted, you allowed him to run his tongue along your lips before pushing past and exploring your mouth. It was not long before he pulled away panting with lidded eyes while you were a bit more composed.

“So what next?” He asked, a small teasing grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, but he kept it down.

“You're being serious, you want to do this right here—now?”

“Yes.”

“Rin…” You shifted on your side a bit closer to him, you were both facing each other, the tension between you thick and hot, “You need to take things slow, don't rush or else it won't feel good”.

You skated your fingers up and down his bare chest feeling over the soft pale skin of his sides, the pads of your fingers found the hemline of his grey sweatpants eyeing over the bulge in the fabric. It didn't take long before you had one hand ghosting over the area teasingly, which had caused Rin to grace your ears with a pitiful breathy whimper. It was stifled by his hand, but you were close enough to hear it.

“You wanna pull them down f'me, princess?”

He did not answer, just hastily shifting his hips up off the couch, shoving fabric down to his thighs. You realized he had not even bothered with boxers now that his hardened member was on full display now pressing against his abdomen. He was an average size, more long than thick, with a soft pink tip that almost reached his belly button.

“Rin, I want you to touch yourself…? Okay, get yourself ready before we do anything—I want you to be comfortable”

By now, Rin's entire face is flushed in a soft splash of colour. As he brings the same hand used to pull down his pants to grasp his throbbing cock, he slid his fingers up and down hesitantly, almost as if he was unsure of what to do.

“Is this… this good?” He muttered out from behind his hand that'd been actively hushing any soft noises he was making.

“Yeah you're doing so good baby, how do you feel?”

"m'fine-”

You could only shake your head as his hand sped up desperately, and his hand stuttered a few times as well, which caused a grin to tug at your lips. Although it was not one of mockery, you just liked seeing how worked up he was getting over simple touches.

“Okay enough baby, do you wanna go further?”

“Fuck, I can't wait anymore—just do it” He pulled his hand away from his painfully erect cock as he shifted onto his back while you had gotten on top of him.

You'd slipped your own pants down along with a pair of boxers you'd actually stolen from Rin, you were wet for him already after being pent-up for so long and barely touching yourself over the years.

You took his hand pulling it closer to your slit “I want you to touch me” his eyes flicked up to look at you in surprise, but he complied anyway.

You had tried your absolute hardest not to laugh, you knew it was his first time, but he was making that cute little face he does when he's focused on something small and just can't figure it out. The tip of his tongue poking out from the side of his mouth, eyes trained on your pussy while his fingers tried to get you off, but he's not the best with his hands.

“Baby no, like this” You circled your clit gently with your thumb while fingers caressed your tight hole before pulling away to let him try.

You could see the frustration in his expression, and it was only getting worse as time went on, of him struggling to get you off. You'd expected this, but what you didn't was when he pulled his hand away instead of asking for help again. He grabbed your waist firmly, tugging you up his chest with a strong pull, your cunt hovering over his mouth now.

“Rin what are you-”

He cut you off with a small annoyed snap, “I can't do it with my fingers…”

“Okay an-” Your sassy reply was cut off again, but this time with a moan as he pulled out down onto his face.

At first, he was a bit clumsy, but he started finding what spots exactly ripped noises out of you, he closed his eyes practically making out with your pussy, his nose brushing against your clit over and over again. Rin seemed almost hyperfocused like he did in games after struggling to get a goal. It was not long before an orgasm had been forced out of you, causing a sharp moan to get dragged out of your throat when he continued to lap at your juices. You braced your hands against the arm of the sofa weakly.

It was another minute of jerking from overstimulation before he finally pulled away, sliding you back down to straddle his waist with a guilty expression caused you'd had to tell him that it was enough.

“Did I do it wrong…?”

“Where did you learn to eat pussy like that, Rin—you did great”

“Can we… uhm”

“You want to fuck me now? Don't worry baby, I can last long enough for you to finish”.

Ho nodded, his face morphing into one of desperation again and almost if he was preparing to be hit when you lined him up with your slick entrance. As you slid down his length slowly he threw his head back with a groan not bothering to cover his mouth with a hand this time, he bucked his hips upwards on instinct pushing a whimper past his lips.

You weren't any better, sure he was slim, but you didn't know if you could take all of him with how long he was. You pressed your hands against his chest to brace yourself, almost tumbling onto him when he forced more of his length inside your gummy walls. It took a littler longer before your pussy lips made contact with his base now setting to adjust whispering soft praise for Rin even if he wasn't listening.

Eventually you started rolling your hips and moving in slow motions to ride his cock which only made more lewd noises come from him, he was twitching in pleasure, hands gripping the sofa to restrain himself. No matter how hard he tried though, his hands found their way up to your waist resting on the soft flesh, nails digging into your skin.

He's used his strength to set a more needy pace to get himself off, he was moaning and whimpering freely now without a care in the world, using you like a personal flesh light and chasing his own high. You'd been so confident going into this and even now you're still somewhat in control here, but no matter what you said about being able to last, your boyfriend's noises were getting you off in ways you couldn't imagine. He almost sounded like he was in pain from how pathetic he'd gotten along with tears clumping on those long eyelashes of his, and that brutal pace he'd set was getting you way too close, way too quick.

You were still trying to calm yourself and recover from your last orgasm when the familiar sparks of climax brushed against you again, another orgasm wracking your body, leaving you a train wreck. Fluids gushing out of you and dripping down his length as your walls clenched down hard with a small cry.

His hips stuttered as you lent down to capture his mouth, quickly devouring his moans along with muting your own when he started spilling into you, hot seed spurting into you, painting the gooey walls of your cunt white. He broke the kiss with a small gasp, feeling you collapse onto his chest, mumbling small 'I love you's' and 'I'm proud of you's' into his ear.

“I love you too…” He panted out in a breathy tone.

“I love you more princess”

#bllk #blue lock #x reader #itoshi rin #itoshi rin x reader #scenario fic #blue lock smut #bllk x reader #itoshi rin smut #rin itoshi #Rin eats it like a champ fr fr #blue lock rin #rin itoshi smut

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lilsmv1 · 5 months

Text

orange cat - OP81

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

Summary: What happens your neighbour's adorable orange cat starts to pay you daily visits?

Word count: 1k

London welcomed me with its perpetually gray skies and damp weather, a stark contrast to the sunny shores of California I had left behind. As I settled into my new apartment, I couldn't help but feel a pang of homesickness for the warmth of home.

For the first few weeks, I hardly saw my neighbours, lost in the shuffle of unpacking and adjusting to my new surroundings. But one persistent visitor soon made himself known – a vibrant orange cat that would perch itself on my windowsill, peering into my living room with curious eyes.

At first, I found it amusing, but as the days went by and the cat became a regular fixture, I grew concerned. Surely, someone must be missing their furry friend. So, I decided to take matters into my own hands.

I scribbled a quick note on a yellow post-it, explaining the situation and tucking it under my neighbor's door. "Your cat seems to be visiting me often," I wrote. "Just wanted to let you know in case you're worried."

Days passed, and I received no response. I wondered if my neighbor had even seen the note or if they simply didn't care about their wandering pet.

But then, one evening, there was a soft knock on my door.

Opening the door, I found myself face to face with a handsome young man, his expression sheepish yet friendly. He held a small box in his hands, the smell of freshly baked pastries wafting from within.

"Hey, sorry to bother you," he began, his accent unmistakably Australian. "I'm Oscar, your neighbor from next door. I just wanted to apologize for my cat bothering you. And, well, to say thank you for looking out for him."

I couldn't help but smile at his genuine demeanor. "No problem at all, your cat is lovely, I was simply worried you might wonder where he was" I replied, accepting the box of pastries. "I'm glad to finally meet you, Oscar" I replied, introducing myself as well.

"Do you maybe wanna come in? I can make us some tea or coffee and we could eat the pastries you brought?" I added.

"I would love that!" replied Oscar with a warm smile.

From that moment on, Oscar and I struck up an unexpected friendship. We bonded over our shared love for his cat and baked goods, finding comfort in each other in the big city of London, so far from our respective homes. Oscar told me all about his work as a Formula One driver, and I could not help but be in awe of how passionate he was. I, on the other end, told him about the teaching opportunity that got me to move here, and I would often tell him cute stories from my classroom.

As weeks turned into months, our friendship deepened. Oscar proved to be not only a generous neighbor but also a reliable friend. Whether it was helping me fix a leaky faucet or lending a hand with heavy groceries, he was always there when I needed him.

Our weekly movie nights, whenever Oscar wasn't out of the country, became a cherished tradition, a welcome break from our everyday lives. We'd take turns picking films, debating over classics and hidden gems late into the night.

But amidst the laughter and camaraderie, I couldn't ignore the growing feeling in my chest whenever I saw Oscar. He was kind, funny, and undeniably attractive – qualities that drew me in despite my best efforts to keep my distance.

One day, as I scrolled through Twitter during a lazy afternoon, I stumbled upon something that caught me off guard. Pictures of Oscar, smiling brightly alongside a beautiful girl with long blonde hair.

A pang of jealousy shot through me, surprising in its intensity. I realised then, with startling clarity, that my feelings for Oscar ran deeper than I had initially thought. But it was too late – I was now pretty sure he was already taken, and I had no right to interfere.

