#he feel so tiny and and polite
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*clasps your shoulders gently and looks you straight in the eye*
Keferon. Please read Ninth by Kyn on AO3. I think you would love it very much. It has a large chapter count, but don't be intimidated, it's very easy to get into. It is currently unfinished, but is being updated regularly.
You are the seventh person that recommended this fic to me so ahahahaha yeah
Iâm doing great Help I hate some parts of it but I love the other parts Iâm spinning in the blender
âŠ..I made the moodboardâŠ.
#chapter 37#of 120 or something#I must be like 90k words in haha#large word count is not an intimidation. Itâs an invitation haha#I love the fics that I canât read in just one hour:)#I gotta say I donât enjoy the concept of making robots into organic life#itâs just my preference#seeing them as humans or animals or whatever feels so fucking wrong#the concept itself drives me off#like. Strongly#But at the same time. This fic isnât about them being âhaha cute organicsâ#itâs âoh god. I was turned into something Iâm notâ#instead of teeheee theyâre fluffy#itâs please free me from this fucking nightmare. please let me be myself again.#idk how to explain. I resonate I guess#it often feels very disturbing but the characters are also disturbed#So now Iâm kind of stuck reading this fic because I just canât stop lol#just politely skipping the parts that make me too uncomfortable#also#the body horror isâŠ.damn. Impressive. I didnât expect to read about grotesque fleshy creature turning itself inside out#itâs not even aesthetic or symbolic#it literally looks like a fucking nightmare. Which is impressive also.#the flesh is g r o s s#the beginning got me struggling and skipping#but the intermission is currently ruining my sleep schedule#oh fuckâŠ.I usually send my posts to the authors of the fics I readâŠ..but I feel like I might offend the author of Ninth if do thisâŠâŠ..#thereâs a tiny chance theyâre following meâŠ.if itâs true then I wanna tell Iâm sorry pls donât take this seriously#your fic got me waay out of my comfort zone#huge points for writing Ratchet. Drift in this fic isâŠthe grossest fucking thing I could probably imagine but Ratchet doesnât even hesitate#he helps him and he cares for him. Which isâŠ..imma be real my first instinct would be to set Drift on fire to end his misery
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i started liveblogging my read in my tags but i ran out of tags so imma continue here but like. read the tags first and then this cuz thats the order. damn i wish i had slots left so that i could tag the reblog w the writing tag as well n stuff. welp, next time ig
anyway moving on from phone-trees
âyou may not be my daughter but i still want Mariaâs kid to be safeâ thats so cute i love you snake man
âfor the institution is spell protectedâ ooh interesting!!!
âadmission exams were such a pain in theââ liz you are 100% correct. also its so fucking cool that you can camouflage!!
okay so if its an anthology im assuming it happens in the same universe? but idk lost of anthologies work differently
if you have more thoughts about the university id be happy to listen im curious to see what kinds of courses there are!!!!!
also im wondering what sort of magical beings are possible in this world. and now thinking of it, i wonder whats up w carlos he seems like a chill dude, i like him
Paternity Test
âI think my dad is a demon.â
âNot unheard of.â Carlos, the exchange demonology student, replied.
Liz frowned.
âI'm serious. My mom never talks about him and now there's this weird⊠spirit thing, following me.â
âDo you feel hot?â
âWhat?â
âHot, angry, headaches, skin reddening?â
âNo?â
âNo signs of a hellspawn then, you're clear.â
âCome on Carlinhos, help me here, you're the only one from that weird magic uni I know.â
Carlos sighed.
âOkay, tell me what happened.â
âIt all started 3 months ago.â
I had just arrived home from school. Mother sent me a message saying she wouldn't be home but lunch was in the fridge. So you can imagine my surprise when I saw Mom in the kitchen, frying rice. (my favorite!)
When she noticed me walking in she turned to me with the brightest smile I ever saw on her face. She rushed me to the table saying I should eat my lunch before going to work. And that's when I started to notice some weird stuff.
First of all, her fried rice didn't taste the same. It wasn't bad, but it didn't taste like mom's fried rice.
Second, she would not eat with me, just⊠stare. It freaked me out. She kept smiling while looking at me, and when I asked if she was going to eat she said:
âOh no, human food give me stomach aches.â
She said that with a straight face, I didn't know whether to believe she was joking or not.
Once I finished my food she stood up and gently held me by my shoulders. With tears in her eyes she said:
âMy daughter, my beautiful daughter.â
Do I need to say that's not something my mother does regularly? She continued:
âI missed you so much.â
And kissed me on the forehead.
It was at that moment I heard the entrance door being unlocked and the distinct voice of my mother saying:
âI'm back early sweety, did you eat already?â
My âmomâ froze.
When my real mom finally reached the kitchen, they stared at each other for a moment.
âYou again?!â My real mom yelled, throwing the shopping bags on the floor âI told you to leave us alone! Get away! Go! Go!â
She was slapping my âother momâ in the back and rushing her out of the house. I remember the pitiful look on my other momâs face, she was silent as she left the house.
When I, rightfully, asked my actual mother what the hell just happened, she said we should talk after my shift, so I went to work. When I got home that day, she simply acted like nothing ever happened! She's gaslighting me to this day!
***
âOh!â Carlos interrupted âWas it that day? The one you were so tired you thought your hand was turning gray while working the coffee machine?â
âYeahâ
âHmâŠâ he squinted his eyes at her âCrazy, sorry, go onâ
***
And then I started to notice weird stuff happening.
First, suddenly I noticed a strange aura on the snake that always follows me aroundâŠ
***
âWait, wait, sorry again, the hell you mean the snake that follows you around? Are there even snakes in this region?! Isn't Ireland a snake free country?â
âYeah, I didn't notice at first, there were plenty of snakes in my hometown, I hadn't realized they weren't common here.â
âAnd you were not worried that a specific snake followed you around?â
âIt wasn't a venomous one, it's a milk snake, cute, like a pet.â
âHoly Shit.â
âCan I?â
âYeah sure, go ahead.â
âOkay soâŠâ
***
There was this weird aura around it.
Out of nowhere the snake tried to curl around my leg so I grabbed it gently, I looked at its face and I shit you not â I recognized it! The way its mouth stood⊠it looked like it was smiling, the same smile my âother motherâ had at that time!
No need to say I dropped the snake and ran away.
Three days later my math teacher started acting weird as well. You know, don't you? Mr. Walker hates my guts! But suddenly he was being very nice to me. He wouldn't complain about my lateness anymore nor scold me for sleeping in his class. A sudden change of heart was weird but I wasn't complaining. Until I noticed.
His smile. He would always smile at me, with the same smile.
The same as the other mother. The same as the snake.
I wasn't having it.
After school, I cornered him in the parking lot.
âWho are you and what did you do with Mr. Walker?!â
He looked surprised for a moment.
âWhat do you mean, Miss Ferreira? I'm Mr. Walker.â
âNo, you're not.â I rebuked âMr. Walker can't pronounce my last name for shit. You're not him. What did you do?â
He smiled. The same sly snake-like grin.
âI believe we should discuss this in a place a bit more⊠private.â
âI'm not going to your fucking second location, you weirdo.â God knows what he had done to Mr. Walker. I wasn't risking it. I watch true crime documentaries, I'm not dumb.
He looked genuinely hurt. Maybe I was being rude. But fuck politeness.
âMaybe you could⊠choose a place and time? So we can discuss it properly. I swear your teacher is fine.â
He looked pathetic at this point. I was starting to feel bad.
âOkayâŠâ I said and gave him a place and time.
***
We met at a diner. It wasn't late, I had just gotten off work. The sky was gleaming orange on the horizon, streets busy with workers heading home. It was fine. I was fine. I was not nervous. Not a bit.
I wiped the sweat out off my hands as I waited for him.
He showed up. At the exact time we planned. He had the same big smile on his face, it felt⊠silly.
âI'm glad you chose a more isolated seat,â he said to me and winked, âLet me show you a trick.â
And then the man wearing Mr. Walker's skin suddenly wasn't anymore.
I'll spare you the details of the transformation, but you know how snakes shed their skin? Yeah. That's what happened.
The new⊠person in front of me was very pale, although their skin had red and black spots all over, very androgynous also, and very lanky. Their hair and eyes were black as the night sky, I could not see their pupils, but I was sure they were slits and I just knew that if I touched their skin it would be cold and damp. The smile was the same though. It felt⊠comforting, for some reason.
I was shocked of course. And disgusted. Not by their appearance but the âtrickâ was nauseating to watch.
They grabbed my hands. As I expected, cold and damp.
âLizzzzzâŠâ they said âI know this is weird, but it's been 17 years and you need to know the truth.â
My mouth dropped to the floor as he said:
âI am your father.â
***
18 years ago, Maria, my mother was living in the Bahian Caatinga. She lived a simple life. Not so good, not so bad. Her parents wanted her to have a good education, so she went to the capital to study biology in college.
Mother had a special interest. Growing up in the caatinga she was used to seeing and handling a fair share of regional snakes. But what most people thought as just a regular inconvenience was her deepest passion.
She loved snakes and would never let her father kill the ones that sometimes sought shelter in her house. She would always hold them carefully and release them back to the wild, leaving the old man to pout and rant âThey'll just keep coming back!â.
And that's cute, right? I'm all for helping the local species but⊠it caused her to receive some⊠unusual attention.
Suddenly, â no matter where she went â there would always be a snake around. She didn't notice at first, after all, what are the chances? But it was the same snake every time. A male milk snake, very common in the area but, That's weird⊠she thought, yet, what could she do? Even if she was superstitious, wouldn't that be a good sign anyways?
She got used to it eventually. And everything was normal. At least until St. John's day.
It was during the June holidays. Her village was going all out for the festivities that year: colorful banderoles from pole to pole, stands of all types in the street, the laughter of the children in their costumes filling the air together with the winter smells of corn, peanut, stews and alcohol brought by the cold breeze, the music never stopped, from the sanfoneiros at the plaza to the home speakers blasting all genres of music.
It was night, but the village shone as if the sun had never set.
It was during the festivities that a strange man, who later claimed to be called Conrado, approached her.
Extending his hand he said:
âCare for a danssssssce?â
Oh, he must be nervous, Mom thought, how adorable. And took his hand.
The dancing leads to flirting, and that leads to kissing, and kissing leads to⊠well, you know.
He promised to go see her the next day, at the cathedral by morning. She accepted, of course, after all, she had to explain that she had a boyfriend in the city⊠oopsies. But when she went there⊠there was no man, only that same snake that always followed her around.
And that was when he realized, and oh boy was she pissed.
Seriously? A snake demon?! A STALKER SNAKE DEMON?!
The snake did its best to be understood, to explain itself. But it could not talk, so I guess it didn't work.
What made Mom angrier was the fact that she didn't get her period the month later⊠neither the next month, nor the nine months that came after. And then I was born.
Years later, when I was⊠uh⊠five? she moved to Ireland â the only place with no snakes she could think of â to further her education, claiming I would also be safer here.
It took a while for âConradoâ to find us, most specifically, me. But he is very happy he did. He's been watching over me ever since.
***
âWait, you said she had a boyfriend back in the city?â I asked.
âHm? Yessssssss⊠I didn't mind thoughâŠâ
âThat means I could also be his daughter.â
He gave me a sad look.
âYessssss but, I feel you aren'tâŠâ He looked even sadder. âBut you musssst have notisssssssed, rightâŠ? That you are different.â
âNo. I didn't.â
Was my skin a little weird? Yes, but I'm a teenager. Do I have some speech impediments related to s and z sounds? Yeah, but lots of people have it too! Was my sense of smell stronger? Yeah, but that's not out of this world. Was I a bit stronger than normal for my build? Yeah, well actually no, yâall are just a bunch of wimps.
He looked at me with the saddest expression I ever saw on a man, he looked⊠pathetic. Exactly my mom's type, that I can't deny.
âOkay, thenâŠâ he sighed, âbut if you notice something⊠anything, you can call me, alright? I'm staying in the woods next to your house, just scream into a tree and I'll find you.â
He was about to leave, but then realized something and turned back to me.
âAlso, take this,â he handed me a rock with a hole in the middle âYou might not be my daughter, but I still want Maria's kid to be safe.â aw
And he left.
***
âAnd thatâs it.â Liz finished her story with a sigh. âHe canât be my real dad, right? I would have noticed itâŠâ
âLiz,â Carlos said in a deep voice âDid you notice that you didnât blink a single time in this conversation?â
âWhat?â
âAnd that your hands and arms have camouflaged themselves on the table?â
âWhat?!â Liz looked down and sure thing, the color of her hands was completely changed, blending in with the table. Liz's mouth was on the floor.
âAlso, everyone thinks I am enrolled at a regular university, no âweird magic uniâ, for the institution is spell protected.â
Liz was flabbergasted âThen how? IâŠ?â
âOnly special humans or magical beings are able to know the truth about the university.â
â...â
âYou should call your dad.â Carlos said âAlso, you're almost finishing high school, right? I think you'll be getting an email soonâŠââ
âI⊠don't I need to apply first?ââ
âThe mystic arts university works differently, it's more like they come for you, no application needed.â
âI⊠I'll get going.â Liz stumbled.
Needless to say, a certain snake was very happy that evening. And feelings aside, Liz could not help to feel relieved to have a uni waiting for her already, admission exams were such a pain in theâ.
#THE TITLE IS MUCH FUNNIER THAN WHATEVER I TRIED TO COME UP WITH#âexchange demonology studentâ i love that were jumping right in theres more to this word#(wait does my sentence actually make sense?)#âoh no human food gives me stomach achesâ <- totally normal thing for a (Definitely Human) human to say :)#âshe said we should talk after my shift so i went to workâ GIRL YOU HAVE NERVES OF STEEL I COULD NEVER#id probably call in sick and confront my mum abt it bc Holy Shit#âisnt ireland a snake-free countryâ omg i need to check for myself#OMG ITS TRUE#WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERES NO SNAKES IN IRELAND WHAT#THATS SURREAL#âneedles to say i dropped the snakeâ you DROP father???? YOU DROP FATHER LIKE AN OBJECT??? JAIL FOR YOU!! JAIL FOR YOU FOR 1000 YEARS (/j)#âmaybe you could⊠choose a place and time? so we can discuss it properly. i swear your teacher is fine.â he looked pathetic at this pointâ#he feel so tiny and and polite#makes me think of all those memes w polite-looking snakes#i mean#tbf thats LITERALLY what he is#âbut you know how snakes shed their skin? yeah. thats what happenedâ in a RESTAURANT???? PUBLIC PLACE??? HUMAN SKIN OF FLOOR??? O-O#idk why but the dad is just so funny to me đ#hes being unintentionally funny by trying to be so nice#i love his effort#âoh he must be nervousâ mom thought âhow adorableâ#maâam youre completely right#âthe snake did its best to be understood to explain itself. but it could not talk so i guess it didnt workâ man was trying so hard ;-;#but buddy. stalking is not really. Okay. like. i get that youre a snake. but also. people have their own lives? yk? privacy n all that?#âjust scream into a tree and ill find youâ brilliant communication method. 10/10 would recommend#nah but id be so fun if we could just yell into a tree to get in touch w someone#god imagine phone conversations via trees#imagine being in the park and this dude is breaking up w his girlfriend and shes like âYOU DIDNT EVEN BOTHER TELLING ME IN PERSON?#HOW MUCH OF A COWARD ARE YOU. CALLING ME FROM A TREE. AND ITS KOT EVEN YOUR TREE ITS JUST A RANDOM TREE IN THE PARK!!!!!â#the absolute drama if people could sense which tree youre calling from
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Ze during the Railway Workers' Day event
#soft looks soft smiles đ«¶#glad he had an event he could enjoy today#(of course he still honoured everyone especially the ones who died)#but god knows how much he probably sometimes craves these events#just âpeople eventsâ or culture or history#or something like that#anything that is not war and death and torture and war crimes and destruction and horror and terror#just...things he can enjoy#interact with people#giving his brain some new food (as well as his soul) outside of politics and presidency#bonus points if olena can attend#just having a tiny little bit of normalcy#i sometimes think about Olenas interviews where she talks about that normalcy and how she tries to create and preserve it for the kids#(and herself)#and i wonder if she may can do this a bit easier because they can imitate a normal life and household with taking care and cleaning...#...and school and so on#but vova is stuck in bankova 24/7/365#the moment he opens his eyes until the moment he closes them again is always about work#and we know even in his sleep he cares about work#he doesnt have any normalcy even though (unfortunately) living in bankova and working all the time now it is#(which we know he doesn't see as normalcy normalcy)#(he misses his family and their life he craves the old life)#so i wonder if these events are feeling like...normalcy#like being able to take a âbreakâ#just taking a breath#just doing something ...nice#even though the war is still present even there#but different#just doing what he loves and what gave him energy (and probably still gives him energy)
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hate my sister's shitty good for nothing boyfriend. can you imagine being a 30yo man with two kids who won't even scramble an egg. Not for his kids, not for his girlfriend, not for himself. literally if my sister doesn't leave out pre-made meals when he's watching the kids he will rip up bread or pour them dry cereal or open a granola bar and make himself microwave dinners. like, lowest effort possible. but if i mention this to my sis, she'll be like "no he's definitely cooked for the kids! he scrambled an egg for them once! i watched him do it!" but it's like...so he scrambled one egg in the last five years. just to like, prove he can? at your direct insistence? should we all clap? like seriously. hate this guy. had to really hold back recently because he had someone over and he was interacting with the kids more than usual for appearances, and he had to keep asking me and my sis what the 5yo was signing because he barely bothered to learn his own son's primary form of communication. i was so tempted to say "that one means 'go home' but you wouldn't know that because you don't take them anywhere." so hard to hold that in. If I had to describe this man in two words they would be these: Low Effort. Not quite bare minimum, but JUST enough to convince my sister that it would be too much hassle to get rid of him. he's stupid as fuck, but just smart enough to quickly stop shit like screaming obscenities at the kids for doing normal kid things. and he once stomped on my headphones and broke them in a fit of rage, but gave my sister money to replace them so it was "fine." Like, my sister thinks that he's just struggling with his anger issues, because he had a bad childhood, blah, blah, and oh he would never actually hurt her or the kids. and like, good for you, but i don't trust like that. genuinely hoping he gets struck by lightning and dies instantly.
#my sister and i do all the hard stuff and most of the easy stuff too tbh#cooking and cleaning and sorting out benefits and insurances and getting the kids to school and events#doctor's appointments and medications and dentist appointments and taxes#we get the groceries and care for all the pets and kids and household things#we both have jobs#i actually have 3 jobs#good for nothing boyfriend makes $12 a year plus some under the table cash as a âprivate trainerâ#which means between that and selling his plasma and borrowing money from his mom he can...pay his super cheap tiny part of rent#and occasionally hand my sister like $20#he doesn't buy groceries or diapers or household supplies or clothing or toys or literally anything#literally the only household chore he does is fold laundry#that's it. and it's not âDOâ laundry. it's just folding the clean and dry stuff#you know. the chore my parents would have us do when we were like 10 so we'd feel helpful#the 5yo is medically complex and we frequently make trips to a slightly distant hospital with him#and they literally asked us to stop bringing my sister's boyfriend along because he was disruptive and confusing#which was a polite way to say 'obnoxious and stupid as shit'#do you know how many times in one visit w/the same doctor he would ask 'so when does he get superpowers?'#he also obviously didn't know how to answer basic questions like 'how many times does he poop a day on average'#and 'how often has he been eating and what has he been eating day to day?'#like bro this man can go days without changing a diaper and will not even heat up a can of spaghettios to feed his own kids#he cannot answer those questions with any kind of accuracy#also i'm saying boyfriend because my sister desperately wanted to at least be engaged so she could say fiance in front of ppl#but just like marriage this was apparently a 'waste of effort'#not even the cheapest ring or the most underwhelming proposal or a courthouse wedding was worth his energy so...#yeah glad she hasn't married this waste of air. and i'll be praying for that lightning strike
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drawing for a scene in the TME light novel (specifically, Paris helping out Lyla!!).
