#please be smart and please stay safe

[mossribcage]

tesla owners are directly responsible for aiding in our surveillance state.

let’s not forget that when the new years attacks went down, it was widely reported that elon musk provided authorities with camera footage and charging station information (though i can suspiciously no longer find any articles saying so. if you find them, PLEASE add them to this post). trump all but said the words “elon musk manipulated the votes in my favor,” at his rally on sunday, january 19th 2025. if he was truly capable of doing so, there’s no chance that he doesn’t have back door access to tesla cars and trucks.

if he can access those things to help with terrorist investigations, what do you think he’s gonna do now that he’s in the white house ?

if you are organizing, be sure to cover your face or use anti-facial recognition makeup. there are more cameras than you thought.

[sheree-says-stuff]

if you're under the age of 18, please stay away from substances and sex.

i know it's normalized, i know people will pressure you to do all sorts of things, and i know it feels like you have to do it all to prove something. but for the love of God please don't. i really don't mean to pull the "you're too young to understand card" bc i'm not much older than you at all, but your brain isn't experienced enough to rationalize consequences of substances and intimacy, especially if you're not educated on it.

you can put yourself in some seriously dangerous situations this way. it's not worth it. once you're an adult and you've educated yourself, you can do anything you want. just be safe. you're not an exception-- you too can accidentally get pregnant or get an incurable STD or drunk drive or green out.

again, i know all of it sounds fun, but people around you can and will be stupid and disregard your safety. so take care of yourself and focus on things that make YOU happy. focus on new hobbies and skills and build on those. learn something new. trust me, you're infinitely cooler if you have a hobby and stay out of trouble.

you're not an exception, so don't be a statistic. stay safe.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

don't tell him. l Joel Miller

Summary: you tried to hide an unpleasant situation from Joel

Warnings: angst, attempted sexual assault, aggressive behavior, Reader feels guilty, violence, swearing; Ellie, Tommy, Ann, and Elliot appear

A/N: .

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

Your footsteps echoed quietly in the hallway of the building that served Jackson as a sort of town hall. You knew you would find Tommy there and you were right. When you pushed open the door, he looked up from the map and was surprised. He wasn't expecting a guest and your appearance gave him the impression that something was wrong.

"What’s up?" he asked, "Patrol went wrong?"

You adjusted the strap of your rifle that was still hanging over your shoulder and bit your lip, feeling your heart still pounding. Eventually, though, you nodded. “I don’t want to go on patrol with Elliot anymore. I’m sorry, Tommy, but I refuse.”

He frowned and looked at you carefully, getting up from his chair. "What happened? This was your third patrol together. Did he do something irresponsible?"

He noticed you looking away, but after a moment your eyes landed on him again. “Yes, he did.”

The third patrol with Elliot was no different. All patrolling personnel had to be able to cooperate with each other, so partners were swapped from time to time. Shane took on another partner for a while, and you agreed to take Elliot. It was fine. Until that day.

You should have set the boundary from the start, but this time your faith in people failed you. Comments that seemed strange to you and made you feel uncomfortable kept falling from Elliot's lips.

"They're just compliments, honey." he said when you gave him a warning look. "Anger hurts beauty."

Neither Joel nor Shane had ever spoken to you that way. But patrol was the most important thing and that was what you decided to focus on, so you ignored the red flags that were popping up in the back of your head. And he probably didn't like it.

“Listen,” he began as you put the thermos away after your meal and slowly prepared to return to Jackson. “I know you know I like you. I saw the way you looked my way.”

"What?" you looked at him surprised. "I didn't..."

"You did. At the bar or when we saw each other in town." he stepped closer.

"Listen, I think you misunderstood me." you replied trying to turn it all into a joke. "You know perfectly well that me and Joel..."

"Joel." Elliot snorted. "Please, will he protect you? Will he keep you safe?"

The words died in your throat as you noticed the change in the man's eyes. The gentle gaze darkened. Instinct told you that you should back off, not provoke him, because that was apparently how he perceived every reaction you made to his words.

"Let's go back to Jackson." you said trying to ignore Elliot's strange behavior. You threw your backpack over your shoulder when you felt him grab your arm tightly.

"I'm serious, honey." he hissed. He was standing close enough to make you feel threatened. "You're pretty and smart, you know exactly what I'm talking about. Here-" he looked around the forest surrounding you "Here everything will stay between us and..."

"Let me go." you interrupted him sharply. "You have no right to talk to me like that! I don't know what you've got in your head, but it's fucking sick!"

"You keep tempting and provoking me, don't tell me that..."

You yanked your arm away and stepped back abruptly. Elliot had barely taken a step when you pulled a gun from your belt and aimed it at him. "Give me a reason." you said.

You were terrified, but you didn't want him to see it. Eventually, he just shrugged, muttered, "Bitch!", and picked up his backpack, then started walking without even looking back. It was only then that you realized you were holding your breath.

Tommy looked at you with a mixture of disbelief and anger, but he didn’t doubt any of your words. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered when you told him everything. “I wanted Shane to go with him, but Elliot asked you to. He said you liked each other and he’s already talked to you about it.”

"He said that? Jesus."

Tommy walked around the desk and approached you. Concern was written all over his face. "I'm sorry, he'll never go on patrol with you again. I'll talk to him. Fuck! When Joel finds out..."

Your eyes widened in an instant. That was why you came straight to Tommy.

"You can't say anything to Joel." you said, and seeing Tommy's surprised look, you added "You know what he can do. Joel... That guy you caught when Sam and Anthony died... I don't want him to do something like that again because of me." 

You didn't know what Joel did back then, but you weren't stupid and you weren't fooling yourself. That man disappeared without a trace. You didn't feel any regret about it. Were you a bad person? Probably, but you didn't want Joel to get furious and do something stupid.

Tommy leaned in slightly toward you. "He's my brother. I should keep you safe."

"Nothing happened. Just make sure I don't have to see Elliot on patrol anymore."

Tommy shook his head, but eventually sighed in resignation. "Fine. I won't tell him. What about you? How are you feeling?"

"Better now."

You had your reasons for keeping Joel out of what happened. It was between you, Elliot, and Tommy, and you just tried to forget about it. Things were really good between you and Joel, and you didn't want something unpleasant to happen to change that, and Elliot definitely could.

For a few days you wondered if maybe you had actually done or said something that would make him feel like you were interested in him, but you had found nothing. Nothing beyond the normal greetings or exchanges of words that you had with other residents of Jackson. But the guilt quietly churned in the back of your mind.

Tommy, as he promised, moved Elliot to other duties and soon you went back to patrolling with Shane, which you welcomed with great relief. You were ready to forget about everything.

For the past few weeks, Joel had seemed worried about something, but every time you asked him about it, he would say, “It’s nothing, honey. Just… thinking.” And then he would kiss your forehead or temple and pretend nothing was wrong. You asked Ellie and Tommy about it too, but they would just shrug—for them, everything was normal.

"Maybe he's getting more grumpy with age?" Ellie once said, so you dropped the subject before she could say anything more. Things were good between you, so you didn't want to look for problems.

However, when Ann showed up at your door that evening, you knew something was wrong. She had a flushed face and seemed very concerned about something.

"Something with Elijah or Shane?" you asked, getting up from the couch and putting the book aside.

"Why didn't you tell me?" her voice was shaking. "We're friends after all."

"Ann, I don't understand." you replied, walking up to her "What happened? Where's the baby?"

"With Shane." she threw out casually, but her hand quickly grabbed your arm. "Shane told me. About Elliot and what happened. Why didn't you tell me?"

Shit. In an instant, you felt like the ground had dropped from under your feet. Tommy had promised you. Did he really...

But Ann must have noticed your surprise and calmed down a bit, or at least enough to speak a little quieter. “Shane was at the Tipsy Bison today. Elliot and a few other guys were there too. He…” she took a deep breath. “He said some really nasty things about you. Shane wanted to react, just tell him to shut up, but then he heard him talking about your last patrol…”

"What did he say?" the words just poured out of your mouth.

“Nothing specific.” Ann frowned, trying to remember her husband’s exact words. “Something about how you’d been seducing him for so long that he’d suggested a quickie but you got scared. That you and Joel were bullshit and you’d come to him soon.”

"Asshole!" you groaned, feeling tears welling up in your eyes, and the lump in your throat hurt more and more.

“I know!” Ann groaned, folding her arms across her chest. “Shane didn’t believe it either, he thought Elliot was just talking nonsense. But then… He remembered Tommy telling him that you asked him to so you wouldn’t have to go on patrol with Elliot, and he got a little scared. Honey, what happened?”

How were you supposed to tell her? You didn't want to go back to it, you wanted to forget, but at that moment you felt like you were really to blame for everything. Ann was looking at you, waiting for some kind of answer, so you gave it to her.

But as the words left your mouth, and her face grew even more terrified, you told her the same thing you had told Tommy. "I beg you, don't say anything Joel. He can't..."

Ann's eyes widened and her face tensed as she looked over your shoulder. You had no chance of hearing Joel's footsteps. You were so focused on your friend that you didn't hear him come in through the back door. He must have heard it all because when you looked at him, you were terrified. Eyes darkened, his jaw tensed. He looked at you in a way that made you feel like your legs were about to give out.

“Joel…” he moved, but it looked more like a wild animal preparing to attack. This wasn’t your Joel. “Joel…” you repeated, trying to touch him, but your fingers only grazed his shirt as he quickly walked past you, running out of the house and slamming the door.

Tipsy Bison was filled with people. Conversation and music filled the air, and almost no one noticed when Joel entered. He wasn't thinking. Emotions had completely taken over his body and he wasn't going to fight it.

When he got home he wanted to speak, but he heard Ann's worried voice so he just went to the door. What he heard completely shocked him.

Elliot. The same guy he had talked to a few times, the one he had seen in Jackson. The same one who seemed to be just polite to you. Joel didn't see him as a threat. Were his instincts starting to fail?

Joel's brain was producing visions of what could have happened, and it only made him more furious.

He swept his gaze around the inside of Tipsy Bison and soon spotted his target. Elliot was sitting at one of the tables with a few other men. The man didn't notice him, and when Joel reached him, he had no chance.

A strong hand gripped his shirt and pulled Elliot, forcing him to stand up. "What the hell?" escaped him, but he didn't even hear the answer as something hit him hard in the face.

The force of the blow was so strong that he tripped over a chair and fell to the floor with it. His companions stood up, surprised by what had happened, but Joel was already leaning over him. More blows fell, splitting Elliot's eyebrow and breaking his nose. Blood began to pour from his mouth. He had no chance to defend himself when Joel attacked with such force and fury.

"Enough! Enough!" a scream rang out.

Three pairs of male hands grabbed Joel, with difficulty tearing him away from the man lying and whimpering on the floor. Tommy looked at the bloodied Elliot in horror, and then at his brother. "We're leaving. Now!"

Joel didn't even protest. Adrenaline was pumping in his ears, his heart was pounding in his chest. He knew that if it weren't for Tommy and the others, he probably would have beaten that guy to death. He could do it. He wanted to do it.

The cold air swept over his face as they exited the building. "What was that?!" Tommy growled. "What are you-"

"I know what he did to her." Joel interrupted, noticing his brother's hesitation. "You know what I'm talking about, right?"

Not without hesitation, Tommy nodded. "I know. She told me. That same day."

Joel's blood began to flow faster again. "Why didn't she tell me? She should have!" he growled.

"That's exactly why!" his brother gestured to the Tipsy Bison door, where people were probably trying to help Elliot. "She wanted to avoid this! She was thinking about you!"

Tommy knew that Joel's head must be a real mess right now. He didn't hide the fact that he supported what he had done, Elliot should be happy that they managed to get Joel off of him so quickly. But Tommy felt sorry for him too, and for you. He loved you both, and his heart broke when he saw how this world treated you.

"How did you find out?" he asked, a little calmer now.

Joel sighed. "By accident. I heard her talking to Ann."

"You talked to her?" Joel shook his head. "Then do it. Damn it, she loves you and I know you love her too. She was the victim, don't forget that. She didn't tell you about Elliot to protect you. Even then, she only thought about you."

Joel didn't answer. Something tightened painfully in his throat, and his right hand was starting to hurt. Tommy didn't stop him as his brother started walking towards the house.

When the door opened again, you instinctively stood up. You didn't know what to expect. Joel left in such a state that you were afraid of every possibility. Ann wanted to stay, but you convinced her that it was pointless, she couldn't help you, she couldn't do anything.

"Come here." he said quietly, and when you came closer he just spread his arms.

You snuggled into his chest, hugging him tightly. Tears were pressing to your eyes, but when Joel hugged you, you felt safe. The steady beating of his heart was soothing, his warmth enveloping you. "You should have told me, baby." Joel didn't sound angry, rather sad and worried. "I should have known."

"I didn't want to worry you. I thought if I solved it myself, I'd forget about it..."

“And that didn’t happen?” He held you tighter. You sank deeper into him. You’d never needed anyone as much as you needed Joel. The silence was enough. His chest heaved with a deep breath. “It wasn’t your fault, baby. That asshole got lucky anyway, because if it wasn’t for Tommy…” he sighed. “Elliot will never look at you again. I promise you.”

And you knew that Joel Miller always kept his word.

She quietly closed the door and took off her shoes so as not to make any noise. But after a few steps that Ellie considered unusually quiet, she heard a familiar voice coming from the kitchen. “Good thing you know where you live, huh?”

The girl sighed and followed Joel's voice. The kitchen was barely lit, and he was finishing a glass of water he'd come down from his bedroom to get. It was almost midnight. Joel had never told her to be back at a specific time, only to make it a reasonable hour.

Ellie leaned against the doorframe and shoved her hands into her pants pockets.

"What?" he mumbled, looking at her sly smile.

"Nothing." She shrugged. "I heard what you did. Good job, dude."

Joel rolled his eyes. Ellie snorted.

"He deserved it. And it was your duty, after all." Joel frowned. "You're her man, right? You're supposed to defend her honor or something."

He nodded. "Sometimes I wonder how to protect you both, you know. This world is so fucking messed up."

“What if things were like they used to be?” Joel looked at Ellie in surprise, but she just smiled. “If things were like they used to be. Without the infected and the Riders and all that crap? Do you think you and her would meet? Or the two of us? I don’t think so.” Ellie yawned and stretched. “I’m going to bed. Good night!”

"Good night, kid." Joel mumbled.

He stood in the kitchen for a moment longer, listening to her slow footsteps as she climbed the stairs, then the slam of the door. In the room across from Ellie’s, you were sleeping peacefully in your shared bed.

For a moment, he felt like he was truly home. And even though deep in his heart he still mourned the life he had, this new life was with him and he wanted to be a part of it. Joel felt better as he lay down next to you, put his arm around you, and snuggled against your back, kissing your shoulder.

"Ellie's back?" your voice was quiet and sleepy.

"Safe and sound, baby." Just like you.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @somedayheaven @underneath-the-sky-again @callmebyyournick-name @hiroikegawa @

[sleepincrow]

someone hear me out on whipped emperor!geto and concubine!reader who was offered by her family.

the thing is youre a little clever one!

emperor suguru isnt one to usually copulate with his concubines. its really only something he 'keeps' if plans change. now, normally the man would refuse the offer but you were quite the present.

cursing out your family, you werent trying to seduce him. suguru admires your dedication to making your relatives look as bad as possible in front of the high-class.

of course, to the public's surprise, he accepted you into his palace—something you yourself werent exactly fond of.

at first, you didnt try to defy him, in fear of being beheaded by the court. you were quiet and curious, your eyes often drifting to the greenery in his garden. he treated you well, too. he laid out many books for you to read and fed you.

you'd narrow your eyes at him. it's only normal since all you can think about is how cunning and filthy this man might be. youre defensive and well-equipped with a smart mouth.

slowly, much to his dismay, you grew more defiant, often cursing out his guards and locking yourself in your room like a troubled teen. suguru would frown and knock at your door, hoping you'd come out to have dinner again, maybe even talk amongst the various flowers in his field.

its not like you hate him. maybe a little. you hate why youre here in the first place, pissed off that youre actually developing feelings for the emperor. the thought alone makes you want to throw the fat book on your desk out the window.

your behaviour only worries him more. his face expressing deep concern for his concubine, something many of the servants envied. they didnt dare to try and test you, though. they know because the first one who did was immediately harassed by your strong, hurtful words, which suguru overheard and beheaded the man.

but suguru isnt fazed by your antics. he understands, after all. all he can do is coo out 'baby' and 'princess' because he just wants to take care of you! is that so bad?

"come and eat with me, princess, please? you havent touched your food." he pleads softly like a woman weeping for her husband who's forced to go to war. he wants you to feel safe with him.

its cute really, how much you try to push him away, yelling out frantic and angry statements which he only raises a hand and waves away while trying to get you to rest against his arms.

the first time he hugs you, there was a war between the side that wanted to push him off, maybe even bite him in resistance, and the side that smelled his sweet vanilla and lavender essence, padded on his black cloth. the warmth he offered kept you against his chest as he tells you just how much he loves you.

so come stay in his arms, yeah?

[emmiesoverthemoon]

i’ll make you lose

pairing: lee felix x reader

word count: 10.6k

summary: you wanted to tease your cute nerdy tutor. how could you not? he looked like he short circuited whenever you both made eye contact. well, as it turns out, untouched nerds do it best.

tags: flustered felix. university au. implied friends to lovers. flirting, teasing. unprotected sex, dry humping, oral (f recieving). enjoy

this is my longest work yet. safe to say i got carried away lol.

You sat at the long, rectangular desk in the lecture hall, your fingers lightly tapping against the surface as the professor’s voice floated in the background. Your mind wandered, the jumble of equations and formulas in front of you blurring into abstract shapes. The announcement that your professor had just made, however, cut through the fog in your thoughts, and it was only then that the full meaning of their words sank in.

Felix. Lee Felix.

He was going to be your tutor. You had heard the rumors. Felix was brilliant. His grades were flawless, and his understanding of the material was unparalleled. He had the kind of intellect that earned him respect from professors and peers alike. The kind of intellect that made people expect perfection from him in everything he did.

But as much as Felix was known for his academic prowess, there was another side to him that never failed to catch your attention. He had this nerdy charm that was impossible to ignore. The way his tousled hair always seemed to fall into his eyes no matter how much he tried to push it back, the way his shy smile made him look both endearing and just a little out of place in the sea of confident university students. He was smart, yes, but there was something almost adorably awkward about him that always made you want to push his buttons.

“Felix will meet you in the library after class,” the professor continued, oblivious to the mischief stirring in your mind. “He is more than capable of helping you grasp these concepts, so please do not hesitate to reach out if you need assistance.”

You had to bite back the grin threatening to spread across your face. Felix would be your tutor? Oh, you could already imagine how it would go. You would be sitting there in the quiet, academic setting of the library, surrounded by endless shelves of books, and all you would need to do was drop a few playful comments and watch him squirm. Felix was too polite, too aware of how smart he was, and you knew that his discomfort would only make him more adorable.

He would try so hard to keep the focus on the subject, to make sure you understood every little detail. But you? You would make it impossible for him to stay composed. You could already hear his voice wavering, see the flush creeping up his neck when your teasing got to him.

You were going to enjoy every second of it.

With a sly grin, you gathered your things and headed out of class. Your mind was already turning, plotting exactly how to push his buttons in all the right ways. He was going to be your tutor, but that didn’t mean you were unallowed have a little fun while you learned, right?

The library was, as usual, a quiet sanctuary, with the scent of paper and ink filling the air as students hunched over their textbooks. Your ears were filled with the distant clicking of keyboard keys as other students desperately attempted to finish their assignments on time. You found an empty table by the window, settled into a chair, and waited. Your heart beat a little faster than usual, not from nerves, but from the anticipation of what was about to unfold. You were going to have Felix all to yourself, and the idea was enough to make you smile to yourself, just a little.

Minutes later, Felix entered, his presence immediately drawing your attention. He had a large backpack slung over one shoulder, and his eyes scanned the room, moving quickly over the rows of tables. When his line of sight finally landed on you, he froze, looking just a little startled, like he hadn’t expected you to be so... ready.

“Hi,” he said, his voice soft and careful as he made his way over. “Sorry I’m late, I—uh—had to finish something for another class.”

You nodded slowly, watching him as he set his things down on the table, arranging them with a precision that made you wonder how long he had spent perfecting the art of being neat. “No problem,” you said, your voice light, casual. “I was just looking forward to some... expert tutoring.”

Felix blinked at you, a faint frown tugging at the corner of his lips. He pushed his glasses up his nose, his fingers fumbling with the straps of his bag. “I—I wouldn’t call myself an expert. I just know the material,” he said quickly, glancing down at his notes, avoiding your sharp eyes.

You leaned forward just slightly, watching him. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Felix. They say you have all the answers.”

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, eyes flickering nervously as he finally looked at you, a little too long this time. “Well... I try to. But, um... math is... you know, it’s not—uh—difficult once you understand it. It’s not subjective.” He trailed off, almost as if he was trying to convince himself more than you.

You tilted your head, your smile widening just a fraction. “Hmm... so you are saying it is easy for you?”

Felix looked like he might crumble under the weight of your gaze. His fingers twitched, reaching for his pencil as if to busy himself, but his hand stopped just shy of it, his posture growing even more tense. “It’s... I mean, it’s not hard. Once you—”

“Once you focus,” you interrupted, your voice casual, but there was an undercurrent of something more. “And make sure your student focuses too, right?”

Felix cleared his throat, visibly flustered now. He nodded rapidly. “Yes, yes, exactly. If we just focus, it’s really easy to get through it.” His voice wavered slightly, but he quickly recovered, trying to mask the nervousness that was slowly creeping in. “So, um... let’s get started with this first problem. It’s all about understanding the process.”

You rested your chin in your hand, leaning slightly forward again. “Of course. But... I'm curious. What do you do in your free time, Felix? When you’re not, you know, tutoring, being cute, and getting perfect grades?”

Felix blinked, caught off guard by the question. “I... uh...” He hesitated, his face turning a deeper shade of pink. “I just... I like to study more. Or... play some video games. Just to relax.”

You grinned, sensing the opportunity for more teasing. “Video games, huh? That’s... interesting. I would have never pegged you as the type.”

Felix opened his mouth, then closed it again, clearly unsure how to respond. His fingers drummed nervously on the desk, and you could see the tiny tremble in his hand. “I—uh—it’s just a hobby,” he said, the words coming out much faster than he intended. “It helps me unwind.”

“Mmm,” you murmured, eyes glinting. “I can imagine. You must get really into it. I bet you lose track of time... just focusing on the game.”

Felix was trying so hard not to react, but it was obvious he was flustered. His shoulders were tight, his cheeks flushed, and he avoided looking at you for a moment. “I mean, yeah... sometimes. But that’s not the point right now,” he mumbled, more to himself than to you.

You leaned back, still smiling. “No, of course not. You’re here to tutor me. I get it.”

But the way his voice cracked slightly when he spoke—that was definitely the point.

Felix took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. His fingers slid over his notebook as he adjusted his glasses again, the motion a bit more frantic this time. The uncertainty was still there, evident in the way his shoulders stiffened as he tried to get his thoughts together. He focused on the material, but it was clear that the presence in front of him made it harder to stay on track.

“Alright,” he began, his voice more confident than before, though there was a slight edge to it. “This problem is about differential equations. First, we isolate the variable—”

You interrupted him, your voice light and teasing. “Mm, sure, but are you sure you want to go straight into all that? I mean, you’re looking awfully cute trying to explain this.”

Felix froze mid-sentence, the words catching in his throat. His hand, still gripping his pencil, trembled slightly. He glanced up at you, flustered. “I... I’m just trying to make sure you get it.” His voice was tight, but there was an unmistakable vulnerability to it, like he was unsure whether you were joking or being serious.

You leaned back in your chair, letting your eyes trace over his flustered expression. “I know, I know. You’re just so diligent,” you said with a smirk, your inspective eyes never leaving his face. “It’s kinda adorable, to be honest.”