Unable to shake off my newfound jealousy, I began to distance myself from Oscar, avoiding our usual interactions and retreating into solitude. But my sudden coldness did not go unnoticed.

One evening, there was a sharp knock on my door, and when I opened it, there stood Oscar, his expression a mixture of frustration and concern.

"What's going on with you?" he demanded, his voice tinged with hurt. "You've been acting strange lately, and I want to know why."

"I'm not" I replied defensively.

"Come on, don't give me that bullshit" replied a rather angry Oscar. "You've been avoiding me. Have I done something?" he asked, his voice laced with vulnerability.

I hesitated, the weight of my emotions heavy in the air between us. But then, with a surge of courage, I found myself blurting out the truth.

"I... I think I'm in love with you, Oscar," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. "And seeing you with someone else... it hurts more than I thought it would."

For a moment, there was silence, the tension palpable. But then, to my surprise, Oscar stepped forward, his eyes burning with intensity.

"God, you can be so dense sometimes" he breathed

"Hum, excuse me?" I replied, clearly offended.

"The girl you're talking about, that's my new PR manager."

"Oh..."

"I thought I was being fairly obvious as to how I feel about you." he said softly, reaching out to cup my face in his hands.

And with that, he closed the distance between us, his lips meeting mine in a heated and passionate kiss, leaving me breathless.

#oscar piastri #op81 #op81 x reader #op81 imagine #op81 fluff #op81 fic #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fluff

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lilrainbowcloud · 7 months

Text

Pairing: Percy Jackson x Reader

Genre: Fluff, aged up Percy!

Word count: ~0.8k || masterlist

[18:23]

It was quaint in your dorm room. The only source of sound in your room came from your laptop, shuffling songs from your "i just want to be happy with you" playlist, the song 'Everyone Adores You' by Matt Maltese filled the air, and also the sound of your boyfriend's soft rhythmic breathing while his body was snuggled on yours.

It was a nice feeling. Having him close to you. Watching him sleep without the creases that would mar his forehead as another bad dream clouded his mind.

Not a worry(monster) in sight. It had been two months since your last encounter with one of the children of Echidna. Ruining your park date which ended up with singed clothes and smashed strawberries.

Sometimes you just can't catch a break can you?

But moments like this you'd cherish. A perfect vision of you both safe in bed, under the warm weighted blanket while snow falls outside like little white cotton candies. The contrast of temperature made you rubbed your socked feet together, careful as to not stir too much that would disturb the sweet sleeping boy on you.

As you continued reading a book for your English class, your fingers mindlessly twirl his sandy blond hair. Massaging his scalp as you do which you knew calmed him down and he loves it when do you it. You thought about what to have for dinner since the sun was going down.

Disturbing your thoughts on honey garlic chicken serve with rice, Percy's suddenly took in a deep breath, signalling him regaining conscious. Stretching his limbs as he let out a groan.

You smiled behind the book, still reading the last bit of line of chapter eleven.

After a moment, a finger lifted the bottom of your book. Bright blue eyes peaked from behind it, curtained by curls. You giggled as brushed his hair away from his eyes as you put the book down beside you.

"G'morning," he mumbled. Smiling as your fingers run through his hair.

"Morning," your replied, giggling as you watched him snuggled back into you. Arms wrapped around your torso from your position of resting your back on the headboard.

"I'm hungry, do you want to get dinner?" you asked, patting his back softly as if to put him back to sleep as you would a baby.

A groan, and a muffled mumble as he spoke into the folds of your sweater.

Okay.... So that's a no for going out to hunt for food. Pulling out your phone, you opened the food delivery app. Asking what he wants.

Lifting his head up to look at you with his still sleep clouded eyes, he replied, "What are you having?"

You replied with what you had thought earlier. Finger scrolling through the menu of your favourite restaurant.

Percy let his head fall again on your stomach. This boy is really exhausted.

"Do you want the same as me?" Glancing from below your phone screen, you watched as he nodded his head which tickled you a bit.

How was he breathing was beyond you. At least you saw his back rising and falling steadily. Need to keep an eye on that one.

Shaking your head at his antics, you ordered two sets with strawberry tea that you liked. Nice to have something hot during the cold weather.

Setting your phone down after checking out dinner, you sigh as you looked at your boyfriend. It was adorable really, watching him be at peace.

The impending danger that you both have to face everyday was tiring enough. Now, added with college classes, it was double the challenge. But you had the best of times with him.

Choosing to go to the same college together, even though you both resided in different dorm rooms but he would still crash at your place since you got the room all to yourself. The reason being your previous roommate had dropped out of her program because the professors was being such a "pain in the ass" as she said it.

Now you can say that Percy is your roommate.

College is nice. It's even nicer that you had a Percy Jackson by your side to fight monsters and exam papers together.

Just the life you had always wanted.

Or did you?

Lowering yourself so now you're back is against the pillow, you put am arm over your eyes while the other wrapped around Percy.

For a moment, you just want to enjoy every single peaceful second that you can with him.

Well, maybe just until dinner arrives. Because if he doesn't let you get up to get your honey garlic chicken, you're going to kick him off of you. Lovingly of course!

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson timestamps #percy #pjo #pjo tv show

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lowkeyremi · 6 months

Text

"I'M PREGNANT"

How they react when you tell them you're pregnant ! ft. gojo, geto, choso, toji, and nanami (fem reader)

content: no curse!au, fluff, slightly suggestive, mentions of infertility (choso), mentions of a miscarriage, established relationship (marriage + dating), children, families.

Gojo Satoru

Upon arriving home from another stressful day of work, Satoru looks around for his loving, beautiful, awesomest (his words not yours), girlfriend.

"UGHH I had a HORRIBLE day today. Baby, where are you so I can tell you all about it?!!" He takes note of how most of the lights are off and he can't smell dinner. Even on your worst work days you always make dinner, so there are two things Satoru can think of off the top of his head. A. You're out with friends and forgot to tell him or, B. Something is really wrong and you're hiding from him.

His stomach drops at the idea of option B, and as much as he'd like to eliminate that option it is very possible.

"[name]? Where are you?" He asks loud enough for you to hear it from your shared bathroom. You stare silently at the three positive pregnancy tests on the floor next to you. You know it's only a matter of time before he figures it out because he's used your real name instead of a pet name.

"If you're cheating on me then don't worry. I'll only kill the bastard who dared to make a move on you." If you weren't so stressed from your current situation you might have laughed at the fact that Satoru is a clueless idiot. Why would you cheat on him?

He starts walking deeper into the apartment. Into your room, you note, because you can hear his soft footsteps.

"Tell the coward to come out, babe. I bet he's in there with you fearing for his life right now." His voice sounds deadly but you know deep inside he's probably devastated thinking you've cheated on him.

"It's just me 'Toru. I.. I um. I need a minute." He shuffles outside of the door. If you're correct he's probably pressing his ear to the door to listen for another man's voice.

"I'm unlocking the door." He says, and fuck, you forgot that there's that little key at the top of the door to unlock it.

"Toru don't!" He unlocks the door pushing it open to reveal what's going on. It all happens too fast, you launch to try and close the door. In the process, one of the three tests gets kicked. His eyes draw to the moving object. They focus in on the test and he about falls to the ground.

"B-baby.. what are those?" The silence after his sentence is so loud that you could hear the busy city life outside of the bathroom window.

"You know what they are Satoru." He makes his way over to you embracing you so delicately like he'd break you if he squeezed any harder.

"Am I gonna be a daddy?" The question is whispered softly into your ear. Your tears fall landing on his shoulder.

"If you want to keep the baby, then yes." Ultimately it's not his choice, he knows that, but he also understands that this statement you've mentioned means you've already made your decision to keep the little baby forming inside of you.

"Fuck yeah I wanna keep it! Hope it looks like me so you have two adorably cute people to look at everyday. Also what the hell, my pull out game sucks!" He starts muttering to himself about how he could have sworn he hadn't cum inside of you recently.

All your anxiety subsides, and is replaced with faint annoyance when you roll your eyes.

"I'm having second thoughts." He doesn't realize you're joking because of how serious you look.

"Waittttttt I take it back!! The baby can look like you instead PLEASEEEEE PLEASEE KEEP IT." It's astonishing how your boyfriend can go from thinking you've cheated on him to being a sap in a matter of seconds.

Geto Suguru

"Sugu... can we go get some food?" This is the sixth night in a row you've asked this question. At first, Suguru just thought you had the munchies, but after observing you, he thinks there could be a different reason for your sudden change of behavior.

"It's 2:30 in the morning doll.." You sit up sleepily to check your phone and sure enough there are about two minutes until it's 2:30 am.

"How do you do that, Sugu?" He shrugs matching your previous actions.

"You seem to be having munchies every night? You getting enough to eat?" You nod meekly to answer his question. He suspects that you're pregnant but he's not sure how to bring it up.

"I have, but I dunno.. I've just been having these crazy food dreams that make me so hungry. I don't know where it's even coming from." He responds with a nod.

You take note of how he scratches the back of his neck, when he does that he's usually thinking.