I drew this scene immediately after I read it because oh my god of all the things I was expecting from Paris's first introduction, him lending a (unneeded) helping hand to Lyla was NOT what i thought his first introduction would be like
#ik the anatomy for Tyrone is kind of fucked up but drawing this exact pose like what I saw in my mind is hard TwT#TME LN#the mighty extra#Lyla de Belliana#Tyrone de Belliana#Paris Valerian#i had to reread this scene like 3 times but hoo boi do i ADORE the way Paris appears in the background#i have a feeling im going to adore the light novel version of him lmao#so far he reads as being a trickster and i LOVE tricksters#not that he isn't technically a trickster in the manhwa canon but based on the tiny context in the LN he's mischievous af#i haven't read past this part yet but im wondering if Paris helped Lyla because of Fian#or if he helped Lyla because of Helene#because i can see him helping out Lyla due to knowing she's important to Helene#and there's a possibility he's already met Helene and is allied with her#or he's acting on behalf of Fian#which makes less sense in the context of the light novel than in the manhwa bc there's literally no suggestion Paris would know that Lyla i#Fian's âfairyâ and therefore he has no reason to help her#so im putting my bet on him helping out Lyla either due to a promise with Helene or because he wants to get on Helene's good side#(and ngl i kind of hope for the latter)#(tho this scene alone made my brain go âokay but what if Paris adopted Lyla as his little sis in lawâ#because#you know#he resembles IRL!Lyla a lot and i think it's easy to mistake them as siblings if you put em side by side#which would be funny if that's intentional but i do not think so)#also on a non-Paris related note Tyrone gets an interaction with Helene in the light novel and i actually enjoyed it#the manhwa ignores the fact these two are fully blood-related but seeing Tyrone be scolded by Helene really gave them the feel of being sib#and i like how there's a little more depth to him in the LN than in the manhwa#like how he's trying to study the laws and being a political diplomat#i still like him the least of the named Belliana siblings but he's a little less one-note here and im enjoying that lmao
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geeked up.
you fucked around and snuck him an aphrodisiac, so now all youâve got to do is survive until the effects wear off!
content: smut, established relationships, bondage, edging, overstim, degrading, oral sĂšx, public sĂšx, exhibitionism, drĂŒg/alcohol use, afab!reader, gn!reader on nanami, spit kink, masochism
incl pairings: kento, toji, satoru, suguru
word count. 8.3k
soundtrack đ§ïžđż: sativa ft. swae lee
COCK THAT TEA / NANAMI.
A cup of hot tea. That's all Nanami had requested.
The lemon stimulant youâd mixed into the drink had made him wrap up his work early, clamoring downstairs, his eyes glassy with desire.
"Darling," he breathes out, staring at the floor, holding the cup in his shaky hand. "Are you busy?â
Heâs so polite about it. At first.
âWhat ever is the matter, Ken?â you question, running your cleaning rag in slow circles over the dining room table, standing on your toes as you stretch across the surface. âIâm trying to clean.â
He nearly growls, eyes shutting and reopening with frustration. His fingers flutter at his side like butterfly wings and he takes a step towards you.
âI need to be inside of you,â he blurts, looking momentarily embarrassed before his face darkens, then he looks up at you with viper eyes.
âRight now?â you fake your surprise, walking around the table to stand in front of him. âBut the dining room is so filthyâŠâ You watch as his nostrils flare; heâs clearly taking in your scent.
âYou know I would never force you,â he grits out, voice choked. âBut also - mmh - p-pretty please?â
His arms come up, either side of you, and he moves to pin your body between himself and the table. He releases the teacup on the table and his fingertips grip onto the surface so harshly that his nails make tiny imperfections in the wood.
âMy God, are you feeling alright?â you stall, pressing the back of your hand to his flushed forehead. âYou look unwell.â
âI feel unwell, baby,â he says, tone serious and apologetic. âI feel like I might die if I canât put my cock in you. That is unreasonable.â
Even as he says the words, itâs clear in his eyes that he doesnât care how irrational it is. He wants to act on his urges so badly.
You rest your hand over the painful lump in his pants. âIs that so?â
âNo, please donât,â he breathes. âD-Donât wanna lose my controlâŠâ
âYou wonât,â you purr, slipping his zipper down. âYouâre gonna be good and let me take care of you for once, âkay?â
His shoulders visibly slump a bit as the pressure from his hard cock is released by his unzipped pants. You take it a step further and dip your fingernails underneath the waistband of his Calvinâs, softly scratching over the blond happy trail.
âNo, no,â Nanamiâs head falls onto your shoulder, full body shudders coming out of him.
âIâm just trying to help, Ken,â you quip, rolling your eyes, moving to pull your hand out; but in the same beat his large hand clamps around your wrist and shoves it down deeper.
He jerks forward against you, a whine for help coming out of his mouth and landing breathily in your ear canal. You try not to shudder yourself, wanting to maintain the facade that youâre in control.
âPlease, just take it out,â he begs.
How could you deny him? Your usually composed, control-taking husband is begging you for something. It breaks your heart as much as it nearly makes you cream your undies.
"Alright," you say calmly, clamping your fist around his shaft, squeezing harshly as you remove it from its barrier.
Nanami whispers gratefully in your ear - over and over - until it fades into moans, because of you sliding the pad of your thumb over his oh-so sensitive cockhead, spreading his precum all over the throbbing skin.
You have his heartbeat in your palm. You feel it racing faster with each stroke of your finger. The organ jerks in response and so does Nanami.
His hips begin to mindly grind back and forth, his torso rubbing yours, hardening your nipples and exposing your arousal.
You let his length slide in and out of your fist, and his hands grip onto your breasts like they can save him from ruin. His hair has fallen down around his head, sweat ruining his gelled style. He looks so desperate.
You'd only wanted to see if the aphrodisiac would remove some of his patience. He's always so kind, slow, gentle. You were writhing to see him lose control, have his way with you, rough you up. Youâd hardly expected it to turn him this submissive and needy.
Fwip! Fwip! The sound of your top disappearing makes you gasp. Youâd gotten too lost in thought and allowed him to get your shirt off, leaving you in just underwear.
Your thighs turn in on themselves, but theyâre no match for his strength. Itâs as if you'd let a feral panther out of its cage, his nails clawing at the waistband, threatening to shred it as his hips pick up speed.
On a whim, you release his shaft and put your palm to his tip, running it over the shiny pink skin. Nanamiâs neck nearly snaps back. You rotate your palm over the tip and rip! his iron grip accidentally tears your underwear off.
He doesnât notice, as he maintains his grip on the fabric with his eyes closed. He freezes in place as you violate his sensitive tip and the underside.
âAgh - shit, shit, nononoâŠâ Nanami spits out.
Until finally heâs had enough.
In exactly three movements, he has your spine curved painfully against his torso, hand clasping a handful of your hair and pulling it against his chest, your shredded undies fallen somewhere on the floor. His groans in your ear are wet and raunchy, coming from the depths of his throat.
His cock pushes through your soaking ring of muscle, sliding through the ridges until it rams into your cervix. He has no regard for your pain level, punishing you even as tears brim your eyes. His hand cracks harshly on your asscheek, before scratching the sensitive skin and making you scream.
"My love, you feel so fucking good.â The lewd words leave his lips in an uncharacteristic way.
You want to roll your hips in time with his but he releases your hair and brings his hand around to cup your neck - faltering you as he thrusts deeper, the painfully solid cock violating your walls. If not for your pussy flooding the veiny organ, your entrance would be raw from the harsh stroking and lack of regard for your pleasure.
With a release of your throat, Nanami's hand moves to the back of your head and forces it down against the table, cheek pressed to the wood. You look at the abandoned drink at the other end. Now youâre watching as the cold liquid ripples through the teacup with each rhythmic thrust of your husband splitting you from hole to hole.
âF-Fuck, Ken, take it easy,â you whine, knowing itâs a full fib.
You want him deeper than he already is, cock bottomed out, heavy balls sticking to your clit each time he goes all the way in. Your internal organs feel like theyâre being bent out of shape, pressure in your belly a bit painful, but mostly exhilarating.
âI-I canât, baby,â Nanami grunts from above. âYour pussy has me so out of control.â
You decide to admit, in a sultry moment of regret what youâd done. Your pussy canât take all the credit for making him this feral, can it? Nanami doesnât respond much, but his cock begins to take it out on you.
His veins pop from his wrists as he pushes your head further into the wood, cheek squishing in on itself, muffling your sobs.
He moans in response to his new rhythm, grunting your name over and over, mixed with naughty minx, take me, feel good?, mhmm.
He hikes his hips at an upward angle and the new spot he's hitting is foul, causing you to scream so loud the noise reverberates off of the walls.
You put a leg up, knee to the edge of the table for stability. Your arms stretch across the surface and you feel drool trickle out of your mouth - your mind so fucked out that you can't even bring yourself to moan.
"Where's my spouse?" Nanami questions rhetorically, shoving a deep thrust in you while cracking his palm on your stinging asscheek. "Why can't I hear them?"
You swallow, trying to stop some of the drool, attempting to answer him but all that comes out is a guttural cry for mercy.
Nanami pretends not to hear it, and runs his nails along your pretty arched back.
His fingers yank your head in the direction of his old cup, âBe sure to look at what got you into this ordeal, dear. Stimulants in my tea, really?â
Your moans return when you feel the pool of fire deep within your belly, and Nanami feels you fluttering your walls around him in an attempt to fight off the orgasm. But he recognizes your moans all too well, so he drills his hips harder to push it out of you.
"Ken! No!" you cry, trying to hold it off, but just before you release he's spilling his own hot spurts into you.
You feel each rope hit the opening to your cervix and your cunt sends you into the harshest orgasm you've had your entire marriage; your one leg that remained on the floor giving out, leaving you to dangle on the edge of the table.
But Nanami's strokes show no sign of slowing down. You feel the veins in his cock drumming against your slick ridges, and his length remains solid.
âMm, so much wetter now,â he notes, his cum nearly sticking his balls to to your clit every time he shoves his groin against your ass.
The noise that comes from your cum mixing together as lubricant is so nasty; it makes your toes curl as you lay on your stomach and continue to take the pain.
Youâll spend the rest of the evening begging him for mercy and not receiving it. When you think heâs finally done, he carryies you upstairs, telling you that heâs going to give you a massage to calm your strained legs.
But when you end up on your side as Nanami stuffs you full of kids for the sixth or seventh time, you realize the massage had been part of his plan, and he gives no hint that heâs near finished with you.
KNOTTY BOY / TOJI.
Toji had arrived home from work right on schedule. You'd been in the middle of preparing breakfast for dinner, the kitchen smelling of bacon grease and syrup.
He'd come in and given you a quick kiss, then disappeared to the back of the apartment to shower.
While he was gone, you'd finished cooking, and loaded his plate up with sausage, bacon, and eggs. Then, you plopped a tower of pancakes in the leftover space. This is when you ripped open a packet of honey from the gas station. You'd seen it on the counter one day whilst getting snacks and, you were curious to see if the rumors were true.
Youâd felt a twinge of guilt as you drizzled the honey all over his pancakes and then hid your naughty work by covering it with maple syrup. It almost felt like drugging him, but you knew it wasnât, and the worst thatâll happen is consensual rounds of sex. Youâd disposed of the empty wrapper in the trash just in time.
Toji comes back from his shower with damp hair and oily skin, wearing nothing but a pair of basketball shorts that cling low on his v-line. Your chest heats in response, but you maintain an innocent smile as you pad over to him with his dinner.
He sits down at the kitchen table, ready to dive into your delicious meal with a thankful grunt.
"Not hungry?" he questions, noticing that you remain standing behind him, rubbing some of the tension from his shoulders.
"I had a heavy lunch," you lie. "How was work?"
Toji pokes his fork into a sausage link before bringing it to his mouth, "Hot. Annoying. Lil' bitch Shiu was moaning about his sunburn all day."
You giggle, observing the darker shade on Toji's skin from where he has the privilege of tanning instead of frying in the sun. He's glowing like a cinnamon roll coated in sweet icing, and you want to drag your tongue over his moisturized torso.
"Well, least you're home now," you kiss his cheek. "I missed you. I hate when you have to work such long shifts."
He sighs. "Gotta do what I gotta do, puss. Have ta'make sure you have everything you want."
"That so?" you coo. "Thereâs something I want right now."
Toji reaches for the cup of orange juice you'd poured for him, thick eyebrow raised, âSpit it out.â
"Have you ever considered letting me tie you up? You know, 'stead of the other way around?" The words are out before you can stop them, and you're immediately writhing in regret when there's silence for several moments.
Toji takes a sip of the juice, and then turns to face you. "Needy brat, you thinkin' about tying me up while I'm tryin'a eat?"
You tap your fingers on his traps, trying to build a shovel to dig yourself out of this hole. "Actually, I've been thinking about it all day," you admit. "I was just worried you might be too tired for⊠you know."
His fork pokes into the pancake stack. Youâre overcome with a sense of urgency. The minute he ingests the honey, the timer begins.
Toji chuckles and tilts his head awkwardly, rolling his neck. "You know I would never let you go to bed without a couple of nuts, ma." He takes a big bite of the cakes. "Didn't expect that, though.â
"O-Only if you want, of course," you throw out quickly, suddenly more nervous.
Toji swallows and turns to wrap an arm around you, pulling you flush against his body as he sticks his fork back into his food. "If you're gonna be in control, ya can't backtrack. Gotta stand on business.â
You swallow, "Well, unlike you, I need your compliance because I can't just throw you around like you weigh nothing."
Toji's body shakes against you as he takes another bite of pancake. You know the effects take a bit to kick in, but you aren't sure how much time you have left now.
"Would like to see you try to throw me around, though,â he says before adding, âdo ya even know how to tie a knot, lilâ girl?â
"Of course," you say, offended. "I've watched you plenty of times."
"Usually while you're already on your second orgasm and cockdrunk, but..." he shrugs, "we'll see.â
You part from him, allowing him to finish his dinner as you collect the ropes from the closet. You untangle them as you wait. You're buzzing with excitement, blood pumping through your ears and your cunt, as you can already imagine his large torso being pierced with puffy red marks from the ropes digging into his baby-soft skin.
You're just about ready to drag him away from the kitchen by his ears when Toji finally comes into the room, sucking leftover syrup off of his thumb, eyeballing you.
"Mm, did you do something different to the pancakes, puss?" he questions. "Might be a new favorite of mine."
You smile and shrug. "Nope, don't think so."Â
He buys it, or if he doesn't, he doesn't press the topic further. Instead his eyes travel over the wooden chair in the center of your bedroom.
âWelp, let the games begin,â he says, holding out his arms as he releases himself to be at your mercy.
Around ten minutes later, his sits with his arms pinned behind his back. His torso is attached to the back of the chair while his ankles are bound to the legs.
âWell done,â Toji grunts, attempting to tug on the ropes and being unsuccessful in loosening the knots. âMy lilâ brat does pay attention.â
You lean over him, putting your hands on his shoulders. His cock has definitely hardened by now, sitting pretty in his lap as youâd requested he take his shorts off before being tied up.
You watch as his thighs flex and his cock jerks up, tip glistening under the warm lighting in your bedroom.
âAgh, fuck,â he spits. âShow me what you got, dollface.â
You continue to stand, fingers linked together in front of you, implying you have no intention of touching him. âWhat do you mean?â you ask innocently.
âBrat, donât piss me off,â he grunts, a vein in his neck throbbing as he tilts his neck, fighting harder against his restraints now.
You giggle innocently and bring your knee up to the meeting of his thighs, ghosting it over his light brown tip. âYou doing okay there?â
His eyes flutter closed, beads of sweat appearing on his brow line just under his hair. âFuck. Stop doing that shit.â
âOr what?â you taunt, knowing heâs trapped.
âOh, Iâm going to kill you,â he threatens, but he canât help but let out a delicious grunt when you glide your knee up his wanton shaft - back down again.
âWhat is it you always call me?â you tap your chin, pretending to think about it. âNeedy whore.â
âFuck you,â he grits, fists balled up behind him. You see his fingers attempting to reach the bottom of the knot but to no avail. He has no way out of this and he knows it. Youâre watching the aphrodisiac kick into his system in real time.
His pupils expand when he looks up at you. His cheeks are slightly pink, and his bottom lip is underneath his teeth.
âOkay, okay,â you say, rolling your eyes. You reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it slowly past your stomach, then over your chest. You shake your tits in his face, and he leans forward, snapping his teeth, like a shark threatening to take a chomp out of your flesh.
âQuit playing with me, Y/N,â he says sharply. âIâmma fuck you up. Bruise your little uterus so bad.â
âWould love to see you try,â you crack, pulling the fabric off your head and shaking your hair free. You know just how bad your hair turns him on, how much he enjoys nearly ripping it from your scalp as he delivers painful backshots.
He jerks against the chair, causing you to jump a little. You turn around and sit on his lap.
Tojiâs entire body stiffens. âGod, why is my shit so sensitive?â The sentence comes out breathy, almost whiny. Toji never allows himself to switch, but you feel you may have unlocked the ten percent of him that likes to be submissive.
âWhat did you do?â he goes on. âYou did something to me - fuck.â
And the moment you'd come clean, you were already bouncing deliciously on his cock, watching as he squirmed against his restraints and cussed in your ear.
"You're fuckin' dead," he keeps saying, before giving up and breaking into a pathetic little, "fu-uck. Mmh, yeah, ride me baby. Gonna fill you up."
"No you're not," you say, noting how his cock begins to twitch and using your knees to lift yourself up and slide it out of you, leaving your cunt pulsing with ache.
"What the fuck - get back here," he growls. His arms pull against the ropes, and you fear at any moment they're going to pop.
"This is payback, Toji." You look at your nails and then sit yourself back down, facing him with your cunt touching his cock but not allowing him the pleasure of being inside of it. "All those times you overstimulate me, or edge me.â
You lean forward and kiss him on the nape of his neck. He howls, jerking his cock up against you for even the slightest bit of pleasure.
You're just about to drag your teeth across the prominent vein in his neck when a terrifying shred! sound enters the air.
You sit up straight and stare down at Toji in horror, but his face has twisted into a sinister, knowing smile.
"You fucked up, you know that?" he questions, and before you can scramble off of his lap, his arms are around your body, capturing you against his chest.
The next few seconds are a blur. Before you can blink or breathe, the tip of Tojiâs cock feels like itâs inside your intestines, your back against your bedroom door as he fucks you against it.
âA honey packet like Iâm some booty call?â Toji gripes, drilling his hips into you so mean, that all you can do is slap your hands on his back for mercy. ââBout to turn your pussy inside out, demon brat.â
âToji! Please,â you cry, trying to spread your legs on either side of his hips to make it feel like he isnât going so deep, but his cockhead is so slick and fat that itâs threatening to crack you open.
His body being covered in oil is not working to your advantage. Your hands are sliding off of him, until you finally give up and take your hands in his hair, and he increases his speed because of it.
âI oughta chain you to the bed with a vibrator on your clit,â he threatens. âSince you wanna play with me. Fuck. So fucking creamy, ma.â His head falls to stare at your cunt as his cock drills in and out of it, white substance layering on his groin and between your folds.
âIâm sorry baby, Iâm sorry,â you whine into his ear, âo-ooh. Shit.â
ââSorry baby,ââ Toji mocks. âYeah. âM sorry too. Sorry that you ainât gonna be able to walk for a few days. Hold on tight, brat.â
SHOOT MY STEAM / GETO.
"Baby, can you pass me my bottle?"
The sentence you've been waiting to hear for about thirty minutes now.
You're at the gym with your boyfriend. You've been resting on the bench, watching him do his sets, waiting for him to ask for his water.
Suguru knows you always mix in his electrolyte packets for him, only this time, you'd found a convenient aphrodisiac powder to put inside instead. You wanted to see just how hot and sweaty he could really get with it flowing through his veins while he trained.
Only one issue with that: youâd accidentally forgotten about putting it in there, so youâd taken a fat swig a while back and now youâre paying for it as you sit and watch him.
"C'mon, monk, back on your feet," he says, taking a deep breath after chugging some of his water. He places it next to you and then reaches his hands out to help you stand. "'M gonna lose motivation if you're not up with me."