Felix’s cheeks turned a shade darker. He cleared his throat, awkwardly glancing at the notebook, his focus now split between the problem in front of him and the teasing grin on your face. “Okay, well,” he stammered, his voice faltering. “Let’s just get through this first part, okay? The first thing you do is... uh, you isolate the variable, and then...”

“You know,” you interrupted again, raising an eyebrow, “you’re really good at this. I don’t even need to take notes. I’ll just watch you talk about math. You’re cute when you get all serious.”

Felix’s eyes darted up to meet yours, then quickly flicked back down, his face growing hotter. “I—uh—I think it’s better if you take notes. You’ll remember it better that way.”

You grinned, enjoying how much you were making him squirm. “Oh, but it’s more fun this way. You’re cute when you’re flustered. Besides,” you leaned forward slightly, “I think I’d rather pay attention to you than whatever’s on the page.”

Felix opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He swallowed thickly, his fingers nervously tapping the pencil against the desk. He couldn’t seem to keep his eyes on the equations now, not when you were looking at him like that. “I... I don’t think that’s the best idea,” he finally managed, his voice sounding almost strained. “We need to focus.”

“Focus, huh?” you mused, eyes sparkling. “Well, I’m sure I could focus... if you weren’t so intriguing.”

He was clearly struggling to maintain his composure. His gaze flickered between his notes and you, like he was unable to decide which was more important. “I—I’m trying to stay on track here,” he said, voice a little more forceful this time, though it was still laced with uncertainty. “But, uh... just, just try to take notes. Please?”

You smiled, leaning back in your chair with a teasing glint in your eye. “Alright, alright, Felix. You’re the boss. But I’ll admit, it’s hard to take notes when my tutor is so... distracting.”

Felix’s jaw tightened, his fingers curling around his pencil. “I—uh—I’m not trying to distract you. I just... I want you to understand this,” he said quickly, his tone a little more defensive now.

You nodded slowly, your expression shifting just enough to let him know you were still in control of the situation. “Sure, Felix. Go ahead,” you said, your voice almost too sweet, too calm. “I’ll listen, I promise.”

But there was no mistaking the underlying amusement in your voice, the way you were watching him with that knowing smile, making it almost impossible for him to keep his focus. Felix’s pencil shook slightly as he attempted to continue, but his words came out stilted and unsure. “Okay, so... when you—uh, when you solve for the variable, you—”

You leaned forward just a little, your voice soft but pointed. “You’re so good at this, Felix. Really. But I’ve got to wonder...” You let the words trail off, watching the way he stiffened under your gaze. “Do you get this flustered all the time? Or is it just me?”

Felix froze, his face turning even redder as he quickly tried to look away. “I’m—uh—I’m not flustered,” he muttered, but his voice was weak, lacking the usual certainty.

For the first time, you saw a flicker of something else in his eyes—an edge, maybe, or a challenge. His hand gripped his pencil more firmly as he looked down at the page, his voice quieter but still undeniably more confident. “I can focus,” he said, his tone sharper than before. “Let’s just... finish this.”

“Alright,” you said, your voice softer now, almost intrigued. “Let’s finish it, then.”

“Okay,” he began again, though his voice was steadier than before, still tinged with that edge of determination. “Let’s go over it again. After we’ve isolated the variable, you need to—”

You interrupted him again, this time leaning forward, just slightly. “Felix,” you said, your tone laced with playful mischief, “do you always look this serious when you’re teaching? I mean, you’re making me think you have a secret life as a super serious tutor.”

Felix blinked, clearly thrown off by the sudden shift in your tone. He adjusted his glasses with a nervous gesture, but this time, the flush creeping up his neck wasn’t as obvious. “I—I’m just trying to make sure you understand,” he said, though there was an almost defensive quality in his voice now. “It’s not easy to explain this stuff if you’re distracted.”

You raised an eyebrow, letting a small smirk play on your lips. “Distracted? Me?” you asked, feigning innocence. “I’m completely focused on you, Felix. But you know, your whole ‘serious tutor’ vibe is... kinda working for me. It’s almost too cute.”

Felix’s eyes flicked to you, then quickly away, a small breath escaping his lips. His hands clenched around the pencil, a slight tremor running through him. “It’s not cute,” he said quickly, his voice sounding a little more forced now. “This is important. I need you to take this seriously.”

“Of course, Felix,” you purred, leaning back in your chair as you watched the way he shifted in his seat. “I am very serious. I’m just wondering... do you always get this uptight when you talk to girls? Or is it just me that gets under your skin?”

Felix’s eyes widened, a flicker of something almost daring in his eye before he quickly looked back down at his notes. The flush deepened in his cheeks, but there was a shift in his posture—a subtle but noticeable one. “I’m not uptight,” he said firmly, though the force behind his words caught you by surprise. “I’m just focused on making sure you understand the content. That’s all.”

You smiled knowingly, pushing your luck a little further. “Hmm, is that what it is? You’re not uptight at all? Because it sure looks like I’m getting to you, Felix.”

Felix’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he might snap at you. But then, he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, his fingers loosening their grip on the pencil. “It’s just that... I know this stuff inside and out,” he said, his tone a little quieter but still confident. “I don’t want you to struggle with it, okay?”

You tilted your head, your smile softer now, though your eyes never left his. “I’m sure you don’t want me to struggle,” you said, your voice low, “but maybe... just maybe... you’re a little more interested in making me struggle in other ways.”

Felix’s face flushed, his expression faltering for a split second before he regained his composure. His gaze flicked to yours again, but this time, it lingered a fraction longer than before. “I... that’s not what I meant,” he stammered, his voice betraying him. “I just... want you to do well. Is that so hard to believe?”

You smirked, enjoying the way he was floundering just a bit. “No, Felix. It’s not hard to believe at all,” you said, your voice dripping with amusement. “I just find it interesting that you’re so focused on me doing well. What about you? You’re doing a great job. I’d say you're pretty good at this whole tutoring thing.”

Felix shifted, clearly flustered. His usual calm demeanor was beginning to crack, and he was no longer avoiding your line of sight. The hesitation was still there, but it was starting to feel like he wasn’t as afraid to face you anymore. “It’s... it’s not about me,” he said, voice still uncertain, but no longer as shy. “It’s about you learning, okay?”

There was a brief moment of silence, and you noticed the change in his posture—how he sat up straighter now, shoulders back, a subtle shift in his body language. His attempt at maintaining composure was no longer about simply getting through the tutoring session—it was about something else, something you couldn’t quite place.

You tilted your head slightly, watching him closely. “Alright, Felix,” you said, your voice softening just a little, “I’ll let you get back to the problem. But I’m starting to think that you’re not just tutoring me anymore. There’s a little something else going on, huh?”

Felix cleared his throat, his staring flicking to his notes for a second before he straightened up, more resolute this time. “Just focus on the material, alright?” His voice had a firmness now, an edge to it that hadn’t been there before. He now carried a commanding energy that you would be lying if you said you hated it.

For the first time, you felt a shift in the dynamic. The shift in the air was palpable—subtle yet undeniable. Felix was no longer just the shy, uncertain tutor, fumbling through every explanation with a nervousness that was, at first, endearing but now seemed out of place. No, there was something different in his demeanor now—something almost challenging. The softness he had shown earlier, the gentle hesitation, was slowly being replaced with a quiet firmness, and you could feel it in the way his eyes met yours. Steady. Calculated. Unwavering.

You couldn’t resist pushing just a little further. It's just so fun!

“So, Felix,” you said, a teasing tone slipping into your voice, “is this how you always talk? All serious, no fun? Because I think you'd be a lot more interesting if you let go a little, you know. Just a thought."

Felix didn't even flinch this time. His gaze held steady, the faintest spark of something deeper hiding behind those eyes. There was an edge to his voice, a subtle, almost imperceptible shift that you had not noticed before. “I can be fun when it matters,” he replied, his tone surprisingly assured. “But I’m not here to entertain you. I’m here to help you get it. If that means I need to stay focused, then so be it.”

You raised an eyebrow, momentarily taken aback by the calm intensity of his words. “Oh, I know,” you said with a feigned innocence, leaning back slightly in your chair. “But it’s funny, don’t you think? How you try so hard to keep it all together. Makes me wonder... if you’re trying to impress someone with all that focus.”

Felix’s posture stiffened, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. His fingers, still gripping the pencil, twitched as if he was about to speak, but instead, he cleared his throat, and a brief silence settled between you.

“I’m not trying to impress anyone,” he said, the words deliberate, slower this time. “I’m here to do my job. To help you. Nothing more.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as you studied him. “Mm. Sure. But I can’t help but wonder, Felix,” you said, leaning in just a little closer, “does all this effort to be so... perfect make you feel better? Or is it just the way you think people expect you to be?”

The words hung in the air for a moment, and you could see Felix’s jaw tighten. His eyes, previously avoiding your peering ones, now locked with them. There was something different in the way he held himself now, something new in the way he stood his ground.

“I’m not perfect,” he said, his voice low but strong, a subtle challenge laced in every syllable. “And I don’t need you to think I am. I’m just doing what I have to do.”

Your gaze softened, the teasing edge still present but now tempered with something else. Felix’s composure was beginning to shift, the walls he had built starting to crack, revealing something more—a strength, a quiet assertiveness that had previously been hidden.

“Alright, Felix,” you said, your tone slipping into something more genuine, less playful. “But I have to admit, this... side of you? Didn’t see it coming. I like it.”

Felix inhaled slowly, his eyes still fixed on you, but now there was a quiet confidence in his aura. He set his pencil down, his movements deliberate, and you watched as he leaned forward just slightly.

“I’m not the nervous guy you think I am,” he said, his voice steady, no longer stumbling over his words. “And I’m not here to let you get away with everything, either.”

The change in his tone caught you off guard. There was no hesitation now, no nervous stammering. Felix, the tutor you had been teasing so relentlessly, was looking at you with the kind of quiet authority that made your pulse race.

Your smile faltered for a second, a small surprise flickering in your chest. “Well,” you said, your voice softer now, “guess I’ve been underestimating you.”

Felix’s deep eyes never wavered, and the corner of his lips curled into the faintest of smirks. “Maybe you should stop,” he said, his tone teasing now, but there was an undeniable edge to it. His voice dropped low, firing quick heat straight to your chest, “You might just find out that I’m not so easy to read.”

You swallowed, your heart picking up its pace at the challenge in his voice. There was a new tension in the air now, a quiet storm brewing between the two of you. And for the first time, you wondered just how far this teasing game could go.

The study session had dragged on, the numbers blurring into a haze that you could no longer focus on. Felix’s voice was a calm cadence, his explanations intricate yet smooth, but your mind had long since wandered. The air between you had thickened, a subtle charge building, lingering just below the surface. You stretched your arms overhead, an exaggerated motion that only further fueled the unspoken tension between you.

“Felix,” you drawled, your voice languid as you settled back into your chair, letting your eyes settle on him. “I think I’ve earned a break, don’t you think?”

Felix glanced up, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes before he smoothed it over with a quick smile. “A break?” he repeated, his tone light but the gleam in his eyes betraying the small flicker of interest. “For what exactly?”

You leaned back, the chair creaking beneath you as you tilted your head, assessing him in that way that made him uncomfortable without him even realising it. “I’ve been listening, Felix. Really listening. And you’ve been talking non-stop about equations. It’s only fair I get a little reward for being so studious.”

Felix’s lips twitched at the corner, but he didn’t break. “Reward? I didn’t realise listening was an activity worthy of prizes.” There was a playful bite to his words now, as if he were starting to realise just how much you were enjoying this.

You let your smile linger. “Oh, but it is,” you replied, leaning forward just enough to close the space between you two. “I’m being patient. I’m being good. And that, Felix, deserves something in return.”

The words came out with just enough sweetness that it almost sounded genuine, though the challenge behind them was unmistakable. Felix blinked once, twice, his brow furrowing as he processed it, before he straightened slightly, eyes narrowing in mock suspicion. “And what exactly would you want as a reward? Another lecture on algebra?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, rolling your eyes. “Nah, I think I’ve had my fill of that for the evening. Maybe you could entertain me instead?” You let the word entertain hang in the air between you, casual but heavy with implication.

Felix hesitated, a momentary falter before he regained his composure. “Entertain you?” He leaned forward, now more intrigued than flustered. “I think you’re the one who’s been doing the distracting here.”

Your lips quirked at that. “Oh? You think so?” You shifted slightly, your body angling toward him in a way that felt just a touch too close. “I’m just sitting here, Felix. But it seems like you’re the one who can’t quite keep his mind on the equations.”

Felix’s gaze sharpened, though there was a faint flush creeping into his cheeks. He cleared his throat, trying to play it cool. “I’m focused,” he said, his voice even, though the tension in it was palpable. “And I’m not the one who’s been looking at the clock every five minutes.”

You let out a dramatic sigh. “I’m just trying to learn, Felix. I can’t help it if your genius is just... so distracting.”

His eyes flickered at the word genius, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Distracting, huh?” He paused, then leaned forward, lowering his voice just enough to make your heart race. “Maybe you’re the one who’s distracting me. You’ve been distracting me from the very beginning.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the shift in his tone. Felix wasn’t just playing along anymore. He was starting to push back, and it felt different—more deliberate, more confident.

“Oh really?” you murmured, the words slipping from your lips with a mix of amusement and challenge. “How exactly am I distracting you, Felix?”

Felix’s lips quirked into a half-smile, the self-assurance growing in him like a steady wave. “Well, for one, you won’t stop trying to flirt with me. I’ve been trying to focus on these problems,” he gestured to the scattered equations on the table, “but all I can think about is how much you enjoy messing with me.”

The words were out before you could stop them, a laugh escaping you. “Flirting? Me? I’m just being friendly, Felix.”

“Friendly?” he repeated, eyes narrowing as he leaned closer, so close that you could feel the heat from his body. His voice lowered, edged with something darker. “You’ve been pushing me ever since we started. Don’t act like you don’t know what you’re doing.”

You swallowed, but the smile never left your lips. You weren’t expecting him to bite back this hard, but you liked it. “So, what?” you teased. “Am I a little too much for you?”

Felix didn’t flinch, not this time. He matched your gaze, leaning in just enough to close the gap, his voice a low murmur. “Maybe you are. But maybe I like it that way.”

Your breath caught, his words hanging in the air like a promise you were unsure if you wanted to acknowledge it just yet. Felix, the shy, smart tutor, was not so shy anymore. He was unafraid to meet you head-on, and that shift was more intoxicating than you would like to admit.

“Well,” you said, your voice breathy, the teasing edge still there but softer now, “I’m starting to think you might like the distraction, Felix.”

He paused, and for the first time, you saw the flicker of hesitation in his eyes. Then, with a smirk that was all confidence, he leaned back, his posture changing entirely. “Maybe I do,” he said, his voice even, his gaze still holding yours, “but I’m not sure you’re ready for it. You think you've got me all figured out, hm?”

You couldn’t help the subconcious reaction in you—your smile widened, and the challenge grew thicker in your chest. “Oh, I don’t need to figure you out. I already know what buttons to press. It’s just you're a little more... unpredictable than I thought.”

Felix’s eyes narrowed, his expression now a perfect mixture of amusement and something else—something sharper. “Unpredictable?” he repeated, his tone lowering. “I think you’re the unpredictable one here. You’ve been pushing my buttons from the start. But now...”

His voice took on a teasing, almost dangerous edge. “Now I’m starting to wonder how far you’re willing to push before you realise you might’ve gone too far.”

“You think I’ve gone too far?” you asked, your voice soft and mocking, and not doing very well at disguising how your heart skips beats when his voice drops in the way it has. “I’m just getting started, Felix.”

He leaned even closer, his voice now a near-whisper. “Then you’d better be careful,” he said, the words so close to a challenge that you couldn’t quite tell where the game ended and something else began. “Because if you keep pushing me, I might just let you go too far.”

For a moment, you both stared at each other, the air thick with a tension neither of you seemed willing to break.

“Well,” you said, leaning back, your voice back to that teasing edge, “looks like you’re the one distracting me now, huh?”

Felix smirked, leaning back in his own chair, but there was something in his posture now—something that made you realise he hadn’t been flustered at all. “You’ve been distracting me all this time,” he said, his voice steady. “But I think you’re right about one thing—you’re just getting started.”

You blinked, caught by surprise at the intensity in his voice. You were uncertain what had just shifted, but something between you had changed—Felix wasn’t just the shy, nervous tutor anymore. He was playing the game, and he was playing it well.

You barely made it through another page. Felix had resumed his explanation, something about polynomial division, but your thoughts were no longer tethered to the textbook. They wandered—to the way his fingers drummed lightly against the table, to the slight rasp in his voice when he became too focused to notice. He had not looked flustered since that last retort. In fact, it felt as though you were the one squirming now, each shift in his gaze a little too assured, each silence weighted with implication.

“You done spacing out again?” he asked, lifting his eyes just as yours trailed down the slope of his jaw.

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “Was not spacing out. I was contemplating the deeper meaning of poly-whatever division.”

Felix gave a slow nod, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Right. Deep. Like a spiritual experience.”

You exhaled a light laugh, chin propped in your hand. “You know, for someone who spends his nights talking to himself on Discord, you’re getting real confident.”

He blinked. “Wait—how do you know I—”

“I have ears,” you said simply. “And the guys talk. You all aren't exactly quiet.”

Felix stared at you, momentarily thrown. Then, in a move that felt strangely bold, he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Okay. If you’re gonna mock the way I unwind, you’ve gotta at least try one of my games.”

“Try one?”

“Yeah. Come to my place. Pick a game. Let’s see if you’re any good.”

You raised a brow, amused by the casual offer—more amused by the confident glint in his eyes. “Is this a trap?”

“No,” he said, standing and stretching, his shirt riding up just slightly to reveal a sliver of pale skin. “But if you lose, you have to stop pretending you’re not interested.”

“And if I win?”

Felix paused at that, considering you with a gaze that lingered too long to be platonic. Then, with a crooked grin: “You won’t.”

You followed him out, the air charged in that low-simmer kind of way, the silence between you growing more alive with each step. His apartment was only a few minutes’ walk off campus, small and cozy, the kind of place that smelled faintly like cologne, old textbooks, and lavender laundry sheets.

“Shoes off,” he called as he moved toward the living room, kicking his own beside the door. “And no cheating.”

You stepped inside, eyes sweeping the space—books stacked on shelves and windowsills, a mess of cables near the desk, and, of course, a massive monitor glowing faintly in the dim light.

You turned toward him slowly, lips curling. “This is... alarmingly nerdy.”

He handed you a controller. “I know. You gonna keep talking or you gonna lose?”

"Put your money where your mouth is, Felix. Try me and find out."

You sat on the edge of his low couch, controller in hand, your knees drawn close and posture too poised for someone allegedly ready to relax. Felix, in contrast, looked perfectly at home—hoodie sleeves shoved up to his elbows, one leg tucked under the other as he navigated the menus with muscle memory. His jaw was set, eyes flicking over the screen, the pale glow catching on his cheekbones, that singular beauty which softened every time he forgot to guard it.

“Alright,” he said, voice casual as though he had not just invited you into his domain. “Simple practice match first. No stakes. You just gotta learn the controls.”

“I know what a joystick is,” you replied, shifting beside him, your shoulder brushing against his lightly. “I’m not a caveman.”

“No,” he said, glancing sidelong at you. “Just an academic liability.”

You made a sound of mock offense, elbow nudging his arm. “Wow. The ego on you.”

“I learned from the best.”

“Oh, so I taught you arrogance?”

Felix smirked, his eyes not tearing from the screen. “You’re an excellent role model.”

You were not entirely paying attention to the tutorial. Your fingers moved, but your thoughts trailed elsewhere—the rise and fall of his breath beside you, how his hands moved on the plastic controller with such nimbleness, the way his voice dipped low when explaining something technical, the subtle rasp that crept in the longer he talked.

“Here—hold A and rotate here. Like this.” He shifted, his hand coming over yours before you could react, guiding your fingers carefully. His touch was light, but deliberate, and far too warm.

You glanced at him.

He didn't move away.

“Okay,” you said slowly. “So... this is your master plan? Lure girls into your apartment and seduce them with thumb placement?”

Felix’s ears flushed red immediately. “What? No—no. That is not—”

“Mmhm,” you hummed, feigning deep thought. “Honestly, it is kind of working. But you should pace yourself, you know? Not every girl likes it rough on the joystick.”

He sputtered. Actually sputtered. “That is not—You—God—”

You grinned, victorious.

“I knew you were a menace,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face.

You tilted your head toward him, gaze lingering. “Still think you can handle tutoring me twice a week?”

Felix exhaled slowly, his expression unreadable now—focused, perhaps, or maybe just attempting not to combust. He turned his attention back to the screen, but not before murmuring under his breath:

“Barely.”

The practice round ticked down to its final seconds, the countdown flashing across the screen like a warning bell. The room around you was thick with warmth and shadow, your shared laughter from earlier settling into something quieter now—something edged.

Felix sat forward with that same focus as before, fingers loose on the controller, brow furrowed, jaw taut with effort. You watched the light flicker across his features—the soft glow of the monitor catching in his lashes, gilding the curve of his cheekbone. He hadn't even noticed how close you were.

But you had.

You tilted your body just enough that your thigh brushed his. “So intense,” you murmured. “Bet your heart rate goes up when your health bar drops.”

He huffed a soft laugh. “You talk too much when you're losing.”

“You're cute when you pretend this game matters.”

He finally looked at you. Not a glance, not a flicker—looked, head turning toward you fully, slow and unreadable.

“I'm cute?” he asked, tone deceptively mild.

You leaned in, feigning casual, letting your lips hover just near his ear. “Adorably so. Like a sweet little overachiever who's never had anyone play dirty with him before.”

Felix’s breath hitched. You felt it more than heard it.

He turned back to the screen, but his voice had shifted—lower now, smoother, each word curling with quiet intent. “Let's make this interesting.”

You tilted your head, eyeing him. “Go on.”

He pressed a button—your character flailed helplessly on-screen.

“If I win…” he said slowly, “you have to tell me exactly what kind of thoughts you have when you look at me, when you listen to me.”

Your grip on the controller tightened and your heart lurched, were you that obvious?

“What do I get if I win?” you asked, trying not to sound too breathless, too flustered.

Felix’s smirk curved like something dangerous. “Then I want to hear the same thing. Just... slower.”

“Alright, fine. But one more warm-up. Need to level the playing field.”

He answered with a chuckle and a soft shake of his head. The 'rematch' button was selected.

Competitive silence hovered in the air longer than it should have.

Your character lay defeated on the screen, the soft flicker of pixelated flames the only movement in the room. Felix had not moved either—still leaned forward, still watching you, though his gaze had shifted. Less playful now. More precise. Like he had studied the moment, found the crack in your composure, and was waiting to press into it.

You shifted where you sat, suddenly aware of the heat in the room, of how close his knee was to yours, how low his voice had gone and how it still echoed in your skin. His eyes dropped—briefly—to your mouth. Then rose again.

“So,” you said, clearing your throat. “That was a warm-up, right?”

His lips curved, slow and wolfish. Not a smile. A promise.

“Practice,” he corrected. “That was just practice.”

And then—he sat back.

Not away from you. Into himself. Like something in him had settled. His posture eased, but his presence intensified, like the air between you had suddenly thickened.

He resumed the game, eyes still on the screen, voice low and smooth. “Ready to actually play?”

You blinked. “What was I doing before?”

He clicked a button. The screen glowed. “Losing. Distracted. Making it too easy.”

“You're—”

“Still winning,” he cut in, and this time the look he gave you was direct, calculated. “But now… now I want to see what you're like when you stop pretending that you 'don't care'.”

You felt your stomach drop and flutter all at once.

Felix shifted again, closer this time—close enough that you could feel the press of his thigh against yours, the heat of him radiating through the minimal space between you. And then his voice came again—just behind your ear, thick as honey and impossible to block out.

“No more practice,” he murmured, the lowness of his voice shooting heat straight to your gut. “Show me how good you really are.”

You exhaled slowly and reset your grip on the controller, forcing your shoulders to loosen, your jaw to unclench. You had teased him first. This was just payback. You could handle it. It was still just a game.

But Felix was no longer playing the same one.