"What's on your mind, Sugu?" He sighs inwardly as you get up out of bed to go make your latest craving: pork cutlet rice bowl with a fried egg on top. You didn't even really eat pork much but now you will destroy a pork cutlet bowl.

"I think you might be pregnant." You stop as soon as those words leave his mouth. The tension in the room rises as you try to find words to say.

"I- what? What makes you say that?"

"I mean think about it, last month I came inside of you like three or four times, which is enough to get you pregnant. On top of that you were testing out that new birth control since the other one was giving you weird side effects, and now you're craving pork. You don't even like pork." His reasoning makes since, but you're in denial right now.

"...That's a strong claim to make.... I mean what if it's just munchies?" He rubs his temple before getting out of the bed to join you in a hug.

"I'm not saying you are. I'm saying I think you are. If you are, you know I'll be there every step of the way with whatever decision you choose to make." He's so understanding, it's one of the many things you love about him.

For his sake you guys go out and buy a test for you to take. You took two of them, both showing a '+'.

"Well, it looks like you're gonna be a papa, Sugu." You say handing him the test, so he can see for himself.

"You're going to make an amazing mother, my love."

Kamo Choso

The both of you were clueless to the symptoms. He'd told you it's unlikely he'd ever get you pregnant because his sperm was tested, and he's very much infertile.

So, imagine his surprise when he sees a box of pregnancy tests under the bathroom sink while he's looking for a new tube of toothpaste.

You've already left for work so he'll wait for you to return to ask you about it.

He's excited, honestly. Choso has always wanted to start a little family with you, but he figured his infertility would stop that from happening. His doctor suggested adoption or a sperm donor. The two of you quickly ruled out the second option, it just didn't feel right to you guys.

The topic of adoption has been brought up here and there. You've both considered it deeply.

Choso can't sit still, he's off work today and the excitement within him will not fade away. All day long he's humming and practicing what he'll say to you when you get home. He even started looking at baby stuff.

When he hears the door unlock he's quick to act, greeting you at the door with kissing and smiles.

"Hey baby." His smile reaches his eyes, something it hasn't done in a little while.

"Hey, Cho. You seem to be in high spirits today."

"You're pregnant?" He blurts out the question without even thinking. Shit.. he was gonna try to ease into it.

"How'd you find out? Gosh did your stupid brother tell you? I was gonna surprise you!!" Confusion takes over your face when he gasps.

"You told Yuji before me? Baby.. how could you?" He's only half joking, he's a little bit sad, of course.

"I needed to tell someone!! I wanted to surprise you. I knew you were gonna be so excited." You pull him into a hug. He quickly reciprocates forgetting why he was even upset in the first place.

"Oh, I found out because the box of tests were under the sink."

"I probably should have hidden them better..."

Fushiguro Toji

Even though this is your second baby, telling him will never get any easier. When you'd told him about your first daughter he was indifferent about it. He'd go to great lengths to avoid you. Since you couldn't get through to him your only option was to call your step-son, Megumi.

He guessed that Toji was trying to figure out how to come to terms with being a father again. You had confronted your husband and he did admit to trying to understand the changes that would be made to your lives.

He said that his first daughter with you was his first and last child with you. You agreed with him because you only wanted a small little family. That was about three years ago. Here you are sitting on your bed looking at the test. Your daughter is playing on the floor with her toys.

"Mama, what wrong?" For her age she's quite perceptive. She must get that from Toji you think.

"Remember when you were telling Mama that you wanted a little sister or brother?" You'll break the news to her first. Her reaction will be the cuter and less stressful one.

"Mhm." Toji insisted on getting a bed frame that's somewhat high off the ground, so your little girl is standing right next to the bed waiting for you to pick her up.

Her deep green eyes stare deep into your soul as do your husband's eyes when he looks at you. She's sitting with her legs folded on your bed waiting for you to continue.

"Well.. you're going to have a little sibling." She springs up like a rocket, cheering in happiness.

"And when were you planning to tell me?" Your eyes quickly flicker over to the door frame which Toji is leaning against. There's a smug look on his face, nothing malice. Maybe he wants another one?

"Uh- Toji, baby, I was going to tell you soon. I just... Nami, my sweet girl? Can you go play with toys while mama and dad talk?" With ease she slides off your bed and walks out of your room.

Toji closes the door behind her ensuring she doesn't get nosy. "I didn't know how to tell you. You seemed really set on only having one.."

"I say stupid stuff all the time then change my mind. Do you really think I'd get mad at you for being pregnant? I'm the one who got you pregnant."

For once you don't know what to say.. you did think he'd be upset. Now that he's reassuring you all your anxiety washes away.

"I mean if it's another girl I might end it all." He's only joking, but you think another girl would be pretty funny.

"You're so stupid." He smirks at you, "You like it." Toji's not wrong, you do like it.

Nanami Kento

He could tell before you could. Everything started to add up when you complained about your back hurting, you hadn't mentioned period cramps in awhile and you seemed to be more clingy than Kento's ever seen you before.

It would make sense, he thinks. You'd gotten off of birth control last year and he stopped using condoms when you two got married. He wants kids more than you do, he believes. That want became more prominent after your first baby died three months into the pregnancy.

It would be cute to see you walk around with a round belly, complaining about little things like not being able to put your shoes on, or something of the sorts. He could once again experience that paternal feeling he felt awhile back.

"Honey, what're you daydreaming about now?" You ask joining him on the couch.

"Do you think you might be pregnant?" He asks suddenly taking you by surprise.

"I haven't really thought about it but it would make sense. The aches, cravings, yeah." If he were any normal man he'd get you a pregnancy test, but honey, this is Nanami Kento. You have a doctor's appointment scheduled for the next day.

When you arrive at your appointment with your husband the doctor has you pee in a little cup and he asks a bunch of boring but necessary questions.

On the drive home you notice Kento tapping the wheel to the tune of the song you're playing. He's never really liked your music tastes so he must really be excited.

"I can't wait to get the results." You nod in complete bliss. You're still trying to process the potential pregnancy. There was a time in the past; two months after you'd gotten off your birth control, you ended up pregnant but unfortunately your little baby passed away before being born.

There's hope in your heart that this baby is here to stay... a rainbow baby.

Within a few hours the doctor calls your husband telling him the results are positive. You're going to be a mother if this baby stays strong.

"We're going to be parents." He's so excited but he tries to contain his excitement.

"You're going to be a great daddy, Ken." He smiles dreamily at you. This is a dream come true to him. He couldn't think of anything better.

"I just know this is the one, Honey. We aren't going to lose this one." He tells you quietly with a little smile and you trust him. After all, Kento would never lie to you.

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educatedsimps · 4 months

Note

Aww I can't get over how amazing this blog is. Your fics are incredible, you're all so talented 🫶🏻 May I please request a Kenma x fem reader fic where we're married and have a little boy together who's like Kenma's double? I'm a sucker for cute domestic fluff and I just think you'd write husband and dad!Kenma perfectly. I hope that request is alright. Thank you so much! I hope you all have a lovely day ❤️

≪ back to fics masterlist

kozume kenma x f!reader

a/n: hi anonn thank you for sending in a request and we're so glad you like our works! i'm a sucker for cute domestic fluff too so i was pretty excited writing this request hehe, HOPE YOU LIKE IT :)

cw: domestic freaking fluff, reader's called mom, a lil surprise at the end

"Kaito! Time's up!" Your voice echoed down the hallway of your penthouse.

Sighing, you padded over to the game room with half a mind to throw the PS5 away for good. Giving the door two solid knocks, you opened the door to reveal your husband and son in the middle of a video game.

Kenma and Kaito were seated next to each other in their gaming chairs with their house slippers on the floor. With sock-clad feet, both of them had one leg tucked under them while the other leg was propped up on the armrest. They even wore matching Kodzuken hoodies and had the same hunch in their backs.

Kaito's cat-like eyes were laser focused on the screens in front of him (he got it from his dad), darting from point to point every second while his thumbs flew across the console in his hands. His concentration was unmatched and his avatar seemed to be holding up pretty well. Kenma, on the other hand, didn't have the same level of focus as his eight year old son - this level of the game was nothing to him.

Noticing your presence, your husband's gaze met yours and a small smile appeared on his face. The clacking of the console in his hands continued as he spoke, "Hey, babe, we're just finishing up the game."

"I'll be right there, Ma," came your son's monotone reply. You raised an eyebrow.

The clacking of the consoles continued and sound effects from the on-screen battle intensified.

"Kaito."

"Just ten more minutes, please? We're in the middle of a game- SHIT, DAD, HELP ME-"

"Kozume Kaito."

Kenma's eyes flitted over to you once again. Seeing your figure by the doorway with your arms crossed and eyes narrowed at the two of them, he chuckled knowingly before discreetly winking at you. You hummed in response.

So cute, Kenma thought.

Within seconds, he had absolutely destroyed their opponents and a congratulatory message popped up onscreen with confetti in the background. Kaito's eyes widened and he looked at his dad in awe. With matching smirks on their faces, Kenma and his little clone exchanged a swift handshake before your son hopped out of his chair and made his way towards you.

Raising your eyebrows, you looked at him expectantly. With a sheepish look on his face, he mumbled, "I know. School night. Sorry, Ma, I got carried away."