You swallow thickly and force a smile, before taking his hands and rising back up to follow him to the weights. Your body is tingling, cunt ripe with desire.
You decide to do some lunges to distract yourself while Suguru works on the lat pulldown, and you stare with heat in your chest as his back muscles flex under the cut-off sleeves of his shirt.
You think about your nails sliding over the sweaty skin to incite dangerous growls from your boyfriend, making him fall apart as he pumps you full of dick. Your head spins.
You attempt to shake the thoughts away and continue lunging until he finishes his pulldowns. When he stands, an erection is painfully obvious in his shorts.
He walks over to you, voice low. "Well, I guess this means I'm doing good," he comments, pointing to his new friend, and then gesturing to you. "It's also probably because your legs are looking good, angel. Damn."
You giggle and walk to drop off the weights. "Are you gonna be able to keep working out with... that?" Youâre mostly asking for yourself, because if youâre forced to sit here and watch him workout with a boner, you may combust.
Suguru glances at himself in the mirror, rolling his shoulder blades. "It'll go away in a second. It's just all the blood pumping through me."
You blink. Your self control is dwindling but you try to redirect your focus. "'Kay, well I'll be over here starting some squats."
Suguru nods and pulls you in for a sweaty kiss, "Alright, love you."
God, you wish he hadnât done that. Now everywhere his body touched you feels like a thousand needles. You want to grab him the minute he attempts to pull away, but youâre frozen in place, the fuzzy memory of his sweaty lips on yours making your panties damper.
And the next twenty minutes are history. You watch as Suguru loses more and more of his focus, his painful erection never coming close to dying. He slows down in his workouts, his eyes lingering on you much longer than before. You even watch him blink harshly, attempts running futile at pushing away his feelings. Then at last, he comes to collect you.
Now, you know it's a little unsanitary to be laid out over the sauna bench, Suguru leaning over you as steam and sweat drip from his locks.
You also don't care. The lust in his eyes, the furrow in his brow from where he doesn't understand why he couldn't wait to get home to do this is making your pussy throb around him.
"Fuck me," Suguruâs eyes roll back as he brings one of your slippery legs over his chiseled hip, sides of his cock gliding against your internal ridges. âFeels too fucking good, monk.â
All you can do is whine in response, as the subtle curve in Suguruâs dick causes it to poke the squishy roof of your tunnel. Your arms are trying to hold onto him, but with the steam, the two of you are just sweaty, wet bodies gliding against each other.
His abs rub over your belly and sensitive nipples, and he takes in the way each grind makes you gasp a little harder than before.
"F-fuck, Suguru," you whimper.
"Hah - ngh," he growls in your ear. "Don't say my name like that."
"S-Suguru," you repeat, feeling his nails attempt to dig into your skin before his fingers slide over your wet hips. "Wanna feel your cum."
He shakes his head, slinging water all over your face until youâre envisioning it being his warm semen instead. "N-No, feels too good, don't wanna cum yet."
You continue pushing him. "Cum for me, please?"
"No," Suguru spits, the end coming out breathy as he tries to compose himself.
"Please fill me up," you keep going, knowing that he won't be able to even if he tries.
"Baby," Suguru whines pathetically, but his strokes have noticeably gotten sloppier, needier. "Y-You have to stop."
You shake your head defiantly, before you crash your sweaty lips onto his. You moan against his mouth, taking his bottom lip between your teeth, piercing pressure onto it. His lips part as he continues slipping in and out of you.
Your bodies roll to the side on the sauna bench and continue going at it.
âCanât get enough,â he mumbles against your mouth. âSo wet for me, angel.â
Itâs not long before youâre practically shoving him off of you, pussy sore and swollen. But he keeps holding you back onto his cock, making sure you nut on him as many times as he is able to drag it out of you.
Then, after concerns about your time spent in the sauna, you wrap it up - even though Suguru still hasnât cum himself. But that doesnât remain the case for long.
You find yourself pressed against the wet shower wall not even five minutes later, only a curtain hiding the two of you from the rest of the people in the bathroom. Suguru keeps his hand clamped over your mouth, whispering in your ear how good girls keep quiet, while making it impossible for you to obey.
And when he finally releases his thick cum all over your asscheek, watching as it instantly washes away under the hot water, heâs sticking it back in just a few seconds later.
Your brain is mushed with ecstasy from the powder, so you hardly notice that youâve cum on his cock twice already, still ready for more.
GUMMY THROAT / GOJO.
âWant a hit?â
Shoko coughs and turns her wrist to hold her blunt out to you. You sit beside her on the couch and shake your head, holding up the bag in your hand.
âIâm good,â you grin. Inside the bag is edible gummies, which youâve taken two of, and can already feel your toes stretching.
Shoko nods in understanding and passes it to someone else, leaning back against the couch with her eyelids laying low.
You check your pockets for your other bag, which has libido gummy bears, not edibles. This is the bag youâd handed to Gojo, watching as heâd devoured three obliviously.
âSatoru, you know you shouldnât have eaten that many,â youâd scolded, trying to play along.
âRelax, my tolerance is higher than yours,â heâd quipped sassily.
But now that Shokoâs party has started to slow down, people disappearing in spurts, others sitting in corners or on the floor because theyâre stuck, you and Gojo are having a staring contest - and you know what it means.
His eyes are wide and his fingers are restless. Heâs sitting next to Suguru, whoâs naively engaged in conversation with a pretty ginger. Youâre pretending to ignore Gojoâs clear body language that says he wants to leave so that he can scramble your brains.
You giggle as your head falls on Shokoâs shoulder. Your body feels like itâs lifting off of the couch as the THC begins to flood through your bloodstream. All you can do is grip onto your skirt as if itâll ground you.
Gojo stands from where he sits and struts over to you, his blue eyes appearing to glow with madness. âY/N, get up,â he instructs, his voice commanding and unlike him.
âNo,â you huff, nuzzling further into Shoko.
âHave it your way.â He reaches down and grabs your wrist, yanking you off of the cushions, and you can distantly hear Shoko laughing as Gojo puts his hand under your thighs and lifts you into his arms.
âHey-!â you protest as youâre now being hauled princess style, his fingers pressing bruises into your skin with just how harshly heâs holding you.
âItâs way late,â he says. âAnd youâre high as hell. We need to go.â
âYouâre being extra,â you scold, bopping your finger on his nose before letting yourself go limp against him. âYâsure this is about it being late?â
âNo, it isnât,â he admits. âWatching you sit there and play with your skirt is making me lose my damn mind.â
âBut I was hanging out with Shoko,â you pout, and realize he is not taking you towards any exits at all. Heâs walking you to the back of the house, near the laundry room. âGojo, what are you-?â
âI need your throat,â he blurts suddenly, glaring down at you with a compulsory twinkling in his eye. âHappy now? Thatâs what this is about. Need it so fucking bad.â
You giggle. The air feels crisp and your mind is so free. The room spins and you still feel like youâre floating.
âOkay, but be warned that I have cotton mouth,â you hold up a finger matter-of-factly. âMay be a bit dry.â
He reaches the laundry room and pushes the curtain aside. If you were more sober, youâd realize how incredibly risky heâs being, but since you arenât, you donât care.
He puts you down in front of the washer, and wraps his fingers around your face, squishing your cheeks and forcing your mouth to open. In the same beat, he tuahs a mean glob of spit in your mouth.
âThere,â he whispers. âThat should help. Now I need you on your knees.â
He uses his grip on your face to push your head down until your knees collapse and you land on them. He releases you and you look up at him expectantly.
âAll this for some head?â you taunt, placing your palms on his thighs. âNot that serious.â
âYes it is,â he whines, âmight die if I canât shove my cock between those pretty lips.â
He leans down and swipes his thumb across your mouth, flicking your bottom lip and making your eyes flutter. Youâre looking at him but not quite seeing him, as the gummies in your system have you spaced out. Your limbs feel like theyâre stretching. You dig your nails into Gojoâs pants and he responds with an unearthly growl.
Your face is shadowed immediately, and upon focusing your eyes, you realize there's a fat, peachy cock looming over your face.
You gasp, watching as it comes down and taps you on the nose, fleshy and dripping in precum.
âSatoru-!â is all you can manage to say, as his tip grazes your cheek.
âOpen up,â he instructs, and you part your lips slowly, expecting him to shove himself inside but instead he leans forward and sends another drop of saliva down your throat. âJust making sure itâs wet enough.â
âY- mmh,â you're cut off, because Gojo has rammed the tip of his cock between your lips.
You part your teeth and wrap your tongue on the underside instinctually, eyes fluttering closed as you take in his salty taste.
"Speak up," he grunts, âyou were being so bratty a minute ago.â
"Ngh - no," you gargle around his girth, saliva filling your mouth and making it hard to breath, pouring out of the sides of your cheeks and coating his shaft.
"Look at you, can't even take all of it," he taunts, pushing his hips deeper so that the tip begins to push down your throat, making you gag, your mouth becoming wetter.
Your eyes are hardly staying open. With your brain being so mellow, all that you can see or feel or taste is Gojoâs cock as it pumps in and out of your throat, bulging through your neck.
âSo gummy,â Gojo purrs, putting his hands on the edge of the washing machine behind you. âThroat fits me so perfect, baby, yâknow that?â
You canât respond but the moaning attempt you make around his cock pulls a grunt from him. You know heâs being incredibly loud and obvious, but you can hardly scold him. The most you can do is crack your palms on his thighs, leaving tiny hand-shaped prints on the smooth skin.
âHngh - what was that for?â he scolds before murmuring, âdo it again.â
You smack his legs again and keep your eyes closed. Youâre salivating all over his length and it drips down your chin, which is being abused by his heavy sac in repeated claps.
âQuiet,â you moan around his cock, as heâs letting out the most pathetic, desperate moans while you drive your mouth down to the base.
âN-No,â he grumbles, lifting his shirt up, before taking it between his teeth. Youâre met face to face his with his perfect abdomen, glistening in droplets of sweat. âYou suck me up so good, princess.â
Your eyes roll in pleasure at the name, eyes watering, mouth no longer dry. You donât care if he wants to wake up the neighborhood; you just want to hear the delicious, sultry noises.
But right when you feel his dick twitch against the sides of your cheeks, you force your mouth off and swallow down the pool of saliva in the back of your throat. Your lips are wet and puffy as you part them and stare up at him.
âGah - baby, why?â he quarrels, gripping tightly on your head.
You answer by leaning back forward and kissing his tip, sticking out your tongue and flicking it over the head before backing up again.
His knees nearly buckle, his grip on your head tightens.
âP-please donât,â he whimpers. âS-suck it.â
âMm-mm,â you mouth defiantly, wrapping your lips over the tip and gently pressing your teeth down; should he try to shove it deeper, it would only hurt him.
âNgh - âm too horny for this, baby,â he growls. âWas so close.â
âToo bad,â you shrug, voice muffled because of the way youâre swirling your tongue over his slick pink tip.
His head falls forward, white locks dangling over his face as he tries to fight through his unbearably high libido. Your high has started to wear off but you can tell itâs going to be a long night for Satoru.
âAlright princess, I-Iâll remember this,â he coos from above, trying to push his hips towards your face but ultimately hissing and stopping when your teeth clamp down on the meat. âGoddamnit baby, whatâs gotten into you? P-Please jusâ leâme cum.â
âMaybe,â you hum, taking him out of your mouth and using your spit to stroke his cock. âHow bad you want it?â
âS-so bad,â he begs. âIâll do anything.â
âAnything?â you question, running your thumb over his tip. âHmm. Youâre in charge of cooking dinner for a week. Deal?â
âAh - fuck it, just please,â he whines, writhing under your touch, barely able to get his words out.
âCum,â you say silkily, sticking your tongue to catch the salty, white ropes that waste absolutely no time shooting from his shaft.
He twitches under your grip until his high has ridden out, but you use his cum as lubricant to keep stroking his poor length.
âOkay, okay,â he whines. âI-Iâm good now, agh.â
âYouâre not good till I say so,â you gruff, until his hand comes under your chin harshly, and brings you to a forced standing position.
âI said Iâm good, but if you think Iâm not getting you back for that - youâre a stupid little thing, arenât you?â He swipes his thumb over your cum-covered lips, and then licks it clean, before cracking you on the cheek. âNow, on your toes baby. And be quiet.â
A/N:
Iâve been trying to finish this for forever bro wtf is wrong with me
Iâm fighting demons (writerâs block)
And also⊠I think I wanna write some Gojo fluff after #jjk271 because my baby deserves love and light good fucking bye.
all the love always!
~pennjammin
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fanfic#jjk x reader#jjk smut#kento nanami#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#jujutsu nanami#gojo x reader#toji fushiguro#jjk x you#jjk geto#suguru geto smut#toji smut#jjk toji#toji x reader#geto x reader#jjk nanami#nanami smut#nanami x reader#toji zenin#jjk suguru#jjk satoru
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·.â đđđđđđđđ. thinking about true form!sukuna having a huge size kink (+ corruption kink).
word count. 2.6k
note. super self-indulgent. cant rlly blame me for creating this. also do you see those big ass hands in the header i used? yeah.. says enough (this sucks ass)
tags. dom heian era!sukuna x concubine!female reader. smut. porn with plot. size kink / size difference (reader gets referred to as âshortâ & âsmallâ). p in v -> unprotected. degradation. corruption kink (reader gets referred to as ânaiveâ, 'shy' & innocentâ-looking). tummy bulging. loss of virginity mention. hymen breaking mention. cervix fucking, ouch. lots of teasing. tiny bit of choking. tiny mention of blood tasting ? idk. hint at anal / double penetration. dirty talk. sukuna has two of everything btw mehehe. reader get called âwoman, brat, slut, little'.
sukuna is intrigued by you. heâs always been, since the moment heâs laid his eyes upon you. your loyalty and devotion to him are two aspects that the king of curses likes most about you. .
. . after your innocence.
it nearly irked him. every time he saw you hanging around the estate without a single care in the world. sukuna would attempt to intimidate you with serious threats. heâd loom over your short stature and look down at you with a malicious glint in his eyes. though, none of it seemed to work.
you'd only bow your head at him and apologise if youâve caused him any possible inconveniences. it annoyed the sorcerer. you werenât trembling in fear like all the others would â it was like there was nothing going on in that head of yours. especially when you smile at him. which no one actually dares to do.
sukuna could crush you. with no effort. one big hand would be enough to pick your entire body up, lift you in the air and throw you around like a ragdoll. you donât seem to fear the possibility of that happening, even when being faced with a pissed off sukuna.
itâs truly intriguing and amusing. thatâs why sukuna kept you around every day â as a form of entertainment, he called it. one thing led to the other and you eventually ended up as one of his concubines. the king of curses himself decided to grant you that promotion.
why? because not only does your fragile body, reserved and polite personality and innocence secretly fascinate him â it also makes him crave you. crave to shatter that naivety of yours. to take that small body of yours and make it feel what it means to be overpowered by a man twice your size.
sukuna does not regret his decision to make you his concubine. the first night you spent together was one of the best nights he had ever had. in all his many years of living. not a single woman had ever succeeded in blowing his mind when it came to sex.
it was usually boring and repetitive for the sorcerer. he felt nothing for those women heâs had in bed before â it was solely for the fact of satisfying himself. though, that changed on the day you had given him your virginity.
he remembers every detail; from your little noises of both pain and pleasure, your tight and untouched pussy that bled faintly when the fat tip of his lower cock pushed through, your nails that dug into his arms and back, your thighs that he held to your chest, his large hands that could easily wrap around the fat of them, your aching cunt that was left spasming around air as it tried to keep his sticky cum stored in place.
sukuna didnât think your tears would affect him as much. when he took your virginity and you whimpered in pain â he did feel a twinge of guilt. it was strange; he hadnât felt that emotion before. he had stopped and wiped your tears away. roughly whispered some words of encouragement too.
he had never done so before. never. he had never told anyone how âgoodâ they were for him. how heâd be âcarefulâ to not make it hurt any more. the king of curses recalls vividly how slow he started with you. slow sex. instead of rough like heâs used to.
sukuna wasnât chasing after his own pleasure in that moment like heâd usually have. his main priority was to make sure the girl below him was comfortable enough to continue. youâre strange. the things you make him do, say and feel are strange. and yet. . .
it was an amazing night. the best. however sukuna was left behind with an insatiable hunger for you. more, more, more. he canât grasp it yet; why he longs for you. for those feelings heâs suddenly capable of experiencing during intimate moments.
itâs why he calls for you every night. no other concubine was needed after you were made one. the king of curses couldnât care less about those other women. they are boring to him.
unlike you. the one heâs sure that he wonât ever get bored of.
âyou can take me so well now,â sukuna breathes out. one of his cocks was inches deep inside you, bulbous tip painfully hitting your cervix. over the past few weeks, your body had learnt to adjust to him, your pussy molded to fit the shape of his dick.
sukuna looks down at you and his cocks twitch with the urge to release already. his heavy balls clenching. your fucked out state is adorable. you seemed so.. vulnerable underneath the big man, âwhat a fragile little thing.â
it almost sounded condescending. degrading. especially with sukunaâs lips being curled up into a mean grin, his sharp canines showing. there was a puddle of your cum forming underneath your hips â staining the sheets that the poor servants have to clean by tomorrow morning.
âp-please, fngh, âs too big,â you sputter out. no matter how many times you took sukuna in, your smaller body couldnât quite fully accommodate to the girth of him. every time he hits your deepest parts, you let out a painful whimper.
sukuna kisses his teeth, though slows his thrusts a bit. the wet sounds of his cum and yours getting pushed in and out of your cunt with each move was too addicting. what sukuna loves most is the view of the skin of your lower abdomen swelling and stretching each time he pushes forward.
âi thought you said youâd take both of my cocks today, yet it seems like you canât even handle one,â the king of curses sighs whilst belittling you. one set of hands is holding you down by your hips, the other set is fondling your stiff nipples and circling your sensitive clit, âwhat a pity. a real pity.â
you almost choke on your spit as all your sensitive spots were being fondled. sukunaâs thick fingers leave no place untouched as he increases the tempo againâhis cock plunging in and out of your stretched hole. the upper one was twitching, rubbing against your clit and lower abdomen.
sukuna harshly grabs your jaw and makes you look up at him after he hears you apologise for making empty promises. he seems satisfied with you staying so polite. even when heâs practically rearranging your guts. the way you talk through your soft sobs and cries is endearing. makes him grin wickedly.
âi donât want to break my favourite little concubine yet, you see,â sukuna continues. he lets out a grunt of pleasure when your pussy clenches around his thick cock. no matter how many times he fucks you dumb, you still remain as tight as the first time.
he takes in a deep breath. heâs trying his best not to pound you into the mattress. heâd fold you in half and probably break you like the fragile thing you are. he could snap you like a twig if he wasnât careful, â. . .but youâre making it very difficult for me.â
you respond by apologising again. oh, how cute it was to see you babble and make up excuses. sukuna grits his teeth, jaw clenching as he resists the urge to go harder on you. youâre already squirming and moaning loudly just because heâs fucking you hard and deepâbruising your cervix and forcing your walls to open up to him.
ââm sorry, wanna take both.â you hiccup and sniffle. tears ran down your cheeks from overstimulation. it felt so good yet so painful to be taken by the person you admire most. you didnât want to displease him, so you uttered those hopeless yet needy sentences again.
sukuna stops his movements when you weakly ask him to use both of his cocks on you. he scoffs, not knowing where you gained the confidence from. he pulls out of your dripping cunt, leaving a trail of cum connecting both your genitalia.
ââwanna take both,â she says,â sukuna mocks you under his breath. itâs getting worse; heâs nearing the point of no return. especially with your desperate whines that were like music to his ears, âyouâll break, woman.â
two of his hands move to stroke along his lengths, smearing the mixture of body fluids all over them. his eyes glare down at your small formâalready fucked out, yet aching to continue. needing the full experience for once.
you always turn from a shy girl to a complete slut whenever he has you in bed. sukuna loves it.