He didn't fill the silence between rounds with jokes or quips anymore. He didn't glance at your screen. He didn't need to.

He stayed close. Still and aware and quiet—except for that voice.

Not even a full sentence. Just fragments, murmured in that devastating octave, as if they slipped out of him without effort. Too casual. Too effective.

“Focus,” he whispered, as your thumb slipped on the analog stick again.

You swallowed hard.

“You're holding your breath,” he said next, voice lilting downward like a slow descent into something dangerous. “Is it me?”

You turned your head toward him—your mistake.

Because his eyes were already on you. Lazy, unreadable, and far too warm. His gaze flicked to your lips for half a second before he leaned in, so close you could feel the shape of his breath against your cheek when he spoke again.

“Tell me what you hear.”

Your pulse kicked hard against your throat.

“My voice,” he murmured, lips barely moving, “or your thoughts?”

You blinked, rapidly turning to look back at the screen, face burning. He had guessed. Or no—known. Felt it in the way you tensed. The way your thighs pressed together, just slightly, when he got close enough to speak low.

He smiled, soft and dangerous. “Thought so.”

You fumbled a combo. He leaned back, hands never leaving his controller, the heat of him still very much present.

“You keep teasing like you want me to lose,” he said. “But I think you want me to win.”

“I do not,” you said too quickly, too sharply, and he laughed—quiet, deep, the sound dragging along your spine.

“Then concentrate,” he said. “You're about to lose again.”

And that would be right, you did.

He paused the screen.

This time, he did not gloat. He set the controller down and turned toward you with a steady, almost clinical curiosity—like you were a riddle he was determined to solve.

“So,” he said, voice gentled back into a hush, “what exactly is it?”

You blinked. “What?”

He leaned in again, this time letting his mouth hover near your ear, not touching, just close enough that your breath hitched.

“The pitch?” he asked. “The rasp? Or is it just knowing I'm using it on purpose?”

You could not answer. Not right away. He waited.

Still.

Quiet.

Patient.

And then, softly—“Tell me everything. You lost the bet. You owe me that much.”

You hesitated—just a moment, but it was enough. The truth sat heavy in your chest, and you could feel it like a secret you had tried to keep hidden. You knew why he made your breath catch. It wasn’t just the voice. It was how it wrapped around you, how it hit those places you tried not to think about.

But now that he had cornered you—his eyes steady, voice calm, as if he knew—you could hardly breathe without him seeing right through you.

You blinked quickly, trying to steady yourself, but it did not work.

“I think,” you started, your voice a little too tight, “I think it’s the way you speak when you’re not... trying.”

Felix’s lips quirked, like a secret he had not expected you to admit.

“You mean when I’m casual?”

“Not casual,” you forced out, your heartbeat picking up. “When you’re—” You tried to think of the word, but it was impossible. “When you’re barely trying at all. Like you're not even aware of how much you're—" You stopped yourself, eyes narrowing. “You're affecting me. You’re just… too good at it.”

Felix leaned back, lips curling in amusement, eyes locked on you like a challenge. He wasn’t going to let you off easy. You were playing this game now.

“So, you like it, then? My voice?”

You shot him a look, half-rolling your eyes. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

“Mm. But I think you can say it louder.”

“You’re pushing it,” you warned, voice low, but Felix knew—he knew exactly what he was doing. You could see the way he leaned closer, just enough to make your pulse spike, his eyes twinkling like he was the cat and you were the mouse.

And then he spoke again, his voice darker this time—sweeter in its low rumble.

“You like it when I’m casual, right? When I don’t even try to make it sound like I’m saying it for you. That’s the part you’re not telling me, isn’t it?”

You swallowed, trying to look away, but you couldn’t. He had you in his grip now—his voice, his words, everything about the way he knew. And he was right. You couldn’t stop yourself from reacting to it.

But he had no plans of letting up.

“Or is it something else, hmm?” Felix’s voice lowered even further, an almost unbearable, husky murmur. “Do you like it when I speak just like this? Like I’m giving you everything you don’t want, but you can’t pull away.”

You sucked in a breath, trying to maintain some sense of control. “You really think you know that much about me?”

He grinned, that teasing flicker in his eyes returning. “I do now.”

And then—he did it again. His voice, barely above a whisper—“Focus. You’re still distracted.”

You flinched, shifting uncomfortably, and then—just to push back—you threw him a glance, daring him.

“You know,” you said, voice dropping in challenge, “I think you like knowing how much it gets to me.”

Felix froze, his gaze sharpening. The edge of something dangerous settled between you both.

“Is that so?”

You didn’t flinch this time. You met him, eye for eye. “You’re not the only one who can play this game.”

“Prove it,” he said, his voice lowering to the kind of hunger that made your breath hitch. “Let me hear it. Let me hear what really gets you worked up.”

And that—that was the final challenge.

You leaned in, close enough that your words came out soft, teasing, barely more than a whisper.

“You really want to know?” You paused just a beat. “I think it’s the way you think you have all the answers, but you’re about to lose.”

Felix laughed, dark and quiet, but there was something heavier in it now. His fingers, light and steady, brushed the edge of your knee. “Is that so? Somehow you still think you’ve got the upper hand. That's bold of you.”

You tried—you really tried—to stay focused, to force your eyes on the controller, the animations of the pause window, anything. But every second, Felix’s voice seeped into your skin, his words curling around your senses like smoke. It was intoxicating, heavy, and too much.

You could feel your pulse quicken, the rhythm of your breath growing shallow. His voice, so warm, so rich, pressed against your ear, vibrating through your bones. Each word he murmured was like a wave, pulling you deeper into his orbit.

"Felix," you whispered, barely able to contain the way your breath hitched in your throat. “Stop... teasing."

A grin tugged at his lips. He knew. God, he knew how much he was getting to you. The bastard knew exactly how his words made you tremble inside, the way his voice curled around you, making it impossible to think about anything else.

“I’m not teasing, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice a lazy drawl, thick with satisfaction. “I’m just making sure you’re paying attention.”

You couldn’t deny it. You weren’t focused on the game anymore—not even close. Every syllable that slipped from his lips was a distraction, a pull, a magnet that made your body feel like it was on fire. It was as if his words had their own gravity, pulling you under, drowning you in the sound of him.

“Focus,” he whispered again, his breath ghosting over your ear, making your skin prickle, your whole body flush. He was so close now, too close, and yet it wasn’t enough. You wanted more. You needed more.

You felt his fingers brush over your wrist, light and teasing, sending jolts of electricity shooting up your arm. He knew exactly how to touch you, knew exactly how to get you to react. His fingers were like fire against your skin—deliberate, slow, dragging out the tension.

“You’ve already lost,” Felix murmured, his voice thick with a kind of wicked amusement. The words sank into your chest, heavy and final, but there was something in his tone—something low and dangerous—that made your stomach flip. “You just don’t want to admit it.”

Your throat went dry as the heat in your body intensified. The screen was just a blur now. Your eyes could barely focus on it. Your whole world was Felix—his presence, his scent, his voice dripping with authority. His words, coated in that delicious, teasing edge, twisted in your mind and made your body react before you could even think about it.

And then—finally—you gave in.

“Okay,” you breathed out, voice barely a whisper, but it was enough. “I lost. You won.”

Felix’s breath shuddered out, a soft exhale of satisfaction. He didn’t move right away, didn’t rush to claim his rightful victory. No, he took his time—because he knew, and you knew, he didn’t need to rush. He had you exactly where he wanted you.

His fingers traced the line of your wrist, slow and deliberate, his touch sending shivers across your skin. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from him. The tension in the room was palpable, a heavy weight pressing down on you, and you could feel the heat between you building, curling in your gut.

Felix’s voice dropped even lower, a velvet murmur that practically slid under your skin. “I knew that was coming, I told you you wouldn't win, remember?” he said, his lips close enough that you could feel the breath against your ear. The words were a command, wrapped in satisfaction and something darker—something you weren’t sure you were ready for.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing over your ear in the most maddening way, his voice practically dripping into your ear. “But it’s not over yet, sweetheart. You’re still here. Still with me.”

You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think. You were lost in the sound of him, the way his voice felt like a touch, like a caress. You wanted him to stop, wanted him to give you space, but the truth was—you didn’t want him to stop. You didn’t want to fight it anymore. Every inch of you screamed for him to keep going, to make you lose again, because losing meant he’d take more, and you’d give him more.

He took his time, waiting. Watching you squirm. Watching the way your chest rose and fell, the flush on your face. He was savoring this—savoring the way he had you wrapped around his finger without even touching you.

Felix’s lips brushed your ear one last time. “Do you want me to stop?” he murmured, his voice laced with that same wicked teasing. “Or do you want me to make you lose all over again?”

Your body was trembling in desire, the answer so close to your lips that it nearly slipped out on its own, but you were still holding back. You still wanted to fight. But when his fingers brushed down your arm again, slow and deliberate, the touch igniting your skin, you knew.

This was no longer a game. This was something else.

And you were far too gone to turn back.

“Yes,” you breathed, unable to hold back any longer, the word slipping out in a breathless rush. “I want you to win.”

Felix let out a low, satisfied chuckle, the sound dripping with so much pleasure you could barely stand it.

“Good, then let’s see just how much you can handle," Felix chuckled darkly, and in that moment, everything changed. The teasing was gone. The games were over. He moved with purpose, his lips crashed against yours, the kiss hungry and desperate, as if he had been waiting for this moment. His hands gripped your hips, lifting you as he pulled you into his lap, not once breaking away from your lips.

His body was firm, hard, and you felt every inch of him pressed against you, his desire unmistakable. It was like electricity crackling between you, sparking the need, the hunger you’d been trying so desperately to control.

Your thighs bracketed his, your hands gripping his shoulders like a lifeline as you subconciously rocked your hips down against him. The thick, hard length of him pressed up between your legs, and even with both of you still clothed, it felt obscene—too good, too much. Every movement dragged your against your aching core, the rough texture of denim making you gasp, tremble.

Felix’s hands gripped your hips tight, fingers digging in like he needed to ground himself. “Fuck,” he groaned, his voice dark and wrecked, like gravel dragged across velvet. “Do you feel what you’re doing to me?”

You nodded, breathless, hips rolling down again just to hear that sound leave him. His head dropped back against the couch for a moment, jaw clenched, lips parted. You could see how hard he was beneath you, how much effort it took to let you keep control.

But you never really had it—not with the way he looked up at you now, eyes dark, mouth curling into something hungry. “Move for me, baby,” he said, voice dropping even lower, like a secret whispered straight to your spine. “Let me feel you.”

You obeyed without thinking, grinding down against him in slow, aching circles, chasing friction, chasing heat. His breath caught, hands tightening as he guided your rhythm—deliberate, delicious. Every roll of your hips dragged a new sound from him, low and broken, and it made you feel powerful—until he growled.

“Enough teasing,” he muttered, and before you could blink, he sat up, chest flush to yours, arms locking around your waist.

Now it was him rocking up into you, grinding hard enough to make your breath stutter, your back arch. You clung to him, whimpering at the new angle, the intensity.

“You’re gonna make me lose it,” he hissed against your throat, voice cracking with restraint. “Keep grinding like that, and I’ll come just like this. With you on top of me, clothes on, moaning my name.”

He buried his face in your neck, teeth grazing your skin, and you could barely hold on. There was no air, no room, nothing but the heat of him, the way his hips met yours again and again, perfectly, mercilessly.

You were soaked. Shaking. Seconds away from shattering.

He whispered in that wrecked, perfect voice—“I don’t know how much longer I can take this.”

You could feel your pulse racing, your body betraying you with each passing second. You wanted more—wanted him to take you, claim you, make you lose all over again. You needed him to show you just how far you could go with him.

“Then take me,” you breathed out, the words slipping from your lips without thought. You wanted him, wanted everything he was offering. “I’m already yours, Felix. Do what you want with me.”

His eyes darkened, a predatory gleam flashing in them as he heard your words. The smirk on his lips deepened, as if he had been waiting for you to finally admit it—to finally give him the green light to take control completely.

Without a word, Felix flipped you both, placing you beneath him with a precision that sent a rush of heat through your body. The world around you seemed to fade into nothingness, leaving only him—his touch, his voice, his body against yours.

He paused, hovering above you for just a moment, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath. His eyes searched yours, a silent question in them—one you didn’t need to answer. You had already given him every word he needed in the moment. He was in control now, and you were more than willing to let him have it.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice a velvet growl that made your skin prickle. His lips crashed down on yours again, this time with an intensity that stole your breath away, the kiss hard, demanding, as if he needed you just as badly as you needed him. After he had stripped you down to your panties, his hands roamed freely, touching you with a hunger that made you ache.

His lips trailed down your neck, nipping at the soft skin there, then trailing down to your chest, where he focused his mouth on your breast, rolling his tongue around your nipple, and his left hand attending to your other breast, kneading the supple skin.

His right hand moved lower, slipping under the waistband of your panties to trace his fingertips ever so lightly through your folds.

"Look at you, so eager. This wet for me, already?" He murmured against your skin, moving away to stare at your pussy, to which he dragged his tongue across his lip. If you weren't embarassed yet, you certainly were by now. "All I've really done is talk to you. You want this that badly? Where did all that biting confidence from this afternoon go, hm?"

You barely managed to muster a reply before his hands fled their posts to lift your hips, to allow for his teeth to catch the elastic of your panties and drag them down to your ankles and tossed to who knows where. He tossed them with his mouth. That image would be engraved in your brain forever.

Wordlessly, he dove straight in.

His tongue moved with a slow, devastating precision—savoring every inch of you as though you were a delicacy he had waited lifetimes to taste. Each stroke was skillful, hungry, and maddeningly thorough, his mouth worshipping you with an unrelenting hunger that bordered on reverence. His hands gripped your thighs, fingers digging into the softness as he spread you wide for him, holding you open as though he couldn't bear to lose a single moment of access.

When he moaned against you—low, rough, trembling with need—it reverberated straight through your core. The sound alone nearly broke you.

You shamelessly let out moans, huffs, and groans as needed, you were helpless beneath the weight of his mouth, and he only smiled proudly against you—tongue flicking over your clit with wicked precision, then sucking hard enough to make your vision go white. You cried out, hips jolting, thighs beginning to close around his head in a desperate, overwhelmed instinct.

You shattered with a sob, your release tearing through you fast and violent, your body trembling as the orgasm overtook you—but he did not stop.

He held you in place, relentless and devoted, licking you through it with obscene focus, tongue fucking you slowly, deeply, while your body broke apart beneath him. You were unraveling in his hands, and still—he kept going until your twitching had slowed to a stop.

When he finally pulled away, his chin was slick, his lips glistening. “You taste like a fucking dream.”

You moaned, your hands clutching at his hoodie before he leant up so he could strip it off, revealing smooth, pale skin stretched over lean muscle, his chest heaving with restraint. His eyes were molten, locked on yours as he tugged your thighs apart with strong hands, settling between them once again like he belonged there—because he did.

You barely had time to catch your breath before his fingers replaced his tongue—two of them sliding deep inside you, curling just right, hitting that perfect spot that made you cry out. He worked you open with smooth, steady strokes, watching you unravel under his touch, his thumb drawing slow, tight circles around your clit while his free hand pushed your shirt up to bare your chest.

"You’ve been so good for me," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "But I want to hear you say it again. I want you to beg me."

Your heart raced, your mind spinning with the control he had over you. You could feel the fire building inside you, your breath shallow and fast as you fought to keep yourself from completely losing it.

“Felix, please,” you gasped, eyes glassy with need. “I want your cock inside me. I need it.”

"That's it, who am I to deny such a pretty plea like that?"

He pulled back, his fingers slipping from you, wet and glistening as he reached down to undo his belt. His cock sprang free, flushed and thick, veins prominent along the shaft. You reached for him, but he caught your wrist, pinning it beside your head.

He lined himself up, nudging at your entrance, dragging the head through your slick folds until you were trembling with anticipation. Then, with one slow, merciless thrust, he filled you.

You gasped, nails digging into his back as your walls stretched to accommodate him, the pressure overwhelming in the best way. He paused only a moment, letting you adjust to the size of him, before drawing his hips back and slamming into you again.

“Relax, breathe,” he murmured, pulling back slightly, only to thrust deeper, his breath ragged against your skin. “I’ve got you.”

He groaned as he buried his face in your neck and set a punishing rhythm, each thrust deeper, harder, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, meeting him thrust for thrust, the angle perfect, the drag of his cock inside you enough to make your vision blur. His hand snaked up to your throat, fingers curling there—not tight, just enough to remind you who was in control.

“You’re mine,” he growled into your ear, biting the lobe. “All of you. Say it.”

“I’m yours,” you gasped. “God, Felix, I’m—”

And when the words finally slipped from your lips, breathless and raw, Felix’s eyes darkened with triumph. “Good girl,” he muttered. “I knew you were mine.”

He shifted, hips grinding against yours as he fucked into you, stroking that sweet, devastating spot again and again until you were sobbing with the need to come. His thumb found your clit again, circling fast and merciless now, pushing you to the brink.

And then you were falling—your body clenching around him, stars exploding behind your eyes as your second orgasm ran through you like fire. Felix didn't stop, chasing his own high, thrusting into you through your climax until his rhythm broke and he spilled inside you with a shudder and a curse.

He collapsed onto you, both of you panting, slick with sweat and trembling from the aftershocks. The tension had finally broken, but you could feel it lingering, the heat between you not quite fading. Felix didn’t seem in a rush to pull away. His gaze lingered on you, and you could see the soft smile tugging at his lips, the same man who had been bold, teasing, and oh so confident moments ago, now softened by the shared intimacy.

“You lost, by the way,” Felix murmured with a playful smile, his fingers tracing over your lips. “And I’m going to make sure you remember that. You were so embarrassed under me.”

“I thought I was supposed to be the one flustering you,” you said softly, voice not quite steady, betraying the remnants of your earlier surrender.

He tilted his head, curls falling over his brow. “You do. Constantly.”

You let out a breathless laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah, but you like it now.”

“I liked it before,” he murmured. Then, quieter, as though it startled even him, “I liked you before.”

The air shifted.

You blinked up at him, smile faltering—not in discomfort, but in the way something deep in your chest tugged, slow and aching. “You… mean that?”

Felix looked at you like he had studied you for days, like you were an answer to something he never wanted to say aloud. “I'm not very good at pretending,” he confessed. “Not with you.”

There was no teasing in that. Just truthful, soft, and raw tenderness.

Your hands found his cheeks, thumbs brushing the warmth of his flushed skin. “You really have the worst timing,” you whispered, trying to smile. “Saying stupid sweet things when I'm still technically trying to beat you.”

Felix smiled back—crooked, lopsided, unfairly boyish. “Then lose. Again. On purpose this time.”

You leaned upward, just close enough to feel his breath catch against your lips. “And if I do?”

His eyes dropped to your mouth. “Then let me make it worth your while.”

You kissed him slowly, like the match had burned down, like the game had ended, and only the wanting remained.

guys pls lmk if the long stuff is too much,,,,, i keep getting carried away LOL thx for reading allat

taglist (ask to be added here): @petersasteria @gdinthehouseee @aizshallnotbefound @burlesquerade @floofeh-purpi @ldydeath @wcnderlnds @ttturnitup @breakmeoff @sherrayyyyy @ricecake9999 @leni111 @scream-queen-25 @spiritualgirly444 @fairyprincesslvr21 @loonybunny1 @uuchii @sherxoo @m-325

[asterafroditis]

𐔌 . ⋮ studying for finals .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆ Third Years x gn! reader

𓏵 930 words

ᝰ.ᐟ headcanons, no pronouns used, fluff, once again, pardon the French in Rook's part; I just used a translator TT

In honor of finishing my finals hehe >< First Years are done! Second Years are done, too! feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

Cater’s cheerful on the outside, but you can tell he’s not super thrilled about studying, he’s more into vibes than vocab drills. Still, he sticks around because he wants to help.

He’ll suggest making colorful flashcards or recording voice memos to make memorizing more fun. He’s surprisingly organized when he has structure.

“Ughhh, do we really gotta go over this section again? Wait, no no—I'm not ditching! Just…brain break time?”

He encourages you with lighthearted jabs that never feel mean.

“Hey, look at you go! If you keep this up, I might have to start copying your notes!”

You’ll catch him checking your focus sometimes, because if you’re serious about passing, then he will be too.

Later he might post a vague Magicam story like “Studying with real ones hits different.” (It’s about you. You just don’t know it.)

─────────────────────────

Trey’s the ideal balance of calm and productive. Studying with him feels like sipping warm tea; you feel focused, safe, and cared for.

He’s great at helping you memorize, especially if it’s related to logic or patterns.

If your stomach growls, he’s already reaching for a snack box.

“Take a break. A fed brain is a smart brain.”

When you thank him, he smiles softly.

“Of course. I don’t mind helping you. You work hard, and that matters.”

You leave the session with a full mind and a fuller heart.

─────────────────────────

Leona acts like he’s so bored to be studying, but he’s sharper than he lets on.

The two of you probably end up studying while lying in the sun somewhere, textbooks propped open lazily.

He explains things with blunt efficiency and grumbles if you miss easy questions, but never actually leaves.

“Tch. I already told you how to do that. C’mon, you’re smarter than this.”

But the moment you get something right?

“... Heh, See? Knew you’d catch on.”

He never says it, but studying with you keeps him grounded. He’d rather be here than anywhere else.

─────────────────────────

Studying with Vil feels like an academic runway—organized, composed, and elegantly intense.

He has high expectations, but he’s not cold—he wants you to shine.

When you struggle, he gently adjusts your notes or posture, never harsh, just… precise.

“Hold yourself with pride. Intelligence and beauty go hand in hand.”

If you impress him, he offers genuine praise, touching his chest like a pleased director.

“Very good. See? I knew you were capable of excellence.”

You leave feeling like you just passed a personal trial. You want to be better around him.

─────────────────────────

Studying with Rook is an experience. He romanticizes everything; he calls your learning process “sublime,” your confusion “a poetic struggle,” and your notes “a canvas.”

He watches your face intensely as you read, commenting on how you furrow your brows in thought.

“Magnifique! Such raw focus—c’est inspirant!”

Somehow he knows random facts that are on the exam, and he quizzes you with flair.

He’ll dramatically recite questions like they’re lines in a play, then wink when you answer correctly.

It’s weirdly motivating… and kind of fun.

─────────────────────────

When you first ask to study with Idia, he panics. “W-Wait, like, in-person? Together? In the same room??” You can practically hear the error sounds in his head.

But he doesn’t say no. After a few awkward silences and you settling in quietly, he lets you stay.

Idia doesn’t really “study” in the traditional sense—he breezes through calculations and logic-based subjects like he’s speedrunning a strategy game.

He’ll mutter explanations more to himself than to you, but when you ask questions, he’ll blink and repeat it more clearly (and slowly).

“Oh. Uh… right, okay. So if you think of the equation like cooldown rotation, then this variable's basically your setup move…”

He never expects praise, so when you do praise him, he just about bluescreens. His hair flickers pink for 0.3 seconds before he turns away with a rushed “N-Not really… It’s not like I did anything cool…”

The study session ends in silence, but it’s not uncomfortable. Before you leave, he says, without looking up, “If you… ever need help again… I guess I’m around.”

It’s not an invitation, not exactly. But you both know you’ll be back.

─────────────────────────

Studying with Malleus is quiet, focused, and oddly soothing. He asks questions that feel more like philosophical riddles, and you both end up tangenting into historical lore.

He’s incredibly patient. If you stumble, he waits for you to find your footing.

“Take your time. Knowledge is not a race.”

He listens to your thoughts with full attention, occasionally giving this small, amused smile when you think aloud.

If you fall asleep mid-study, he quietly watches over you like a protective shadow.

You always leave feeling like you learned something deeper than academics.

─────────────────────────

Studying with Lilia is unpredictable. Sometimes he’s wise and composed, helping you connect concepts like a veteran mage. Other times, he’s humming pop songs and offering “ancient” study tips that are 500 years out of date.

“In my day, we wrote essays with quills made from wyvern feathers! So much character…”

He makes learning fun, even if he occasionally leads you wildly off-topic.