"I know you wanna be as amazing as your old man one day, but you still gotta get through school first, got it? After that, you can do whatever you wanna do. Now, listen to your mom, go brush your teeth and then it's straight to bed, okay?" came Kenma's voice. You nodded in agreement.

"Okay. Goodnight, dad," Kaito replied, sighing heavily. Approaching the door, he tiptoed to plant a kiss on your cheek and greeted you goodnight. You ruffled his hair in response.

Bending down, he placed a kiss on your baby bump and whispered, "G'night, lil sis. Once you're born, I'll play games with you till midnight everyday. I promise."

You watched as he shuffled off to the bathroom to do his business and you felt Kenma's warm hands wrap gently around your torso. The digital clock on the wall read 10:32pm. Rubbing your belly, your husband buried his face in the side of your neck.

The penthouse was now quiet except for the running of the faucet and the muffled sounds of Kaito brushing his teeth. Placing a hand over Kenma's, you stood there in silence for a while, soaking in the peacefulness.

The aggressive honk of a car on the streets below jolted you out of your thoughts.

"Babe, what time's your zoom meeting with the Russian investors?"

"Uh... 11pm," Kenma mumbled.

"Then you need to go get ready for it," You urged, lightly nudging his lean body off of you.

Kenma's phone buzzed in his pocket. Checking his notifications, he sighed, "Yeah, you're right. Yaku's already pestering me about it. He's not even the one presenting, he's just helping me translate stuff, but he seems more nervous than me."

Giggling, you gave him a peck on the lips before waddling over to the kitchen. "I'll have some instant ramen ready for you once you're done with it, okay?"

Kenma hummed, "Thanks, sunshine. I'll let you know once I'm done with the meeting. I love you."

"I love you too!" You called from down the hallway.

#educated.simps #lyssa.writes #haikyuu x reader #simps.write #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fluff #yves.edits #kozume kenma #kenma kozume #hq kenma #kenma x reader #kozume kenma x reader #kenma fluff #kenma x reader fluff

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hobicakess · 7 months

Text

PLAYING DANGEROUS | (one)

summary: It's been almost three years since Jack in the box was caught, and no one could make him talk. No one knew his story, and what drove him to become the monster he was today. That is until you're assigned your first story. What makes you so lucky?

rating: 18+ (I'm not your mother you're in control of what you consume)

pairings: Journalist!Reader x Criminal!JungHoseok x CEO!Kim Namjoon x Detective!MinYoongi.

warnings: warnings: no thoroughly edited, EW Ai , character death (nothing to cry about), black/plus sized coded reader, talks of murder, talks of torture, corporate evilness, violence, Mc reads hobi to filth, yandere characters, possessive/obsessive behavior, short hair namjoon (yes that's a warning), one maknae introduction, maknae helping cause chaos, cigarettes, Yoonie is an angry kitty this chapter, bratty mc, mc is kinda a bitch (a bad one at that), unhinged serial killer hobi (joker vibes tbh) , yoongi hates his job, namjoon loves his job (he gets to piss you off everyday) SMUT— nothing too crazy , choking, sub mc , missionary, mating press , man handling (yummy)

a/n: HEYYY omg this took me so long to write and it's just a little over 2k words... LMAO I suck i know, but we're getting there I pinkie promise. I really hope you all enjoy this and constructive criticism is welcome!!

TAGLIST: @sumzysworld @bbgniecyy @paramedicnerd004 @heartsbr0ken @grltwin @superbbananananana @secfir @darkuni63 @thisladysperspective @p34rluv @secfir @sarcastic-cookie @coffeedepressionsoup @ot7nem @italiekim @cynicalbitch666 @jalexd @whenthebeatdrop-beatdrop

2 MONTHS BEFORE JACKS ESCAPE

Kim multimedia station.

The place of business was always busy and there was never not anything to be done, Endless reports and stories in need of being written, the podcast teams always chattering about the hottest topics.

KMMs was a journalist's dream — your dream.

You were a known face around the company both online and in person. A pretty foreigner who was damn good at her job and that made you favored by the late CEO Kim. You were always hand picked by him to attend press conferences in his favor. He treated you kindly, allowing you into a large world of business pulling strings to get you the best stories helping you— a once broke freshly graduated English major climbing up in the world of reporting.

It's only been three months since CEO Kim passed away and the company was changing fast. You were grateful that you weren't a part of the many that were fired and replaced by new faces and AI, and you were now noticing how low the viewers were on podcasts, social media and blogs.

KMM was dying out very slowly and that meant you might go away with it. You were dedicated to your work, and the company that helped you become the person you were today.

And you were willing to do anything to not be forgotten.

Sleeping was not on the agenda right now.

A quick double tap to a cell phone showed an awfully bright screen reading 4:40 am. You had been lying in your bed mind racing while staring at your wall for the past hour and a half.

Jack in the box.

Rolling out the tangled bedsheets and arms you pull on a large T-shirt that'd been discarded a long with the other items of clothing on the floor shuffling towards the desk in the corner of your room. Laptop already open from your previous research when you pull out a pack of cigarettes from your drawer before plunging deep into the web. Your mouse clicks every site as your pen moved furiously taking in all the information you can about said serial killer.

“On May 14th, 2018 Serial Killer Jack In The Box was finally caught after a murdering spree in Seoul. The killings of ordinary outgoing individuals taken with a quick swipe of a knife and a long torture method.”

"Before his kills Jack likes to taunt his victim. He ironically sends them a Jack in the box to let them know they're next. The next few days said victim lives in constant fear, looking over their shoulder, leading the mostly known outgoing victim to slowly isolate themselves from loved ones in fear of them being hurt, eventually this leads to insomnia and in some cases hallucinations and histera. Then Jack disappears for a while making them think they're finally okay and he's gone until he wasn't."

The scoff that left your lips echoed through the quiet room, breathing out the nicotine smoke from your Cancer stick.

So Jack was an antisocial loser and took out his lack of social skills on people who could.

"No one knows of Jack's real identity. Police have reported that the man has lived many lives and has owned many faces for the past 11 years. Reporters have tried their hardest for the past 4 years to get a one on one interview with the man but unfortunately he refuses to talk only resorting to violence."

A reporter says he went for a handshake and left with two missing fingers.

Another says he watched the man bang his head on the wall hard enough to bleed when he asked the murderer's real name.

A broken arm??

“Fuck” you huff flicking the ash at the butt of your cigarette. You stare at the mugshot photos supplied at the end of the article. Dark wide eyes, shaggy black hair falling over his forehead, the piercings sticking from the bridge of his nose eyebrow and top lip.

The look definitely screams psycho but…. he was kinda hot. It took everything in you not to go and click the endless fanfiction that you stumbled upon.

A pair of warm lips press onto your shoulder causing you to jump. Turning to look over your shoulder at the shirtless sight of Kim Namjoon.

“We have to be up in four hours, baby, come back to bed.”

You hum into his embrace with a pout stubbing out the cigarette into the pink ashtray beside your computer. “Did you know Jack went through eight lawyers? Until one day he randomly called Kim Seokjin. That high profile guy from the law firm we're partnered with? they must know each other”

Though Namjoons attention was not on the words that were leaving your mouth. Hands wander all over your body while placing kisses on your neck, and cheeks.

“He literally bit the finger of the last reporter clean off. Like do you know how much force you have to put into that? I think he reads too much gothic liter—”

Cutting you off with a quick grab of your jaw turning your head to connect his plump lips to own. Pulling away with a cheeky dimpled smirk, “I’m not sure how I feel about you talking about another man.”

“Well you shouldn't feel any type of way because you aren't MY man.”

You squeal when you're lifted up from your chair and throw over a broad shoulder. He huffs when he throws you onto the memory foam comforter, your (his) shirt lifting up your thighs exposing your bare cunt. Immediately his big body was hovering over you as he slightly pressed his body weight onto you.

“Get off you dick” pushing and smacking his tan shoulders but that did nothing for you at this moment. “Well I'm trying to put it in you.”

He bullies your legs up over his shoulders as he taps his hard piece against the wetness between your thighs. “If something happens to me during this case I swear” choking on your words as he slowly but surely presses his thick head into your cunt.

“Fuck — may the man himself strike me down.”

Hand reaching to grip your throat smashing your lips together. Luckily your mind left the thoughts of the serial killer , the only thing on your mind right now was Namjoon and his ridiculously large cockm

It wasn't weird for you to obsess over your assignments to the point where it was all you thought about. Everyone does that.

Though this one you couldn't seem to finesse your way out of. Without the help of the late Kim you'd have to pull your own strings to get what you wanted and now that Namjoon was in charge he loved making your life harder.

“Y/n.”

Your head snaps up from your laptop hand stalling from moving on your notepad face to face with gorgeously pale Detective Min Yoongi.

“Yoonie” you smile, motioning for him to sit in front of you. He looked different from when you last saw him all the months ago, more tired and cat- like you guessed it was from the heavy responsibilities that came with the position as Chief of Seouls police department

“Did you just call to look at me?”

“Sorry it's just been . . a while” you push the large Iced Americano towards him as a peace offering. He gladly accepted it with an amused raise of an eyebrow, “You know I just wait for your call.”