âi want to try at the very least,â you mutter. itâs true that youâre exhausted. youâre catching your breath now that you got the chance, tired eyes glancing up at sukunaâs enormous stature between your legs, his defined muscles and the tattoos on them glistening under the faint light of the oil lamp.
it got your pussy throbbing and clamping down around air. you felt a bit light headed and your head lolls back against the pillow, eyes glazed over as you try to seem determined. but your body was tired.
âyeah? how. . . cute,â sukuna grins. he knows you canât. not today at least. he doesnât mind if you arenât capable of taking him fully since youâve already pleased him well enough for now. though, he still canât help but tease youâmake it seem like heâs going to give you what you want, âall right. donât say i didnât warn you.â
your eyes widen and your fingers curl around the silky bedsheets beneath you in anticipation. your heart is pounding in your chest as you watch sukuna pump his two cocks a bit faster, squeezing the base a bit, leaking some pre.
itâs all just for show.
âiâm not stopping. even if you scream.â the king of curses warns you with a dangerous glint in his eyes. you gulp at the terrifying aura sukuna was emitting. one of his tips teases your entrance whilst the other probes and circles around your anus.
he threatens you again, testing if youâll back down, âlast chance. iâm not pulling out once iâm in, do yâhear me?â
you keep being stubborn until the very last second. sukunaâs deep voice that shook you to your core was not enough to make you change your mind. you were so desperate to fulfill his every need and make sure that he was satisfied. it made you the perfect woman in his eyes.
the king of curses is completely amused. he decides to take it up a notch. he pushes his lower cock against the tight ring of muscles, pressing and nearly allowing the tip to move in. the sudden increase in pressure is torturous. you surely wouldnât be able to withstand the entire thing.
âw-wait!â you squeal in surprise and pain. the sting you felt made you snap back into reality. itâs when you realised that maybe you needed more time and experience to take both of sukunaâs dicks. you squirm your hips away, âcanât. i canât.. hurts too much.â
sukuna nearly rolls his eyes once you finally give in. he shakes his head with a sigh, feigning disapproval and annoyance. he pulls his entire body away from yoursâa ominous shadow casted over his eyes. it makes you think that heâs pissed off at you; for being unable to please him.
you panic a little. even if you are sure sukuna wouldnât ever hurt you. you know he favours you over the other concubines. you donât want to lose that position.
âiâm sorry.â you apologise before the sorcerer could say anything. he lets out a sharp breath, rough hands back on your body, kneading your flesh gently yet firmly. his eyes take in the view of you trembling.
itâs unreal. you are half his sizeâcompletely vulnerable underneath him. heâd normally call people like you weak and useless. wouldnât feel a thing for them. but your naked body below his is a sight he wishes to see every night.
it turns sukuna on so much. the fact that you are helpless and donât complain when youâre struggling to take one of his cocks gets him going each time.
âtsk. whatâd i tell you?â sukuna grumbles. he slaps his lower cock firmly against your clit. your body responds by closing your thighs together, though the king of curses pries them apart again, âstop overestimating yourself, brat.â
he isnât actually mad. it was expectedâof course you couldnât take both at once. he didnât even prep your other hole enough. plus you are clearly still exhausted from the previous rounds. sukuna just likes to. . . test and take advantage of your devotion to him. your obedience and desires to please him.
itâs fascinating to see you squirm and apologise in that whiny voice of yours. it makes him grin from ear to ear. and it keeps things fun.
before you could mutter excuses again, sukuna stops you by leaning in. just when you thought youâd finally get to kiss him, he goes to bite down on your bottom lip. a moan slips out of your mouth which only spurs him on to bite down harder.
you could feel the devilish smirk on sukuna against your lip. his wet tongue cleans up the tiny drop of blood that escaped the wound. he lets out a low hum in approval at the taste. delicious as always.
ânow, how should i punish my little concubine for being unable to keep her word?â sukuna whispers in a serious tone. it sends shivers down your spine, his hot breath traveling from your jaw to your right ear. he slowly licks your earlobe, âwhat do you say? any ideas?â
the tension in the room was palpable. your heart was stammering in your throat from the proximity between the two of you. you gather the courage to answer as sukunaâs fingers curl around your neck, squeezing your throat as if forcing the answer out of you.
âi-iâll do anything, sir.â you reply through a shaky breath. the king of curses pulls back after heâs got a response from you. your eyes meet his and thatâs when you know that youâve either greatly pleased him or have given him the chance to go all out on you.
itâs probably both.
âanything, you say?â sukuna repeats slowly. without a warning, he effortlessly flips you over on your stomach, a set of hands pulling your ass up by your hips whilst the other set holds your upper body down on the mattress.
a harsh grip on the back of your head results into you whimpering. your face was mushed into a pillow, almost leaving no place to breathe. your back is placed in the perfect arch with your plump ass facing up. itâs one of sukunaâs favourite positions to do with you â especially because it makes you seem smaller than you already are.
âheh. iâll make you regret saying that.â sukuna chuckles. a low, evil and wicked chuckle. thatâs enough to make you realise that he was not going easy on you. your submission had greatly impressed the king of curses and he's taking advantage of it. again.
what would come next could be a reward for that said submission. heâs going to fuck your brains out and make you forget about everything else except for his dick. a night you wonât ever forget as long as you liveâthatâs a possibility.
or perhaps youâre going to be crying and begging him to go easy on you. a punishment for not being able to keep your promise. that could also happen.
anyway, youâre about to find out which one it is.
#sttoru writes.#jjk smut#jjk x reader#sukuna smut#sukuna x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#female reader
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Is it annoying hearing about the people I find attractive in town đ€
#one of the new pharmacy employees at our rite aid is really cute#heâs a tall boy too I feel tiny đïžđđïž he towers over the darn desk#ANYWAYS the reason I bring this up even though Iâm getting embarrassed because do I do this too often?? do I come and fish about random#strangers too much??? maybe??? Iâll relax I promise but I donât have anyone to gush to in person so I just use this place as a diary đđœđđœ#sorry if thatâs annoying but back to the story#today!! we went to pick up my grandmaâs medicine and he was the one working đ€ seems heâs on shift around 2ish cause I also had to pick up#my sisters meds yesterday but ENOUGH let me finish#we were picking up grandmas meds and he helped my mom blah Bosch blah#btw my mom told this poor man that another employee was super rude to my grandma the night before when calling about her meds and Iâm like#mom đ what can he do about it??? poor guy#anyways after he walked away to get the meds she turns and says heâs cute#and me not wanting to EVER agree about the attractiveness of a person to my mom says âoh you should see him heâs TALL.â#đ«Ą she also said he was very polite and she liked him#Mr pharmacy man Iâm so sorry if you heard my momma complimenting you and then me dumbly talking about how giant you are I am not good with#talking about pretty people around my mom she knows NOTHING about the way I feel about people I refuse to share I canât#nope I only you guys get the details about my crushes and stuff so uh youâre welcome and Iâm sorry đ„ș#melifails#hes got medium hair and heâs a big boy not really fat no more like very rectangular the first time I saw him was actually when I was parked#I was sitting in my car about to leave and he pushed his hair back and fixed his nametag#I literally said âoh they have a new employee coolâ đ I donât have a life#đ© I live simply to talk about nonsense and gush about people#oh and draw stuff for people!!! I love giving free art call me the giving tree because Iâm all bark and I do bite#idk itâs 2 am I should be asleep#good night I hope you enjoyed my tags
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okay that kuroo piece is still coming but have this small sakusa x MSBY!manager blurb that I just thought up and got so excited about!! Iâm marking this down as fem!reader just for this specific little ramble. it can be read separately from the series !!
warnings: none, but probably a bit of a disconnect from what really happens at charity galas lmao
sakusa kiyoomi has a certain reputation for being very stoic and stand-offish in public- always polite but rather blunt in interviews. heâs tall, intimidating and not very personable around those who donât know him, so itâs not a surprise people perceive him this way. his preference for wearing his mask most of the time only adds to this reputation, and he couldnât care less. in fact, you would argue that he finds comfort in being perceived as unapproachable by strangers.
but when MSBY fans realize how horrifically down bad their favourite wing spiker is for the team manager, they have a field day with this absolutely drastic personality shift.
it starts with little jokes made by fan accounts about how much nicer he is to you in comparison to his teammates. they latch onto passing comments made by bokuto or atsumu about how when youâre at practice they feel at ease because theyâre less likely to get obliterated by his sarcastic remarks.
no one has clued into the fact that youâre together yet, just that thereâs some serious chemistry between you two.
it doesnât go much further than that until the night of some charity event a lot of different teams are attending. of course managers are there, as well as coaches and trainers and JVA employees.
youâre doing the press/carpet walk before entering the event and in between photos and walking between journalists, one of the straps of your heels has come undone.
you frown a little and inspect it before realizing your dress restricts your ability to fix it yourself, so you nudge your boyfriend and stick your foot out to draw his attention to your predicament.
you donât think twice about how there are no words are spoken. just a simple action and understanding between two lovers.
so people watch on as sakusa kiyoomi drops to his knees right then and there without protest and fixes your shoe. you take the opportunity to adjust the neckline of your dress (a deep, silky forest green to match his tie) and look around while you wait for him to finish.
you donât realize the uproar this is bound to create, and you definitely donât think twice about the fact that your boyfriend isnât wearing a mask to this event.
âŠwhich means everyone is able to see the blush on his face and the tiny yet extremely lovesick smile on his lips as he gets up. you grin and pat sakusa on the cheek in thanks before walking to the next reporter, him trailing behind you dutifully.
you check twitter the next morning and your timeline is flooded with videos of that moment, captions gushing about how sweet and happy he looks. some fans go as far as to say he looks like a lost puppy following you around.
he doesnât regret it one bit, but you have to comfort him when he loses his stand-offish reputation after that because he dreads the idea of more people possibly coming up to him in public.
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I literally sprinted here to write this lmao
not edited!!
tagging: @dira333 @emmyrosee
#sakusa x reader#sakusa kiyoomi x reader#sakusa x reader fluff#sakusa kiyoomi fluff#sakusa fluff#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x reader fluff#hq x reader#haikyuu drabbles
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Isekaied as the Yandere Villain!? Pt 2
Part one
It was almost 2 minutes before I realized I was still dragging the crown prince behind me. I quickly dropped his hand and looked at him, not able to hide the embarrassment on my face. Listen- Iâm committed to the bit. I WILL be the crazy jealous fiancĂ©. But⊠Iâm still human ok. I just dragged a full grown man down several halls and a flight of stairs while I spaced out thinking about how Iâm gonna buy my cat premium wet food once I get back home to her.
Itâs fine, Iâm not flustered at spacing out about my cat, my characters just flustered because sheâs been holding the hand of the man sheâs obsessed with, thatâs all!
âWellâŠ. Did you still want to dine and take that walk?â
I expected him to scold me for my mistreatment of Cressida, grow irritated from me dragging him along like this. Instead, he chuckles and threads his arm in mine, and begins escorting me down the hall.
âAbsolutely, have you dined outside by the roses yet? Thereâs this lovely pavilion that I am eager to hear your thoughts on.â
And thatâs how I found myself under an impressive array of roses, all trained up and around a cozy dining area, creating a canopy of green and pink over an intimate tea table. The food was equally impressive, I had to keep reminding myself that the other me is used to this lavish lifestyle, to not gawk at the fancy tiny sandwiches and deserts.
âWell? Is everything to your liking? â
Iâm going off script here, how am I supposed to know how the villainess would react to a romantic scene like this?? If my âevil crazyâ side isnât supposed to be directed at him, and sheâs usually kinda distant and unsure around himâŠ. That means I should probably respond pretty curtly, polite, yet not really engaging. ButâŠ. Iâve already messed that upâŠ. I guess I can be more genuine when itâs the two of us like this. He can think that this version of me is the facade, that Iâm pretending to be pleasant, and then will start to see what a jerk âIâ truly am when Cressidaâs around. BesidesâŠ. I almost feel bad for the villainess. She really just seems like she was shy. Who knows- maybe, if given the opportunity, she really would have opened up more. Itâs clear she loved the prince, and just didnât know how to show it. So, with that thought, I made up my mind.
âItâs breathtaking! Roses are my favorite flower, and Iâve never seen so many kinds in bloom at onceâŠ. Plus the food and company leave little to be desired.â
There you go- slip in some subtle flirting! Iâm not quite sure what time period this is supposed to be, but I get the impression flirting as bit more high class here, and I think I can have some fun with that.
âIâm glad, to be honest I was a bit flustered asking you to dine with me⊠you caught me quite off guard today, but in a good way.â He reaches his hand across the table and places it on my own, âIâd like to do this more often, you and I. I feel like the confines of our current arrangement have left us practically strangers, despite being engaged for several months already. Iâm enjoying just being companionable with you, even if itâs just existing comfortably in the same room.â
Ohhhh, I know Iâm the villain in this story but I canât help but root for him- what a sweetheart! Itâs so obvious heâs been lonely, I canât wait for him and Cressida to fall in love and have a couple of kids that theyâll spoil rotten. And in the meantimeâŠ. Maybe I do have a bit of evil in me, because Iâm going to selfishly enjoy this handsome man treating me to lunches under roses and reading in cozy libraries while I can.
âI know exactly how you feel your highness. Now, you mentioned a walk?â
We spent the afternoon laughing and chatting, and it felt nice to chat without worrying too much about my role. He asked me about that book I picked out earlier, and listened attentively as I caught him up with where Iâm at in the plot. In turn, I asked about what papers heâs been signing, documents heâs been drafting, etc.
The only thing I had to do was send glares to any young ladies we passed, settling my hand on his arm possessively, and I saw their eyes widen and faces disappear behind fans as they whisper to one another. I can picture this illustrated in a manhwa- the nasty princess sinking her claws into the gullible prince⊠hopefully all these ladies will start gossiping and we can really cement this evil persona of mine now that Cressidaâs here.
When we returned to our separate apartments, I explored my rooms a bit until servants came to get me ready for dinner, and I slipped back into the frigid bitch persona. The servant girls dressed me in a slightly stuffy gown, but I had to admit, I looked gorgeous. I sat stiff and straight as they did my hair, forcing myself to be the very picture of cold indifference. I then dismissively thanked them for their help, then sat there awkwardly as they stared at me like I was crazy.
Ohhhh shitâŠ. The original story hadnât prepared me for this. My character was a villain, yes, but a side character for the most part! How was she supposed to act towards her servants? I went over what I knew- the novel showed the villainess alone quite often, usually obsessing over Eric and plotting/stalking. It showed her with Eric, and how distant and awkward their relationship was when together. And then of course the numerous scenes with Cressida where the Villainess did all sorts of heinous things to the sweet girl. But⊠it never depicted her with servants, or even any friends or other nobles. Just⊠Eric and Cressida. Was other me not actually a bitch all the time? Am I being unnecessarily rude right now? Oh god Iâm such an idiot.
The story is told through Cressidaâs point of view- of course thereâs more depth to my own character than I initially thought! The Villianess must be a misunderstood introvert! Unsure of how to act around her crush, sheâs fiercely insecure and jealous of this new girl who doesnât struggle the same way she does. When she notices the prince slipping from her grasp, she acts out against Cressida because she canât bear to lose Eric!
As someoneâs whoâs worked minimum wage jobs and struggled with social anxiety most of my life, I try to be nice to the people just working to survive, but here I am acting like these poor women are the dirt beneath my shoeâŠ. Ok. Um. Well theyâre still standing there in shock, I can fix thisâŠ.
âYou really did a lovely job⊠my hair has never looked so gorgeous, youâre truly talented! And I think the prince will be very pleased with this choice of ribbon!â
There- I was nicer, and I brought it back to Eric, so Iâm still the lovesick fiancĂ© whose entire world is waiting for her in the dining room. I frowned as the servants scuttled out of the room with hurried excuses, all of them looking like they were about to faint. Damn it⊠I canât believe I misread the relationship between us. I probably just ruined their night by being uncharacteristically rude. Iâve gotta learn their names next timeâŠ. Maybe ask them to help me eat some fancy pastries as an apologyâŠ?
I didnât know it, but while I was lamenting how wrong I was about the Villainessâ character, the servants were all gossiping to the others about what had just transpired.
âYouâre telling me she said THANK YOU!?â
âYes!!! And then you should have seen how nervous she got! She just rambled, blurting out such a sweet compliment, and she even tied it back to the prince!â
âI had no idea how precious she was⊠I canât believe I never realized sheâs just shy! In a new place, all alone aside from her new fiancĂ©âŠ. Who I gather sheâs got a bit of a crush on! Poor dear.â
âOhh our sweet girl, Iâm sure it must be hard bonding with the prince, when all you do is sit yards apart and hardly speak âŠâ
âWell I may have some news about that⊠and itâs no wonder she was a bit flustered today, because I saw the two of them in the gardens today! They were both nothing but smiles- absolutely smitten with one another!â
âSuch a lovely girl, and we never knew it all this time!â
Apparently, I had it backwards. The real villainess truly was a 2D, basic character. She was insecure and possessive over the prince, bullying Cressida half to remind her who Eric belonged to, half for the fun of it. But she didnât let on to anyone about the true depth of her love for him. She didnât gossip to her handmaid, didnât ask the servants which dress he would like better. Simply acted as if they did not exist, hardly saying a word to them.
While I thought my blunt âthank youâ was colder than they were used to, and then tried to smooth things overâŠ. It was more words than theyâd heard from me in the whole time Iâd lived in the palace. They lapped it up and declared me their own shy little dove after that.
When I arrived to dinner, I realized why daily dinners werenât exactly a bonding activity for the villainess and Eric. The table was massive, and only held two chairs, one at either end. It felt soâŠ. Cold?
Eric had beat me there, and quickly stood up from his seat, waiting until I sat and a servant pushed in my chair to retake his own seat. He smiled at me and said,
âGood evening, princess.â
He had to project his voice slightly. It wasnât like he was shouting or being loud, it was just the manner of speaking you use when talking to an elderly relative, clearer, and enunciating better so they could hear you.
I replied back, projecting my voice similarly, and found the conversation was, in fact, more awkward than it had been earlier. We ate our food mostly in silence, occasionally one of us would say something and the other would stop moving their utensils on their plate, listening closer as they ask,
âWhatâs that?â
By the time dinner was over and we each went to bed, I felt drained. I could have just been louder I suppose- but itâs so hard to keep up a conversation like that. I know we get along- we had chatted all afternoon after all. But some part of me realized itâs probably good to keep a bit of distance between us, even if Iâve rewritten things to be a bit chummier between the two of us. Cressida needs to swoop in and steal him from me⊠and my job is still to leave that room for her to do so.
Itâs hard trying to be someone else, yet also making sure you lead the plot in the right direction- itâs exhausting! I feel like both director and actress!
Itâs with this in mind that I launch myself into the softest bed Iâd ever felt, and passed out. My first day as princess consort, the Yandere fiancĂ©, complete.
While I was getting acquainted with my feather bed, Eric was speaking with the head waitstaff.
âYes, tomorrow, would you mind adjusting the seating situation? Iâd like for the princess consort and I to be closer together from now on. Yes, and ask my assistant to arrange my schedules like so, Iâve detailed it here. Thank you.â
At the same time, Cressida was recounting her run in with the prince and I to her handmaiden as she finishing unpacking and settling into her familyâs guest apartments. Which, unbeknownst to me⊠was right across the hall.
Aaaa! You survived your first day! And look at you- doing suuuuch a good job staying true to character. Nothing could go wrong⊠right?
Tag list for the series;
@bitternsweet @tonightwrites @confused-they @lanxianschoenheit @poptrim @siriuslyobsessedwithfiction @one-really-annoying-tree-rat @anonymousdisco @forbidden-sunlight
Tag list closed! Stay tuned for part 3!
#dividers by cafekitsune#yandere blog#yandere#obsessive yandere#obsessive love#yandere x darling#yandere blurb#soft yandere#yandere imagine#yandere scenarios#tw yandere#yandere oc#yandere isekai#isekai#yandere manhwa x reader#yandere manga#Yandere prince#Yandere manhwa#yan blog#yandere series#yandere male#yancore#yanblr#male yandere#yandere stories#irl yandere#irl darling#yandere oc x reader#yandere x you#yandere x reader
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cherry cola â op81
genre: smut, humor, yearning, tiny bit of fluff, virgin!reader, innocent!reader, experienced!oscar, sub!reader (for a while!), dom!oscar (for a while!)
word count: 8.5k
After a painful break up, Oscar finds himself head-to-head with an enticing girl, filled with pure innocence. Also known as, his parents secret weapon, and his worst temptation.
nsfw warning under the cut!