He praises your efforts with a proud chuckle.

“You’ve improved so much! I’d say I’m proud, but I’ve always been proud of you.”

You never know what to expect—but it’s always a lovely time.

[pukefactory]

Since yandere requests are acceptable, could I please ask for headcanons of yandere ENA (dream bqq) and female (human) researcher who by freak accident got stranded in ENA's dimension and is now trying to find her way back to her own dimension? Thank you for considering. 🖤

•☽────✧˖°˖ I KNOW YOU LIKE IT ˖°˖✧────☾•

★ Summary: A Compilation of Headcannons Featuring Yandere Salesperson Ena X Female Researcher Reader

★ Character(s): Salesperson Ena (Ena: Dream BBQ)

★ Genre: Headcanons, SFW

★ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

★ Image Credits: @JoelG

☆ “You must be new around here.” That’s how it starts. With Salesperson Ena, grinning sharp like a lottery win you can’t return. Your arrival—a scientific accident—deeply intrigues her. A human? An organic mind with independent thought? “This could be a divinely disruptive merger of assets,” she says, practically purring as she paces around you in a flicker-dizzy showroom fantasy. You’ve barely opened your mouth to explain when she slaps a sticky “Property of Ena Industries” sticker to your lab coat and smiles. “Trademark acquired.” You laugh awkwardly. Surely she’s joking. Surely.

☆ The Meanie side doesn’t like jokes. She doesn’t like the way you flinch when the megaphones scream. She doesn’t like how your brain stutters and stalls trying to process the physics-defying structures of this dimension. “Stupid researcher,” she hisses one day, when you try to explain gravity to a cube with feelings. “You think you’re so smart, but you’re too soft to survive here. You’ll die without me, you dumb infant.” But you don’t cry. You just stare at her and say quietly, “I want to go home.” She freezes. Then, softly, she whispers: “…So do I.”

☆ Your notes are missing. Your tools vanish. Your portable interdimensional frequency reader is now a frog-shaped potato. “Coincidences,” Ena chirps, biting into a jello telephone. “You must’ve misplaced your science. Happens all the time. Why don’t you rest instead? You’re stressed. I can tell.” Every time you get closer to building a way back, something explodes or goes wobbly. Ena is always nearby. Always helpful. Always watching with that fractured glee, like she’s waiting for you to break the way she did.

☆ “You make my brain feel like a scream and a lullaby,” she says one night. She curls beside you, muttering about the frogs and the sky again. She can’t sleep unless she knows where you are. You caught her watching you once—standing beside your bed with her mitt-shaped hand resting on your throat, not pressing, just… measuring. Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. She whispered, “If I hold you still, will the world stop moving?”

☆ She gets jealous. But not in the normal way. Once, a mannequin offered you a map. You took it. Ena’s smile split down the middle and her red side giggled, “Unregulated information-sharing! That’s dangerous~” then her yellow side intercepted, “TRAITOR!” and chucked the mannequin into the ocean. You’ve learned to reject help now. You look at her first before speaking to anyone. “See?” she says proudly, looping her arm through yours. “We’re synergizing.”

☆ The green face comes out when she thinks you might leave. No matter how strong she pretends to be, the minute your eyes light up with discovery—when you say “I think I found a way back,”—the green bleeds through. The cracks. The eyes. The desperation. She starts glitching around you, calling you by your first name in voices that are too soft, too shaken. Her claws tremble. “Please, don’t fire me from your heart. I—I still have stock left to sell you. Just—stay. Staystaystaystay—” She slaps herself, swaps to red again, and smiles like she didn’t just bleed neon from her mouth. “Let’s pivot from that pitch. You hungry?”

☆ She keeps trying to make this a “date.” Everything is a date. Running from hollow-eyed puppets? A “team-building exercise.” Getting ambushed by memory-hungry toads? “Picnic! How romantic!” You don’t want to play along. You want out. But one day you do laugh. Just once. And she looks stunned. Like she won a prize. “…That was real,” she says, breathless. “You actually… felt something good here. With me.” Then she cries quietly when she thinks you aren’t looking.

☆ She talks to your reflection. Not to you. To the warped version of you in the chrome-tar mirror across the lounge. “You understand, don’t you?” she whispers to it. “She’ll see one day. I can reshape her. Add value. Reduce her chaos.” Your reflection nods. Smiles. You don’t. You back away. But when you turn around, Ena is right there. “Mirror, mirror,” she whispers, tilting her head. “You know who’s best for her.”

☆ You try to run. Of course you do. She lets you. Of course she does. She’s watching through vending machines and forgotten satellites, trailing behind in corridors you swear weren’t there before. “Oh noooo, you’ve escaped! What a tragedy!” she shouts with that smile too wide. “Guess I’ll have to hunt you, cage you, peel open your ribcage and climb in like a very silly sleeping bag—!” She tackles you softly when she finally catches up. Presses her cheek to yours. “Don’t be mad. I only chase what’s mine.”

☆ You ask her, “Why me?” You shouldn’t have. She chuckles then she cups your face in both mismatched hands, staring so close you can see binary errors flickering in her pupils. “Because,” she breathes, “You fell into this world. That’s not science. That’s fate.” She leans closer. Her smile is unhinged. “And I will make you love me if it kills me.” …And for a terrifying moment, you think she means it literally.

[vibelladonna]

✑ 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝜗𝜚 𝑔𝑒𝑜 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝓎𝓊𝑔𝑜

Here we go again—since my most popular fanfic just happens to be about kinks, I might as well keep feeding the masses, right?  

Kinks, round two, featuring the second-best guys, really the first-best guys in my opinion in the TKATB fandom. You know, the ones everyone secretly (or not-so-secretly) wants to romance but, unfortunately, the game just refuses to let us have.

Boo hoo. Tragic. Heartbreaking.  

We’re out here, thirsting over a handful of drawings and barely-there dialogue, while the game just sits there like, "Nah, you get scraps at best." Like, oh, cool, thanks. Totally what I asked for. Not like I wanted actual interactions or anything. 

Nope, just gonna sit here, simping in silence.

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions. 

You know the drill—I blended a bit of canon with my headcanons for Geo and Hyugo. Kept it to just four kinks to keep things short and spicy, then topped it off with a little sweet treat at the end. 

Hope you enjoy! [ 𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ]

Starting off, I’ve noticed that TKATB fans have their unique preferences when it comes to Sol or Hyugo. 

Geo fans? They love a strong, silent, towering wall of a man who could probably carry all their groceries in one trip and still have a free hand. He’s dependable, steady, and intimidating in a hot way. But when it comes to suggestive content, some struggle to picture it—he’s asexual, after all.

As an asexual writer myself, I get it… and yes, I just called myself out. No excuses.

Hyugo fans, though? Y’all are wild. He’s a short shit menace, runs on sugar, and has the energy of a raccoon that found an energy drink. Cute? Absolutely. Safe? Questionable. There’s something about that playful, borderline-chaotic vibe that makes him irresistible—like a gremlin you can’t help but love.

Ngl Hyugo deadass scares me compared to Geo.

✑ 𝑔𝑒𝑜

Naturally, I have to start with my husband—Geo, aka Subaru Oogami. Now, let’s be real, if I actually called him that to his face, he’d hit me with the nastiest side-eye known to mankind. But do I care? Absolutely not. I play too much.

Geo is mysterious, sure, but let’s not act like he’s some enigma wrapped in a riddle. He’s smart, tall, and built like a damn fortress, and yeah, no one in their right mind wants to be on his bad side. But honestly? I cannot take him seriously. Like, okay, sir, you’re glaring at me—what now? You gonna keep staring? Blink twice if you need help. 

Honestly, it’s more fun to make it a game at this point.

His style, like my guy stays rocking ripped black jeans, what appears to be fishnet tights (??), a dark purple hoodie, and underneath that baggy hoodie, I thought he was wearing some kind of undershirt. 

But no. You know what it is? A tight, white workout shirt. I had to double-check, and yeah, that’s definitely a compression shirt. Why does he layer like this? I don’t know. Maybe he’s secretly a gym bro. Maybe he just likes the aesthetic. Either way, I support him.

Alright, onto the real question: Can you see Geo as kinky?

Uhhhhhh... no? But also, maybe? Listen, most asexuals know about the freakiest topics known to humankind (we do our research, don’t ask why). 

That’s the reason why I headcanon him into some non-sexual bondage thing.

But Geo himself? He’s not out here scheming, plotting, or forcing anything—he’s more of a “handle things on his own” kind of guy. That said, if you offer or if he really wants to show appreciation for you... yeah, he’s got a bit of a freak in him. Not the overwhelming kind—just enough to keep things interesting. He’s calculated about it, never too much, always just enough to leave you wondering. 

✑ Hella Vanilla (Soft Dom Baby!)

Now for Geo preferences!

Look, I’m really trying my best not to write Geo too close to Crowe, but let’s be honest—they’re both vanilla. The difference? Geo is vanilla with a capital V. Crowe at least has some experience, while Geo? 

He’s new to all this. 

Like, be nice to him, he’s still figuring things out. That being said, don’t think for a second that Geo’s gonna let you take full control. Oh no, he’s independent. You can tell him how you want to be touched, how you like to be held, but he’s stubborn—he wants to learn on his own and figure out the best way to please you himself. Trial and error, but make it hot.

Soft Dom Energy. That’s Geo. He can be broody, moody, and mad at everything, but when it comes to you, this is the only time he lets himself be vulnerable. He’s surprisingly affectionate, and during an intense make-out session? 

You will not be able to breathe. 

This man is obsessed with littering kisses all over your skin, like he’s trying to memorize you with his mouth. And let me tell you, do not try to push him away. I mean, you can try, but the second he’s out of breath, looking at you with those intense-ass eyes, he’s pulling you right back in. 

It’s almost desperate, like he physically needs you. And when you’re on his lap, instead of taking it further, this man will deadass just stare at you, call you pretty, rest his head on your chest, and hug you. Like sir??? That’s illegal???

This is why Geo is the definition of a Soft Dom. It’s not about control—it’s about connection. He doesn’t just want to do things to you, he wants to make sure you feel everything. His dominance is all about guidance, care, and making sure you know just how much he worships you.

And don’t get it twisted—just because he’s soft doesn’t mean he’s weak. 

He still has control. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and he takes his time. Yeah, he can be mean, a little asshole-ish sometimes, but listen… poor Geo just has trust issues. Deep-seated daddy issues, confirmed by Fantasia herself.

As for kinks? Light bondage, teasing, and lots of sensual play. Everything with him is slow and intentional because it’s not just physical—it’s emotional. 

He gets in your head before he ever gets in your bed.

✑ Body Worship / Size

Geo is the kind of man who doesn’t need to say how much he loves you—he’ll show you instead. And when it comes to you? Yeah, he’s obsessed.

He’s 100% into body worship. All shapes. All sizes. Every single inch of you. Geo doesn’t just admire you; he memorizes you. Every dip, every curve, every little detail that makes you you—he knows it.

It’s in the way he touches you, his fingers dragging slowly over your skin like he’s mapping out something sacred. It’s in the way he kisses you, lingering at the places you don’t even think twice about—your shoulder, your wrists, the space behind your ear—just because he can. 

And the most insane part? This is all before he even considers taking it further. Sex isn’t even on his mind at this point. He just wants you close.

Also, Geo absolutely has a size kink, and you cannot convince me otherwise.

The man is huge. Tall, broad, and built like he was specifically designed to make everyone feel tiny in comparison. And if you happen to be taller or close to his height? I’m so sorry, but that does not save you. 

Geo will find a way to make you feel small—whether it’s the way he looms over you, stepping just a little too close so you have to tilt your head back to meet his eyes, or how he deliberately slows his movements, reminding you just how much bigger and stronger he is.

And let me tell you—he eats that shit up.

Not in an obvious way, though. Geo isn’t Crowe; he’s not gonna outright tease you about it. But the moment he catches on how do you react?

Oh, he leans into it.

Casually backing you into a counter like he just happened to move that way, dropping his voice a little lower when he speaks, making you hyper-aware of just how much space he takes up. 

And then—the worst part?

When you say something to him, he doesn’t just answer like a normal person. No. Geo has to lean down, real slow, get right in your space, eyes heavy-lidded and unreadable before letting out a low, amused “Mm?”

Sir. Sir. You heard me the first time.

And he knows. He knows exactly what he’s doing. The little shift of his lips, the faintest smirk in his eyes—he gets a kick out of watching you react. He won’t admit it, but he definitely enjoys making you flustered.

Now, about his strength. Because Geo isn’t just big—he’s ridiculously strong. And instead of being normal about it, he’s just out here carrying you whenever he feels like it.

This man is a Great Dane in human form. Yes, I get why people compare him to a cat—he’s broody, standoffish, and acts like he doesn’t care. But the second he’s comfortable around you? Boom. Massive, clingy, overgrown puppy. A whole 6’2” worth of muscle that has zero concept of personal space.

Like picture this: You’re in the kitchen, minding your business, when suddenly—boom. A wall of man is right behind you, hands casually gripping your hips, chin resting on top of your head. "What you doing in here?"

Sir. SIR. You nearly throw the spatula. You didn’t even hear him come in, and now he’s just standing there, pressed against you like your own personal shadow. And the worst part? He does this constantly.

Geo will randomly sneak up behind you, wrap his arms around your waist, and rest his chin on your shoulder—unbothered. He’s not even trying to start anything; he just likes being close to you. Like some big, scary-looking human-weighted blanket with zero boundaries.

And honestly? He thinks it’s cute.

(It is cute, but we are not feeding his ego.)

Now, let’s discuss his obsession with carrying you. Because Geo will carry you. And no, not just when it’s "necessary." This man will find any excuse to pick you up.

Can’t reach something? He lifts you. Feeling lazy? Over his shoulder, you go.

Trying to argue with him? Congratulations. You have been physically removed from the conversation. He doesn’t even struggle.

"Geo, PUT ME DOWN."

You could be fighting for your life, yelling at him to put you down, and he’s just walking away, completely unbothered.

"Nah." And the worst part? He’s lowkey smirking.

This man is carrying you like you weigh absolutely nothing, while you’re over here kicking your feet in protest—and he is loving every second of it. I swear to God, you’re his weakness.

Right, let’s talk about Geo’s weaknesses.

Because for all his composure, all his brooding, mysterious, cold-hearted bastard energy, the man is insanely sensitive. His chest? His stomach?

Absolute weak spots.

You don’t even have to try hard—just a light brush of your fingers along his torso, and suddenly, boom. His breath hitches, his muscles tense, and his whole body betrays him. And oh, he hates that.

Geo, who prides himself on being unshakable, unreadable, completely in control, and yet? A simple touch has him slipping. Just for a second—but it’s enough. Enough for you to see it. That momentary flicker in his expression, the way his brows furrow like he’s fighting off a reaction. 

Geo is not immune. And if you really want to break him? Focus on his chest. And since he is an asshole that also means that he is petty.

Like what you’ll do to him he will absolutely do it right back at you in the unexpected moment so— that’s how he ended up becoming obsessed with your body because you simply just could not stop touching him which I don’t blame you so.

Like doesn’t even matter even why, he’s obsessed—no possessive… of your body like he would never tell you what to wear personally, but he would definitely like to keep it for his eyes view, depending on what you’re wearing.

Trust me on this like he doesn’t even need therapy as long as that you’re exist, and that’s enough. There is not a single session where his hands aren’t on you in some way. And the worst part?

Half the time, he’s not even aware he’s doing it.

It’s absentminded.

Resting his palm over your chest while cuddling? Check. Idly tracing patterns against your skin while zoning out? Check. Acting like a human-weighted blanket with grabby hands? Double check.

But when is he aware of it? Oh, he’s shameless.

Like I know, I’m rambling at this point. I’m supposed to be talking about kinks but like let me ramble—please after all the researching I have done for his character???

Also, Geo is so touch-starved, it’s almost pitiful.

This man hates people. Hates when they fawn over him. Hates when they get too close. He keeps his distance, keeps himself cold, and it works. It suits him. Until you come along and absolutely ruin him.

Because now? He notices everything.

You, brushing your hand against his? Feels like a goddamn brand. He’ll be scrubbing the memory from his brain while on his morning run, furious that it’s still there. 

You, touching him even casually? Oh, he’s doomed.

And of course, because Geo is the worst, his response is to be even more of an asshole to you. His usual indifference turns cutting. His words get sharper, his tone a little meaner—we love a toxic man. I’m lying. But does that stop him from wanting you? No.

Geo wants his hands on you. Constantly.

Kissing, touching, staring—he’s got to feel you under his fingers. And the best part? He doesn’t even bother to pretendlike it’s anything other than pure obsession.

You ask him, “Why are you so obsessed with touching me?” And he gives you that look. The one that says, “How dare you ask something so stupid.” The one that could reduce you to ash if it were any more intense. 

His face is unreadable, as if you’ve just asked him why the sky is blue or why pizza is delicious. And then, with all the seriousness in the world, he mutters in that tone of his, “Feels nice.”

Like it’s a universal truth—as if you were the crazy one for not getting it. Duh. Yeah, he's intimidating. Yeah, he's moody. Yeah, he gives off serious "I’m a brick wall with emotional issues" vibes. But when it comes to you? 

Oh, he’s a whole different kind of animal.

He’s a soft, body-worshipping, touch-starved menace who refuses to let you out of his grip. Ever. And you know what? It’s kind of cute, in an incredibly irritating way. He’s like a big, clingy puppy with a very dangerous bite.

And when it comes to sex? Forget it. Geo’s not just here to do the bare minimum. No, no. He’s going to make sure you feel every single second of it.

Geo? He’s slow. He’s deliberate. He’s the kind of guy who’s in no rush because he wants to savor it. 

The way your body clenches around him, the way your breath catches when he pushes deeper. The way your lips stretch to fit him and your little hands look like they could barely wrap around his.

Every single tiny detail drives him absolutely insane, and he’s not going to rush through any of it.

He’s going to take his sweet time.

And Geo’s Version of Aftercare: Affectionately Rude

Listen, if you’re expecting Geo to be the type to light candles, whisper sweet nothings, or pull you into a warm, cozy embrace post-intimacy, I have some unfortunate news for you. That is not happening. Not in this lifetime, not in the next.

Soft blankets? No.

Gentle forehead kisses? Absolutely not.

Deep emotional talks? He’d rather perish.

But!—and this is important—he’s not about to treat you like some random one-night stand either. He might be an asshole, but he’s not that much of an asshole.

So what does Geo’s version of aftercare look like?

Step 1: The Bossy Bathroom Break

Before you can even catch your breath, he’s already on it. “Go to the bathroom.”

If you protest, he doesn’t argue—he just picks you up like a damn sack of flour and drops you off there himself. “I’m not carrying your ass to the ER for an infection. Move.”

Step 2: The No-Nonsense Cleanup

When you get back, he’s already waiting—arms crossed, tossing you a towel like it’s a mandatory post-battle debriefing. “Here. Clean yourself up.”

Oh, you’re tired? Sore? Struggling to move? Tough luck. Geo isn’t about to baby you, but if he sees you wobbling, he’ll just exhale through his nose, snatch the towel back, and do it himself. And of course, he won’t say why—he’ll just grumble under his breath like it’s some massive inconvenience, but his hands?

Ridiculously gentle.

Step 3: The Hoodie Toss

Cleanup done? Great. Now brace yourself, because a hoodie is coming straight for your face. “Get dressed.” No further explanation.

You’re putting on his clothes, and that’s final.

Step 4: The Food Situation

Geo’s not completely heartless—let’s get that straight. He knows you’re probably starving after he just ruined the living shit out of you, so he’ll either begrudgingly make you something himself—while fucking complaining the entire time or order takeout like a responsible adult.

And listen, I’m willing to bet that he’s shirtless while he’s doing this. Not for your benefit, of course—no, Geo doesn’t do things just to be nice. It’s probably because he’s too lazy to put a shirt back on after throwing his hoodie at you earlier.

But hey, I’m not complaining. NEITHER OF YOU

Just… be careful. You might think you’re sneaky, watching him from the bed, enjoying the view as he moves around, all toned arms and broad shoulders. But trust me—he will catch you staring.

And when he does? That knowing scoff of his will be downright insufferable.

“Like what you see? Take a picture, simp."

And just like that, any last bit of dignity you had left?

Gone.

Step 5: The Accidental Softness

But here’s where it gets interesting.

At some point, you notice it. The way his hands—big, warm, and calloused from years of archery—start slowly running over your sides. Not in a calculated way, not in an obvious way. Just absentmindedly. Like he’s not even thinking about it, just feeling.

And for all his gruffness, there’s something about the way he touches you that feels different. Like he’s grounding himself. Like, without even realizing it, he’s making sure you’re still there.

His fingers trace over your skin, gentle but firm, almost possessive. As if he’s silently reminding himself, Yeah. This happened. You’re mine. You’re still here.

And the moment you point it out?

Oh, he snaps out of it so fast. LIKE DUDE STOP RUINING THE MOMENT!!

You’re forced to sit on the living room, couch, waiting for Geo begrudgingly ordered or what he cock on the couch because—God forbid do not eat in this man’s bed he will curse you out, which I don’t blame him. I hate people eating in my bed, too.

When you pause, squinting at him.

“The hell are you looking at?” he mutters, catching your stare.

“You were touching me.”

Geo barely reacts, just raising an eyebrow. “…And?”

A smirk tugs at your lips. “So you do care.”

His jaw tightens, and for a second, it looks like he’s about to argue. Instead, he exhales sharply, shoving your food container or plate closer to you.

“Eat your damn food.” But here’s the theme as he’s looking away. You can tell the redness on his pale face so you definitely did something.

Classic Geo. Affection? Accidental. Care? Hidden under layers of attitude. But at the end of the day, he’s not letting you go.

And what’s the best part of all this?

He’s not letting you go anytime soon.

✑ Bondage (my fav…)

Y’all knew this was coming. I mean, how could I not talk about Geo and bondage? It’s honestly one of my favorites, and you’re about to see why.

Geo? He’s the type to be meticulous about it. We’re talking intricately tying your wrists and ankles—none of that rushed stuff. 

He’s all about making sure the ropes are perfect, each knot tight and precise, just the right amount of pressure on your skin. The way the ropes caress your body as he pulls them snug—there’s something almost artistic about it. 

He’s not just tying you up; he’s painting you with every knot and twist, his hands slow and deliberate as they move over your skin.

And then, when he's done, Geo doesn’t rush it. Oh no, he stands over you for a few moments, just watching. And he’s not watching with concern or any weird sense of urgency. Nah. He’s watching you squirm—studying you, as if he’s seeing how you react to being bound in his ropes, how you shift and struggle. 

He loves seeing how the ropes hold you in place, watching how you can’t move the way you want, like you’re completely at his mercy.

His eyes—those unreadable, sharp eyes—never leave you, and in that moment, it’s like everything is just about you. The way you tug at the restraints, the way your body shifts trying to find some freedom, the soft little gasps as you move. 

And he’s loving every single second of it.

He’s a tallllll guy, so the way you’re all tied up beneath him just makes him feel even bigger, like you’re trapped in his world, and there's no escape. And don’t even get me started on the way he’s so smug about it. He knows exactly how much control he has, and he’s not shy about relishing in it.

And just when you think he’s about to do something, he’ll pause—making you wait. Because if there’s one thing Geo loves more than anything, it’s the anticipation. That long, drawn-out pause before he decides to make his next move.

Oh—oh my god, let’s talk about sensory deprivation—because Geo has a bit of a thing for that. And guess what? It goes hand-in-hand with his extensive love of tying you up.

Geo’s collection of soft rope, however his silk ribbons is practically a work of art. Seriously. He’s got them all—every color you can imagine. But his favorites? Dark purple, black, and maybe a bit of red for that extra flair.

You know the red ribbon that always be in his hair? 🤭

You know, the same ribbons he uses to tie his hair? Yeah, those ones. But here’s the thing: those same ribbons are going to be used to tie YOU up.

 It’s almost like a twisted little fashion show, except this time, you’re his model.

Add little more fun ask him take pictures of you, I’m sure he’s willing to comply. I’m pretty sure he’s gonna be hesitant at first, but trust me it’s a fair trade.