“The phone works both ways” you internally wince , you sounded like an estranged father talking to his child.

“What do you want?” A frown spread across your face and lips, shutting your laptop. “I can't call an old friend for a friendly coffee date.”

You waited for his answer as he took his time generously drinking from his plastic cup. With a smack of his lips he sat the cup down leaning back with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You only call me ‘Yoonie’ when you want something” eyes scanning over the scatter of papers and notes taking up your side of the table.

“This must be serious”

Hands going to clasp under your chin you sigh, cutting the bullshit. “Three years ago you were the lead investigator on the Jack in the box case which brought you from rookie detective to Chief of police.”

“I was wondering if you could help old friend out tell me what you know about-”

“No.” He cuts you off with little to no thought.

“No? Why not? This isn't our first rodeo Min”

There were plenty of times Yoongi helped you with stories without a second thought. He'd give you case files, witnesses, and anything you needed but why not now?

“Anybody but him”

You scoffed at him, irritation rising in your body. “I need this story not anyone else.”

“Well I can't help you, princess.”

“That's bullshit!” Your voice raises causing a couple people around you to turn their attention towards the two of you. He stood up, chair scraping the floor, slamming a few dollars on the table. “Call me if you need anything else.”

Turning on his heel he leaves you sitting there in your slowly growing rage. You quickly hopped from your seat chasing after him, managing to catch up with his long strides. “Yoongi slow down dammit”

He twirls around grabbing onto you by your arm, “Who gave you this story.

“Namjoon he-” you whine as his grip tightens on your arm as his eyes slit. The angry red scar on his face makes his angry stare look even more intimidating. “You don't understand how dangerous Jack is. Just because he's behind bars doesn't mean he won't have people on the outside that will whack you for being a nosy reporter.”

He softens his hold, lifting his hand to rub your cold cheek. “If something happens to you. . .” He shakes his head letting you go.

“Sit this one out Y/N I don't want to see you in our precinct mortuary.” with that he walks away disappearing into the crowd.

You sniff doing the walk of shame back to the Café sitting back in your seat with your head in your hands

Detective Min Yoongi.

“Excuse me Ma’am” the blonde barista came over holding a box of blueberry doughnuts which happened to be your favorite. “It's on the house.. everyone saw your fight with your boyfriend, manager said this might help cheer you up.”

“Oh! Thank you but he wasn't my boyfriend, just a work colleague.” You tried to defend yourself but the sympathy in his eyes only grew so you accepted the treat with another thank you. “What is your name? I've never seen you here before.”

A soft brightens his pretty face, eyes scrunching slightly adding to the prettiness of his face. “Park Jimin, Ma’am.”

MEANWHILE

The buzz of the electrically wired door opening didn't alert the man that stayed deep in the corner of his cell. “Long time no see.”

“Why now?” the visitor asks, “After all this time you choose now.”

He giggled, the haunting sound bouncing off the walls. “Did you bring what I asked for”

The visitor threw the pictures and the box of cigarettes into the cell. “Answer my question.”

“It's been three longgg years.” He finally answered, moving from his corner to pick up the photos. “Tell me is she this gorgeous in person?”

“Just for her?”

“And I need to stretch my legs” he laughs louder this time the high pitched sound echoed even through the thick steel door that kept him locked in tight.

Jack was ready to play more games

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isa-loves-you · 11 months

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♡Michael Schmidt has a crush♡

You were a sophomore in college, even though you live in an apartment off campus you still visited your mom almost everyday to check on her and to eat.

One night while you were visiting your mom she brought up the people who lived a couple of houses down "the young man knocked on my door this morning, asking if I would or If i knew someone who can babysit his sister at night". The reason why she brought this up is because you were looking for a job, with being a college student you needed the money and nights were perfect since you only have three classes a week. "He's a cutie, he would be perfect for you" you mom called out as she walked into the other room "cute doesn't matter I just need a job".

It's been almost a month since you started watching abby. She was the best kid you have ever babysat for, and she loved you which made your job so much easier.

"Hey y/n, can I ask you a question" "what is it abs" you stopped coloring to look at her. "Will you marry Mike, so you can live here and I can see you everyday"

You were a bit taken back by the question, how did she know that you liked mike?. "I'm really flattered that you want to see me everyday, but I don't think your brother likes me like that" you flashed her a smile to ease the tension but she just shrugged her shoulders and went back to drawing.

Ever since you started watching abby you found yourself infatuated with Mike. He wasn't a very open person but for some reason mike would open up to you, your mom was right he was a cutie.

It was almost midnight until you heard keys jingle and the front door unlock. Mike threw his keys on the small table by the door before looking for you. "Hey I made peanut butter stir fry, do you want me to make you a plate" you asked while already making a B-line to the kitchen."oh no it's okay, I can get it myself you already do almost everything here" you turned to Mike grabbing his arm and pulling him to the table "oh please making a plate is not going to hurt me, now please sit down".

Mike sat down and watched you shuffle around the kitchen to make him some to eat. Mike would never admit to himself but he liked having you around, he loved that abby adored you, sometimes he thimks she likes you more than him. He really wouldn't know what he would do without you, you now became his reason to get up everyday, too look nice, and too be happy.

After mike ate he walked you to your car while talking to you "I get my paycheck tomorrow so would it be okay if you stopped by after class to pick it up?" "Yeah no problem I'll stop by around 6". You stod there justing looking into his eyes, even though Michael's face told a story of a hard life, his eyes showed compassion. You would be a fool to not fall in love with him.

Once you left, Mike got ready for bed. He took the pills he always takes, replayed the tape he always plays, and looked at the Nebraska poster he always falls asleep looking at, but something was different. You were the only thing he could think about before the sleeping pills kicked in.

His dream started out like it always does, his mom spills her coke and tells him to keep track of Garrett. As soon as he sees Garrett in the back of a strangers Cadillac he takes Chace after it. No matter how hard he runs, he can never catche up with the mysterious car.

Mike stops to put his hands on his knees and catches his breath. Giggling. He hears Giggling.

Mike looks back up to now see a field of grass. This wasn't his dream, this is different from his normal nightmares. There in the field stood a happy abby, laughing holding hands with a happier y/n. Mike feels his heart pick up speed.

"Mike!" Abby ran towards her big brother with open arms. Mike catches his sister while y/n walked twords the two of them. He flashes a smile in y/n's direction "I've missed you mike", you kiss his cheak and hug the siblings tight . If he didn't known that this was a dream he would have thought that he died and went to heaven.

"Mike Wake up, I'm hungry". Abby jumps up and down on her brothers bed until she hears him grown,"okay okay abby give me a minute". He stands up and makes his way to the bathroom while abby returns back to the living room where she watches her cartoons and color.

Once mike sets abbys plate in front of her she immediately digs in. "Abby would you be okay if I started to date someone?", the young girl replies without even thinking about it "only if its y/n, she likes you". Mike looked at his sister shocked "well who else would it be, because I like her too" he says trying to play it like he knew this whole time.

It was almost 8 when you entered the house and abby ran up to give you a hug. "Hey hun I'm sorry my class ran later, I tried to call but no one answered" Mike came out of abbys bedroom with a relieved yet anxious look on his face. "Abby go to your room, I need to talk to y/n about grown up stuff" she looks at you with big eye to try to get you to let her stay "it will only take one minute, I'll come in there to say goodnight before I go".

Abby walked to her room with a sad and betrayed face. "Um here's you're payment, you'll be here tomorrow right" "Yeah, couldn't miss it for the world.".There it was, your smile. Oh how he couldn't wait any longer once he seen your million dollar smile.

"I know this might be sudden and very out of line, but could we maybe go out sometime"

You were surprised. "Yeah that sounds great, I would love to" you were stumbling over your words a little bit from being flustered. You two stood there with awkward smiles on your face, if you weren't in his house you would have been screaming from happiness.

"I better go say goodnight to abby before I go it's getting late" you stepped closer to Mike to get to the bedroom. "Y/n '' before you could respond to him, he placed his hand on the back of your ear and placed his lips upon yours.

It felt like a thousand minutes passed by in those five seconds, and you didn't want it to end. It wouldn't have ended if a certain someone spoke up.

"Yay I was right, y/n does like you mike!"

#mike schmidt x reader #michael schmidt #mike schmidt #fnaf #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #Michael schmidt x you

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polyestercleaner · 3 months

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COME CLOSER. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

|Summary:Your first time having sex with joost, little does he know you've been hiding something from him.

|Content Warning⚠️:Angst turns to smut, SH scars, p in v, creampie, fingering if you squint

You're pushed against the door of your bedroom, his tounge was deep inside of your mouth, his hands roaming your waist, the ushanka on his head falling to the floor, a gentle thump. You whimper into his mouth as he moves from making out with you to sucking on the flesh on your neck, "joost.." you throw your head back, whimpering and moaning softly, "come here" joost pushes you towards the bed, your in a daze before realizing that what joost was trying to do is pull your pants down, you quickly shuffle, pulling your body away from the bed as you hold onto your pants, your breath hitching as you take sharp breaths, "W-what?" Joost sits up, his expression is confused, he's not mad, or upset, simply confused. "Whats wrong liefde?" You brush the hair that slightly covered your face away, breath still unsteady. "I can't. I don't think I'm ready, if you know.." he nods slowly, "listen I get that but it's been almost 9 months, and I wont pressure you, but you have to tell me if there's a reason you don't want this, I mean. Each time this happens you're always so nervous." A moment of silence fills the room, he pats the side of the bed, gesturing for you to sit. "Come sit schat" you sigh. You know you can't hide what's underneath what you wore everyday. "Whats wrong? Hm?" He pulls your hands into his, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into your palm. You felt your eyes begin to burn, your breath hitching, your lips part, your thoughts completely stop.