18+...f!receiving, fingering, brief mentions of masturbation, face riding, missionary sex, doggy style
inspired by this !
cherry here!... hellooo anons, long time, no see haha sorry for the lack of posts, but hopefully this makes up for it, somehow? formal apology for my last post too while we're at it. though this fic is inspired by cola by lana del rey, it will not have a sour ending like past fics (iykyk). missed u all, so here ya go! enjoy :)
There is an apprehensive sensation that towers over him as soon as she walks in; shy mannered, tall, and firm with a hint of hesitationâitâs something he adores about her, but also something that has him feeling jittery. Oftentimes, her lips are his most prized possession, enjoying the way they move. All except at this very moment.Â
Everyone notices his bitter, broken, and quiet mood despite always laying low. Heâs never been one to share his problems with others, and he most definitely was not going to start now. It should be the best moment of the seasonâhis first winâbut he doesnât have the joy to celebrate it with anyone.Â
Oscarâs brown eyes are low and dull; empty. Heâd be a damn liar if he said he didnât see any of this coming. If he didnât feel an ounce of guilt and misery. Should he have been more attentive, a better boyfriend, then he wouldnât be regretting his life choices. Dramatic, but true.Â
âHow are you spending your summer break? Are you and Lily traveling?â
The Australian tries to scoff at the innocent inquiry beaming from his teammate, but he settles with a wince, not being able to hide it. âShe, umâŠwe broke up, actually.â Heâs never been a religious individualâhas never even set foot inside a churchâbut for the first time in his life, he prayed no more questions would be asked.
Lando raises his thick brows, clearly surprised by the sudden confession. Sure, they were a private coupleâlikely the most in the entire paddockâbut he never saw this coming from Oscar and Lily. Though he only met her a couple of times, simply exchanging a kind greeting, he wouldâve bet his entire Rolex collection that the couple were smitten with one another. âAh, Iâm sorry, mate.â
The rude sound of his race suit being zipped up harshly makes the Brit flinch in the slightest. âDonât worry about it. Thatâs life, no?â
Costa Ricaâthey were supposed to go to Costa Rica. Instead, now, he sits alone on a flight back to his home country. Heâs ecstatic to be sleeping in his childhood room with outdated posters hung of all his favorite drivers, but the feeling lingers.Â
Sprawled like a koala, humid t-shirt pressed against his skin, he tosses and turns for an estimate of five whole minutes. He should be enjoying the beach, sipping on highly sweetened margaritas, getting the worst tan of his life, but heâs here. The hot summer air in Melbourne makes him spit out a string of dirty curses that would send his mum into a coma.Â
The brunette might as well be an only child since not a single one of his three sisters were here to keep him company, ditching him with his parents. He loved them, of course he did, but a full house was his ideal way to spend his break. His home gym isnât even enough to help him forget, even for a second.Â
âDinner is ready, honey,â Nicole announces, peeking carefully through the crack of the door. She grins widely. âThereâs even pavlovaâyour favorite.â
He forces a polite nod, shaggy hair dangling just above his eyes. âThank you. Iâll be out in a bit.â It actually takes a sum of thirty-minutes for him to jog down the stairs, a strong scent of apple expanding from his now washed hair. His dad hums as soon as he spots the McLaren driver.Â
âItâs rude to leave guests waiting, Oscar,â he warns with a deep voice.Â
The twenty-three year old assumes itâs a lame dad joke, perhaps, so runs along with it, taking a good look around the dining room. âWonât happen again. I showeredââ
âWhere would you like to place the dessert, Mrs. Piastri?â a soft voice echoes down the hallway as he turns at the unfamiliar tone. You halt, caught off guard by the new presence. âIâm sorry, I didnât know you would be here.âÂ
âIn my own home?â he finds himself squeaking involuntarily. The stern look that dances across his parents faces is enough for him to bite down on his tongue. He doesnât even know why he said any of thatâespecially to a stranger.Â
They introduce you two quickly, though youâre just as fast as to say that you obviously knew about his existence. Do you follow my races? You shake your head, glossy hair shining. âI work for your parents, soâŠI sort of know. Plus, your sisters always talk highly about you when youâre gone.â
He blinks. âYou work here?â Brown eyes flicker to his parents, confusion written all over. âWhat could she possibly do?â
âOscar,â Nicole scolds. âI thought you left all the unnecessary questions back in junior high.â
Chris slides a large hand over her smaller one, calming her down just a tad bit. The older man sighs. âYou know your mum, always looking for something new to doââ
âI wanted to grow a garden!â she squeals, delighted. âLike in all those magazines you get me for my birthdayâoh, so lovely, honey. Only I realized, I donât know anything about gardening.â
âAnd this lovely girl standing right here is a total natural. Her hands must be magic.â Oscar blushes hard at his dads choice of words. âSheâs helping us out for the time being. Until we get back.â
The Australian's mouth opens, then snaps back shut, swallowing. âGet back from where?â
âCosta Rica!â
He gapes. âYouâre using my tickets?â
Nicole winces. âCanât let them go to waste, honeyâŠâ
His father butts in. âHow is Lily by the way?â
The brunette groans, running his hands through his waves. âHow should I know? Come on, you guys canât be serious.â The tickets werenât the problem; the fact that they were leaving was. He spots you awkwardly placing the pastry down onto the table. âCan you give us a minute?âÂ
âYes, of course,â you quip, glad to have a reason to flee far enough away from the premises. You turn to the Piastriâs who smile fondly at your understanding. âIâll be out in the garden.â
As soon as you rush out, the twenty-three year old turns swiftly. âI guess Iâm leaving too.â
âDonât you dare, Oscar Jack Piastriââ He fumes. âWhy not? Youâre all going to be gone!â
âShe wonâtâyou are keeping her company.â Sheâs not asking; sheâs demanding. Staring back in shock, the McLaren driver avoids eye contact, fidgeting like a kid at their first day of school. His mum stands up, makes her way over, and pecks his soft cheek. âSheâs a sweet girl. She wonât be a botherâsheâs just down the hallway.â
Thatâs where Lily would always stay back when they first started their relationship; too afraid of making a bad impression on his parents. He found it adorable. He rolls his eyes and releases a heavy breath. âFine.â He stares out the glass window, focusing on where you patiently sit on the wooden bench, delicate hands pressing your dress down against your thighs. âFine...â
-
The following morning, his parents wake him up at the crack of dawn, bidding goodbye. It comes as a total surprise, thinking he had a few more days left with them, but no. Heâs barely registering any of it before they whisper inaudible nonsense and scurry out of his bedroom.Â
After some debating, he changes and decides to go on a quick run. The sight of Ms. Alleck watering her burnt grass makes him smile as he sets off. It would have been easier to not get as tired if it were a slight bit chilly, but itâs blazing hot. He cuts it short, dashing back home and immediately serving himself a glass of cold water.Â
âYouâre up early.â
The brown eyed boy jumps in sudden surprise. Standing in a pastel yellow sleeping gown, you grin brightly. Long lashes lay flat, nose pinching rosy pink, and breath minty. âYeah, my folks sort of woke me up. Couldnât fall back asleep.â
âOh.â You pout. âThey left already?â
âYou knew?â
âYup. They mentioned it last night before bed.â A beat. âI hope me staying here isnât making you uncomfortableâŠitâs just that they offered, andââ
âItâs not.â Lie. âMake yourself at home.â
Not much is seen or heard from him for the majority of the day; occasional glaces coming here and there. They put you in an uncomfortable spot yesterdayâyou had been working on the garden for a year now, damn itâbut their son's demeanor took you by surprise. The pictures and stories were something you relied on as the only source of getting to know him: polite, tall, and swankyâboyish.
That was so far from the truth. Oscar Piastri has grown into his body; almost appearing to be a handsome giant. Despite his warm face, his attitude is a bit snarky. He has no problem in saying whatâs on his mind. And he is most definitely not a boy.Â
Heâs a man.
âWhat do you say?âÂ
âSorry?âÂ
He chuckles, Adam's Apple dancing up and down. âWould you like to join me for dinner?â
It wasn't his intention to try and get close to youânot purposefully, at leastâbut he thought; why not? Who knows when his parents are coming back, when his sisters would, and he wanted to prove to you that he wasnât some snotty guy. Summer is summer, after all. A friend to spend it with sounds quite nice.
Pursing your red lips, you nod, setting your book aside. The dinner table is already set up. Chicken and rice. Thatâs it. Given, it looks and smells amazing, but plain. You quirk a brow. âArenât you supposed to eat your greens? To drive quicker?â He burns up at you teasing tone.
âI didnât want to risk burning the house down. Weâre lucky I was able to get even this done.â
âVery well.â The refrigerator opens, colorful veggies staring back at him. You grin, slow and easy. âIâll take care of it. Itâs only fair, roomie.â
-
Oscar left home a few years ago, migrating to the United Kingdom for work, so it had been a while since he had stepped foot in his backyard. He faintly remembers his pirate treehouse, his sistersâ Barbieâs cluttered inside. It was a bone-chilling sight for baby Oscar back then, but now, the paint is chipping off, the wood looks a lot weaker. Itâs a nostalgic feeling.
The new additions are stunning. A bunch of healthy flowers beam back at him and he swallows when he realizes he canât name a single one. Waxflowers, Calamint, Dahlias, Peonies, Carnations, California Poppies. One by one, he admires with an open mouth. âTheyâre beautiful.â He turns to you with a proud smile. âYouâve done an excellent job.â
Pink feathers onto your already blushed cheeks, biting back a cheesy grin. You had decided to eat out on the bench, choosing to enjoy the now fresh air. Still humid, but less than before. The scent of coconut sunscreen makes his whiff constantly. âSoâŠCosta Rica?â
He winces. It was too soon to talk about the situation, but something in your calm voice makes it easier to spit it out even though you probably already heard from his parents. All of a sudden, your savory carrots taste like complete shit. âTâwas supposed to go with my girlfâmy ex. My ex-girlfriend.âÂ
You pout, sorrowfully. âOh, Iâm sorry, Oscar. I didnât mean toâŠI had no clue.â And itâs genuine. Guess his parents werenât complete traitors.Â
âTell meâhow long have you been working on fixing the garden?â
âSince last summer,â you hum, chewing down on a piece of grilled chicken. âThis is the first time I have actually stayed here, though. Your parents are sweet. As soon as they heard that you were coming back home, they insisted I kept you company.â
Sharp jaw clenches and he scoffs. You simply blink back innocently. Then, he notices it. The way it reflects against the yellow ray of the now setting sun. He knows what it is, so he doesnât ask. Too busy staring off into the distance, you place your plate down. âLet me show you a few other things Iâve been working on.â
Thereâs row and row, further into the open area; every twist and turn makes his brows raise up higher, impressed by the noticeable updates. Coming to a halt, he spins his head around, brown locks hitting his temples. âSince when do we have a cherry tree?â
You beam, orbs shining with excitement. âSince last summer!â you repeat, cheerfully. You pick one, handing it for him to try. An embarrassing moan erupts once the sweet nectar slides down his throat. âGood?â
âBloody amazing.â Every compliment makes you squeal with delight. âMy mum is actually allergic to cherries, so howâŠâ
âShe was actually the one who brought it up. Said she knew how much I loved them, and that I deserved a little something for flourishing her garden. I couldnât deny the chance to do so.â You bite down on your lip, sheepishly. âThey are my favorite.â
Reaching for one makes him look away as soon as your dress rises up, soft legs poking through. Bare feet press against the wet grass as you tippy toe. He mustered a fake cough, but as soon as you bite down onto the bloody fruit, he clicks into a trance.Â
Plump lips; thick and juicy. Long lashes fluttering shut against your glossy cheeks. That could have been because of the summer heat, but it affected him just the same. The familiar sensation of attraction rushes to his cock as he stands stifflyâbut also loosely. He was loose. So fucking loose.
Something hits his cheekbones and it rips him away from his drooling. A singular seed now lays by his feet; indicating what you had done. A crinkled, wobbly smile shines back at him, hands nervously flattening your dress back down. The Australian jokingly lunges towards you as you squeal, backing away.Â
âYou were disintegrating! I had to get your attention one way or another!â
Oh, you definitely got his attention. Giving you one final scowl, he stops his steps. âEverythingâall of itâitâs great. Thank you.â The wind picks up and you shiver. â...for doing this for my parents.â
Neat hair flies against the breeze, covering your eyes for a minute. Pushing it aside, you scrunch your nose faintly. âAnytime.â
-
Technically, what youâre getting paid for was to watch over the beloved yard; thatâs all. But you offer to do more. Mow the lawn? Paint the chipped wall? Wash the windows?
âGod no, darling,â Oscarâs mum laughs through the end of the line. âYou are doing enough already. Please. Relax.â
But you canât. Nibbling on your thumb, you brush the counter, strolling past countless family portraits. A smile slips when you spot a toothless Oscar. âI insist.â
So, here you are; decluttering the attic. After a bit of bickering with Nicole, she eventually gives in and asks for a favor. Clean and tidy the small room. Easy peasy.Â
âOuch,â you hiss when a nail digs through your skin, gore immediately pouring out of you like a waterfall; you squeak. Just then, a certain brunette peeks their head through the entrance.
âOh good, itâs you. I thought we had an intruder.â
Raising a skeptical brow at him and the thin duvet, you quickly take it from him, pressing it down to ease the bleeding. âHoly crap, are you okay?â In one motion, he steps closer to you, analyzing the injury with worried eyes. You groan.
âItâs only a little cut. No biggie.â But the way your face is slowly losing color lets him know that your words aren't true. Brown eyes flicker, searching for a spot to sit, but everything about this is crowded. You were just about to start tidying; the mess was still there. Crouching onto a tiny stool, he takes a seat, somehow still towering over you. Or at least that's what it felt like, because suddenly, you felt suffocated.Â
His long legs are spread as you stand between them, hand out towards him as he winces at the brutal cut. âAhâthatâs pretty deep.â He gags when he notices the underneath flesh. You suppress a giggle. âWe should go to the ER.âÂ
You scoff, ripping away from his grip, tripping over a box. Regaining your balance, you drape the cloth over your hand once again. âThat wonât be necessary. Iâll be right back.â
After rinsing your hand with alcohol, covering the wound with the largest bandaid to ever exist, and balling your eyes out, you make your way back up. The Australian is drenched in sweat, huffing and puffing. âGot it,â he pants. Confused, you tilt your head to the side, but thatâs when you pick out the nail in the palm of his hand. You blink, too bewildered to make sense of how he retrieved it without the help of a hammer. âI also found lots of old trophies. Extremely bittersweet.â
âWhyâs that?â you hum, kneeling down next to him, reading through the labels. Each makes you more and more dazzled.Â
A minute passes by. âBecause I grew up.â
âThatâsâŠsad.â Shrugging, he digs for more. He laughs loudly, throwing his head back. âDear GâI forgot this even existed!â
Oscarâs 81 Things To-Do During the Summer [List]
Learn how to bike.
Learn the Australian National Anthem (Sophie will be beautifully impressed)
Get better at being more outgoing (Mum is worried)
So on and so forth. âYou were an extremely creative lad. Eighty-one things to doâŠeh.â A tongue click. âPossibly buy a pet dragon?â
He cringes. âNot all were realistic. I actually never really got around to it. Mainly added, if anything.âÂ
Crimson red flashes. âI, um, I could tell.â
69. Oscar Piastri, you know what I mean.
The brunette chokes on his saliva, yanking it away as fast as he can. Standing up to his full height, he rolls up the piece of paper and points towards the exit. âI think I should, umâŠyeah. See ya.â
âYeah.â He dashes off. âSee youâŠâ
-
Eighteen-year old Oscar was a horny bastard. But every guy that age is, so itâs not really fair to feel bad about his list. The writing is obviously his, but the things jotted down made him almost feel like it wasnât. Blowjobs? Hand jobs? What was he thinking?
And then, there was youâa curious cat. He had to be a virgin; he just had to. Why else would he be embarrassed? You werenât one to judge, though. You knew nothing about the sexual world, having never partaken. The thin band wrapped around your ring finger is enough proof.Â
And noâyou werenât married.
It would have been absolutely diabolical to mention sex in your household growing up. Being Roman Catholics is no joke, believing religiously to wait until marriage. You never had a problem with that; you would wait. Doesnât mean you didnât know what any of the common terms meant. Sort of.Â
Only nowâfor the first time in your lifeâthere it was.
Temptation.
The McLaren driver was no newbie. He has had his fair share of experiences; before Lily, with Lily. He knew just about anything and everything. His good-boy act was no facade. At times he didnât like that about himself, but itâs who he was. Obeyed the rules. Never crossed the line with anyone he wasnât romantically linked to. And yetâŠ
There you were.
The flowers were perfect; only needing to be watered. The cherry tree was much moreâŠcomplicated. The chances of animals recklessly hunting for the sweet fruit was high, the chances of the red drupes rotting also was. Therefore, you spent most of your time there.Â
Maybe you were avoiding him; you told yourself you were already horrified at the dirty thoughts taking over like the plague. And perhaps he was doing the same; he had only been locked in his room for the past three hours.Â
Golden hour. With your hands on your hips, you squint, admire the polished drupes, tickling with water. Walking back to the bench, you lay down, picking up on your reading, occasionally taking sips from your Cherry Cola.Â
Pacing the small bedroom, Oscar mutters to himself. Maybe she didnât read all of it. Maybe she doesn't know what it means. Yeahâhe was exaggerating. Clicking his window open, he gasped for needed air. As soon as he spots you reading, he grunts.Â
White skirt brushes down your smooth legs, challenging the sun to see who shines the brightest. Lips wrap around the glass bottle, puckering in the slightest. And he wonders; would you taste as sweet as the cool beverage?
Heâs a grown man; an adult. Thereâs no need to be uncomfortable. Sex was a part of everyone's day to day life. He was the one making it a bigger deal than it actually was. Still, he slips on a pair of sunglasses, perched perfectly onto the bridge of his nose.Â
âIs it any good?â
His voice makes you flinch, dropping the book flat on your face. A tiny groan rings through the air. Flashing him a weak smile, you sit up straight, fixing your clothes. âWant one? Thereâs plenty in the fridge.â
He had noticed, of course he had. Never in a million years did he think he'd see his refrigerator stocked up with the sweet drink. He never cared enough to ask who they belonged to; figured they would just expire.
Wavy hair swings back and forth when he shakes his head. âGotta keep in shape.â I see, you murmur, loopy eyes peeking over at him, taking another gulp. The sizzling feeling is utterly childish compared to what heâs making you feel. The burning sensation between your legs is annoying and painful, you almost want to plead for help. âI meant the book, by the way.â
âNo!â You laugh, nervously. âI meanâŠitâs alright?â
After he stormed off and left you a breathless puddle, you biked and bikedâuntil you hit the local bookstore. You werenât looking for anything in particular, simply browsing, but as soon as you reached the section of Erotic Literature, you stopped.Â
So manyâmanyâwrong choices. Still, humiliated, you paid and fiercely ran out. Maybe this was some sort of punishment for reading what youâre reading; had to be. And Oscar asking questions wasnât helping. Licking your berry lips, you swallow a thick layer. âWhat have you been up to?â
Fuck, he moans, large hand sliding up and down his cock; more and more pleasure intensifying. Your tiny dresses. Your short skirts. Your angelic face. The way your lips would separate before every sentence. Your sweet scent that would have normally given him a headache, but instead made him chase after you like a dog.Â
Finishing all over his thighs, he shudders. White liquid never looked more sinister than at this very moment. After changing, he paces the room with regret.Â
Pushing the frames further into his face, he hums. âOh, you know. Just⊠cleaning up my room.â
-
Itâs been a week in a half now and youâre happy to announce that you have fallen into a routine. While Oscar did his daily workout, you would make breakfast. While you worked on the garden, he cooked dinner. Though, he was unbeknownst over the way you would drool over him when he would walk out the door; a compressed shirt hugging his built body tightly, arms begging to be kissed. You were unaware of the way he would rub his face in desperation when you walked out, banging his head purposefully against the cabinet; the way you would skip out with your book and infamous drink, or how you would prettily tie up your hair before you even got started.