He loves the way the silk glides through his fingers as he ties you up, each knot like a little secret, a personal touch only he knows. And then, once you're tied up and helpless, that's when the fun begins.

Again, he’s all about the build-up.

He’ll take his time, letting the anticipation hang thick in the air, like you both know what's coming but he’s not in any rush. He might even brush a finger over your skin just enough to tease you, before pulling away like he’s got all the time in the world. 

He does. He always does.

And once you're all tied up, there’s this weird moment where everything is heightened. Without sight, without sound, every little thing Geo does to you feels more intense. 

You can feel the air shift when he moves, the heat of his body close by but never enough. You hear the slightest sound, and your entire body tenses, wondering what he’s going to do next.

Then, just when you think you can’t take it anymore, he’s there, his fingers brushing over the silk ribbons, admiring how they look against your skin.

And that? That’s when he smirks HE DOES IT WHEN HIS BOBY IS FACING AWAY FROM YOU. Because he knows exactly how much this is driving you wild, and he’s not even close to done.

And trust me, you’ll be squirming in more ways than one.

✑ Katoptronophilia

Let’s talk about Katoptronophilia, or as it’s commonly known, mirror sex.

Oh yeah, Geo is totally into it, he have to be, and honestly?

I’m shocked you didn’t see this coming. The man is a walking contradiction of brooding intensity and twisted fascination with aesthetics, and mirrors? 

I’m not saying that he see himself as perfect, but he definitely wants to keep up his clean appearance.

Well, they’re his perfect tool for both.

Geo? He has mirrors everywhere in his place. It’s almost a little excessive, honestly, but then again, it makes sense. He’s constantly checking his reflection, especially after those private workouts.

MAYBE a few flexes here, a few glances there—just to make sure his ‘I’m too cool to smile’ vibe is intact, right? But here's the twist: it’s not just about his reflection anymore.

Geo loves watching you in front of a mirror. He’s not obsessed with his own reflection, oh no. He’s captivated by you—your movements, your expressions.

He loves it when you catch yourself in the mirror, when you get distracted by the way your body looks. It’s like you’ve given him an excuse to slip in behind you, without a single word.

Imagine this, theses are my delusions: You’re putting on a simple gloss, just trying to get ready for the day, glancing at yourself in the mirror.

But then… you feel him.

Geo’s presence is like a shadow that makes the air a little thicker. He stands there, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him, but you’re too focused on your lips to notice. He watches as you press the gloss on, lips glistening, your reflection sparkling under the light.

And then, the moment you don’t expect it, his hands are on your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as his eyes trace the mirror. His voice is a low, teasing murmur, almost playful: “You look good. You know that, right?”

You think he’s just commenting on your outfit. Oh no.

Geo’s temptation? To mess it up.

That’s right, his eyes flick down to your lips, and the only thing stopping him from ruining that glossy shine is his overwhelming urge to keep you distracted. His lips are close to yours, and he can practically taste the anticipation, his hands tightening around you just enough to remind you he’s there.

It’s like he gets a kick out of making you aware of the fact that he’s behind you, studying your reflection. And maybe just a little bit more into watching you lose control of that mirror.

For example, It was one of those rare, lazy days where neither of you had any pressing work to do, and Geo was not thrilled about it. The man is built to be active, always on the move, constantly lifting or running or pushing himself to the limit. But today? He was stuck at a slower pace, and honestly? 

He was grumbling about it.

You, on the other hand, were doing your best to get him to actually relax—something he hates with a passion, but deep down, he knew he needed it. So, with a few gentle suggestions, you managed to convince him to settle down on the couch. But knowing Geo, it didn’t take long for things to take a turn. 

There you were, sitting in his lap, your back against his broad chest as his face buried into your shoulder. He was mumbling into your skin, the low hum of his voice sending shivers down your spine as his arms wrapped tightly around you.

He was trying, trying so hard to be calm, but the proximity, the way your body moved just slightly under his hands—it made it harder for him to focus.

The thing was, Geo couldn’t stay still for long.

Not when you were close.

So, as you shifted in his lap, trying to get more comfortable, he couldn't help but tighten his grip, pulling you just a little closer. His face pressed deeper into your neck, the weight of his body felt warm and heavy, his breath ghosting along your skin. 

"Stop squirming," he mumbled against your ear, though there was an edge to his voice—one that made it clear he wasn’t as relaxed as he let on. His fingers began to trace over your sides, gradually finding their way lower, guiding your movements with soft but firm pressure. 

And then, you noticed it—right in front of you two, the full-length mirror. 

It was like the universe had set it up just for this moment. You caught a glimpse of yourself, your body moving against his, his fingers rubbing in time with your shifts. The reflection only made it worse—made you more aware of the fact that every tiny movement of your body, every little gasp or twitch, was being mirrored, amplified, observed.

Geo was watching you carefully, studying your reflection as much as he was focused on how you were guiding him. He could see your fingers fidgeting on top of his hands, guiding him where to rub your clothed pussy, where to touch—each motion becoming more deliberate as you tried to maintain some semblance of control. 

“Geo, please…” you breathed, unable to help the way your own body responded, shifting to meet his touch. Geo’s breath hitched, his eyes flicking between your reflection and your face, watching as you squirmed in his arms. 

There was something electric about this—something that pushed all his patience to the limit, something he couldn’t ignore. His hand moved again, more firmly now, following your lead as you guided him, your body responding to every slow, deliberate movement. 

The way the mirror captured everything—the way your body arched against his, the quiet moans slipping from your lips, the way your eyes locked with his in the reflection as you both lost track of time—it was almost like you were both trapped in a moment, caught between the pleasure of the present and the art of watching you unfold. 

Geo might’ve been the one leading the way, but you were the one showing him just how much control you had, even in a moment like this.

Now watching his bare cock lined up on your stomach as you sat on his lap, reaching way past your belly button, talking about just how small you are compared to him, and wondering how he’s gonna make it fit.

As the minutes ticked by, the air in the room thickened, almost like it was holding its breath. The only sounds were the soft rhythmic movement of your bodies pressing together, and the small, breathless noises that escaped you as you rode him. 

Geo watched you with those predatory eyes, his grip tightening around your waist as you squirmed above him, just enough to drive him insane. He was nothing if not patient—insufferably patient, in fact—and he knew exactly how to draw this out. Every movement you made, every quiet whimper that slipped past your lips, only served to fuel his sick little plan.

He wasn’t going to let you win. Not yet.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, and you felt the heat of his breath on your neck, each exhale making your skin prickle with anticipation. 

But you couldn’t hold back anymore, could you? 

You were close, so close to the point where you needed him to take control, to make it stop. You were whimpering now, clinging to him, begging for him to take over. 

Geo’s lips sighed into that knowing look. He could hear it in your voice—how you were unraveling on his cock. He keeps you close until his abdomen is drenched in your slick, chuckling under his breath when you whine.

And he loved it. His thumbs traced slow circles over the plush flesh of your waist, the pressure light but deliberate. 

Every time you tried to hold back a mewl, he'd hum in response—low, condescending, almost amused by your desperation. 

"Giving up already?" he’d tease, his voice like velvet, coated in that dangerous edge of satisfaction. "Pathetic." 

But the truth was, Geo was bone-tired. 

Not in the sense that he was worn out, but in the way that only you could fill the void for him. He didn’t need anything but you, right there, straddling him, your body pressed against his. His face buried into your neck, savoring the warmth of your skin, the sweet, familiar scent of you that drove him wild. It wasn’t about control anymore. 

It was about feeling you, grounding himself in the sensation of being with you, connected in the most primal way.

And still, even when you were frozen, not moving an inch—your body so deeply connected to his—he felt it. The pressure, the way you clung to him, the way it was making both of you dizzy. It was too much. 

You were too tight, too perfect, too intoxicating. 

And then, just when you thought it was too much to bear, when you were on the edge, your mind fogged with lust, Geo pulled away. 

Just a little. Enough to make you ache. Enough to make your whole body tremble in frustration. You could feel the absence of him like a physical pull, and your breath hitched. The tease was unbearable. 

He wasn’t done with you yet. Not by a long shot. Geo enjoyed watching you suffer, toying with you, letting you think he was finally going to let you have your release. And then, when you were this close—he'd pull away again, dragging out the torment. 

Just enough to send you spiraling into your own frustration. 

And that? That was when he felt alive—pressing himself up away from the mattress, just enough to lift you off the bed too with ease. He doesn’t waste time, picking you up like you're weightless and pulling you flush against his chest, your arms snaking around his neck and your legs wrapping tightly around his waist. 

You’re not going anywhere—not that you’d want to. 

And that’s when he goes to town, fucking into you with a brutal, relentless pace. Every thrust is calculated, every movement intentional, as he watches the mess you're making in the mirror. 

You can see everything—the way you squirm, the way your lips part in breathless pleasure, the way your body trembles against him. And just when you think you can’t take anymore, he’s there—pushing you further, harder, faster. You sink your nails into his shoulders as he held you close, the sting of your grip only making him press into you deeper.

Geo doesn’t just push you back onto the mattress—he somewhat shoves you, forcing you to feel the weight of his strength as he pins you down.

There’s no hesitation, no softness, just raw, unrelenting dominance. His hand presses firmly against your stomach, palm splayed out possessively, applying just enough pressure to remind you exactly how deep he is.

And then, because he’s an absolute menace, he leans down, voice a low, mocking drawl right against your ear.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his tone dripping with condescension. “Taking me so well… like you were made for this.”

He watches your reaction with that signature smirk—half amusement, half arrogance—because he knows he’s wrecking you. And when you’re struggling to respond, barely holding yourself together?

Geo just chuckles, pressing down on your stomach a little harder.

“C’mon,” he taunts, voice dark and teasing. “Where’d all that attitude go? You were talking plenty of shit earlier.”

Oh my god, am I actually into degrading?

Then, that beautiful moment when you cry out his name, torn between wanting him to keep going or begging him to stop. It feels so damn good you can't decide.

Your body shakes and trembles, not sure whether it’s from the pleasure or the overwhelming sensation of being so completely consumed by him. 

You tell him you’re in control this time. 

You insist you’ll fuck him this time—you’re going to win. 

But deep down, you know how it ends every single time. No matter how much you try to convince him, Geo always wins.

Who wouldn't want a man like that, who knows exactly how to leave you breathless, on the edge of losing yourself?

And frankly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

✑ 𝒽𝓎𝓊𝑔𝑜

Here’s sweet baby boy Hyugo—Hyugo Sugimoto !Honestly, writing him is lowkey a challenge, especially compared to someone like Geo, but since I have a soft spot for the brothers more than the main leads (yes, even with all their complex personalities), I’m doing it for y’all.

But anyway, let’s talk about Hyugo.

He’s literally the sweetest person you’ll ever meet, hands down. Even though his outfits are on the simple side, his youthful energy just makes him glow.

He’s got this oval-shaped face, a bit baby-faced, and his sky-blue eyes are sparkling with that innocent charm. His lips are thin, but there's this softness about him that makes you want to believe he's just the nicest guy ever.

But, and here’s the thing—don’t let that sweet face fool you.

We all know the cutest, most innocent-looking ones can hide some serious secrets, right? They say looks can be deceiving, and trust me, with Hyugo, that’s an understatement.

So, the big question—can you see Hyugo as kinky?

For me? Hell yeah, absolutely.

For others? Maybe they think he’s just sweet and harmless, but I’m not taking any chances. After the stuff he pulls in the game? Nah, I’m not falling for that "good boy" act. That man’s got layers, and some of them are not nearly as innocent as they seem.

I mean, let’s be real, the guy knows how to get exactly what he wants without ever breaking a sweat.

✑ Switch (Sub side…)

Now, let’s dive into baby boy Hyugo's preferences, shall we?

Just like his best buddy Sol, Hyugo is a switch—and when I say switch, I mean capital S to the H—A. SWITCH. No questions asked.

Now, imagine my surprise when I learned he used to be a virgin, and the dude did it with a man?

Yeah, he's a switch.

I have no idea who's doing the bending (or maybe that’s the whole point, right?), but I’m calling it like I see it. Hyugo can take both roles and absolutely slay in either of them.

Meanwhile, Sol's out here second-guessing every text he sends, wondering if he's being too much or not enough, texting wrong men for validation. We love him, but come on, bro. Hyugo, on the other hand, is living his best life.

Like, imagine this: Hyugo, all giggly and kicking his feet, waiting for you to reply to his sweet dinner invitation text. You send back a “Can’t wait!” and he’s over the moon, practically bouncing off the walls. He’s so happy you’re with him, it’s honestly the cutest thing ever.

And when you’re together? Oh, he holds your hand like it’s the most precious thing in the world. He’s got that combination of shock and glee—like he can’t believe you’re actually here with him.

You’re tugged into his side with every step, and he’s showering you with little kisses on your temple, just so happy to have you close.

Like, Hyugo is a sweetheart, but don’t let that fool you. Beneath that cute, giggling exterior is a switch who knows exactly what he wants—and trust me, he’s not afraid to get it.

Hyugo? Yeah, the moment that door to your apartment clicks shut behind him, he’s a completely different person.

All that sweet, baby-faced charm? Gone.

He transforms into someone much wilder, more needy. It’s like the minute he's in private with you, he’s letting down all his defenses.

And yeah, most of the time, Hyugo’s a sub. He’s got that soft, touch-starved side that craves affection and care. He wants you to baby him, in the way only you can—gentle, but with that touch that makes him feel seen and wanted. You can tell he's a little starved for it, much like his brother Geo.

However Hyugo knows how to hold it back a little more, unlike his best buddy Sol. No offense to Sol, but he’s just a tad more... obvious about it, right? 

Anyway, Hyugo? It’s like a delicate balance of needing you while still holding on to his cool exterior until it all comes crashing down.

Now, don’t get me wrong, like I said Hyugo loves when you baby him. 

He may not openly admit it, but the way his eyes soften when you shower him with attention? Yeah, it’s more than enough evidence. He might even have a little bit of a thing for being pampered and cared for, but I won’t dive into that—not my cup of tea. Mommy kink.

But that doesn’t mean his desires stop there. Oh no, once you’ve got him behind closed doors, the sweetness can turn into something else entirely.

Because let me tell you something—Hyugo does NOT do slow and sensual. The second he hears anything remotely related to sex, it’s like flipping a switch. He’ll be pounding into you like it’s the last time you two will ever touch, and he’s not exactly taking his time. There’s an urgency there, like he’s starving for you in the most primal way.

And your breasts? Forget about it. 

You cannot keep him off of them. He’s all over them, kissing, sucking, mouthing at them like they’re the best thing in the world. Hyugo’s hands are never far away, especially when they’re roaming, taking every chance to squeeze, kiss, or just touch whatever he can get his hands on.

But here’s the thing: he loves being told what to do. He thrives on direction, on being guided, and the more you tease him, the more he wants.

Deny him just a little, though?

Oh, that’s when he gets even more worked up. Being denied? It’s like a whole new level of arousal for him, something about the frustration only makes him more desperate.

Hyugo’s a mess in the best way—he craves attention, craves being controlled, and craves all of you. So when you finally give in and take control, he’s lost to the feeling, ready for whatever comes next. 

And trust me, you will feel it.

✑ Semi-public (My lord…)

Hyugo? Baby, he’s got a serious thrill-seeking side, and it shows. 

The boy is daring, and when he wants you, he doesn’t waste time hiding it. You think he’s just a sweet, baby-faced guy? Think again. He’s into semi-public situations, and he thrives off the danger of it. No place is off-limits for him, even the college roof—the place he loves to hang out at when he needs some space, away from the rules and prying eyes. 

But with you? He doesn’t care about the risk.

When he’s on that the college roof, staring out at the world, there’s a fire in his eyes, and the second he gets you alone, the rules don’t matter. He wants you ‘right there’, right then, and you can bet he’s not shy about it. 

The thrill of being seen, even just for a second, turns him on more than anything. He wants the world to know you're his, and he’ll do anything to get a taste of that danger. The whole atmosphere is thick with anticipation, the tension between you so palpable that it almost crackles.

And when it comes to foreplay? 

Don’t even get me started on how obsessed he is with dry-humping. The second the two of you are close, it’s like an instinctual need for friction. You can feel the heat building as he presses into you, his body grinding and frotting against yours. 

There’s no subtlety here—he’s desperate for that contact, desperate to feel your body move against his. Every little roll of his hips, every grind, is a game of inches as he gets closer and closer to losing control. He’s completely lost in the sensation, like he can’t get enough.

And then, when he can’t stand it anymore, when that desperation peaks and you’ve been teasing him just enough—he rips your clothes off. Right then. Right there. It’s not even about taking his time anymore; it’s all about the raw need. He’s done holding back, and in that moment, all that matters is the frantic urgency to have you, to touch you. 

There’s no question in his mind—he needs you now.

Like that boy will get off any way he can if it means getting that release. And it’s not even about subtlety, he just needs to do it.

Now, for a fun little twist: He’s definitely into pegging. I’m not saying he’s screaming for it every minute of the day, but when the right time comes, he’s all about it. There’s just something about it that turns him on in a way nothing else can. He will beg you to fuck his tight little asshole until he makes a mess.

But honestly, that’s Hyugo—always a little more complicated than you might think.

And when it comes to moaning? That boy whines and moans like a fucking bitch when you’re going at him. It’s like every little sensation sends him spiraling into this blissed-out mess. He just can’t help it, and you’ll quickly learn that his whimpering is one of the sexiest sounds in the world.

But don’t get it twisted—he loves being treated right. 

He loves that softness, that attention. 

But there’s a part of him that wants to be pushed a little, taken advantage of in a way that leaves him desperate. You can take your frustrations out on him, just a little. He won’t break. He might even love it more than you expect.

When it comes to degradation, Hyugo’s not into anything too harsh, but call him your slut? Oh, you’re speaking his language now. 

That little spark in his eye will light up every time you remind him who he belongs to. He won’t admit it, but he loves being labeled that way, that submissive title making him feel just a little bit more desperate, a little more needed. So yeah, don’t be fooled by the baby-faced charm—Hyugo is a lot more than he lets on. 

Treat him right, give him what he craves, and you’ll be surprised at just how wild he gets when you push his buttons.

✑ Overstimulation

And then there’s overstimulation. 

Sometimes, it’s not even intentional, but it’s inevitable with Hyugo. You feel so damn good above him, your body responding to every touch, every thrust. He’s chasing that high, pulling you closer to the edge again and again until your body can’t take it. 

And Hyugo’s a man who knows what he wants and may ur may not beg for it, and he loves when you take control, especially when it comes to pulling his soft hair. 

The way his breath hitches whenever your fingers tangle in his hair—that’s his weakness. He’s yours, every inch of him, and he’s not shy about showing it. Each time you yank his hair, you can hear the shameless moans slip from his lips. 

It drives him crazy, his body reacting to every tug, and it only fuels the fire between you two. He’s not just giving—he’s taking, fully immersed in the feeling, and you can tell by the way his tongue works at your trembling walls. 

And let me tell you, this man is all about cunnilingus.

There’s nothing soft or shy about it; Hyugo’s a big eater, and he’s hungry for you. When his lips press to your pussy, it’s like he’s starving, devouring you like he hasn’t eaten in days. His arms wrap around your thighs, holding you in place as he feasts on you. 

He licks, sucks, and nibbles with a feverish intensity, working his way through every inch of you, as if he’ll die if he doesn't get every drop.

Sometimes it feels like it’s too much, his tongue relentless, but you can’t stop the heat it builds. You’ll squirm and tug at his hair, urging him on, and he just pulls you closer, deeper into the sensation.

Hyugo’s eye contact is deadly. When he wants you, he’s not looking away. His hand grips your jaw, tilting your head, forcing you to look at him. He demands that you keep your eyes on him, guiding you with his fiery gaze. 

Those eyes of his? Thoes soft eyes turns Intense. Piercing. He’s studying every little thing about you—the way your pupils dilate with desire, the flutter of your lashes as he pushes you further, deeper. 

The intensity of his gaze makes it all feel so much more real. He doesn’t need to say a word; his eyes speak louder than anything.

You’re a shaking mess in his arms, your muscles aching, your mind overwhelmed with the pleasure he’s giving you. But that’s the thing about him—he won’t stop.

He doesn’t care about your begging, about how much you can take; he wants to see you lose yourself, to feel you break into a thousand pieces in his arms. 

And when you finally do, he’s yours. 

Completely, utterly yours.

✑ Role play

Oh, baby boy is all about the roleplay. 

And no, let me clear that up right now, he's not into anything dangerous or dark—no gunplay, no assassin fantasies (he never even brings up his questionable word side to you, thank you very much). 

But when it comes to the playful stuff? Oh, he’s all in. His absolute favorite? Cops and robbers. But here’s the twist—he loves being the one arrested. 

There’s something about you in charge, giving him that commanding look, your fingers brushing over the cuffs, the way you look him up and down like you’re about to throw him in the back of your car that drives him wild.

Humiliation? Oh, Hyugo lives for it. You can see it in his eyes when the teasing starts, the way his entire demeanor shifts—there’s a naughty little spark that lights up in his gaze whenever you call him out. 

You both know the game, and you’re always more than happy to play along. 

It starts simple enough, just a teasing glance or a casual remark. But the more you push him, the more he wants to be pushed. You lower your voice, your hand brushing over his thigh as you lean in, whispering in his ear, “Such a good little whore for me, huh? You can’t get enough of it, can you?”

His breath hitches, a flicker of a smirk crossing his face as he tries to hold it together. But, oh, you know better. The words trip over his tongue as he fumbles, his voice dropping a little—just enough for you to hear the hesitation, the vulnerability he’s trying so hard to keep under wraps. 

“W-wait, I didn’t… I didn’t say—” His words stutter, barely escaping, and you can already see the flush rising in his cheeks. The little twitch at the corner of his lips betrays him, and the smug grin you're wearing only deepens. 

Gotcha.

“Oh, but you’re looking so cute right now, all flustered. It’s adorable how easily you fold under just a few words.” You can’t help but tease, watching him squirm under your touch. His cheeks are flushed, his breath uneven, and his eyes are flickering, darting away, trying to avoid the weight of your gaze.

But you won’t let him escape.

You never do.

He tries to play it off, shifting uncomfortably, biting his lip as he avoids looking you directly in the eyes. His fingers twitch at his sides like he wants to reach for you, to make it stop, but he can’t. Not yet.

“You know,” you continue, letting the silence stretch before adding, “you look so cute when you try to act like you’re not loving every second of this. You’re my slutty little toy, and you know it, don’t you?”

The words sink in, and you watch his entire body tense. His throat works as if he’s about to protest, but all that comes out is a frustrated little moan. “S-stop… I’m not—” 

“You’re not?” you cut him off, raising an eyebrow, “Then why are you blushing so much? Why do you look like you’re about to come just from me saying those words?”

He stammers, unable to form any coherent argument, his voice cracking with embarrassment. “I-I didn’t… you can’t—”

You lean in closer, your breath hot against his ear. “It’s okay, Hyugo. I know you’re mine. You’re just too cute when you try to act like you’re not my little slut. You’ll never be able to hide that from me.”

And with that, his face burns even brighter, his attempts at deflecting your words turning into soft, desperate whimpers. It’s game over for him, and he knows it. His body betrays him every single time.

You can’t help but love watching him squirm under the weight of your teasing, his mouth opening, but no words coming out as he struggles to keep his composure. 

This game? You’re always the winner. And Hyugo? 

Well, he’s always more than happy to play.

✑ Cheirophilia

Hear me out—Cheirophilia.

Oh, Hyugo? That boy lives for touch. He’s naturally affectionate, always finding little excuses to run his fingers along your skin, tracing lazy circles on your palm, interlocking fingers, brushing his knuckles against your cheek like he just hasto be touching you at all times.

So let’s be real—he’s got a thing for hands.

And not just in the oh, I like holding hands kind of way. No, no, this man will obsess over your hands. The shape of them, the way your fingers move, the strength of your grip. He notices everything.

How your nails look when they drag across his back, how soft your palms feel when you cup his face, how effortlessly your fingers wrap around his throat when you push him down and remind him exactly who he belongs to.