" I'm struggling with something." He nods, he's silent. He's waiting for what you're going to say, and that's that. The silence was enough for everything to seep out of you, everything you've been trying to hold together into both of your palms, seeped through and past your fingers. And you can't do anything but watch. You let your head fall forward, your eyes flying to your face, your tears are all out. And he's there watching it unfold. God he must think your pathetic.

Your quickly pulled into a hug, "now now. It's okay." You stiffened and shook in his embrace. What else could you do?

"I'm sorry. I'm..so sorry this isn't what you signed up for is it.?" Your voice breaks between words. You meant it. How could you let him love you knowing your body was too broken to ever be loved. That's what you thought. But that's not what he thought was it.? "This is what I signed up for okay? Just tell me what happened,I'll love you no matter what alright?" You nodded, you nodded harshly and you looked up at him, you've always wondered how he'd keep up a smile no matter what.

"I wanna show you something, promise you won't be upset?-promise you won't leave!"

You pulled away from him and you waited for an answer. You weren't gonna show him unless you knew he wasn't gonna run away or something. He nodded once again. And gently stroked your waist. "Go on pretty." You get up. Joost looks up at you, sat on the bed. His smile is soft, his facial expression is gentle. Like he's confident whatever your gonna show him wont make him think any less of you. You place a hand on your sweatpants, slipping them down slowly. His eyes go wide. You squint your eyes shut and stiffle in the cries you wanna let out. "Oh no,pretty come here" your quick to sit back down, his eyes are on your thighs. fingers stroking over your scars. You look at him. Your eyes are red. And the tears don't stop. They feel like they'll never stop. His face is calm. You can't read through him. "It's okay, it's okay." He pulls you into a hug, you don't cry. You don't do anything. You just sit there in eachothers arms. "Am I ugl-"

"Absolutely not." You nod, "it's fine if you think it's bad okay it's fi-"

"Your gorgeous okay? You want me to prove that to you?" You pull away slightly, you look up at him, your eyes are glossy, your tears are still there and he chooses to brush a thumb over them and wipe them away. "Your pretty, you'll always be pretty and just because you have scars dosent make you any less pretty. Okay liefde?" You nod. "Let me prove that to you, okay? You okay with that?" You let him push you down, he pulls off the last bit of your sweatpants off and rubs your thigh slowly. "So gorgeous." You let him place kisses on your thighs. Rather to be specific. On your scars. You groan. In that moment you realize that, your body is capable of being loved. No matter what. No matter what you had going on with it. There was always someone there to let you know that it's alright. Your breath hitched when you felt joosts warm breath on your pussy. His fingers playing with the fabric of your panties. But he dosent do anything, he pulls away and places a kiss on your stomach and up. And up. You whimper at the feeling of him fondling your breast. Holding your wrist with one arm before placing it next to your head. He gently let's go. You feel your cunt get wetter by the minute. Clenching around nothing. He takes one final look at your body in admiration before dropping his pants, his cock was hard. And the size never fails to impress you. You instinctively spread your legs for him. He slips the fabric of your panties to the side before rubbing your clit with his thumb. The most gentle circles you could ever experience. You throw your head back and whimper out his name. Your tears have dried off by now. And even if they were still there. It's probably tears of pure satisfaction and relief. You gently grip the sheets underneath you. He pulls your hips towards his cock. You shudder once you felt the tip graze your clit. The precum coating your sensitive bud. "Please joost" you throw a hand above your head. Arching your back and rolling your hips to gain any friction. "Fuck me." Your eyes are half lidded. You feel your lips quiver.

You sigh once you felt him push into you, his cock stretching you out."my god..doing so well for me arent you doll? I told you, you're perfect. Hm?" He hummed.You could've sworn you saw stars. He reaches down to stroke your face gently before bottoming out. You nod. Gesturing for him that he can move. But you could never adjust to his size. You cry out for him once he started really thrusting his cock inside of you. You pull him in, whimpering in his ear as he roughly fucks into you, his cock brushing over your cervix. You wrap your legs around his waist insisting to not let go as he continues pounding into your tight cunny. What more could you ask for. Joost loves you for what you are and is now fucking you right to make sure you remmeber that fact for 50 years ahead. Your thoughts completely spill out of your brain. The only thing you can register right now is how well joost is ruining your pussy right now. Not allowing you to think of anything else but his cock. "Joost. Fuck." You close your eyes tightly and grip on to his shirt. "Slow.." you feel your eyes burn despite them being closed. Your tears falling down again. "Ah!" You feel him slam his cock roughly inside of you. The sounds of your pussy squelching around him. Cum seeping out as your eyes roll to the back of your head you cum hard around his cock. But he dosent stop. He keeps pounding his cock inside of you. His groans and whimpers of your names slowing down as he finally cums inside of you. "So fucking good for.. me hm? Isn't that right liefde?" He groans out. His accent shedding through his words as he spills his cum deep inside of you. You can feel him nudging your cervix as his cum takes over your insides. You pant lightly. Catching your breath as you finally come back to your senses. You wipe the drool from your mouth. Eyes half lidded as he finally slips out of you. A trace of cum following along. He bends down and uses his fingers to stuff you full of his cum. "There..we go." He gets up. His iconic smile splattered on his face. "You good pretty?" You nod lightly. Gently getting up from the bed. You gasp once you felt joost scoop you into his arms. Carrying you as he makes his way to the bathroom. "Let's get ya cleaned ja?"..

|sorry if that was corny guys.... I tried😉🤞

#joost klein smut #free joost #joost klein #joostice #smoking #smut #jjk #x reader #long reads #reader insert #female hysteria #x fem!reader

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cheralith · 1 year

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to a heart's content — 「 single father!miguel o'hara x reader (part ii) 」

content warnings ; fem!reader, implied fem bodied!reader, use of she/her pronouns, reader wears dresses and makeup, mild violence mention

contains ; single father!miguel o'hara, boss!miguel o'hara, assistant!reader, angst, angst with some comfort, some fluff if you squint

word count ; 4.3k

notes ; at long last, here's the much waited part two! truly didn't expect the first part to blow up like it did, but i'm ever so grateful for all the support and the patience for those still here!

parts ; one two three (tba)

“Lyla, show me the nearest florist from here.”

“The nearest flower shop? That’s gonna be Business is Blooming on 27th Street—”

“27th Street?!” Miguel exclaims, his shock at the distance startling him and making his hands accidentally tighten the belt he was fixing much too tightly. He lets out a strangled choking sound and quickly loosens it before his legs lose oxygen, a feat that he’d hate to do just minutes prior to an event that could possibly change his life for the better. “That’s at least fifteen minutes away and on the opposite side of Clark! I’m already late, aren’t there any other ones closer?”

Lyla’s smaller holographic form pieces together on top of his full-body mirror that displays him in a formal-casual attire consisting of a cream turtleneck, black dress pants buckled with a coffee brown belt and topped altogether with a sepia overcoat that hadn’t seen the light of day since he bought it all those years ago. She puckers her grinning lips, a little amused at the rarity of Miguel in such an outfit and thinking he looks like a cup of coffee.

“Well, there’s always that crowded grocery store on Main?” she suggests as she examines her fingernails, instantly changing the pattern of them with a snap of her fingers. “But that’s gonna cost ya another twenty minutes and you’re already what—? Ten minutes late?”

Miguel fights off a groan at her teasing. “Lyla, I’m serious. Are there genuinely not any other ones around here? Any local ones? C’mon, this is Nueva York, there has to be at least one.”

“You could always try the marketplace. But then again, it’s Sunday so might not really be wise to take your chances,” Lyla shrugs.

Miguel even wonders if men these days still even have the dignity to give their partners flowers after realizing there is a significant lack of florists in today’s day and age. He wouldn’t be like them; flowers are a timeless gift everyone enjoys and he thinks if he can’t get it for you, he might as well not call himself a man at all.

His eyes go to spot the window in the reflection of the mirror where the sun is beginning to finally set and the city’s nightlife is rising from the dead. Buildings of all heights buster from every corner and the open road that eradicates much of the land dissolves a weary pit in his stomach, obviously annoyed at the many obstacles that block his path. Miguel takes another glance at the clock, the minute hand inching closer and closer and closer to 6:00. The initial plans were to leave the apartment by 5:30, acquire some gifts for you and then travel to the restaurant by 6:00, but seeing as how he’s still trapped in his abode, Miguel thinks that he can only do so much.

But he realizes that’s for Miguel O’Hara, renowned Alchemax geneticist and full-time father. Miguel O’Hara, an everyday citizen, couldn’t possibly crunch so much in such little time.