It was a mess.
A mocking mess.
This afternoon though, you arenât flying out the door to the yard, but rather frolicking over to Ms. Alleck, ready to assist. I try my best, but they always wilt! Could it be the humidity? Laughing, you toss your hair up into a bun, messy strands poking out as you cock your head to the side. âCould be, but donât you worry. Weâll find a way to make it work. Promise.â
He had always known you were kind, gentle, soft spokenâŠpure. And you doing this only added to his attraction. Itâs salad, spaghetti, and salmon that afternoon. Sweaty, you pant. Iâm going to squeeze in a shower real quick. But you werenât sweaty, like you believe; you were glistening.Â
âThis is so cute,â you chirp, sitting cross cross in the old treehouse. A few spider webs make your blood run cold, but he quickly took care of it, apologizing. The brunette blushes.Â
âI wanted to use it one last time. Before we get rid of it.â Neat brows furrow. âItâs just that itâs oldâonly a matter of time before it plunges down.â âWhat?âÂ
âO-obviously not now!â
After a bit more convincing, you finally relax and enjoy the way the crickets sing against the night. Small feet press against the wall, white tube socks turning slightly brown from the lack of sweeping. For a moment, he shuts his lids, breaths shallow, body loose. The high temperature almost made him feel as if he was cuddling into the warmest blanket; it felt nice.Â
Whoops, you mumble when hollow glass pounds against the wooden floor. He perks up at the sound, brown eyes burning with high alert. âYou do shit on purpose?â he screeches when he detects scarlet blood. Wincing in pain, you curl your hand towards the hem of your dress.Â
âHelp me,â you plead, slight annoyance written all over your face. He mustâve broken the world record of running into the house to retreat the first aid kit, and running right back to you. The way he sanitizes the skin, to the way he wraps your hand with a gauze pad, is honestly hilarious.
âWhat so funny?â he murmurs, attention never leaving the wound.Â
âMmm. Nothing.â He snickers and you giggle harder. âIt just seems as if Iâm making you a professional. You ought to be ready if anyone else needs your help to treat injuries.â
âOh, of course. Iâll tell them a certain klutz made me learn from day to night with all her clumsiness.â His voice drops, laced with concern. âSeriously thoughâyou were just healing. You have to be careful.â
Plump lips part with the sound of his delicate voice, accent almost disappearing. Wandering eyes admire the way his brows are knitted together and orbs soften. Swallowing, you nod. âI will.â
âGood.â
The once vibrant room is now hazy and suffocating. Does he not know what kind of effect he has on you? The type of power he holds? Oscar doesnât seem to, though, with the way he chugs down his entire glass of water. Stuck in a trance, your hand briskly reaches out for your own drink. He roars with laughter, clutching his stomach. âYou just broke your bottle, you donât have a drink anymore.â He picked up the Cherry Cola you had offered, but he had declined. âTake mine.â
You donât put up a fight, simply allow him to open and give it to you. The sweet drink doesnât do a great job at hydrating your foaming mouth, but it helps as a distraction. On the other hand, the brunette canât seem to not watch the ways your lips suck in and out, eagerly. As if this were the only source of air. He shudders.Â
âWe should probably head downâŠâ
Wiping your lips with the back of your hand, you comply, already standing up. From the floor, he has a good view of your legs; long, soft, sweetly scented. He wonders if you use honey as lotion because that would explain his urge to nuzzle his face against them. Picking up the broken glass and plates, you turn back. âComing?â
A sigh rings through the air once, and suddenlyâheâs cradling your face with high intensity and lust, molding his lips against yours. Tomato sauce stains his shirt and your dress from the plates that still remain between you two. One second, you're wide eyed, and then the next, you're allowing yourself to kiss him back.Â
You want to cry with how pleasant the feeling feels and he wants to scream with how much he wants to fuck you. But alas, one of you pulls away firstâyou canât really tell whoâ and youâre both left gasping for air. Completely winded and fucked.
You both are fucked.
-
The treehouse comes crashing down the day after your first kiss. Yes, first kiss. You would like to blame him and say that he stole it from you, but the arousal that was dripping between your thighs last night was a clear indication that you could never actually say so because you liked it so much.Â
The wooden house tearing down is something you take as a sign; youâve sinned. Okay, maybe that was a bit too dramatic, but you were honestly thinking about it. That night you dreamt of the wildest things imaginable; his pretty face in between your legs, large hands squeezing your perky breasts, fingers swirling inside your velvety walls, cock tearing you in half.
It was unacceptable.Â
So, while Oscar worked on picking up the tiles with a hometown buddy, you marched right over to beg for forgiveness. Kneeling down against the cushion, you say a silent prayer.Â
I donât want to think like thisânot when I know I can help it, but God this is getting way too out of hand. And you know Iâm not like this, you know that! But he justâAGH. Maybe itâs his personality that makes him so attractive, or maybe itâs his sudden growth spurt, but please let me get a hold of myself. Heâs just a friend, heâs just a friendâHEâS JUST A FRIEND.Â
âWould you mind keeping your words to yourself, sweetheart?â an older lady whispers, two rows ahead of you.Â
Pink feathers onto your cheeks. âOh, yes, of course! Iâm so sorryâŠâ
I donât ever ask for much, no, thatâs never been necessary, but I am now. So please. Hear me when I say: Push this desire I have, far, far, far away.
-
If you were to say, there was a ninety percent chance that you would walk away. Not even spare him a passing glance. He would call you out on it later, but whateverâtoo late. Ignored you, you say? No, really I did? I had no idea, Iâll make sure to not let it happen again!
If Oscar were to say, there was a ninety-nine percent chance that he would let you walk away. He didnât need your company; he was doing just fine. But then again, that one percent tugs at him like the devil on his shoulder.
âHey. Youâre back.â Cool. Calm. Collected.
âOh! I suppose I am.â Cool. Utter. Mess.
He grins, eyes crinkling like the leaves that hang upon the crimson tree. Signaling up, he cocks his head in deep thought. âJust finished. Cole said his uncle could shredâŠâ A pause. âHe owns a massive wood chipper.âÂ
Blinking like a deer in headlights, you chew on your bottom lip, simply nodding along. âSounds good? I think. No. Yes. Very good.â You wince at all the uncontrolled mumbo-jumbo. âIâm sorry I was no help, too. I had toâŠtalk to the man up above.â
âEh, donât worry about it. That must be why your pretty little knees are bruised.âÂ
Your breath comes to a harsh halt, ears burning like a wildfire. The Australian just keeps his brown eyes set on the tree for a second longer before turning to face you. Quickly, you relax your muscles. âYou could make up for it by helping me with something else.â
You gulp. Suddenly, your mouth is overflowing with hot saliva. âWith what?â
Dark orbs glue onto your delicate figure, a slight smirk playing out. And it looks so unfamiliar, not his own, that you create a distance. And just like that, itâs gone. Vanished just as fast as it slipped onto his pink lips. âGet on.â He crouches down and your jaw drops.
âWhaâlike onto your shoulders?â Rolling his eyes in a goofy manner, he nods, picks you up safely, and places you on top. You screech, dizzy by the sudden altitude. âPut me down!â
âYouâre fine. Just help me reach those. Been craving them all day,â he murmurs, voice raspy. The twenty-three year old is still slightly sweaty from his hard labor, and thatâs clear when you cling onto his brown locks. Other than that, youâre as high as a kite; both figuratively and literally.Â
Youâve knownâseenâhow tall and broad the Australian was, but being perched onto his wide shoulders was a sweet confirmation you couldnât help but enjoy. âMove a bit forward.â He follows instructions, wide hands gripping onto your thighs to keep you steady. You giggle when a few fruits hit your face. âWatch itâand donât you dare drop me.â
âGet,â he commands.
About three minutes pass by. You rip the cherries carefully, candy aroma filling the air, and plop them onto the basket. By all accounts, youâre well aware of your actions. The basket was full, now overflowing, really, and you could plant your ballet flats back onto the tall grassâbut you donât.
Thereâs something about feeling his touch; high electricity, shock waves nipping at your skin, soft pants. Itâs pathetic how much you crave any ounce of physical touch heâs willing to give you, unknowingly.
âThat should be good,â you whisper, meekly. He doesnât respond, just swings you down as you let out a yelp. All of a sudden, youâre magically magnetic. And he wonders; if only. You hand the basket over, waiting nervously for him to thank you, at least.Â
âThank you,â he feels himself saying. âWhat do you say we play a little game? No prize. Only bragging rights.â
âO-okay.â
A singular cherry is handed over. He grins. Can you tie a knot using your tongue? âWaitâare you being serious?â
The red fruit dissolves inside his mouth, spitting the seed somewhere far enough away. Then, the stem flips into his mouth. âCome on. Iâll give you a head start.â
With wary hands, you rip the stem away from your own drupe, fitting the thin stick into your suddenly dry mouth. He stares intently, clenching his jaw, âGo on. Ten seconds.â Quickly, your lips start to move, twisting and turning. Pouting, then sucking back in. Your low breaths become heavy after a few tries. You think youâre getting it done right, the sudden ball forming is enough for you to guess that you must be doing something correct.Â
The sound of his low mewls is what ends you. Doe eyes flicker up to face him, paying close attention to how his brown eyes wander up at the sky in concentration, occasionally squinting due to the bright sun. You can feel a thin layer of sweat hug you like a blanket as your movements slow down; a snail's pace compared to before.
For good measure, you fake your twists as you continue to simply admire. Too far gone, you blink hastily when he sticks his pink tongue out towards you, a stinking knot sitting nicely atop.
âI won.â
Gulp. âYou sure did. Good job, Oscar.â
Long lashes flutter shut momentarily, head tossed back, sighing. âIt wasnât a fair fight. You werenât doing anything. Other than staring at my lips.â
Flustered, you dig your hand into the bucket. âThatâs not true! At all. At all, at all.â You munch harder, splitting a seed in half. You spit it out sourly. âYou're just better at using your mouth than I am.â
It goes straight to his cock, your words. Opening his eyes, the brunette scrunches his nose. Youâre avoiding his gaze. Youâre good at doing that. A pro. But it leaves him to wonder some more. And that itself was dangerous when it dawned on him.Â
He doesnât like daydreaming anymore.
âFuck it,â he grunts, kissing you harshly, like the night before. And you thought that blew your mind, but this? This left you gasping and reaching out for him even though he was pressed right against you. You could feel him buzzing, pinching your hips against his large hands. Itâs perfect.
You donât really understand how you end up straddling him on the grass, green straining your knees as you grind harder onto him, forcing your skin to burn with each stroke. Thisâthisâmust be as good as it gets. There canât be more, but you werenât complaining. It was enough.Â
When his fingers dance underneath your dress, you halt, and everything comes crashing down. âNo,â you pant. âI canât. Iâm sorry. I really am.â
âWhy is that, baby?â he mumbles, lost on sucking the side of your neck. Looking up, his straight brows drew in together with concern. âWhat is it?â
âItâs just thatâŠIâmââ Why is it so hard to admit? Brushing a strand of hair away, you purse your lips. âIâm a virgin, Oscar. Itâs odd, I know, but I canât sleep with you.â
âYou think I didnât know that?â
You freeze. âWhat?â
His thumbs circle your thighs, gently, swooning with how soft you feel. âI figured you were. Your purity ring sort of gave it away.â You blush hard, rolling off of him, playing with the thin band.Â
âI wish I could do thisâGod, I really want toâbut I canât.â
Respecting your decision, he pats your hand with reassurance. The hot feeling remained between your legs and the pain between his. This was torture, you both know that, but what was there to do? Itâs awkward for a while, that is, until he starts asking you about things that shouldnât make you glow with happiness.
How was your day? I want to hear all about it. Do you think itâs bad to eat an entire bucket of drupes? Must be, right? In the long run? Hey, would you mind teaching me how to garden? You make it look intriguing.Â
That seems to do it for you. Everything you ever promised flies out the window as you climb back onto his thick lap, and this time, heâs surprised by your actions. Clumsy fingers try their best to unzip his pants, but he only stutters against your kisses. N-no, we donât have to rush anything. I, you, weâ
âShit, o-okay,â he sighs when you finally touch him, even in the slightest. He may be touch deprived, but so were you, so how far would any of this go? Flipping you over to lay against the tall grass, he winks teasingly and that effectively makes your heartbeat quicken. âRelax, sweetheart. Do that for me, yeah? Can you?â
âYes. Yes. Yes.âÂ
The McLaren drivers press a kiss on the inside of your thighs before licking them. You shiver, though try your best to even your breaths. You shut your eyes, maybe if you act hard enough, you could somehow convince yourself that this wasnât a war itself. To see how long youâd last. Noâyou would last. You had to.
âIâve thought about it.â He slips your panties down, inch by inch. âA lot, as of lately. If you would taste just as sweet as I imagined. As sweet as those Cherry Colaâs you're overly obsessed with.â And he dives in, licking your arousal clean as you pant, chest heaving up and down like an erupting volcano.Â
What were you supposed to feelârelaxed? In a frenzy? Most likely the latter because considering the way he was making your head spin said it all. The sounds heâs making forces you to involuntarily shut your legs around his face and his hand that now lies between you two. The stretch is a burning sensation that leaves you both gasping and moaning; itâs too much, but not enough.
More. Grinning up from in between your legs, he shakes his head full of curls, all thanks to the Aussie weather, and your dirty foreplay. âDoes it feel good?â You whimper. âGoodâgood, baby. Thatâs all Iâve ever wanted.â Velvet walls clench around his long digits. âHey, hey, look at me.â
Once your soft orbs connect to his intoxicating ones, his cock grows harder. âOkay, listen, itâs going to hurt a little bit, okay? But thatâs completely normal; itâs like aâŠa stingy feeling. Do you understand?â I do, you pant. He grits his teeth when his calloused fingers brush against your g-spot and your head lolls back, exposing your sharp clavicle. He itches to mark you all over. âDo you want it, then?â
A zing. âFuck, Oscar. I fucking want you.â
The brown eyed boy is all over you, kissing you up and down, gripping you tighter. It was an addiction in its truest form. For a split second, you frown when he slips out of you, but as soon as he starts unzipping his pants, you feverishly lick your lips.Â
It dawns on you that you arenât scared, nervous, or anything; youâre bubbling with excitement. You watch carefully as he jerks himself off a bit, his already large girth growing bigger. How is that possible? âIâll start with the tip.â Leaning down, he pecks your pouty lips and you smile. âLet me know if itâs too much, weâll stop and take a break. Or do anything, really,â he adds, cheekbones flushing red.Â
âIâll be okay,â you whisper. âI swear.â
You were being skinned alive, it was excruciating pain. You know he notices it when he starts brushing your hips, hoping to comfort you in some sort of way. Heavy breaths, numb lips from biting too hard, exposed breasts arching straight for him. He didnât know whether to enjoy this or worry.Â
âBreathe, darling, breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth. There you go,â he congratulates, admiring your shaky breath. âYouâre doing so good.â
âOsc, moveâŠplease.â
There was no more confirmation necessary that you were ready to go. His hips find motion, thrusting into you slowly. Nails scratch down his back as you moan loudly, almost yelping. âY-youâre so big.â So, so, so, so big. Â âSo good.â
Nearly animalistic, he releases a grunt, pounding deeper into you, getting lost with the way you hug him tightly. You mewl, pressing your naked chest against his, and he nearly slips from his hands being set on top of the cold grass, but it was beautiful torture, all at once.Â
From the way you tremble, to the way you look up at him, he loves it all. He realized it been too long, heâs missed this, heâs missed having a body undeaneath his, as fucked up as that sounds.Â
And heâhe must be a saint, himself. Thereâs a sort of invisible halo that lightens up around him, nearly blinding you. Thereâs a gut-wrenching stare heâs gifting you, making your stomach churn with pleasure.Â
Wrapping his mouth around your sore buds, you let out a shaky sigh. Skillful tongue swirls the way one would suck on a lollipop; the heat intensifies. âClose?â But youâre not sure, you just know it feels goodâridiculously good. He must have known so, and must want to make your first experience the best youâll ever have, because suddenly, youâre on all fours.Â
As he slips in and out with such ease, you grip harshly at the tall grass. You can hear the sad rips with every thrust and every tug, but how can you feel bad when he feels so good? His cock rapidly brushes the magic spot, and youâre left seeing stars. âOh God. I feel it, Oscar, fuck, fuck, fuckââ
âTell me. Describe it.â
Your jaw locks, and your arms give up, flying down towards the grass, round ass high up in the air as he continues his movements. He groans at the sight, slapping your sweaty skin. Whining, you look back at him, grinning from ear to ear. The Australian looks up at the open sky, trying his best to push back the feeling of his upcoming orgasm, but it's hard to ignore the fact that an absolute angel takes him like no other.
And an Angel you were.
âCan feel your cock, Oscar. The way it pulsesâso thick, so veiny, so sweet.â
An Angel with a vocabulary of Heathen.
âGod, fuck me harder, please, Oscar, please.â Heâs pretty sure youâre half-gone, half-present, but it only adds to the lust he carries for you. Just then, you feel the fresh cherry pressed up against your lips. Open, he demands and you follow straight away, ripping it from its stem. You nearly choke on the seed when he suddenly speeds up, limbs and arms burning from holding upright. For a moment, you stare back with an open mouth, admiring over the way his abs contract with every brutal push.
âNow spit.â Two seeds fly out towards the grass, laying there to taunt you as you pick up on your moans, ringing through the air. If you squint hard enough, you can spot the stars that mock the daylight sky. It doesnât make sense, but then again, none of this does. âSo pretty, sweetheart.â You swoon, feeling his arms hold you down. âAgainâopen.â
Youâre expecting another set of cherries, thinking this might be some sort of prize, but as soon as you feel the familiar stick, you pout. No, you cry out. He chuckles. âYes.â A pause. âYou only get to come until you tie a knot.â
âYouâre not being f-fair, holy shit.â Long fingers rub slowly against your puffy clit, throbbing with pain, begging to come all of his numbing girth. You clench your jaw, eyes screwed shut.
âWe donât have all night, go on. Move that pretty little mouth of yours.â
Itâs a mission, itâs a task, itâs a fucking wreck. Itâs impossible. Youâre not that surprised, though, not when he thrusts into with twice as much force, triple speed; what a man. Loose tongue swirls at a weak attempt, but then he pinches your swollen bud, and youâre back to square one. Youâre nearly there, excited to prove to him how much you wanted this and how you were able to multitask, but then heâs pulling all the way back, only his rosy tip awaiting by your entrance, and heâs coming back down, full-throttle.Â
It was cruel.
But two can play that game, you suppose.