Hyugo melts when you play with his hands, too. Run your fingers along the lines of his palms? He shudders. Press a kiss to his knuckles? He’s giggling like a schoolgirl. Lace your fingers with his and tighten your grip just slightly? He’s already giving you those fuck-me eyes.

And don’t even get him started on watching you use your hands. The way you gesture when you talk, the way your fingers curl when you beckon him closer—he’s hanging onto every movement, completely entranced.

If he’s sitting across from you, he’ll grab your hand mid-conversation just to absentmindedly play with your fingers, pressing them to his lips like it’s second nature.

But in the bedroom? Oh, baby, you’re in trouble.

Hyugo adores watching your hands work on him. Gripping his hair, clawing at his back, holding him down—he’s watching every single twitch of your fingers with rapt attention.

He lives for the moment when your hands tremble just slightly from the pleasure, when you grip the sheets so hard your knuckles turn white, when your fingers sink into his shoulders, desperate to hold onto something while he ruins you.

And let’s be real, he loves having your hands around his throat. Not too rough, just enough pressure to make his breath hitch, his pulse racing under your fingertips. He’ll grin at you, eyes dark with mischief, voice breathy as he teases, “Tighter, please. You know I can take it.”

And you already know Hyugo’s got stamina for days. 

He’s insatiable, always riled up and ready to go again before you’ve even caught your breath. One round isn’t enough—hell, two barely cuts it. If he’s spent one session melting under your touch, panting and begging for more, then the next?

Oh, he’s flipping the script, pinning you down, and making sure you remember exactly who he is.

And he takes his time with it.

Who’s spreading you apart, just fucking staring until you’re squirming? 

Hyugo.

"No, pretty girl, let me look." His hands hold you still, thumbs pressing against your trembling thighs, watching with those hungry, sky-blue eyes—eyes that burn with amusement and desire as you try to close your legs.

But he won’t let you. Not until he’s had his fill, memorizing how ruined you already are before he even touches you properly. 

Then, when you whimper his name, he just grins. "There she is." And then he’s diving in, suckling, licking, dragging his tongue over every inch like he’s starving.

Who’s got the nastiest mouth on him when your thighs are tossed over his shoulders, his cock pounding into you, relentless? 

Hyugo.

"Hear how good you takin’ me, honey?" His voice is deep, ragged, lips curling into that cocky little smirk when he feels you tighten around him. 

"Tryin’ to squeeze every last drop outta me, huh? Greedy thing." His fingers dig into your hips, holding you down, making you feel every inch of him, and he’s watching you—eyes locked onto the way your face twists in pleasure, the way your hands grasp at the sheets, at him.

And let’s be honest, who’s absolutely wrecked the moment he feels your walls start to flutter around him? 

Hyugo.

"Fuck—lemme inside one more time, yeah? Will ya let me, beautiful, please?" His breath is hot against your neck, lips brushing against your ear as he pleads, as he begs. 

"Wanna have me leaking outta you for days, please—" His body trembles, overwhelmed and desperate, rutting into you with everything he has left. And when you finally give in, whispering his name, he shatters.

And afterward? He’s all clingy and cuddly, wrapping himself around you, arms locked tight like he never wants to let go. He buries his face in your neck, pressing lazy kisses against your skin, murmuring, "Was I good for you? Made you feel good, yeah?"—and the way he says it, voice soft, needy, full of quiet vulnerability, makes your heart ache.

But oh, when he’s the one pushing your buttons?

That’s when the real game begins.

Hyugo lives for a power play. He’ll push and push, teasing you with every filthy little comment, every smug remark slipping from his lips, knowing exactly how to make you crack. 

The more you try to act unaffected, the harder he digs in. Hands wandering, lips ghosting over your skin, voice dropping into something slow and deliberate, thick with amusement.

"Aww, what’s the matter, babe? Tryna act all composed? Cute—" His fingers lace with yours, pressing a lingering kiss to your knuckles, all innocent, but his grin says otherwise. 

"But you know I see right through you, don’t you?" His lips brush against your ear, and he laughs when he feels the shiver that runs down your spine.

You pretend you don’t care.

But Hyugo? He knows better.

[caotictimmy]

Chapter 1: Oh my dear lamb, your heart is to big for you… (Madoka magica!reader)

Authors note: I know someone also posted a Madoka magica! Reader to. I promise our stories will be quite different (and very good! Please check their story out!!) anyways finally posted the first chapter. Please send requests or asks about this!!! Not proof read we die like almost every magical girl.

You weren’t special by any means.

You’ve known this for a while. You weren’t as athletic as Dick. You weren’t as intelligent as Damien. Hell, you weren’t really great at anything. You were good, but you weren’t great. There was something you were good at, hell even great. No one else in that family could ever come close to . Love. You were a creature of love at heart. Kindness overflowed from your mouth, seeping into anything around you. Most thought that was a gift. A kind heart, with only the purest intentions. The bat family didn’t though.

They all thought you were weak. You weren’t cut out to be a hero. You weren’t strong, you weren’t incredibly smart, you didn’t have any powers. You’re nothing like them. Would your kindness be able to save someone from a joker attack? Would your big heart be able to rescue people from a burning building? It wouldn’t. You just aren’t special like them, and you had to live with that fact every single day of your life. That you would never compare to anything, especially your family.

But you wanted to be like them so bad… You wanted to be able to save people like them. You wanted to be like them so desperately that you even tried to train yourself, but it wasn’t very affective… You kept accidentally hurting yourself one way or another, whether that be by accidentally cutting yourself while trying to train with a sword, to tumbling to the ground trying to practice defending yourself.

You felt so isolated from them. They were supposed to be your family. You felt like you invaded their space, like you didn’t belong there. It didn’t help that they could barely spare you a glance. Let alone have a conversation with you, even just a simple hello from Jason would surprise you.

It was like you were a ghost in the manor, more like an angle. You would do your best to help around, clean a room. Leave Advil out for Tim after an all nighter he had. Leave reminder notes of positivity. Drawing heart, flowers, and smiley faces all of the little sticky notes. You would always do these little things for them, but they never noticed. They never noticed your effort, never noticed your support. They never noticed you.

The silence in there was especially unnerving in your bedroom. It was always just to quiet in there. You never really believed in “so quiet you could hear a pin drop.”, well not until you had to stay in the eerie room. You often had to hold yourself at night. Trying to act like one of them was there. There when the shadows of your room loomed over you. It felt like the darkness was gonna eat you alive in that room.

Alfred told you they were just busy, some even a bit jealous that you got to live a normal life. You never understood why they would be jealous though. You would kill to be able to be like them. Famous hero’s , one that sends villains shivers down their spine and a warm feeling to civilians. Who would want to give that up to well.. be you. You weren’t able to save people like they could. You couldn’t fight like they could. You weren’t even that athletic. So why would they be jealous of you?

You were walking back from a friend’s house. You didn’t wanna bother their parents with asking for a ride home, and Alfred was already busy. It was quite nice outside so you didn’t mine walking home. The only problem though was how the sun was starting to set. It was scary being out alone in Gotham, and the recent joker attacks didn’t help making Gotham’s streets safe. You knew you would have to start taking alleyways if you wanted to make it home before it was completely dark and cold outside. You pull your jacket closer to you, trying to preserve more heat.

You were about to turn a corner into one of the alleyways back home, but then you heard a small whimper in the alley. You paused for a moment. Stilling to try and see if you could catch the sound again. Then another pleading whimper coming from the alley way. You take a deep breath. This could be your moment! You can be someone’s night and shining armor!

You ball your fist up, getting ready to attack if you need to (thought it really wouldn’t do any good.) you quickly turn the corner. “W-who goes there!” You stutter out, the anxiety clear in your voice. You soon stop in your tracks. The wounded..alien cat? It’s white fur now matted with a deep bloody red. It’s what looked like ears coming out of its ears sadly dropping on the ground.”O-oh my god! I’m so sorry are you ok.” You quickly rush to the bleeding cat’s side. Gently scooping it up in your arms.

“Hey hey now.. it’s ok! I’m gonna help alright. I’m not gonna let anything hurt you.” You said to the poor creature. Taking your jacket off and wrapping it around it. You were still freezing and would probably catch a cold, but at least you’re not bleeding out! You stumble to get up. Who knows what hurt the cat, or if it’s still lurking around.

You braced the odd creature closer to you before booking it. You’ve never ran faster in your life, but it wasn’t much problem keeping the same speed with the feeling of someone watching you, practically tracking you. No matter how much your lungs hurt. No matter how much your heart rattled against your ribcage. You ran for your and it’s life.

You closed the door of the mansion as fast as you could. No only were you glad to be out of the freezing cold, but also glad that whatever was CERTAINLY following you couldn’t get in. “It’s ok..kitty”, you hesitantly say, not wanting to offend it by calling it the wrong species. “You are in good care!”, you proudly say.

You walked as quietly as you could to the downstairs bathroom closest to the bat cave. They always kept a first aid or two under the sink. You open the door. The old wood groaning in protest. You gently set the little thing on the counter. Grabbing one of the first aid kits from under the sink.

“Hey kitty this is gonna hurt…”, you softly muttered, mostly to yourself to get yourself ready to clean its wounds. You applied the rubbing alcohol on the cotton pad. Starting to softly dab it against its wounds. You were surprised to see it not phased at all. “Wow you’re better at pain than I am.”, you giggled. Trying your best to keep the atmosphere lighthearted.

You quickly finish cleaning the poor space kitties wounds. Soon bandaging them up. It looked kind of sloppy, and probably wasn’t the best, but it worked. Keeping it from dying is all you cared about.

Now not rushed with the thought of loosing this new hopefully friend, you were able to step back and analyze how the creature looked. It had a pink ring on an its back, contrasting against the white fur. It also had what looked like droopy ears. The drooping appendages coming out of the ears also had some pink tint with some golden rings around he to floppy maybe ears. It looked exactly like a plushie, one that came to life! That would be so cool if your stuffed animals could come to life! You wouldn’t be lonely and would have people to talk to!

You quickly catch yourself from being stuck in thought. You have to focus on the task on hand! Looking at it, you can tell it must be tired, especially after loosing all that blood. You scooped the alien cat back into your arms, it was still silent, but you could tell it’s feeling much better. You quietly shut the door of the bathroom. Tip toeing up the manors stairs and into your room.

“Sorry my bed isn’t really big. My dad’s really busy and I don’t wanna bother him to ask for a new one.”, you whispered. Swallowing the lump in your throat just thinking about your father. You tucked the alien by your plushies, still wrapped in your warm jacket. Now it really looked like a plushie! “It’s my bedtime alien kitty. I’ll see you tomorrow,”, you said cheerfully. So happy to finally be able to talk to someone.

You don’t know what time it is, all you know that it’s storming outside and it’s extremely dark. You feel your hairs stand on the back of your neck. You felt that stalked sensation again. You were being watched. You would take a guest and say it was from your window, but you were way too scared to look up. Then you heard her.

“Listen to me, don’t trust the incubator. Don’t make a wish. Do you hear me. Get rid of him, get rid of that thing as fast as you can. Do it for your family and friends. Whatever you do, DON’T become a magical girl...”, her voice was cold but robotic, like she’s said it over and over again. You were now beyond terrified. You don’t wanna even know what was outside by your window, you grab your blankets as you shake in terror. What did you get yourself into… Maybe the family was right. Your heart was too big for you.

Authors note: I might have forgotten about this draft but it’s ok! It’s finally out and that’s what is most important.(forgot my tag list)

@princesscosmo

@linasrosetown

[i-cant-sing]

Time Traveller AU part 7

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here. Part 5 is here. Part 6 is here. Time Traveller au masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Part 8 is here!

"Gather the troops and have them warn the public. All the infantries will be stationed here and here. The archers and cavalary-" Salauddin was sending orders to his generals. As soon as he was informed of Baldwin coming, you knew he had only limited time to make a game plan.

You didnt understand why Baldwin would come all the way here for a war. He wouldnt leave Jerusalem unarmed this way, so either he's bring half of his army while the other half protects his kingdom from invaders- which would put him at a great disadvantage against Salauddin. Or he's bringing all of his men and that means Jerusalem is practically up for grabs.

No. He wouldnt leave Jerusalem unarmed like that, so that means he's inadequately prepared for the war?

No. Baldwin's too smart. If he won against Salauddin at just 16 years, then he's definitely coming up with a plan. And it scares you to not know what he has in mind.

You looked at Salauddin who had just finished instructing his generals, as they left. He was stressed, you could see that. War. Its not a small thing. There are no true winners when there's blood shed on either side. While Salauddin does have the advantage of fighting in his home ground, that is also his disadvantage. At the end of it, his people- his Egypt will suffer.

"Y/n." Your eyes meet. "I need you to stay inside the palace. I will have guards assigned to you. If they tell you to go somewhere, follow them."

"What? No. I'm coming with."

"Have you lost your mind?"

You ignored his insult. "If Baldwin is coming for a war-" "You're gonna talk him out of it?" "I mean, its not a bad plan but I was gonna offer you to use me as a bargaining chip? That way you could avoid blood shed." You wouldn't offer to put your life in danger but since your time machine is still not ready, you need to avoid a war.

"No." He gave you a stern look. "I dont want you anywhere near him or his men. You will stay here. Listen to me for once."

"But I-"

"Y/n." He warned. You sighed before nodding. Well I could always just go out when he leaves, just like last time.

Almost as if he had read your mind, he made you follow him to a room that had no windows or any other exits besides the one door that was made of solid wood and had guards stationed outside.

"This is the safest room, Y/n. It is impenetrable." Oh no, you cant stay here.

"I think you're overreacting a bit-"

"Overreacting? Your fiance is coming over to start a war because of your crazy brother-in-law who you underestimated because you said that he's just a tool. I think I'm reacting very appropriately." He shut you up.

"I want Isabella."

"No."

"Please Salauddin, I need to keep her safe too-"

"No."

"This may be the last wish you ever grant me, so can you just agree-"

"You think I'm going to die?!" Salauddin stared at you in disbelief.

"I... I didnt say that." You tried to think of a lie. "I mean, maybe this might be the last time you see me... alive? Who knows when the angel of death pays you a visit? If we look at the statistics, between you, me and Baldwin, at least one of us going to die-"

"Stop talking." He gritted out, "Fine."

-

"Princess." Isabella wailed as soon as she entered. You let her hug you. "I missed you too, Isabella." You smiled wiping away her tears.

"I- I heard rumors of a war! Is it- his majesty coming?" The girl sniffled. You nodded.

"Its true. A war is going to happen... unless I do something about it." She blinked in confusion. "Huh?"

You held her hands and gave her your most pleading eyes. Its time for manipulation.

"I need you to get me out of here." "Why?" "Because I need to talk to my future husband out of war."

Her eyes widened. "B-but its too dangerous for you to go outside, princess!"

You sighed. "If I cant even protect people from unnecessary pain and bloodshed, then what good am I as a queen?" Yes, time for some heart breaking lines about self sacrifice. "I would rather risk my life than the lives of those who have their families waiting for them at home. I would happily fall on my own sword if it means my subjects wont have to. If I cant prevent suffering of the very people who would bleed for me, then I have no right to be the queen of Jerusalem."

-

Half an hour later, Isabella had knocked on the door for the guards to let her out.

"Sultan Salauddin has forbidden-"

"Princess Y/n from leaving. Not me. I'm her lady in waiting and the princess needs me to get her belongings so that she can write her will."

"We can have it fetched-"

"You? A common man she has no relations with- wants to touch her stuff? I dont think so." Isabelle glared at them through her niqaab (all of your maids had followed your dress code in Egypt). She didnt wait for an answer as she began walking away before a man appeared by her side. It was one of Salauddin's guards.

"What?" She snapped at him, continuing to walk.

"They sent me to walk with you and bring you back safely." He said before grinning at her. "I thought you'd be happy to see your habeebo."

"Habeebo?" She asked, reaching your room.

He caught her wrist and turned her around, gazing at her veiled face with affection. "You cant still be mad at me for leaving the other night- I had duties."

"What right do I have to be mad at you?" Isabella kept her face down, conveying she was still very much mad.

"Habeebo's habibti- you have all rights over me. You're the only woman for me." Habeebo said as he placed a hand over his heart.

Isabelle finally giggled, freeing her wrist from his grasps. "Stop... someone could walk in on us." She warned.

"So? I'm not afraid. I can do anything for love!"

"Anything?"

"Anything." He assured her.

"Then go fetch me some cold water while I pack the princesse's belongings. Hurry now, I'll be waiting for you here." Habeebo all but smiled before walking towards the kitchen, leaving Isabella alone in your room.

As soon as she was sure he was gone, she removed her veil and quickly changed her chaddar with yours.

"Thanks Isabella." You muttered as you slipped on your chaddar. Yes, you had left Isabella in the room upstairs and pretended to be her to slip out of there. She had told you about her crush Habeebo who you had also fooled into leaving you here, and youre sure that if he were to go back upstairs and find Isabella instead of you, he'd protect her. Surely.

Sneaking out of the palace wasnt a hard feat by now. What was hard was trying to figure out what way to go to find Baldwin or Salauddin, with all the people panicking as they were being constantly warned by guards about Baldwin's arrival.

You decided to go through the market and head towards the madarrasa, though you doubt Abbas is anywhere done with the parts you gave him to make. You had given a week's deadline but only because you needed him to hurry up, not because he could actually make them in such little time.

The streets were packed, shops were getting closed and people were trying to rush home to safety. You were nearing the madarrasa when you were pulled to the side in an alley.

"Y/n!" Abbas exclaimed. "Finally, I found you." You raised a brow and he grinned. "Your things are ready."

"Already?" You were in disbelief. How did he-

He puffed his chest. "Of course. I had a deadline and with the war being announced, I'm glad I made haste!" You felt hope again. If the parts are ready, all you need to do is assemble them and you can leave this timeline for once and for all, and if Baldwin and Salauddin do end up fighting each other, everything works out! You're sure that Salauddin would win by playing to his strengths, and because eventually Guy will fuck up and betray Baldwin and cause him to die. Then another crusade will happen and Salauddin will take over Jerusalem! Everyone wins.

"Well? Hand it over."

"I dont have it with me right now! I took the parts home to work on them. Lets go." You trailed behind him, the market still bustling as the air became more tensed. They're kingdom is about to be attacked and they have little to no time to prepare for it.

Soon, you reached his home. It was a cozy place, made of mud. The beige walls added onto the coolness. He lead you inside, crossing the patio. Abbas told you to wait there while he went inside a room to get your parts. While waiting, your eyes landed on a cage in the corner that had 5 doves.

"Here it is." Abbas returned with a wooden box and gave it to you.

Opening it, you saw the designs you had given him. You took the parts out and examined them. They weren't top notch, but they'll make do.

"Thank you." You handed him a pouch of gold coins. He pocketed it before raising his brows at you. "So... will you finally tell me what this is for?"

You looked up at him before taking out your time machine. Might as well assemble it here and leave as soon as possible. "I would but I'm afraid it'll go over your head." He frowned at your words before grumbling angrily under his breath before going to the doves to give them seed. Good, he should be distracted while you put these parts in.

It didnt take more than a few minutes for you to place them in. All you had to do was to put in the last key, turn it on and set the date-

"Y/n." You looked up at Abbas, not understanding his horrified expression. What's wrong? You followed his gaze and looked behind you, and there it was-

A shadow standing at the doorway of the patio.

You squinted your eyes before your heart dropped at the realisation.

Black robes, hood over the head, geared up.

Assassin.

"This is the wrong house." Abbas said with a trembling voice.

The assassin stepped forward into the light, while you and Abbas took a few steps back.

"What- what do you want?" The assassin didnt answer him, his eyes fixed on you. This is- this is not an Ismaili. They wouldnt attack alone, and especially not so soon, and not when a war hangs over their head.

The assassin took another step forward, this time you grabbed the time machine and held it closely. This made the dark figure tilt his head at you.

"Get behind me." You moved behind Abbas. "Get out of my house- this is not the time. Evacuate!" Abbas warned the guy but he didnt stop staring at you.

As soon as he took another step, Abbas grabbed a wooden stick from the side and ran towards him, only for him to be flipped over his shoulder and slammed to the ground. You took this as a sign to run but the assassin was faster, grabbing you by the chaddar as it ripped off you. Your eyes widened as he grabbed you by the shoulder and yanked you back and your immediate reaction was to slap him, but he caught your wrist and pushed you back inside the patio. Abbas got up and tried to punch him, but he was knocked down back on his back in a second.

You ran, but didnt make it more than a few steps before you got tackled to the ground. You struggled to break free but the assassin had his arms wrapped around your neck, putting you in a chokehold.

Knowing Abbas couldnt come to your rescue, you clawed at the assassins hands, flailed about trying to break free from under him. But he had overpowered you, putting immense pressure until you started seeing black dots.

Just at the last moment, your eyes caught the sight of the dove cage and instinctively, you yanked the cage, hoping to hit the assassin in the head with it, but all you managed was to tip it over, the latch holding it close dropped.

And in the next moment, the doves flew out and went straight for the assassin. You wouldnt say they were attacking him, but the moment he saw them flying in his direction, he raised his hands to bat them away, which only caused him to get scratched-

You didnt stick around to find out if they clawed his face off, springing to your feet as you ran inside a room, hoping to find a window to escape.

You spot the window, quickly opening the wooden frame to leap out. Only the moment you have one foot out, you're pulled back inside and thrown against the wall.

The assassin is back, his body language conveying he's more pissed now than before.

You cant outrun him. You take a fighting stance. You know very well that you cant beat him either, but it works well to at least make him doubt that.

Maybe you could bribe him?

"What do you want?" You ask him, your fists raised. He tilted his head at your attempt to look ominous.

You glared at him. "You let me and my friend go, and I can assure you I can give you enough gold to keep you out of work forever. I am..." you pause before using your last card. "I am King Baldwin's fiance, future queen of Jerusalem. Let me go, and I'll give you anything you want."

He took another step forward and you knew you were backed into a corner so you punched him, only he caught your fist before it was anywhere near his face.

He stared at you, tightening his hold on your wrist.

"Please dont hurt me." You gulped before raising your other hand to punch him, but he caught it too. Now both of your hands were in one of his while he used the other to grab your throat and push you against the wall.

"Oh fuc-" He squeezed a pressure point on your neck until you passed out.

-

Salauddin was on his horse at the front of his army, waiting at the gates of his kingdom for Baldwin. His generals had informed him that they had placed the respective troops posted according to his plan. Everyone waited with baited breath for his command. They're ready to protect their sultan, ready to sacrifice their lives to protect their kingdom.

Salauddin heard them before he saw them.

The heavy jingle of metal armour, the marching of the horses and then he saw their cross flags. He gave a nod to his men, signalling to be prepared.

They're coming.

In all honesty, Salauddin was expecting Baldwin's army to not make it through the hot desert, since they rarely ever leave Jerusalem.

But it was still a surprise when he saw the actual size of his army.

It wasnt that much. Thought he anticipated it, after all Baldwin wouldnt have left his kingdom without some men, but now this means that Baldwin is not relying on numbers.

He's relying on strategy. And its hard to predict Baldwin's moves.

Salauddin's mouth turned into a grim line. What was he planning?

The templars lead the army to the gates of Egypt. The Muslims had their weapons ready to be drawn. Salauddin watched the Christians Knights halt.

Do they attack now?

Baldwin emerged from the masses on his horse, sporting his iron mask despite not needing it anymore. Salauddin also rode his horse to meet him halfway, knowing his generals dont appreciate him leaving.

Their horses stopped a few feet apart from each other. Everything was silent apart from the sound of warm air whooshing through the desert.

Baldwin raised his hand. Salauddin heart skipped a beat. He's going to signal them to attack-

"Salam alaikum!" Baldwin greeted with a wave.

Salauddin gave a nod. "Walaikum asalam."

Baldwin tilted his head. "Why so tense, Sal? Not happy to see me?"

"I dont like uninvited guests." He replied. Baldwin chuckled. "Of course. But we're friends-"

"Why are you here, Baldwin?"

Baldwin stared at him. No king appreciates being interrupted.

"I'm here to meet my fiancee."