For Spider-Man, however…

Lyla eyes him suspiciously and purses her lips when Miguel looks at his wrists and then at the window again. “I don’t think that’s wise, Miguel.”

“What’s wise?” he replies coyly, going to quickly shovel off his clothes to replace them with a familiar blue and red attire.

“I know whatcha gonna do,” Lyla says and glitches around him as he searches for his suit. “But it’s not gonna end well, I’m tellin’ ya right now, mister!”

Miguel shakes her caution off, too occupied with shuffling on his superhero suit onto his body before neatly tucking his other outfit into his hammerspaced pocket. “It’ll be quick, I swear. I just need to get her some flowers and then I’ll be on my way. Lock up the house for me, yeah?”

“You’re not gonna make it,” Lyla shakes her head. “Just ditch the flowers and get her something on the way instead.”

But the last of Lyla’s words don’t make it to Miguel’s ears, as he’s already slinging and gliding himself out of the window and toward the given address of the florist. Lyla can only watch in artificial disdain as Miguel’s figure grows smaller and smaller through the passing seconds. She sighs, rolling her eyes as she flickers off the apartment lights before disintegrating.

The roar of the city life grows louder and louder the more Miguel comes closer to the center of it where the flower shop lays. People gather in clusters bustling about all over, making him a little weary of himself as he stares at them from above a high tower. He’s not exactly an ordinary passerby that can easily maneuver their way through so easily—especially not with this getup. Spider-Man is also a name that rather became widespread across the city of Nueva York, meaning that even if one person were to see the flash of blue and red, he’s up for trouble.

The evildoers tonight seem to be at cease, thankfully. He hasn’t heard of any malicious plotting or future events that will take place today by any of the supervillains that hunt him down like deer recently. Then again, there’s always smaller crimes still waiting to be stopped, but he’s sure the cops will come around for those. Miguel convinces himself it’ll just be a one time thing.

Yet when the familiar song of police sirens blare through the city, he twitches at the thought of leaving such miscreants in the hands of police when he’s sure he can take them down like an army of ten men.

But the police have ten men on them, so truly he can just leave it alone, right? He’s essentially in front of the flower shop that’s seated below an apartment building. All he has to do is just jump down, get the flowers, and leave in the nick of time. He doesn’t have time to dilly dally with low-rated criminals.

Then again, when he spots the gang of robbers in two white vans speeding down the road at a blistering speed without any caution for pedestrians, Miguel grits his teeth. On their tail is a rally of five police cars that keep gaining and losing them by the second and Miguel isn’t sure whether the irritation was from his indecisiveness or the fact that if he didn’t do anything, there will be consequences.

Perhaps do both to ease his mind? No, he can’t do that. You’re most likely on your way to the restaurant, all dolled up and fresh-faced. He still would need the time to fix himself up in some dingy public bathroom. A cop car that’s been hiding in the corner joins the chase—that’s surely more than enough to take care of them?

Miguel’s eyes go back and forth... back and forth between the two sights. Anxiety is doing little to help his situation and a mist of sweat begins to form on his skin the more the seconds tick by, making the innermost part of his suit much more uncomfortable and moist. A clock hangs by an awning nearby that displays the haunting time of 6:03 PM, just twenty-seven minutes shy of the designated 6:30 meeting time.

He glances one more time at the chase, swallowing a thick lump in his throat when he sees the vans hurdle full speed toward an open street of walking pedestrians, all ignorant of the fact to what beholds them in just mere seconds.

Miguel curses under his breath.

It’ll only be this for today, no more after that.

Fatigued eyes go to watch as the last people leave the restaurant, leaving you isolated in your little corner both embarrassed and hungry due to the heavy lack of food served on your platter for tonight. The other waiters begin to scrub the tables and booths free of crumbs and topple the chairs onto them, indicating that tonight has drawn to its close. You think you’ve memorized the entirety of the menu at this point, considering it’s really all you’ve been averting your eyes towards to avoid the looks of others.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you can see the waiters and waitresses pitifully gossiping about you and a heat flashes onto your face by how incredibly desolate you’ve looked in the past three hours. Internally, you thank them for their patience and how they’ve tolerated your excuses for your date’s tardiness-turned-absence, knowing that it must be a pain to look after someone that hadn’t even ordered anything besides water for the time she had been here.

You don’t even wait for your waitress to come to your table for the nth time tonight, going by your own initiative to pack up your things. Your phone is still devoid of any notifications from Miguel, as well, even after the four calls, occasional text checkups, and last minute voicemailed question of a needed rescheduling if he so desired.

What remains is just a grayed out Read, 7:47 PM underneath all the text bubbles.

“I… sincerely apologize if I loitered at all,” you murmur with your head half-down to the young host who shuffles the menus back into the lectern. “This was truly the last thing that I had expected from him…”

You instantly take back that statement the moment it leaves your lips. If anything, you should’ve known that this would’ve happened. Foolish you were—you’ve been with Miguel for the past three years, this was everyday behavior for him. You suppose this is how Gabriella must feel constantly and another heartache pits itself within you at the shared feeling.

The host shakes his head sympathetically. “You wouldn’t be our first case, I’m sure you didn’t have any ill intent. If anything, I’m the one sorry that he made you wait that long,” he replies with evident pity. “Whoever he is, he must be a dick for leaving such a pretty thing like you alone all night, ma’am.”

“Oh, he’s—” you fall short on your words, not even having the energy to sorely defend Miguel’s name. “Never mind…” you mutter.

“Do you need a cab?” asks the host, “Well actually, I’m about to clock out for tonight. I can drive you home, if you want. It’s the least I can do for you after tonight.”

You’re about to reply to him to turn down the offer, as you suspect he’s the type of guy to use women in these situations to his advantage, but the doors suddenly burst open to reveal the one and only in a hazy state and what seems to… flowers clutched in his hands? The petals, however, are corrugated and some have even completely drooped down from their stem. The paper that is supposed to guard them is wrinkled and torn at the corners. Almost all of the bouquet is wilted, much like your own composure for tonight.

Miguel isn’t much better. Hair and clothes a little damp, he’s frazzled and evidently guilty, as his face pales when he sees your contrasting appearance. You’re adorned in an a-lined, half-sleeved royal blue dress that made you look so regal in comparison to your daily white blouse-black pants outfit that he's seen too much of. Not to mention additional details of your styled hair and accessories just brought out the best of your beauty that was wasted on essentially nothing this evening.

“Mr. O’Hara…” you breathe when he passes through the door. The first thing that you notice automatically when his face properly comes into view is a sharply jagged, yet thin cut on the side of his cheek. “Did someth—”

“(Y/N), I’m so… so sorry,” he chokes out. “Something c-came up at work and they asked me to help them out… I’m sorry, I know I should’ve said no, but they were kind of on my ass about it and I got so caught up with it, so I wasn’t able to text you and—”

“She waited three hours,” the host drones and juts his thumb toward the dining area where all the chairs are laid atop the tables. Its lights flicker out, leaving only the foyer and smaller hallways lit so dismally in the night. “Until closing. She didn’t order anything in the meantime, so not only you left her alone tonight, you left her alone and hungry.”

“Hey listen, bud,” Miguel snaps at the host. He points a finger at him with irate in his eyes. “Not your business, so stay out of it.”

The host scoffs with a smirk on his face. “Not the first time I’ve heard that and certainly not the first time I’ve seen this happen. Guys like you always—”

You raise a hand to stop their bickering, afraid of what might happen if things escalate further as you really didn’t desire to do anything more than just sleep off your feelings. Both men stop and turn to look at you with concern on their faces.

“Do you still need that ride home?”

“Are you still hungry?”

A frustrated head shake finally silences the both of them.

“I’m fine, thank you for the offer, though,” you say quietly to the host. You turn to Miguel, who swallows at the sight of your tired eyes. “May we talk outside? I’d hate to stay here any longer than I need to.”

Miguel attempts to excuse himself one more time, but when you begin to pace yourself toward the door without waiting for him, he realizes he can’t exactly make any more decisions of his own any more this evening. Not after choosing his heroic duties again and again for tonight instead of tending to you.

The moon and stars tonight have made their presence with the special guest of light rain coming in for a visit. The whisper of a drizzle ghosts itself on your goosebumps skin and the chill of a wind nips at your flesh.

Miguel is quick to follow you. “I’m really sorry again, (Y/N),” he utters so softly that it makes your heart ache with familiarity. It’s the same tone of voice he’s used with Gabriella when at times, he wasn’t able to make it to her events or practices like he promised. “Are you still hungry by any chance? I know a good 24/7 diner that’s pretty close here.”

Without turning around, you politely shake your head and begin to search for any cabs coming your way. “I’ll be okay. I think I have some leftovers in the fridge that can suffice.”

The thought of you eating alone like he did on a night that you shouldn’t be sends shivers of guilt down Miguel’s spine. He curses himself at his past actions—deciding that it was stupid to catch those robbers who didn’t even put up much of a fight, to stop that gang brawl that was happening on the corner of 5th that was resolved the moment the elderly shopkeeper began to yell, to help that old lady that was certainly taking her sweet time to cross the street. They were such unbelievably mild crimes that he didn’t need to attend to, but did anyway even with the thought of you in mind.

Perhaps he should’ve had more faith in technology, because he’s sure Lyla was going to have much fun taunting him for the rest of the week.