You pull away quickly, he blinks, and then youâre pushing him back, sprawled on the grass. He nearly whines from missing your warm cunt, but as soon as you climb to sit on his face, he grows more and more turned on. âGo on,â you push. âUse that pretty little tongue of yours.â
Dark eyes stare up at you, enjoying the way your body moves, hips rolling, riding his face at an impressive rate. The white nectar you're willing to spill out makes him lap at an embarrassing speed, desperate to taste the sweetness.Â
Meanwhile, youâre gripping his hair, trying to feign indifference with the way his nose rubs against your lips, the way he keeps you in place with his watch covered hand, the other playing with your clit. Itâs even, this is fair, but you still needed to reach your end.Â
âIâm close,â you moan, head rolling back, but jaw continuing to tick. He hums and the vibrations cause you to squeeze your legs around his face. That seems to make him enjoy this far more. Unless you show me youâve done it, then no, youâre not coming anytime soon. Your molars grind harder, white spots forming throughout your vision. âShut up, justâfucking stop talking.â
âWhat do yâknow? Miss Perfection has a potty mouth.â He pokes his tongue against your hole. âDirty girl, eh?â
With one final suck, and one soft moan, you cum all over him. The Australian is quick to lick you clean, groaning pathetically deep. Gasping, you fall from your climax, slightly twitching with sensibility as he hauls you onto his lap. You giggle when he raises a teasing brow.Â
âYou got away with itâthis time.â
âThereâs going to be a second time?â
He stiffens, trying to play it cool. âWell, not anymore, you didnât do what I asked for you to doââ
Opening your mouth, you stick your red tongue out, displaying the most perfect knot. He gapes, sticking his fingers in to retrieve it. âH-how?â A beat, sharp and accusing eyes. âSeriously, how?â
âDoes it matter?â you ask, wide eyes back on for show. âI did it.â
âIâŠyeah, yeah you did,â he repeats in disbelief. He laughs. âYouâre wickedly talented. That's an art.â
âThanks,â you mumble, slowly, mixed with a giggle. âI tried my best for you.â
âI see that.â The brown eyed boy pinches your hip. âHow was it?â
Sighing dreamily, as if napping on a cloud, your eyes twinkle. âI get it now. Why people have casual sex, I mean. It was amazing. Thank you.â
Casual, casual, casual, yes. Of course this was casual, why wouldnât it be casual? Heâs not looking to have anyone new in his life, and youâre barely understanding what any of this is, so yeah. Casual.Â
âWas I bad?â you ponder, chewing on your bottom lip. âI know Iâm no professional, but Iââ
âYou were perfect,â he reassures with a soft smile. âBest thing to come around, solemnly swear.â Swatting his arm, he snickers, catching your hand. You purse your lips. âI was right,â he murmurs when his lips graze over your own. You open your mouth, waiting for more.
âAbout?â
âYou tasting as sweet as a Cherry Cola.â Then he connects your lips, and youâre left utterly smitten. You can hardly feel him slip your ring off, but you know so when your finger feels empty since the moment you first put it on. âGuess you wonât be needing this anymore?â
âGuess not, no. Keep it.â
âCould take it to a Pawn Shop, sell it for a couple dollarsâŠâ
âHey! Be nice, you dimwit,â you warn. âYou should feel special. Stupidly special.â
âIâm kidding. Iâll cherish it.â
âCreep.â
He groans, slapping your ass as you squeal. âThereâs no right or wrong answer, it seems like. Very well, let's just leave it at thanks. SoâŠthank you for trusting me.â You blush, looking away. Awkwardly, you reach for your dress, slipping it over your head. He coughs, dressing himself before choking back a much needed chuckle. âLooks like we got dragged through the mud.â
âAh, ew, I canât. I need to shower.âÂ
Reaching your end of the hallway, you press your back up against the wooden door as you sheepishly giggle when Oscar does the same. âOkay thenâŠsee you around?âÂ
âAround town?â
âAround the house.â
âIn the garden?â
âIn the attic, too, maybe. It still needs a good sweep.â
He rolls his eyes. âDo we still have time?â
âBefore your parents get back from Costa Rica?â
âYes.â
âWhich is inââ
âA week.â
âWhich isââ
âSeven days.â
âAnd roughlyâŠâ
âEnough time.â
âEnough time to do what?â
He laughs, eyes crinkling suggestively, and your heart pounds hard against your ribcage. âCome here and Iâll show you.â
âYeah,â you ponder in deep thought before your lips stretch out into a bright smile of your own. He raises dark brows as you scurry over with bruised knees, a muddy dress, and an exploding heart. âYeah, okay. Just until they get back.â
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TLDR: Francesca Bridgerton is Autistic. Fight me.
Okay so I did not go into Season 3 of Bridgerton expecting to have any feelings about Francesca Bridgerton. We have seen her only in glimpses in the show and I have not read the books, so I knew basically nothing about her before binging the first four episodes.
But guys. GUYS. I will die for this autistic queen.
Okay, so starting with first impressions. We know that on her big day, Francesca went out of her way to avoid her nosy, loud family by having a very early, quiet breakfast by herself and then calming down via playing the piano (clearly a special interest of hers).
In her first balls, we see Francesca light up any time she talks about music (clearly her current or forever special interest) but as soon as men try to take it to a flirting place she IMMEDIATELY shuts down. It's clear that even as she states very matter-of-factly that she plans to marry this season, she also is baffled and uncomfortable any time someone tries to actually, ya know, court her.
At one of her first shindigs, she got attention and then went up to her brother and (while making almost no eye contact) told him (rather than asked him) that she needed a sec.
She then sat by herself in the side of the ballroom.
Later on, she left a ball in search of quiet and solitude to fix her sensory overload, so she went outside this time. (A thing that we know from pervious seasons is a HUGE no-no, particularly unchaperoned. But she was very respectfully near the door so maybe that's fine?) The point is that she cares very much about staying respectable so she can get this marriage thing over with and get people to stop perceiving her, yet she risks some scandal by going outside just so she can be somewhere quiet alone.
Enter: this absolute (also autistic) Prince Charming.
He says hello (so she knows he's not like trying to sneak up on her in the dark like a creep) and then just stands there. 10/10, no notes, best way to flirt I have ever seen in my life.
Seriously just look at this. I'm in love. Never before has there been a greater sign of love at first sight than in this "standing politely five feet apart in total silence in the middle of a ball and enjoying each other's company."
I need to go watch these first four episodes about a hundred more times, but I THINK this might be the first sincere smile we see from Francesca??!? I at least got the impression immediately that this is the first time she's felt genuinely comfortable and happy while not entirely alone this season.
Like, these nerds did not even exchange names. They barely exchanged a word. Yet you can see them falling head over heels in love right there in that moment. I don't even LIKE love at first sight tropes and they have my whole heart. They are the only exception.
Then, of course, you have this second absolutely iconic Scene of Silence where the entire Bridgerton family stares in neurotypical confusion a these two amazing weirdos. The way these two do not know each other but they DO know each other. The way they are both so happy and so comfortable but also still playing the whole society game the way they were told they had to?? I just don't have words right now.
LOOK AT HER SMILE, GUYSSSSSSSS.
Look how happy this tiny, silent moment is making her. How she understands immediately what he's doing and is absolutely delighted to participate too even knowing her entire family is hardcore judging them from not that far away.
And then you get this smug little look from him and it's like you can see his autistic ass thinking, "Yes. I calculated correctly. This was the correct romance option. Gold star to me." (Okay, maybe that's just how my brain works but shhhhh)
Which, of course, brings us to this absolutely hilariously awkward ND attempt at flirting. We start off with some fairly normal "whoops, I'm flustered cause you make me nervous" sort of moments, but notice how little eye contact she makes. How she only looks in his eyes very briefly and it seems like she almost has to remind herself to do so when she's doing the "polite" answers (OR later when she's genuinely interested in a topic).
So as soon as Francesca is like "oh shit, I ruined it. I forgot how to neurotypical. It's over" then she loses patience with the practiced social niceties.
I spent like 30 minutes trying to find a GIF and I should already be asleep so I'm not going to go learn how to make one BUT I needed to look up exactly what happens next cause it's basically the most autistic thing I've ever seen.
WHICH IS that in response to the second awkward silence after Francesca shares all of this, John's response is, "That is helpful. If you'll excuse me."
Then dude bro just WALKS AWAY WITHOUT ANOTHER WORD.
Like it would be awkward anyway but now Francesca thinks she misread a social cue so she's feeling sad, and meanwhile this absolute king is over here on a romantic mission no one asked him to do because he is that set on showing her he's listening and cares.
The man shows up at the ball and as soon as he had a paper we were all screaming "he wrote her a song!!!"
Again, notice the eye contact (or lack thereof). I think with period dramas and women, it's easy to just go "oh she's just shy" or "she's just being demure like she's supposed to" but like NO. This girl does not want to meet anyone's eyes.
Until she does. Because in moments where she's talking about music or enjoying quiet, it's worth it to purposefully meet his eyes and see how he's feeling too. To make sure he can see she's happy.
ANYWAY, it was so much better than him writing a song for her.
SO. MUCH. BETTER.
Because he didn't just give her any ol' music. He sought out the music they'd specifically heard in the street, and he took her exact specifications on what was "wrong" with the music, and he FIXED IT. He then put the whole thing on sheet music and handed her a copy with no further explanation than this.
Our autistic lass was so excited she basically sprinted out of that ball so she could find a piano. (Which, the fact that she does this rather than try to stay and flirt/dance with the man who just gave her this incredible gift ALSO says a lot, just saying. Daphne could never.)
So our girl finds a piano and GUYS. LOOK AT HOW HAPPY SHE IS.
I'm pretty sure this woman would accept a proposal right this second. Maybe make one herself. She is so head over heels in love with this man that it's absurd. We have watched her mask in these first four episodes, but the last two where she's interacting with John are the first times she seems genuinely happy and like the real her is shining through.
Like, does she enjoy her family? Sure. But it's obvious (and she even tells us) that she finds them overwhelming and generally to be A Lot. But these scenes? This gesture?
You can just get how seen she feels. How weird and wild and amazing it is to her that this man can see who she actually is and wants to join her there instead of making her play some part of the perfect Bridgerton who likes to be the center of attention.
(And even here - the EYE CONTACT. She glances at people when she's talking to them, but the way she looks at the sheet music is so much more intense and intimate and personal than anytime she's looking at the average person in the show. She still even in places she's most comfortable, such as sitting at the piano, makes very little eye contact and only at very specific moments.)
Anyway I'm going to sleep now but I'm sure I'll add more thoughts as they come to me. Feel free to add your own case for why Francesca is autistic and/or otherwise neurodivergent. I want to hear allllllll the thoughts.
#francesca bridgerton#bridgerton#bridgerton season 3#bridgerton spoilers#bridgerton s3#john stirling#bridgerton netflix#bridgerton season three#Francesca is Autistic#Autism#Autistic
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Dad!James Potter x Fem!Reader ⌠946 words
The way I'm thinking I need to have a universe for these two
âHeâs precious! He looks just like his daddy.â Miriam gushes, leaning in closer to Henry. James cringes as his baby boy flinches away, burying his head into his fatherâs chest and eyeing the woman with uncertainty. Henry's tiny hands clutch Jamesâs shirt, seeking comfort and protection from the unfamiliar face.
James knows Miriam from school, but they have never been close. She has always been the life of the party, a role he once embraced during their Hogwarts days. Now, her enthusiasm feels overwhelming, especially to his shy and sensitive son. Perhaps he has mellowed more than he realizes since thenâhaving a child at 20 would surely do that to you.
Miriam straightens up, placing a manicured hand on his bicep. With a slight pout to her lips, she says softly, âI heard about what happened to you and his mum. It must have been devastating.â
James tenses, his gaze shifting nervously to the store entrance, where he hopes Sirius, Remus, and you will hurry with their shopping and rescue him from this unwelcome conversation. The thought of discussing his ex, who left him and their son behind because she wasn't ready for motherhood, fills him with a mix of frustration and anger. The memory of her sudden departure still stings, and he isnât eager to relive those painful moments, especially with someone he barely knows.
âYeah, itâs been tough, but weâre doing just fine without her,â James replies, his tone steady but strained. He takes a deep breath, summoning the courage to gently suggest that Miriam give them some space. âAnyway, Miriamââ
âThatâs so unfortunate that he doesnât have a mum in his life,â Miriam continues, her lashes fluttering flirtatiously at him. James immediately grasps where she is going with this. Itâs not the first time his role as a father has attracted unwanted advances, but her bold approach leaves him momentarily stunned. If she had asked him out directly, it might have been differentâthough he doubts it would have made much of a difference.
âMiriam! Still hitting on unavailable men?â Siriusâs voice rings out with a teasing edge. James turns to see Sirius and Remus emerging from the store. Remus is scanning the receipt but looks up, startled at Siriusâs voice. You must still be browsing in the store.
âUnavailable?â Miriam repeats, her eyebrows raising in surprise. James canât help but question the same thing, the word echoing in his mind.
âVery much so,â Sirius says with a firm nod as he and Remus come to stand beside James. Remus shoots Miriam a polite hello, but his expression reflects his lingering dislike for her from their school days.
âI didnât know you were with someone,â Miriam mumbles, and James thinks about clarifying that he didnât know it either.
The bell above the shop door chimes, announcing someoneâs departure. Jamesâs reaction to your voice is immediate and revealing; his eyes brighten, and his posture straightens as he turns to you. Itâs clear from his response that he is deeply enamored with you.
And it isnât just James. His son mirrors his fatherâs excitement. The little boyâs eyes light up with the same warmth, and he reaches out eagerly toward you. Henry babbles what sounds remarkably like âmama,â his tiny arms outstretched in an unmistakable plea for you to hold him. James hopes you donât catch what his son is trying to say.
Your sweet voice rings out, âJamie, I know you said not to spoil him, but they had the most adorable knit sweaterââ You trail off, blinking in surprise as you notice Miriamâs disapproving gaze, her brow furrowed in irritation. You come to a stop next to James, missing the way his son is staring you down.
âYou bought him another sweater?â Remus asks, his tone a mix of surprise and amusement. You shoot him a halfhearted glare, silently reminding him that he shouldnât be commenting on it.
âHi, Miriam. How have you been?â You greet her with a warm smile, though a hint of unease tugs at you. Miriamâs gaze feels unusually intense, leaving you slightly unsettled. You recall that you both got on well in school, so youâre unsure what might have shifted between you.
âGood. Itâs been ages since Iâve seen you all, Jamie and I were just talking aboutââ Miriam trails off, her gaze fixed on James as he smoothly takes the shopping bag from you, allowing you to take Henry. Had you been fully listening, you wouldâve frowned at the use of your nickname for James.
The transition is so effortless that itâs clear itâs well-practiced. You settle Henry comfortably on your hip, deftly rummaging through your purse until you find a pacifier. You gently pop it into his mouth, and Henryâs head droops onto your shoulder as he begins to suck contentedly, letting out a sigh that suggests heâs found his perfect spot.
Jamesâs gaze is lovesick as he watches you. His heart catches in his throat as he sees you effortlessly produce a pacifier for his son. Heâs well aware that your purse likely holds other baby essentials, even if youâd deny it. As he observes you, his thoughts drift, overwhelmed by the profound realization that Henry has a mum in his lifeâ you.
Youâre so focused on settling Henry that you donât even notice Miriamâs silence, and James, so absorbed in you, is barely aware of her presence. You smile up at him while gently rocking his son, and James thinks, This is it. I have everything Iâve ever wanted.
Miriam turns to Sirius with a lowered voice, âI thought they were just friends. They were in school.â
âThey were never just friends. Y/n has always been Jamesâs weakness. Now sheâs his sonâs too.â
please reblog or comment with your thoughts! they are very appreciated and keep me motivated to keep writing! đ€
Dad!James and Bsf!Reader Masterlist
#james potter oneshot#james potter x reader#dad!james potter#dad!james potter x reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter fic#james potter imagine#james potter fanfiction#james potter blurb#james potter fluff#james potter x you#james potter x y/n#james potter#james potter baby blurb#marauders fluff#marauders fanfiction#the marauders era
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àłàż SAVAGE BONDS part 2 ă feyd rautha x atreides!reader ă
summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.
warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking.
word count: 4.5k
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Legs tangled in gray sheets. The lightning-quick flash of a silver dagger, held by a pale hand.
The images in the dream are more like fragments- impossible to discern and decipher. On the bed, asleep and vulnerable. . .
Thereâs you.
And then Feyd wakes up, heart hammering in his chest so hard he can feel it in his throat. Slowly his fingers crawl up, up, up the expanse of the bed in search of something. In search of warmth, of you. Nothing. Heâs just as alone in his room as he was when he drifted off into sleep. He lays awake the rest of the night, tossing and turning with worry.
This dream felt more like a warning than just another disjointed nightmare. It felt real. He was used to having dreams every now and again which clearly depicted a future outcome. He saw you in his dreams quite often, more so once he was no longer a boy-child.
If someone thought to hurt you⊠heâd just have to hurt them first.
The customs you and your people practiced were completely different to those that were normal on Geidi Prime. You watched one of your ladies-in-waiting as she brought over another small bowl of sweet smelling bath salts, dumping it in and using her hand to properly dissolve them. For a moment you felt self conscious, running your fingers through your hair as you looked at their perfect complexions and shaved heads. What did they see when they looked at you? Someone beautiful and strange. . . or an alien?
Still, you would eventually have to disrobe and bathe. Pressing your luck and refusing their help would only solidify your place as an outsider. You were sure that whispers of your arrival were already spreading like wildfire, and it was almost guaranteed that no one was happy about it. An Atreides amongst Harkonnenâs? You were nothing more than a pariah on their industrial wasteland of a planet.
The air was even more acrid in your lungs than it had been the night before, and while the smell of the rose body oils and salts were thick and hazy in your room, you could still catch the scent of pollution. Already you missed the cool, crisp air of Caladan. You missed your horses, your parents and your brother to the point of pain. This was not where you belonged. Not here in Geidi Prime. Not here with Feyd-Rautha.
The urge to cry yourself hoarse was practically undeniable, and yet you somehow managed to resist. You were late to breakfast already, and surely the Baron was making some unsavory comments about your family and their taught âmannersâ. So you untied the front of your nightdress and shimmied out of it, letting the soft cotton pool at the ground beneath your feet. The women couldnât help but gawk at the tiny imperfections they saw there- a beauty mark youâd had since you were a child, a scar youâd received while training with Gurney. You werenât used to feeling so self conscious, and so you were quick to grab one of the womenâs extended hands so that you could sit down in the murky bath water.
They rubbed floral smelling soaps into your hair and on your skin, making sure to handle you as though you were as fragile as porcelain. You wished they would scrub you raw. Even then they wouldnât be able to cleanse you of your fears. You were in the hands of the Harkonnenâs now.
No one could save you.
âWe are not very used to styling hair, my lady. It might not be to your liking.â One of the women said anxiously. The way that her hands shook as she gripped the hairbrush was not lost on you.
How cruelly were they treated here? Or even worse- what did she think of the Atreides family? What lies had they poisoned these peopleâs impressionable minds with? You didnât care to dwell too much on such thoughts. Reaching out you gently removed the brush from her hands, flashing her the kindest smile you could muster before shaking your head.
âLeave this to me then. Why donât you pick something for me to wear from my things?â Your bags were still packed, lying exactly where a few servants had laid them last night. You had denied every offer to have them unpacked for you.
Denial. You refused to believe that you were actually stuck here. This would never be your home. It couldnât be.
âHeâs not here,â Feyd was sitting at a long, slate-gray table by himself. The food on his plate had barely been touched, but he had busied himself with chopping the meat up into miniscule pieces, too small to even fit on the prongs of his fork. âIf you were planning on trying to make a good impression, you can forget about it. He always has his food sent to his quarters.â
You thanked the two ladies that had shown you through the colorless halls under your breath, moving to sit on the other side of the table. At least eight chairs separated you from the Na-baron and it still wasnât enough. You wished you were on an entirely different planet, lightyears away from the Harkonnen scum.
The room was practically empty aside from the large dining room table. No art decorated the walls or rugs to cover the floor. It was all cold, black marble with white accents.
âI donât care, actually.â And you were being truthful. You didnât care about getting on the Baronâs good side any more than you cared about getting on Feydâs.
He smiled then, staring at you long and hard before licking one of his black painted canines. He was amused by the blase way you brushed off his uncle so easily. Indifference wasnât something he was used to, especially not when everyone in the galaxy had tried so hard to get on their good sides. People tended to tread lightly as far as the Harkonnens were concerned. They were as wealthy as they were cunning.
âBe careful, little Atreides. Saying things like that might get you hurt around here.â His gruff voice was but a whisper now, and suddenly you felt as though there werenât twelve feet of dead-air separating the two of you.
You had picked up your fork, ready to eat whatever bland food had been prepared for you, but froze at his words. Heat rose to your cheeks and you were quick to lean back in the ornate high-backed chair, the cool iron seeping into your back through your clothes.
âDo you mean to threaten me?â Your words were icy, tongue sharp and ready to give him a proper lashing.
âItâs not a threat, darling.â He was practically purring, reveling in the joy of referring to you whilst using a pet name. It suddenly looked as though a switch had been turned on, his eyes narrowing on you. âI know him far better than you do. Heâs killed people for far less. Be careful.â There seemed to be something he wasnât telling you. There was genuine warning in his tone.