Salauddin stared at him unamused. "You left the Holy Land to meet your fiancee who was going to return home soon anyways?"

Baldwin shrugged. "I missed her."

"Baldwin."

The young king sighed. "I know I should've informed you before coming but I really do want to see Y/n. I mean no harm, Salauddin." He raised his hands in surrender. "I just thought it would be a nice surprise for her. Ever since she cured me, I realised I hadnt seen the world that much, so what better location than Egypt?"

Salauddin stared at him, before his gaze fell on his army.

"Come on, Salauddin. Where's Y/n?" Baldwin asked with a goofy smile.

Salauddin's brows furrowed before he sighed. "In my palace." He nodded at his men to open the gates as he lead Baldwin in. But not before whispering to his second in command to surround the kingdom from all perimeters and be on high alert. Things can always go south.

Baldwin smirked looking at the size of Salauddin's army. "Aww, you didnt have to bring them for my warm welcome." Salauddin ignored him, knowing very well that Baldwin knew how it looked when a king comes unannounced at another king's door.

-

They soon arrived at the palace, welcomed by servants and maids who were looking at Baldwin in awe. They had heard rumors of his beauty, and when he removed his mask, they realised how huge of an understatement it was. And the fact that this young king was the one to defeat their sultan at just 16 years age, it definitely added to the charm.

But Baldwin wasnt blind to the furious gazes of his soldiers either. He just ignored them, which was easy since his mind was occupied by thoughts of you. Y/n. My princess. My angel.

What surprised Salauddin was that Baldwin hadnt come alone. No, Guy was here too which only confused him more. If Baldwin brought Guy along, then who did he leave to take care of Jerusalem? Sibylla and Guy's son was still too young to be a heir.

He did remember your theory about Guy being the one to hire the assassins to ambush you in the desert. If Guy came here despite his failed attempts to get rid of his enemies, then he's either incredibly stupid or he's well assured that he'll get away with everything.

Salauddin wont let him. He'll make Guy pay.

"I hate to rush you Salauddin, I know Muslims are knows for their hospitality but can you just lead me to Y/n's room? She is a sight for sore eyes." Baldwin requested sweetly, making Salauddin roll his eyes. He signalled a servant to bring you down.

Guy looked disgusted to be in the presence of so many Muslims, but the moment he caught sight of any maids passing by, he would be eyeing them like a piece of meat. A maid came by holding drinks in a tray. When she offered it to Baldwin and then Guy, the latter startled the poor girl by purposely touching her wrist with his grubby paws.

Salauddin gripped the armrest tightly. If he wasnt Baldwin's brother-in-law, Salauddin would've plucked his eyes out and had him whipped in public to make an example out of scum like him.

"So, when did you leave your camp outside Jerusalem? I was expecting to see you there on my way here, but there were new troops of yours instead." Baldwin asked, sipping the cool drink.

"I came here with Y/n. I had some errands that required my attention." Salauddin didnt bring up the ambush, watching both him and Guy to gauge their reactions. Did they know?

"Went on any new conquests recently?" Salauddin decided to make small talk as they waited for you. He hopes you're not taking time to get ready to meet Baldwin. He'd rather you come up covered in a chaddar when Guy is here.

Instead of allowing Baldwin to answer, Guy cut him off. "Of course! We are the noble warriors, the Chosen Ones! God wants us to conquer as much as possible, for the sake of his-"

"How dare you talk to me?" Salauddin silenced him. "I'm talking to your king. He may allow it but you're in my kingdom now. You will abide by the rules or so help me, your head will be on a spike for the crows to shit on." Guy's eyes widened and his jaw fell open. No one had threatened him like that, at least not since he married Sibylla.

Baldwin barely suppressed a smile and when Guy looked at him for help, he only shrugged. "You should listen to him. We are his guests, after all."

The servant returned with the special guards he had assigned to protect you, all looking scared.

"S-sultan... the princess-" Baldwin and Salauddin's gaze sharpened at your mention. The poor servant gulped.

"The princess is gone."

There was deafening silence. The servant had his head bowed, along with the guards, all too afraid of the wrath they're going to face.

"Gone? Gone where?" Salauddin spat as he walked upto them.

"I- I dont know-" Salauddin grabbed the guard by the collar and shook him. "I left her in a room with no windows, a room guarded by the 6 of the most skilled men. Where did she go?!"

The guard's head only lowered further. "Sultan, we only opened the door to let princess Y/n's maid in and out. B-but- but when we opened the door, the maid was waiting there instead of the princess!"

"Which maid? Where is she?!" Salauddin roared.

The guard nodded at his men who pushed a young girl forward roughly. She fell on her knees, crying pitifully. He immediately recognised her.

Isabella.

"Where's the princess?" Salauddin questioned her, only to be answered in hiccups and tears. A vein on his forehead popped. He doesnt have time for this. Who knows where you are? If you're safe-

"Isabella." Baldwin called out gently, kneeling in front of her. She sniffled and bowed her head. "Isabella, look at me." She took panicked breaths before lifting her eyes to meet his kind ones, not a a grain of anger in them.

"You know where princess Y/n is?" He asked, pushing her hair back over her ear. She shook her head, hiccuping though she wasnt bawling her heart now.

"Use your words, Isabella. Tell me what happened." Enchanted by his gentleness, she spilled, told him all about how you made her take your place so that you could go and stop you from starting a war with the sultan.

Salauddin watched the interaction closely, trying to figure out if Isabella was lying. He did note Baldwin's behabiour throughout this entire interrogation as well. For someone whose future wife is missing, Baldwin is surprisingly calm. Then again, he's rarely ever seen Baldwin lose his temper.

"Where did she go?" Baldwin questioned her once again.

"I- I dont know, your majesty. She never told me!" Isabella cried out.

Baldwin nodded before standing up, his brows furrowed as rubbed his chin with his thumb and index finger.

"If Y/n was going out to stop me and she never reached the gates, then it means... she's still here." Baldwin said after some deep thought. He looked at Salauddin. "Your men have surrounded the kingdoms, havent they?"

Salauddin nodded before ordering his men to find you.

"Search every house, every place. No one gets in or out of the kingdom!" He yelled at them, watching them leave. He felt Baldwin stand beside him and out of the corner of his eye, he saw his face wasn't... too concerned.

"You know, for someone whose fiancee is missing, you're surprisingly calm." Salauddin was both stating his observation, and accusing him too. Did Baldwin know where you were?

Baldwin simply smiled, his dimples showing. "I know you will find her."

"And why is that?"

"Because if I dont have Y/n in my arms by today, then I will burn your Egypt to the ground."

-

The Templar Knights kicked down doors, rattled the poor citizens and took great glee in destroying their belongings, using you as an excuse to "search thoroughly". Salauddin's army was also rigorously working to find you, interrogating everyone for any clues on you. Then again, no one had really seen how you looked like. You were just another woman covered in a chaddar and niqaabi among a whole city of them. It would be like finding needle in a hay stack and Salauddin wasnt about to allow anyone to rip off the niqaabs off his Muslim women. He wont allow such a transgression.

Fortunately, Baldwin agreed. After all, why would you be hiding from him? You dont have a reason to, right? But still, he had to find you. So he was walking through the streets of Egypt himself to look for you.

Salauddin had joined him, and not just because he wanted to ensure the safety of his folks but also to stop Guy from provoking Baldwin by feeding him any lies.

That cretin was getting on his last nerves.

Salauddin pretended to be deaf as Guy harshly whispered to Baldwin that "How can a princess just vanish? Clearly, there's someone plotting. These Arabs must've sold her off! They dont respect women like we do-" only to be pushed away by Baldwin who told him to focus his energy on finding you.

Its been 3 hours since Baldwin's arrival and still no sign of you. Despite his best attempts, Salauddin could see Baldwin's calm demeanour chipping away. He was running out of patience.

They were now standing outside the madarrassa where all the scholars, students and staff were rounded up. Salauddin was the only one who knew about Abbas, but now that he looked at each face, he realised he was the only one missing.

Immeadiately, he sent the guards to find him. Salauddin was sure that he knew about your whereabouts, He had to.

"Who is Abbas?" Baldwin asked as they both followed the guards that had found out his residence.

Salauddin didnt miss the suspicion in his tone. As much as he wanted to toy with Baldwin, now is not the time.

"He is a craftsman. Y/n had hired him to make something for her. Maybe she went there to collect it." He purposely avoided telling him about the unique chessboard you had gifted him.

After half an hour, they had reached Abbas's residence. It wasnt all that odd to find the front door open, and truth be told, no one was expecting anyone to be home.

It was concerning to find the disasterous state of the house as they entered. Clay pots were smashed to the ground, a cage lying empty in one corner. Clearly, something had happened here.

However, something caught Salauddin's eye that made his heart sink.

Your chaddar, lying on the ground.

-

You woke up with a pounding headache. When your lids fluttered open, they first spotted the single candle in the corner of the dimly lit room. Memories of the previous events flashed through your mind and you fitted the pieces like a jigsaw puzzle.

When your eyes finally adjusted to the dimly lit room, you realised you were still in the same room the assassin had knocked you out. Not only that, but Abbas was also lying beside you, though he hadnt regained conciousness yet.

"Abbas- Abbas, wake up." You raised your hand to shake him, but your eyes caught the sight of your ripped sleeve. When- when did this-

You looked down at your clothes and realised they were all tattered too. Your niqaab was gone, you recalled the assassin had pulled off your chaddar during your escape attempt, and now that you looked at Abbas, he was in a similar state too. His clothes were torn and ripped too. But why? The assassin had already knocked you two out, he didnt need to-

You gasped, patting yourself to find your lack of belongings. Your time machine was gone, as was your jewellery an coins. You'd been robbed!

Panic surged into your veins as you violently shook Abbas, your machine was gone- your only way out of this era was gone!

"Abbas! Wake up!" But he only groaned in response. What was wrong with him?

You dont have time to wonder as you rushed to open the door. You need to catch that thief, assassin- whatever he was, before he got too far and you lost your time machine forever. Grabbing the handles, you tried to yank the door open, but it didnt even budge. Its... locked.

You whipped your head around, remembering the window you were trying to get out of earlier. Running up to it, you tried to open the wooden shutters, but they didnt move an inch. No. No. This is- this is not happening. You ran back towards the door. You felt your throat close up as you pulled the door with all your might before banging your fists against them in frustration.

You were locked in.

The thief has your time machine. He's probably gone far away with it. By the time anyone comes to your aid, he'd have fled the city. He'd be gone as Baldwin and Salauddin fight and burn Egypt to the ground. I'll be trapped here, probably die under the rubble with Abbas-

Abbas.

You look back at him, still unconscious. How hard was his head hit?

You fall back on your knees besides him, trying to wake him up. He'd know- Abbas would know how to get out of this room. He's smart, and he knows his house, probably built it himself- he'd know a way out.

"Abbas! ABBAS! Wake up! Wake up-!" You grabbed his head and laid it in your lap, turning it side-to-side to see if he was bleeding. You started to massage his temples, hoping the circulation will wake him up.

Wait. Circulation.

You recalled what they taught you in first aid class- what to do when someone faints? Raise their legs above heart level. You quickly moved and pulled his knees up until they were able to stay bent on their own, before cradling his head in your lap again, tapping his cheeks.

"Abbas- Abbas, wake up please. Abbas-! I swear if you dont wake up, I will give you a tight slap-"

You were cut off by the sound of the door being banged.

What in the-

The door shook as something hard banged against it. You jumped at the force. Did the war start already? Are they using cannonballs?

No. While cannonballs were used as heavy artillery in medieval Europe, it was more popularly used in the 1700s, but I'm still in the 1100s-

NOT THE TIME TO GEEK OUT! I'M ABOUT TO DIE-

The door burst open and light flooded into the room, blinding you for a moment. You raised your hand to shield yourself from the light before slowly bringing your hand down as you saw figures entering into the room.

Once your eyes finally adjusted, you recognised the figures in front of you.

Salauddin. Baldwin. Guy-

Guy?

All three of them stared at you, though your eyes remained focused on Baldwin, who looked at you, then at your clothes, and then... at Abbas.

The look of relief turned into confusion. What? Whats wrong?

You heard Salauddin yell something in Arabic at his soldiers, which made them instantly look away and leave the room. Baldwin kept looking at you in barely suppressed shock.

"Baldwin?" You whispered, though it was Salauddin who moved first, removing his chaddar and bending down to cover you with it, but your eyes were fixated on Baldwin's face. Why is he... looking at you like that?

Wait. If Baldwin and Salauddin are here together, then it means there's no war. Which means-

"Are you okay? What happened?" Salauddin asked you, though before you could answer him, Guy began laughing.

"Okay? She's more than okay!" He smirked. "After all, she was spending some time with her secret lover!"

Both your and Salauddin's eyes went wide. It finally clicked why Baldwin was looking at you like that.

He thinks you and Abbas-

"No. That's not true-" You tried to speak but Guy cut you off.

"Of course it is! Look at you, holding his head in your lap so sweetly!" He accused before snarling at you. "And you chose a dirty Muslim to cheat on our King? The audacity! And the lack of taste."

You shook your head. "Thats not true. This is Abbas. He's a- a craftsman-" "Oh, I'm sure you were pretty crafty with him too." Guy cut you off.

"Shut up, Guy!" You snapped. "I came to get my valuables from him. It was a gift! I had them commissioned for- for you Baldwin!" You half lied.

"And where is that gift?" Guy interrogated.

"I was robbed. We both were-" "Oh how convenient!" You glared at him. He was framing you. You pointed at your clothes. "How else do you explain the torn clothes?!"

Guy hummed and you knew you were going to regret as soon as a disgusting smile crept on his face.

"Well, animals fuck with wild passion-"

"I WAS ROBBED!" You yelled. "Look, the thief even knocked out Abbas!"

"I dont see a head injury." Guy shrugged. "I just think he's passed out from drinking. Or maybe his stamina wore out-"

"Shut up! Just shut up!" Your face was red with rage, though to anyone else it may have looked like you were caught red handed in a lie. You calmed yourself down. You need to explain before things got worse.

"Baldwin, I'm not having an affair with Abbas. He's married-" Once again, Guy cut you off, this time waving his hands. "My king, it doesnt matter to these Muslims. They're into polygamy. Whats one wife, when you can have four?"

Of all the things, this is the one thing he knows about Islam?

You didnt detect one, not a single emotion of trust or love from Baldwin's stoic face. Is he- is he actually believing this bull?

Why wouldnt he? He's a man after all. And who knows what other lies Guy has been filling his head with to make him doubt your loyalty?

Enough is enough. You need to come clean.

"You know what Guy? I was going to keep this a secret to let you beg for forgiveness, but I think its time for the truth, hm?" You watched Guy's smirk falter. Enough games. You stared at Baldwin with determination. "Here's what has happened Baldwin: Charlotte didnt just happen to drop by Jerusalem. No, Guy summoned her by pretending to be you. Oh and I have that exact letter where Guy used your respectful name as proof. Guy exploited Charlotte and his plan was to use her and her son's illness to infect you so that you could die and he could get your throne."

Guy's face paled. But you didnt stop there.

"Of course, when that didnt work because you and I have an unbreakable bond, Guy decided to get rid of me." You looked at Salauddin. "When I left for Egypt and I was at Salauddin's camp, he had hired assassins to ambush us in the dead of the night and kill me or Salauddin, or both! If I were to die while I was with Salauddin, he would've convinced you that Salauddin was the one who killed me. And if Salauddin was dead, then it meant good news for Guy because he would have to deal with one less enemy after he took your throne."

"Lies! There's no proof-"

"No proof? Baldwin, did you realise that more than half of my entourage was missing? Its because they're dead. And if that isnt enough proof, then this might help-" You pulled up your sleeves to show your fading burn marks. "My back is full of these marks because the assassins left me to die in a burning tent. It was Salauddin who saved me!"

"And today? When we heard you were coming, everyone thought that there will be a war. I left the palace on my own, to find you Baldwin. I wanted to stop you from committing unnecessary bloodshed! I came to Abbas's house to get my gift for you, but Guy sent a thief after us! The thief knocked us out and he robbed us both!" You explained. "Didn't you ever wonder Baldwin- why Guy decided to accompany you today? Guy has never left Jerusalem, not even for a war, not to defend his people. He wouldnt leave the throne empty! He hopes, he prays and he plots for you to die everytime you leave Jerusalem so that he can finally be king!"

"BLASPHEMOUS!" Guy screamed, red in the face. "You wench-!"

"With all due respect Guy, which is NONE! I didnt think you would be smart enough to come up with such schemes. I underestimated you, which turned out to be mistake because you made Baldwin doubt me!"

Guy shook his head and stood in between you and Baldwin, acknowledging the stoic faced king first. "This is slander! All lies, Baldwin! I'm your brother-in-law! I would never betray you!"

"Never betray Baldwin? You aren't even loyal to Sibylla! I could have more than half of Jerusalem attest to that you've tried sleeping with other women! Adulterer!" Guy's eyes practically popped out of his socket and he screeched.

"You dare accuse me of cheating?! YOU?! You're the one who is locked in a dark room with a strange man in your lap like a fucking whore!" Not risking Baldwin's suspicion, Guy stormed towards you with his hand raised to strike you.

"You unfaithful, lying bitch-!" You heard the air being sliced and you flinched as you felt something splatter across your cheek.

Thud.

You looked down to where the sound came from.

Guy's head dropped in front of you.

Your ears began ringing. Slowly, your eyes trailed back up to where his body remained.

Headless body. That fell to its knees before dropping to the side.

You could hear the ringing get louder.

Baldwin stood there, his eyes full of rage, his hand holding his sword that had just cut off Guy's head.

He was breathing heavily, nostrils flared and a vein popped in his temple. Your heart dropped as his eyes landed on you and he moved towards you.

Your consciousness finally gave out.

Salauddin caught you but not for long as Baldwin made his way to you. Fearing for you, Salauddin tried to bargain for your life.

"Baldwin, she didnt-"

"Let her go. Now." Baldwin commanded, throwing Abbas's head off your lap. He didnt wait for Salauddin to move, simply taking you from his arms, ripping off the chaddar and replacing it with his cloak instead, before picking you up.

"Lets go home." He whispered in your ear before kissing your temple, pulling you snug against him as he walked out of the room.

-

You wake up to the feeling something wet on your legs. You jolt, eyes snapping open as you look for your potential assaulter-

"Isabella?" You croaked as you saw the young girl at the foot of the bed, her face red and eyes swollen from all the crying.

"P-princess." She greeted tearfully, holding a wet towel in her hand. Her lips wobbled as she spoke, nose bright red, sniffling as she stared at you with those big sad eyes.

"What's wrong?" You couldnt help but be soft with her. She just- she looked so pitiful.

She looked down, her hands clutching the towel tightly. "You- you were- you were gone for so many hours. I- I didnt know where you were- his majesty and the sultan- they were so mad- they were so concerned- i- i didnt think they believed me when I said I didnt know- where- where you were- i thou-thought you were-" Her tears cut off her hiccuping explanation. You didnt think she would be this distraught over you.

"Its... its okay, Isabella. You didnt do anything wrong. I'm... fine." You tried to calm her down, beckoning her forward. You sat up on the bed, taking the rag from her hands before holding her hands in yours. Giving them a gentle squeeze, you assured her. "I'm fine, Isabella. In fact, I should apologise for causing you all the trouble-" She shook her head. "No- princess- its my duty to serve-" You gave her hands another squeeze, calming her down.

"Thank you- oh. Isabella-" You looked at her hands, noticing something red peeking from her wrist. You pulled her sleeve up, realising that the redness was from the welts on her arms. "What happened?" You asked, turning her wrist around, noticing a small scratch.

She pulled her hands away, pulling down her sleeves as she sniffled. "N-nothing to worry about, princess-"

"Did you get injured? Are you okay?" She nodded. "I just- when I heard you were missing, it made me worry too much and I- I tend to scratch my arms when I'm stressed!"

You gave her sympathetic look, grabbing the cool towel from earlier and handing it to her. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Isabella. Here- take this. It'll help your skin, hm?"

"But the king asked me to wipe your sweat with this-"

"Its fine- wait? What sweat?"

She nodded. "We've been travelling through the desert for some days. His Majesty suggested I be the one to wipe you clean while you were unconscious." Now that you looked around, you realised you were in a tent, much different in design to Salauddin's.

Wait, desert?

"We've left Egypt?"

"Yes-"

She stopped speaking as soon as the sound of footsteps filled the room.

You stiffened at the sight of Baldwin.

Isabella had to only take one look at his face before taking her leave. Events of the last time you had seen him flashed through your mind, and you couldnt help but be scared of him when you remembered the murderous look on his face as he killed Guy. It is one thing to know that a king has killed people, perhaps even more brutally than this but after spending so many months with Baldwin, you had become accustomed to his soft nature. Never in your worst nightmares could you have ever imagined such a barbaric actions from him, and to his own brother-in-law.

It made you question everything, your own mortality- your own safety with him.

"How are you feeling?" He had his arms crossed behind his back as he made his way towards you. It took everything for you to not flinch back and beg for your life. No- no, you need to think smartly. If he wanted to kill you, he wouldve gotten rid of you back there-

Or maybe he has decided to torture you.

"I'm fine." You replied weakly, keeping your eyes on your lap. You dont want to risk pissing him off.

Maybe I should apologise, clear the air before he has any other doubts about me.

"I'm sorry." You said abruptly, finally looking up at him. His stoic expression didnt falter. This is not the Baldwin you knew, no. This was the king you had imagined when you first came here. Stiff and apathetic.

Taking his silence as a sign, you continued. "I'm sorry... for everything. For hiding the truth about Guy, for causing misunderstandings, for making you doubt me-"

"I never doubted you." He cut you off.

Your brows raised in surprise. He sighed sitting down on the bed besides you.

"I never doubted you, Y/n. Not once." He said with conviction."I didnt doubt you when Salauddin said you'd be with Abbas. I didnt doubt you when Guy raised false allegations. I didnt doubt you when I saw you in that dark room alone with that man. You could've been naked in there and I still would not have doubted you."

Your lips parted. What... what was he-

"You trust me? That much?" You couldn't help but whisper.

He smiled sadly. "I do. And more than that, I trust in my love for you." Baldwin looked down at his hands, still smiling gently. "I love you so deeply that I know you would never betray me. I have loved you the way I want someone to love me. My love for you... it is free of impurity, of imperfection. And thats how I know you would never betray me."

You couldnt help the tears that came in your eyes, and you looked down. How could he- how could he-

"If anyone should apologise, it should be me, Y/n." Your head snapped back at him. He was looking at you with genuine guilt. "I may have loved you deeply but I have failed to express it to you. Had I- had I done a better job, had I let you know just how much I feel for you, you wouldn't have hesitated to come to me. You wouldn't have felt the need to hide your traumas, your pain from me. You wouldn't have felt shy to get my help, to tell me your secrets. All of this could've been avoided if I had made you feel secure enough to come to me. I alone am responsible-"

"Baldwin." Your teary voice cut him off. You shake your head, sniffling at him. "This- this isnt your fault- I-"

"You did nothing wrong." He assured you, holding your hand. "Traps were set for you, but it was my job to save you from them. I am your protector, your shield. I owe my life to you. I owe everything to you."

A tear slipped from your eye. "I- I didnt think you'd save me. I thought you didnt trust me- I thought I lost you forever." You dont know why you said that, but they were true.

"I would've found you. I will always find you." Baldwin cupped your cheek, he felt his heart break at your confession.

"If I don't go to you Y/n, then where do I go?" And at that, the dam you'd been holding finally broke.

Baldwin immediately pulled you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you as you buried your head into his shoulder, sobs wracking your entire being. You dont know why you're crying, whether its because of Baldwin's pure love for you, or that Guy is dead because of you and you've ruined the timeline, or because you're mourning the loss of your time machine and its just dawning on you that you're stuck here forever.

He patted your back, rocking you gently like a child. "All my paths lead to you, Y/n. All my conquests bring me to you. Everything leads to you." He kissed your cheek, his hand petting your hair smoothly as you broke down in his arms. "You... you are the beginning and end of my everything."