“You can keep the flowers, too,” you say softly when a cab begins to pull up. “I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t think I have a vase to store them in unfortunately.”

Miguel’s grip on the dismal bouquet tightens, not even trying to fight your refusal as you get into a cab. He stops the door from closing just as you’re about to, trying one last time to make up for his actions.

“At least let me pay for your cab,” Miguel whispers.

You know he’s sorry. You can see in his eyes the familiar gleam of woe that he’s given to his daughter. Your eyes go to flicker at the cut again, but you know that if you ask, he’s sure to give one his many excuses because it isn’t the first time he’s shown up with an injury before. And you don’t want to put yourself through that wall of verbal familiarity.

With sorrow gentleness, you pry his fingers off the edge of the car and shut it, putting a physical barrier between you and Miguel. The eyes of the driver goes to pitifully glance at your state before beginning to rev up the engine.

You don’t even have the courage to share a glance towards Miguel one last time before the cab begins to drive off—your wallow of disappointment is deep enough as it is.

The rest of the week is agonizingly slow; Miguel dares to say it’s torturous, even.

He’s thankful you’re still acknowledging his existence and talking with him, but your conversations lack the usual warmth and gentle playfulness they often had. It was already lonely enough dealing with the lack of a third person like him at home, but the feeling of isolation felt even more scarring this time because when he came home late after your babysitting session, you didn’t bother with small talk with him, the only thing that made him realize he didn't have to do everything by himself alone.

You didn’t ask how the late shift was, how were the bosses treating him, if he was getting enough rest… no, you only kept him updated on his daughter's schoolwork and any future events regarding her and her only. Your words never included him or you, only finishing off with a goodbye and have a nice night.

At least you were still kind enough to fix him the usual leftovers.

Work itself wasn’t much better. Conversations were brief and the lab in which you two worked privately was filled with silence that was only broken with the occasional demands and directions of lab work. Sometimes a forced cough would sneak its way through Miguel’s lips if the silence began to disturb him too much. He attempted to make some at the beginning, asking how your day was and whether your father was on your tail again, but he was met with short, sharp responses.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Perhaps.”

“I’m not sure.”

Never have such words been so agonizing before. Ironic that they are because Miguel often hated it when people rambled and preferred it when conversations got to the point. He supposes, though, you get to the point too fast for his liking nowadays.

When he tried bringing up an explanation for Sunday’s events, you’d quickly shut it down as tenderly as possible, saying things along the lines of “It’s alright, your schedule is hectic. I can understand.” or “I just hope your work didn’t give you too much trouble.” You’re so polite about it that it hurts him. Miguel would much rather have you lash out and insult him than have you soften the landing that does barely anything to ease him because it feels like you’ve put on that mask you put in front of others—professional and orderly—and Miguel didn’t want to be seen as just a mere coworker, let alone your boss, to you.

His pride bites at his ankles. Lies coming out of his lips too regularly, he had to fib to Gabriella the morning after her sleepover when she asked about the date that you had fallen sick and weren’t able to make it. The disappointment on her face mimicked yours too eerily. She asked him if they were going to reschedule it. Miguel could only shrug his shoulders—he wasn’t even sure if you wanted anything to do with him after that event.

At least nothing changed with you and his daughter. He’d still home to an apartment with you helping with homework or her helping with dinner or tucking her into bed. That’s all he could ask for right now.

Miguel still had the chance to redeem himself this week. There was the annual banquet held at a banquet hall to celebrate the yearly achievements Alchemax and those associated had accomplished, as well as discussing major plans for the future. It was a boring, yet formal event used for connections and idle chatter, something Miguel usually didn’t look forward to. Lyla suggested to him to convince you to go and that Gabriella would just have a one-time babysitter while you got to enjoy (or in your case, put up) with his company as he redeemed himself best as possible. You’re not one to talk with others you’ve never met, so he knew that you would most likely stick by his side for a sense of familiarity.

It took a while, but you murmured you’d go under your breath to shake him off your tail. Miguel was elated, but it was quickly shut down halfheartedly by the reminder that you were still somewhat upset by Sunday’s incident, saying you’d take a cab to the banquet instead of driving with him like he offered.

No matter, as long as you were there by his side.

Miguel made sure that this time, he’d be out the door much earlier than the last, promising to never keep you waiting longer than a minute. A text on his phone pings that you’re near the back entrance, where the parking lot was so it’d be easier to find you. He swerves a little too harshly into the lot—either from nervousness or excitement or both—at the mention and had spotted you near the staircase adorned in a floor-length blushed, ivory pink halter gown with luminescent tulle, making you look like the human embodiment of an ocean pearl.

His eyes are so fixed on you that he didn’t realize he almost knocked himself straight into an oncoming BMW. The owner, a crabby old man he recognizes from human resources, swears and honks at him, making Miguel hide his face before hurriedly parking a little more safely.

When he approaches you, he drinks you in your full glory. Everything about you is so fresh… so exhilarating. You’ve done your hair with a couple of clips this time, with more subtle jewelry this time. Your makeup looks tidy and perfect and Miguel enjoys the way it emphasizes your best features instead of morphing them. If only he was wiser on Sunday, he would’ve been able to savor a different version of you in blue.

Nevertheless, you still manage to take his breath away with just a simple breath like you always have. It’s just that it was only recently had Miguel realized you had that ability and he’d be alright experiencing it again and again if it was with you.

“Mr. O’Hara?” you say and wave a soft wave in front of his face to break his trance. Somehow, you begin to grow self-conscious. Perhaps he didn’t like it? Maybe it was too revealing… the slit at the halter neckline did somewhat peek at your cleavage and you weren’t used to baring your shoulders out. “I-is everything okay?”

Miguel blinks a couple of times. His surroundings finally come into focus like your figure, making him realize how long he had been staring. “Apologies. I… never got to tell you this on Sunday, but I hope to do it now, (Y/N)... ” he clears his throat and straightens his posture, remembering to act everything out as practiced, before softly whispering with evident fondness that, “You look beautiful, tonight.”

A spark of surprise shocks your features for a brief moment, before your usual modesty is displayed again. Eye contact is broken, for you can’t fathom the thought of someone like Miguel O’Hara, favored in every possible way, would be complimenting you so casually. “Oh um. Thank you,” you choke out halfheartedly.

Miguel leans over slightly over your figure and tucks a lock of stray hair behind your ear. If he wanted to truly make up for what happened, he was going to have to go all out tonight, even if that meant rocketing out of his comfort zone. He just barely catches you hitching a breath at the semi-intimate of physical contact as he tries his best to hide his own when he murmurs in your ear again.

“I’m not saying it out of manners, I’m saying it factually,” he mumbles, eyeing the passersby that stare in wonder at you. Some ego swells inside of him at the jealous looks that are given to him. “You’ve bewitched me and many others already.”

You stray your gaze away at him with your hands fiddling at the skirt of your dress. “You didn’t have to, but thank you for the dress, by the way,” you murmur timidly. “I’ve never heard of a brand called Lyla, but I admit, this dress of theirs is rather nice.”

Miguel furrows his brows at the mention before Lyla briefly appears on your head, giving him an enthusiastic thumbs up before disappearing. It doesn’t take Miguel long to realize that Lyla had shipped something so pristine to you without his permission, though he supposes that she had done him and you a favor given how majestic you look tonight.

He lets out a soft breath of a chuckle before shaking his head. Maybe he’ll give her some upgrades in return.

You turn your head behind you, not knowing what he was looking at. “Is something wrong? Is there something in my hair?”

“No, no. Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts…” Miguel interjects before offering his arm to you. “We should get going. I’d hate for a dress like this to go to waste for only my eyes.”

Internally, Miguel wanted to be selfish. He wanted to be greedy and have you all for himself, savor your every move tonight, have you and him be the only ones in this place. He didn’t want anyone to look towards your direction and have you look at anyone else besides him. A little venomous thought of people not realizing you had so much more potential than they realized embeds in himself, and that their awe for tonight was too artificial. He wanted more and to give you more, but then again, he’s still Spider-Man at the end of the day, the impossible man that somehow does it all and faces the consequences head on. He can only offer a regular day citizen like you so much.

But for now, he’ll make do with what he can. Not as Spider-Man this time, but as Miguel O’Hara.

a/n ; hi yeah don't panic, there'll be a part three lmfao i lied lolol. most likely it'll be the last part to this little series i've got going, too, since i think making it a fully fledged series would kind of lead some things astray for me. that doesn't mean the end of the miggy o'hare writings, however! still will most definitely attempt to write for him bc bro's GLORIOUS

thank you all for the patience for part ii, and i hope to see that part iii comes out asap! i'll give updates for it as always, but in the meantime, thank you for reading and likes/comments/reblogs are always noticed and infinitely appreciated ( ˘ ³˘) ♡ !

taglist ; @secretlyrexlapis @urbimom @p1nkliquor @julesclues @averagefloydlover @apurpletrashcan @toofsfairys @raeisthebae (for those with strikethroughs, i'm not able to tag you for some reason :(!)

#spider man: across the spider verse #across the spider verse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara smut #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #atsv miguel #across the spider verse x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #fem!reader

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