A pause.
âPlease.â And then he went back to eating.
So were you supposed to act gutted at his uncleâs absence? You picked up the fork and took a bite of whatever had been put on your plate. It wasnât at all what you were used to. Even the food tasted. . . fake. The meat tasted like it had been pumped full of chemicals and was mealy in your mouth, like sand. Still, you swallowed despite your distaste and shoved the plate away from you.
âWho have you assigned to be my sparring partner? Iâm sure that my father made your uncle aware that I train daily, correct?â If you didnât physically exert yourself and blow off some steam then you were bound to get no sleep tonight.
Last night you had tossed and turned, unable to stay asleep when your body was constantly alerting you to possible dangers. Even now you were on high alert, eyes locked on the knife that sat on the right side of Feydâs plate. Your own fingers danced towards yours it you watched. Waited. Worried.
âTraining?â He tilted his head again, eyes narrowed in disbelief. You could almost see the cogs turning as he mulled over your words. âWhat good would training do you now? If there are any threats then I am here to protect you- thatâs my duty as your husband.â
Ah, yes. Why would a woman train when she could just sit back and play the part of a perfect little wife instead? You could spit.
âWould you rather I just hunt down one of your servants and kill him for sport?â You hated that he was so good at getting a reaction out of you. Maybe you were acting too much like a brat, but you wanted to see him squirm. Seeing him mad must be better than seeing him. . . like this.
For a second he sat there, arms perched nonchalantly over the armrests of his chair, staring at you with a crooked smile. You jumped in surprise when a chuckle escaped him, the act itself so out of place, so surprising that all you could do was stare in horror. The chuckles soon morphed into frenzied laughter, and he was quick to lean back in his seat so that he could place a hand on his chest.
âWas that funny to you?â You spoke through gritted teeth.
He watched the muscle in your jaw clench and unclench with wild eyes, sucking in a deep breath in the hopes of calming himself. Still, to hear such a beautiful woman speak such hideous words. . . it was wonderful, bordering on perverted.
âIf you do kill a servant, please make sure Iâm there to watch.â
He was too busy watching your face to notice the knife that you slid into the sleeve of your dress. With a huff you stood up, your skirts dryly brushing along the ground as you started to make your way out of the large room.
âI require a trainer.â You tried to mimic your motherâs tone, straightening your shoulders as you turned to look at him.
Lady Jessica always had a way of commanding a room. She was powerful, your mother. You needed to channel that same power now.
âYouâll train with me then,â He stood up from the table, the height and build of him alone nearly causing you to take a step back. Youâd forgotten how large he was. How formidable. âConsider it a wedding gift.â
This had you balking, mouth opening and closing as you tried to think of some way to refuse. He was already stalking past you though, ignoring whatever retorts you were bound to make.
âI recommend getting changed. . . Unless you want me to tear that dress to shreds.â
That awful, ugly, no good-Â
âBastard!â You whispered under your breath, wadding up your dress just to angrily toss it onto your bed.Â
You sank to your knees, braiding your fingers into your hair so that you could give it a few good yanks. He was doing this to fuck with your head. All of this was calculated on his part, it had to be. Was it all just to get a rise out of you? Or did he truly want to try and hurt you? You couldnât figure him out, and that boiled your blood. All Harkonnens were cunning, blood thirsty schemers. You wouldnât put it past him to be unhappy with the marriage arrangement, choosing to resort to violence in order to end things.Â
âNow. Now is the time to strike.âÂ
Youâd already hidden the blade under the mattress of the bed. The Baron wouldnât allow you to live if you killed his precious nephew, but youâd much rather put up some sort of a fight than be put down like a dog. After taking a few steadying breaths you somehow managed to pull on your trousers and shirt, your mind plagued with dangerous, dangerous thoughts. If the moment called for it you were certain that you could not kill Feyd in hand to hand combat. His skills with a blade was well known across the galaxy, and while you were more than able to defend yourself, you werenât delusional enough to think that you could manage to beat him without using underhanded tactics.Â
Youâd have to wait until his guard was lowered.Â
âDo all women take this long to get ready?âÂ
You hadnât heard the door open, nor his footsteps approaching. Who knew how long he had been watching you. The intrusion was an unwelcome one. You looked up to glare at him, trying hard not to balk at his appearance. The clothes he wore were skin tight, a black material that caught the dim lighting- like it was made of pitch black oil. His pants were tucked into big black boots, laced up high on his calf.Â
He stretched his arms up, leaning against the doorframe so that he could continue his awkward staring.Â
He did a lot of that it would seem. Any time you turned your head to face him you found that he was already looking in your direction. It was odd. . . off putting to say the least. Of course you couldnât know that he was currently tracing the lines of your face with his eyes, committing every detail to memory. You were so different when he compared you to the females that he was used to seeing. You were all soft lines, long lashes and doe eyes. He found it impossible not to look at you. Gorgeous⊠you were gorgeous.Â
âIt took me a while to get out of my dress on my own.âYou shoved your way past him in the doorway, his chest warm under your palms.Â
You were quick to jerk away, startled by the fact that this was the first time that youâd touched him since the two of you had reunited.Â
You didnât hate the feel of him, but you should have.Â
âThen you should have asked for some help.â He said, reaching out to grab you by the back of your shirt when you started to walk off in the wrong direction.Â
Feyd pulled you along like he would a pet on a leash through the triangular halls, ignoring your mumbled curses as you tried swatting him away.Â
The shield vibrated in your ears as you switched on the button, enveloping you in its warmth.Â
You used to find it uncomfortable as a child, the tight, foreign warmth triggering a mild case of claustrophobia. You were used to it now, wearing it like a second skin. You waited for Feyd to turn his on as well, the blade clutched tight in your palm.Â
You waited. And waited. And waited.Â
âWhereâs your shield?â You asked him, motioning towards his hip with your free hand.Â
There it was, that crooked smile again. He was laughing at you. Was he trying to infer that you were weak? Was he so confident in his skills that he didnât even see you as a threat? Â
âI donât see the nee-â He didnât get very far.Â
You kicked your leg out, catching the back of his right knee. His legs buckled, and he was quick to adjust himself, his left arm flying up to catch your wrist before you could sink the blade home. For a split second the two of you just stared at each other. Mild shock in his eyes, your own alight with an anger so consuming that you feared you might be burnt up with it. He gave your arm a sharp tug, hard enough that the joint rolled uncomfortably in its socket.Â
You kicked your leg out before he could throw you over his shoulder, landing a sharp blow to his ribs. You heard him let out a pained moan before you hit the ground. Using your weight to your advantage, you tucked your body in, rolling to the side so that you could easily stand up to your knees, blade poised at your side and ready for an attack.Â
âYou fight well, Atreides.â Feyd purred, spinning his blade between two fingers before letting it fall back into his pale palm.Â
âTurn on your shield.â You growled, rising to your full height so that you could begin circling him, a panther ready to pounce.Â
âWas it Duke Leto that trained you?â Still, he was ignoring your statement.Â
âNo.âÂ
âNo, of course it wasnât him,â He took a step closer to you, eyeing you down. No one had looked at you like that before. . . and it made your skin crawl. You didnât want to be desired by this man, the thought alone was miserable enough to have bile rising in your throat. âYour father is too weak-spirited to ever train you himself, lest he accidentally harm you.âÂ
Your heart was beginning to pound in your ears now, vision tunneling. All you could see was Feyd. All you could imagine was the blade that you were currently white-knuckling sunk hilt deep into his chest.Â
âHow horrible it must be for Caladan to have a Duke so. . . spineless.âÂ
You bared your teeth, and for a second you were sure that you would snap the hilt in half with how hard you were gripping your blade. You demanded blood for such an insult. How dare he. How dare he.Â
âI should cut out your tongue!â You screamed, pointed the blade at him.Â
âDonât come any closerâ you urged with your eyes, feeling the angry tears causing your vision to fog. A Harkonnen was insulting your father. He was insulting your family and now he was smiling at you. The bastard had the gall to smile and this time all of his teeth were showing. Wide, unabashed in his joy. He was terrifying. So much so that you felt your legs begin to shake underneath you.Â
âBut youâll want to put this tongue to good use eventually.â His gravelly voice purred.Â
âSilence!â And before you could even control yourself you were using the Voice.Â
You might not be as talented as your brother when it came to hand to hand combat, but your mother had taken the time to teach you well. Feydâs mouth snapped shut so hard that you heard his teeth clatter together.Â
âOne more word and I will gut you.â Your voice shook and before you could rethink your actions you were lunging forward, the blade cutting through the air. . .Â
Aimed at his throat.Â
He was quick to push your arm away with his forearm, and even with the shield up you could feel the bone shattering pressure he put behind the movement. He was stronger than Paul- stronger than even Gurney. He took advantage of the fact that you were put off balance and grabbed a fist full of hair, the shield around you flashing red as he pressed his blade as close as he could to the base of your throat. Your scalp exploded in pain, eyes watering as he gripped harder to yank your head back so that you were staring directly into his eyes. They held no malice towards you, even despite the fact that you were obviously trying to maim him.Â
And then he leaned in closer. And closer.
âIf I didnât know any better then I would think that you were actually trying to kill me.â He whispered against the shell of your ear. You could practically feel the warmth of his lips against your skin as he spoke, your heart roaring in your ribcage. With your chests practically touching like this you could smell him.
 Youâd only caught the scent of spice once in your life- and it was akin to bitter cinnamon. There was something else though, something more complex to it. Aromatic spices you couldnât quite put your fingers on and. . . the natural musk of his skin.Â
âSo you can speak again?â You managed to tease him through your pain, wincing as he brought you even closer against his chest. The blade that you clutched in your hand was now pressing against his side, the pointed edge digging into his skin.Â
He didnât wince, even when you put more pressure against it.Â
âYou think it wise to use the Voice on me in my own home, little girl?â He hissed as he pulled away from your ear, and the fire that was in your eyes was now mirrored in his own.Â
Slowly you moved the blade away from him, the metallic clanging echoing around the room as you let it fall to the floor. Your palm hurt from the vice-like grip you had been holding it in.Â
âRelease me now.â You didnât shy away from staring into his eyes, unwavering even when he pressed the blade even tighter, the shield vibrating louder and louder around you.Â
He leaned in, even when your hands moved to press against his chest, willing him to give you space. You could barely breathe with him this close to you. His own knife clattered to the ground, and using his free hand he ripped the shield from off of your hip. The gasp that escaped your lips was uncontrollable. You could feel his breath on your lips as his eyes continued to swallow you up whole.Â
They looked even bluer when you were up close like this, framed by long black lashes. For a split second you wondered what had become of that beautiful little boy you had met. Had Baron Vladmir beaten the beauty out of him? Or perhaps it had never truly been there to begin with.Â
When Feyd looked at you, up close like this, all he saw was the object of his ever-present affections. Something yawned to life in his chest- the need to protect. All at once he felt wrong, disgusting and horrible for causing you any sort of pain.Â
But you looked so lovely with those tears in your eyes. So much so that he gave your hair another small yank, a shuddered breath escaping his lips as you yelped in pain. He saw the hate in your eyes and he detested it.Â
âFear meâ he silently urged. âLove me, do as I say and I will become your slave.âÂ
His lips brushed against yours, achingly slow- painfully soft.Â
âI yield.â You were quick to say, pulling as far back as you could even with the grip he had on your hair.Â
Fire. Your scalp felt like it was on fire.Â
And then he released you, taking a step back with a heaving chest. The spell now broken, it felt like the world around you suddenly resumed its orbit. Wordlessly he pressed a hand to his side- the side that you had pressed the knife- and when he pulled it away you could see that it was stained with blood.Â
âDidnât you say that you were going to gut me?â There was no hint of humor in his voice now.Â
âI wanted to.â You conceded.Â
âThen you should have tried harder.â
Again you lay in bed awake, unable to fall asleep. You told yourself that it was just homesickness that had you clinging to the blankets, but you knew better. What had happened today left you rattled and confused.Â
There were a hundred times today that Feyd could have killed you. Everything that Gurney had ever taught you had disappeared like smoke in the wind the second that your father was mentioned. You had acted on instinct alone.Â
And if it was an actual fight to the death then you would have lost. Miserably.Â
There was something strange about it though. It never once felt like an actual training session. He taught you nothing and gave you no feedback. Not only that but. . . it never felt like he actually wanted to damage your pride. He didnât turn on his shield before and after taunting you, almost as though he actually wanted one of your attacks to land.Â
He had allowed you to get everything out of your system. You hated that it had worked. It wasnât helping you to sleep tonight though. No, you had other things on your mind now.Â
Like the fact that he had almost kissed you.Â
Your knowledge was limited where men were concerned, but you were nearly positive that there was something sexual about the way that he had treated you. It was like he didnât want to actually hurt you, but still went out of his way to touch you.Â
Youâd be sure to ask for someone that might be willing to train you again tomorrow over breakfast. Someone who wasnât Feyd, preferably. Lunch and dinner had been spent in silence on your part tonight. He had tried to strike up conversation a few times, even baiting you in ways that might warrant annoyance and anger. You didnât budge. Why? Because you hated how nervous you felt in his presence now.Â
Was it because you were afraid of him? That had to be it. Hearing about his proficiency in fighting and seeing it first hand were two different things. He had practically swung you around like a ragdoll. It was absolutely humiliating.Â
Yes, that had to be it. . . well, you hoped.Â
âAtreides.âÂ
The sound of your name had you bolting up into a sitting position, willing your eyes to adjust to the non-existent lighting in the room. The sound of footsteps had your heart jumping up into your throat, adrenaline flooding your system once you realized that it wasnât a voice that you recognized.Â
No one had entered the room since youâd gotten back from dinner, which meant. . .Â
Whoever this was had been hiding, waiting until you completely lowered your guard. You were in danger. Horrible, horrible danger.Â
âBe careful. Please.â You remembered Feydâs words from earlier.Â
He had been trying to warn you.
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àłàż savage bonds taglist:
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the wonderful line âfear me, love me. do as i say and i will become your slaveâ is from the movie âthe labyrinthâ!
#feyd rautha#feyd x reader#feyd x you#feyd rautha x reader#feyd rautha x you#dune part 2#dune#austin butler#austin butler x reader#smut#dune smut#feyd rautha smut#feyd rautha harkonnen#dune x reader#dune x you#dune fanfiction#feyd rautha fic#austin butler fic
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i love my boyfriend i love my boyfriend so mych he is so soft and warm and comfy and pretty and
#so bbing into my hands YOUR HONORRRRR#wishing i could bury myself into his arms i am so so normal. let me be completely surrounded by the dumb impulsive dramatic nerd please#still rereading the manga at a snails pace because i have the attention span of a fruit fly#but i got some progress in this weekend so iâm back up to mima and maiâs duel#and. i reread the flashback segment of jou and rishidâs duel. it was very hard to do i wonât lie >_>#itâs hard to do because i hate seeing marik in pain. i hate seeing any of my f/os in pain by extension#and i hate having to actually read what he went through and itâs made worse by how heâs literally shown *shaking* right before the ritual#like. sobs. this poor baby :( he was so tinyâŠ#paced the kitchen for like twenty minutes just to stall even though itâs only three pages long. iâm normal#anyway hand in hand with that. iâm reminded how much of a jerk he can be agdjdhs#new found respect for rishid this read through (even though i definitely already had some before this)#like marik. my love. politely. things would not have gotten this out of hand so quickly if you let the duel end with selket#politely (x2). rishid getting struck down by a god was your fault too >_<#gosh and itâs the whole thing after when everyone is in the medical room with rishid#and theyâre talking about how marik âabandonedâ him when things got tough#jou talks about how he was the one able to stand first because he had the support of his friends and he didnât feel alone#that he âhad friends waiting for himâ while rishid didnât#and like ??? something about that messes me up so bad because i know heâs right and i know itâs pretty messed up behavior from marik#not that there was much he could do to be there with rishid since. yamima situation but#i donât know. some part of me still adores that part of his character#the early parts of it before he redeems himself. the parts before he realizes the truth of what really happened with his father#that drive and that recklessness and eagerness to get revenge even at the cost of the ghouls and his brother#it all still comes from some place where he thinks he's doing the right thing even if it's primarily for *himself* rather than the clan#that's always been something i've loved about him. he's so stubborn. he's so determined. he does the stupidest things because of it but#i still adore him all the same for it. i adore him even more when he takes responsibility for it later#i don't remember battle city messing me up this bad but i teared up like five different times during this one duel so. *shrugs*#asghghg i love going back and rereading or rewatching episodes of him... lets me get a better grasp and sometimes a different view for him#just. picks him up and shakes him YOU GIVE ME SO MANY EMOTIONS!! some more negative than others!! but i still love him so so much#probably partially because of that lol. anyway i'm gonna go and. space out thinking of him probably okay bye#with you i feel alive
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THINGS I NOTICED WHILE WATCHING BEETLEJUICE BEETLEJUICE AGAIN:
This is a very Beetlebabes-centric post, so if you donât like the ship, please feel free to scroll away. <3
Beetlejuice cut Deloresâ ring finger off, and while it was originally a fun joke in the first movie, thereâs deep implications about that action when we look at it with the context of the second film. Beetlejuice attacked her after she betrayed him. Anyone would want to kill the person that poisoned them, but the fact that he took the time to find her finger and deliberately cut her ring finger off (and ONLY that finger) reflects how much that marriage meant to him. It also symbolizes that heâs effectively dissolving their marriage. Heâs cut off the physical representation of their love and taken the ring, which he tries to give to Lydia hundreds of years later. He held onto that ring for centuries in hopes of finding someone he deemed worthy of it.
He calls his dynamic with Lydia a long-distance relationship, which couldâve been a throwaway joke if not for the fact that when he clearly notices how hot Janet is, he never talks to her or gropes her like he did with Barbara prior to meeting Lydia. Keaton said BJ wouldnât be politically correct, so this isnât to reflect the current political climate, but rather to reflect BJâs motivations.
Beetlejuice was jobless at the start of the first movie, and in thirty years heâs built a company for his bio-exorcisms. Coupled with the picture of Lydia on his desk, itâs possible he did this to impress her. After all, sheâs famous and rich now. BJâs gotta step it up, yâknow?
Probably overheard the convo between Lydia and Rory and deliberately bugged her at that time, because if he can possess the phone or whatever, he can probably use it to eavesdrop. This can be further supported by how he got rid of the influencers but kept the people that mattered to Lydia presentâDelia and Astrid.
We can also assume he overheard the conversation where Lydia said that Rory loves her and that has to be enough because of the panning to a gravestone. BJ has a special fascination with graveyards, even tiny model ones. If he did overhear them, it explains why he used the truth serum on Rory. Heâs testing him. He wants to see if this guy actually loves Lydia or if heâs using her, and then he gives Lydia the means to exact revenge on Rory rather than doing anything himself.
Lydia spends half the movie being strong -armed into a marriage with Rory, and in a way, itâs reminiscent of the first movieâs marriage attempt. Rory dangles their âloveâ in front of her like a carrot, and if she doesnât want to be alone, she has to accept his manipulation and agree to get married. Yet she immediately offers it to Beetlejuice, only sounding annoyed rather than terrified. And the movie spends a lot of time proving that BJ has sincere motives this time around, whereas Rory doesnât. It pushes an underlying message that if one of these guys is going to be a better choice, itâll be BJ.
Despite Lydia having a tendency to back out of their deals, he still helps her first. He prioritizes saving Astrid even before finding his ârunaway brideâ again.
Casually calls Lydia the love of his life, looks so sincere when he says heâll make her so happy. Clearly spent those 30 years planning that dream-dance sequence.
He doesnât seem to care that Lydiaâs sending him away. That coupled with the end scene illustrates how confident he is this time around. Lydia is still stuck with him, and even if he didnât get her this time, he will eventually. But he also knows how spooked she is by marriage after being a snoop, so itâs possible that heâs just taking it slow on purpose.
In conclusion: Beetlejuice genuinely does want to be with Lydia and care about her. His feelings have evolved beyond permanent residence in the mortal world. If anything, if he still wants that, itâs so he can be by her side.
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