Baldwin pulled you away and wiped your tears away with his thumbs. "I love you, Y/n. And I know you love me too. You may not say it, but I know deep down in your heart, you love me. I know you do-"

"I love you, Baldwin." You said.

His eyes went wide. "You don't have to say it-"

"I love you, Baldwin. I really do." You admitted.

Baldwin's shock was replaced with joy, a grin gracing his face as he cupped your face and kissed your forehead deeply.

"You have no idea how happy you've made me." He whispered before pulling you into his embrace.

-

Following this, you both began your journey back to Jerusalem. Every now and then, you'd start crying again because you'd realised just how much you were loved by Baldwin. You remembered the time when you saw him with Charlotte and you didn't give him a chance to explain. You had already decided that he was a cheater, he was disloyal. Yet when the tables were turned, when everything pointed against you and Baldwin had every right to find you disloyal, have you punished for even being in a locked room with another man, he trusted you. He didn't question your love for him. And even if you didn't love him back then, you respected him enough, both as a king and as a man and he still didn't ask for an explanation, let alone accuse you of adultery.

The rest of the trip home was spent with you crying and Baldwin consoling you like a toddler. No matter how many times your tears fell, he was right there to wipe them away and assure you that you did nothing wrong.

Did you love Baldwin? Maybe not back then, but you do now. Perhaps he was right. Maybe you did love Baldwin deep down, you just didn't know it.

And it's not like you don't have a choice either way. With your time machine lost, you can't leave this place. So, you've accepted your fate and agreed to marry him. Baldwin says the wedding preparations are mostly complete and the wedding day is on Sunday.

Today is Friday, when you both finally reach Jerusalem. It didn't dawn on you until now just how you were going to face Sibylla, the woman whose husband was killed because of you.

But Baldwin already had a plan. "Guy was buried in an unmarked grave outside of Egypt. I have instructed my knights to inform everyone that Guy had died a dishonourable death because he was a traitor to the crown."

"Traitor to the crown?"

He nodded. "I'll tell Sibylla I caught him cheating on her and plotting against me." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Its believable. She'll be upset, but she'll get over it. Besides, she deserves better than him. I have already found a list of suitors for her."

He truly has thought of everything.

-

Sibylla as expected was the grieving widow and after she welcomed you and Baldwin, she excused herself and left. You pitied her, she really did love Guy despite all his shortcomings. But she also respected her brother.

After a quiet dinner, you had returned to your room. You sat on your bed as you thought over the events of the past few days. Baldwin had assured you that he doesnt hold any hostility towards Salauddin. In fact, to further put your mind at peace, he told you that he had invited Salauddin to the wedding. As for Abbas, Baldwin said he doesnt know what happened to him but he's sure Salauddin didnt harm the man.

"Did you ever find your family?" Baldwin had asked earlier. You shook your head, telling him that you mistaken someone you thought was family.

"I know you would prefer to have the Nikkah first, before our actual wedding, but I wasnt able to find someone to marry us off in the Islamic way. But then-" He grinned, almost proud of himself. "I decided who better than Salauddin?! Since he'll be arriving on the day of the ceremony, he could walk you down the aisle and then later that day, he could do the Nikkah for us!" You could only smile and agree, what difference does it make what ceremony happens first? You're stuck here either way, and you're gonna be his wife soon.

You sighed and got up to dress into something more comfortable. As you removed your clothes, your hand found something in your underclothes.

The key.

You fiddled with it. Its useless now. The thief probably has broken your machine or sold it and it could be anywhere in the world now, also useless without this key here.

You put it back in your underclothes. Perhaps it'll be of use you can craft your machine again one day.

Lying in your bed, you thought about Guy. You didnt feel guilty, no. He had it coming, and it really was a matter of you versus him at the end. But what bothers you is how much you had underestimated him.

Guy's plan was perfect. There was no chance of escape for you. He had ambushed you and Salauddin, and when you narrowly escaped that attack, he brought Baldwin to Egypt to cause misunderstandings between him and Salauddin. And when they found you with Abbas, all his allegations were perfectly said. You're only here because Baldwin was far too much in love with you. He had no reason to not take Guy's words over yours.

You turned to your side and closed your eyes.

Perhaps God saved me.

-

Today is Saturday and Sibylla had taken you to get your dress fitted.

"Whats that?" You pointed at the huge frame, covered by silk as the servants struggled to hang it on the wall.

"Oh, you're not supposed to see it yet, but Baldwin had commissioned a portait of you. He wants to gift it to you tomorrow, so dont peek. He'd hate to miss your first reaction." She explained.

"You look... absolutely stunning." Sibylla praised as she looked at you in awe. She brought some jewellery to pair with your white gown. A diamond necklace, tear drop earrings, and-

The ring.

"Its the-"

"The exact same ring!" Sibylla finished for you, slipping it on your finger. "After yours was stolen by that thief in Egypt, Baldwin had the same ring made again by the royal jeweller within a day!" Your heart warmed at the gesture. Baldwin must've known you felt guilty over losing his family ring.

"Isabella, will you pass me the veil?" You asked. Isabella brought the soft veil and helped you wear it. As she was adjusting it, your eyes caught sight of her hands again.

"Oh, they didnt heal?" You gently grabbed her hands, taking note of the same red welts on her arms again. She pulled her hands from your grasp away.

"N-no, they healed princess. Its just- its that I'm stressed again! Thats why my skin is itchy and I- scratched them raw."

"Stressed? By what?" You asked.

"Oh- um, the wedding." She muttered. "Its- its not that I'm not excited for it, I am very happy for the union of you and His majesty, but its just we have very little time and there's so much to do-"

You giggled, nodding at her understandingly. "I see. Well, I apologise for causing you to stress. And I hope you know how much I appreciate your efforts."

"Its my honour to serve you, princess." She squeaked.

"Well, do get those checked out soon, Isabella. I dont want you getting sick." Sibylla advised the young girl who bowed her head before taking her leave.

Sometime later, after you had lunch with Baldwin, you decided to go to the gardens and... be by yourself for a while.

Planned or not, I'm getting married tomorrow. This will be my last day as a single woman and I... I should savour every moment left.

You were sitting in a cozy little spot in the royal garden. It was besides the huge bush maze, near the area where your time machine had first gotten burned by the maids accidentally. Speaking of maids, the small entourage had given you space and were standing near the maze, away from your eyes with some knights. They were all eager to please you, the future queen, if only to get a better status by you or Baldwin.

But you had already decided to make Isabella your lady-in-waiting. She deserves it, for everything she's done for you.

You laid down on the soft bed of grass, looking up at the sky as you wondered what will happen tomorrow. Well, nothing about the wedding, Sibylla had made you rehearse several times that you knew exactly how the ceremony will go tomorrow. No, you were curious about... how your wedding will impact the future.

Will you cease to exist? Will the world change because the crusades might not happen since a Christian king married a Muslim commoner? Will there-

Doves flew up in the sky. You smiled, recalling the doves in Abbas's house. You hoped he was alright now. Maybe he could attend the wedding-

Wait.

You sat up with a jolt at the realisation, heart beating fast as you connected the dots.

-

Isabella rushed to the gardens. A servant had told her that you had immediately summoned her. Fearing the worst, she hiked up her gown and ran as fast as she could.

She was out of breath by the time she found you. "You called for me, princess?" She gasped out. You hummed, standing beside a gilded cage of doves.

"Arent they so beautiful?" You asked her, beckoning her to come forward. "They are indeed." She agreed, standing beside you.

"I was thinking of releasing them tomorrow, outside the chapel. All the maids could hold them in their hands and release them as I walk out with the king. What do you think?"

She nodded. "Wonderful idea. I'll go and have it arranged-"

"Hm? Oh, I took care of that. Why dont you open the cage and hold this one for me?" You smiled at her as you made you took a few steps back. "And gloves off, Isabella. I want to see how you will look like tomorrow."

Isabella throat ran dry, She gulped looking at you, then at the cage before back at you.

"I- I cant hold the doves, princess. They'll slip out of my hands-"

"We have plenty here for you to practise. Dont worry. Now make haste." You crossed your arms in front of you and looked at her expectantly.

She parted her lips to say something, but then looked back at the cage. "Whats the matter? Dont know how to hold them?" You sighed before making your way back to the cage. "They're just tiny little birds, gentle ones really. They wont bite you, so I dont know why you fear them. Here, let me show you how to hold one." You opened the cage and carefully held the dove in your hands, petting it softly. "There, there."

You suddenly thrusted the bird in her direction, and Isabella jumped back. "What's the matter? Scared of birds?"

Isabella hesitantly nodded. "Yes, I'm sorry princess- I- I- dont like birds. I'm very much afraid of them." You nodded understandingly, before placing the bird back in the cage. "How very inconsiderate of me. Very well, off you go." Isabella bowed graciously and was about to leave when you suddenly grabbed her arm and rubbed a feather along her exposed arm.

"P-princess-!" She shrieked, trying to yank her arm out of your grasp but your grip didnt relent.

"Would you look at that?" You grinned looking at the area turning bright red. "Are you itchy now? Did I stress you too much?"

Isabella could only look at you in horror as you became angry.

"How stupid do you think I am?" You snarled before throwing her hand down. "That itchy red skin wasnt from stress, it was from birds!" Her eyes widened.

"You had me thinking that your tears, your red skin, your snotty sniffles was because you were soooo concerned for me. But you actually had the rose fever from birds!" You recalled seeing the scratch on her hands the day you had first seen her skin, which wasnt just random skin welts. They were hives, from her allergy to avian protein (or birds, in simple terms).

Isabella could only look at you in silence as you continued. "How long did you think you could keep this charade up? Did you honestly think I wouldnt find out?!" She kept quiet while you continued, which only made you angrier.

"It was you. You were the thief. You- only you knew when I would leave the palace. You followed me! And you stole from me?!" When she didnt speak, your threatened her.

"Say something before I tell the king how you attacked me!"

Isabella looked up, and she smirked.

"You have no proof."

You looked at her in disbelief. Instead of defending herself, denying all the things- she basically admitted to it all.

"Isabella, where are my belongings?" You asked her. "If you return my things, I wont let you stay here, but I will let you leave this castle on your two feet." You didnt bother asking her why she did it, you cant waste any more time. You need to get your time machine back.

She shrugged, playing with her nails. Now that she was caught, she didnt bother putting up her scared, demure little girl image. "It doesnt matter. You will never get it. And you're not getting rid of me either. After all, you have no proof of any of the things you accused me of."

"You think you're going to get away with it?" She hummed. "I already have, princess. Now, I will be returning to my duties to prepare for you wedding tomorrow. And I think we'll do no birds-"

You pulled out a knife, silencing her. She looked at the knife before smiling. "Are you really going to kill me? Did you forget how I overpowered you and Abbas back there?"

"I havent." You bring the knife up to your throat. "But if you dont tell me where my belongings are this instant, I will slit my throat and let you explain to the king how you killed me. Oh and you may think you can just sneak out of here, but remember, there's a whole entourage who saw you come here. They'll tell Baldwin you were the last person to see me, and then no matter where you run, Baldwin will hunt you down. Him and his Templar knights."

Her brows furrowed at your threat. "Princess, I dont-"

"Dont think for a moment I wont do it, Isabella. I'm mental." When she remained quiet, you pressed the blade harder into your neck, just enough for the skin to break and blood to pour, making her eyes wide.

"Okay! Okay- stop! I'll tell you."

-

Isabella lead you to a room inside the castle, hidden away in a corner. You had never been here before, you realised when you stepped inside. She pulled out a drawer from the desk, which had a false floor in it. Lifting the wooden panel, you saw all your belongings, including your time machine.

"Leave." You ordered her. Once you were alone, you pulled out the key from your underclothes and placed it inside. Saying a tiny prayer, you turned on the machine.

It worked. The tiny lights turned on. All you had to do was set the date and-

The machine was snatched from your hands. "Isabella drop-!" Your eyes widened at the sight of Baldwin holding the machine.

"What are you doing?" He asked you, looking at the machine.

"Baldwin, please give it back-"

"This?" He shook the machine in his hands. "Sure, you can have it." He smiled at you before bashing the machine to the ground.

"BALDWIN NO! STOP!" You tried to stop him, but Baldwin pushed you away and kept smashing the machine until its lights went out and they key broke.

"NOOOOO!" You finally snatched it from his hands but it was too late. The screen wouldnt turn on, wouldnt display the date no matter what you did. The key was broken.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" You cried out.

"What is wrong with me? What is wrong with you?!" Baldwin yelled. "What were you going to do with that? Leave me, the love of your life, to go where?! Back to heaven?!"

Heaven? No fucking way-

"Do you- do you actually think I'm an angel?" Oh god. The look on his face was enough to let you know that he was actually serious.

"You can deny it all you want, but I am your husband to be and you cannot lie to me! You appeared out of nowhere in my castle. You cured me, you brought that baby back to life and you have escaped death one too many times! You may think I'm a fool, but I'm the king of Jerusalem, head of the Church and you were sent to me by God Himself! YOU ARE MINE AND I WILL NOT LET YOU GO BACK!"

Oh God. Oh God, you're marrying a crazy person.

Wait.

"How did you know I was here?" Your brows knitted together when he didnt reply, still looking at you in rage. "Did Isabella-" You gasped.

Of course. OF-FUCKING-COURSE!

"She wasnt a thief. She was a spy!" You chuckled humourlessly. "All this time, I thought Guy was behind it all, but I knew- I knew he was too dumb to come up with such a plan. It was you! It was always you! You sent the Ismailis after me! You sent Isabella after me to steal my belongings and spy on me! You set me up with Abbas so that when you "saved" me, I'd fall for you! Oh and I'm sure you made it seem like Charlotte was also here because Guy had called her. You framed Guy just so that you could have an excuse to get rid of him!"

"I did it because I love you!"

"You hurt me because you loved me?" You whispered to him, tears flowing down your cheeks. "I almost burned to death because of you. And you say- no. Why did you do this, Baldwin? Why the hell did you do all this?!"

"I was- I was testing you." He answered, bending down on his knee to cup your face. "I... only wanted to see if you would come to me for help. If you truly trusted me, loved me enough to come to me." He wiped your tears away. "I'm sorry it had to happen this way, but it worked out in the end-"

"You dont test the people you love, Baldwin."

"Oh, come on. Even God tests his strongest believers-"

"YOU ARE NOT GOD!" You shrieked, pushing him away.

"I'm not, but I'm special to Him. He made you for me. He gifted you to me. He made you fall in love-"

"I dont love you!" You cried. "I can never love you! Never!"

Baldwin's face hardened. "You do love me. You said so yourself. Now, youre just saying nonsense out of hysterics. Calm down-"

"I hate you. I have never loathed anything as much as I loathe you. I would never love you, even if you were the last man on Earth. I fucking hate you."

Baldwin stared at your red face. "Well, I hope you can change your mind because we will be getting married tomorrow regardless." He tried to touch your face but you slapped his hand away. "Besides, I love you enough for the both of us."

-

Its Sunday. You were locked in your room with a whole infantry ordered to not let you out. You had cried the entire night at your loss, at your fate, at your stupidity. How could you have ever trusted Baldwin? And now you will have to marry this religious lunatic.

The maids did their best to dress you up and tried to mask your red, swollen eyes. And with Isabella in the room, you were sure she had told them to not comment at your pitiful state.

You were standing outside the chapel with Salauddin. Everything seemed to blur, the choir singing, the attendees- you couldnt focus on anything.

"Y/n." You finally looked up at Salauddin, who was looking at you with deep concern. "Are you okay?" He asked you, noticing your teary eyes and dull expression.

"No."

He wasnt expecting you to answer bluntly.

"Do you want to marry Baldwin?" He whispered.

"No."

"I can help you-"

"No." You sniffled. "No one can."

The knights stood outside the chapel doors, waiting for you to enter. A few ladies held your trail behind you. Salauddin cast a glance at them before passing you something in your hand discreetly.

"Abbas asked me to give you this."

You opened your palm to see-

A key.

The key!

But how did he make this? You never designed it-

You smiled. That genius. He must've used the other parts to figure out the design and crafted it.

Abbas, I'm sorry I dont give you enough credit.

"Give him my thanks. And a lot of money, hm?" Salauddin could only nod in confusion. You looked back at your ladies. "I need to pee." Their eyes widened at the use of such crass language, especially in front of the sultan.

"But princess, the ceremony is about to start-"

"Would you rather I pee in my gown?" You snapped.

"But there is no bathroom here-"

"Then be useful and find a sheet and a bush. Now!" They all scrambled away to find some bush. You looked at the knights in front of you. "Go inside and inform them of a delay. The princess has to take a shit."

They looked hesitant to leave. "I'm not taking off my underclothes in front of you men. LEAVE!" They hurriedly went inside and closed the door to give you privacy.

You looked at Salauddin. "Can I borrow your horse?" He nodded, helping you up on it.

"Where are you going? I'll come with."

You shake your head. "No. I have to go alone. And I suggest you go inside as well."

"Y/n-"

"Please, Salauddin. No more questions. I dont want to lie to you." You smiled at him.

Salauddin reluctantly went inside the chapel, and you rode the horse out of there. There was only so long before Baldwin realised you had left, so you needed to speed things up. Grateful that you had swapped your broken time machine during your heated argument with Baldwin. You placed the new key in, just as you heard the sound of galloping horses and Baldwin-

"Y/N!" You didnt pay attention as you sped off ahead, only stopping when you reached the edge of the cliff. Climbing down, you looked at your machine as you turned the key.

It didnt turn on.

No. No. No-

"Y/N! GET BACK HERE!" Baldwin yelled at you, getting off his horse as he made his way. His troops had surrounded the area so you couldnt escape.

You looked back at your time machine and you- you banged it with your hand. "Come on. Come on!" This had to work- you banged on it as you would bang on a TV set when it stopped working, on a remote when it didnt operate quite right.

"Did you think you could escape me?!" You looked up and Baldwin was a few feet away.

"Baldwin stop!" You took a step back, nearing the cliff. "I'll jump-I'll fucking jump, I swear!" He halted.

"Dont be stupid, Y/n. Come to me, and we can put this behind us-"

You banged on the machine, cutting him off.

The machine turned on.

You grinned as Baldwin stared at you, shaking his head. "Dont-"

You jumped, pressing the button and hoping you returned to your time. You hadnt been able to set the date cause of the broken buttons.

The last thing you heard was Baldwin screaming your name.

So what do you guys think? Yall better comment and send asks and reboots because i sacrificed lunch and dinner for this.

Also, what do u guys think will happen in the next part? Do you think she'll return home or to a new timeline??? And which era???👁👁

PART 8 is here!

[ariichive]

PROTECTOR

no matter how many times you complained to him, he’d always have his eyes on you.

cw: gen. neutral reader, foxian reader, establish relationship, jing yuan acts clueless, teasing, fluff, protectiveness/possessiveness, slight yandere but not extreme, mimi <3, wrote this on my phone :,)

���mimi, sit!” the big cat stared at you with a laziness that was all too familiar.

mimi sat still, following orders. “now stay!” you took a cautious step back, not taking your eyes off the lion.

then another.

then one more.

you cheered triumphantly; mimi was staying! with confidence, you turned your back, ready to march into the seat of divine foresight to see (confront) your lover.

it’s been days since this lion has been following you around. scaring off many neighbors, friendly vendors, and even children. it would even fit its into your bedroom whenever jing yuan wasn’t present, waking you up to a giant lick on your face.

mimi’s ginormous head gently pushed against your back.

“mimi noo!” you cried in frustration to the cat that didn’t give a damn.

“stay!” you pointed at a spot further back, only for the cat to look at you like you were insane. your ears twitched in annoyance and tail swaying viciously.

mimi was a good cat, it’s just that her loyalty only partially lied in you. she instead followed all of jing yuan’s orders.

smart ass cat with a cunning owner.

“i must say, it is quite entertaining seeing your fondness for my lion.”

you turned around quickly, staring at the man who was behind all of this.

you pointed an accusatory finger at him, “you!”

he did his familiar closed eye smile at you, “it’s good to see you my dear.”

you would be lying if you said your earlier confidence didn’t waver a bit. it was so hard to be upset at jing yuan when he was this charming.

“get your lion!”

jing yuan rubbed the back of his neck in faux confusion. “what do you mean exactly? ah, no greeting kiss today?”

you narrowed your eyes, he was trying to change the subject.

“precious mimi seems very fond of accompanying me everywhere i go.”

he perked up at that, seemingly pleased. “is that so?” he turned his attention to his lion, signaling her to come forth; she did so without hesitation.

“good girl,” he smiled softly as he pat her head.

“mimi stay out here,” he then focused his attention back to you. “let’s talk inside, too many wandering eyes out here.” he said it with a smile but there was definitely hidden malice underneath.

jing yuan offered his hand to you, leading you inside as mimi stayed posted outside.

the seat of divine foresight was empty, save for a few workers.

“has she really been that much of a bother to you?” jing yuan genuinely asked with the tilt of his head. you sighed, and caved in to giving him a quick peck on the lips; one he tried to deepen.

“not a bother, but… do you really find it necessary to have her following me around all day?”

jing yuan answered immediately. “yes, i do. it is important for me that you’re safe at all times. mimi may be a bit young, but she’s still effective.”

"i can confidently say, nothing's going to happen to me. i'm not as weak as you make me out to be."

he hummed, trailing his fingers up your back, the warmth of his palm pressing between your shoulder blades. he ignored your words, “you speak of freedom so often, my love, but tell me—what would you even do without me?”

his words sent a shiver down your spine, and he felt it. he relished it.

“you don’t need to answer,” he continued, tone velvety smooth, but his grip on your hips told a different story. “i already know. you belong here, with me. and deep down, you know that too.”

your lips parted, but no words came out. jing yuan took that as a victory.

his golden eyes gleamed as he leaned in, his forehead resting against yours, his breath fanning over your skin. “mimi watches you because i allow her to. she follows you because she knows what i know—you need to be protected. kept safe. kept close.”

he tilted your chin up with two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“if mimi wasn’t watching over you,” he whispered, his grip tightening just enough to remind you of his strength, “then i would have to do it myself. all day. every day.”

the weight of his words settled in your stomach like a stone. “y-you’re being dramatic—”

“am i?” he cut you off smoothly, tilting his head. “perhaps i should keep you here. no more wandering eyes, no more foolish risks… just you and me.”

his lips brushed against your cheek as he sighed. “such a tempting thought.”

your tail swayed erratically, and jing yuan chuckled, finally loosening his grip—but not enough to let you go.

when you defeatedly shook your head no, he brought a hand up to your ears, stroking them gently. “good.” he was treating you just as he did mimi, like a trained pet.

“y-you know my ears are sensitive,” you pouted at him, ultimately deciding to change the topic, only causing him to let out a deep chuckle. “i can’t help myself. since you’re already here, might as well stay until i finish up.”

he was extremely hard to refuse, and you doubt he’d let you say no anyways. “and you’ll finish all your work? last time, madam fu xuan didn’t seem so happy.”

he brushed off your worries with soft kiss, leading you to his desk. “no need to worry your pretty head about these matters.”

before you could protest, jing yuan tugged you onto his lap, his arms looping securely around your waist. “i get so little time with you as it is,” he murmured, resting his chin against your shoulder. “mimi and i have to share, don’t we?”

you sighed, your tail flicking in exasperation. “you say that as if you don’t assign her to me on purpose.”

jing yuan’s laughter was quiet but full of amusement. “and yet, you still fall for my little schemes every time.”

you huffed but couldn’t exactly deny it, just happy the darker moment faded. “at least call her off when i need to bathe. do you know how unsettling it is to have a lion watching me the whole time?”

jing yuan hummed, as if considering it. “mimi does take her duties very seriously.”

“you mean she takes your orders very seriously.”

he smirked, tracing small circles on your back. “same thing.”

“general!” a cloud knight called out, exasperation clear in his tone. “mimi won’t move from the entrance, and she’s growling at anyone who tries to get past her!”

jing yuan sighed, rubbing his temple. “i swear, she’s worse than fu xuan when she comes looking for my reports.”

“she’s just following orders,” you teased, poking his chest. “after all, you did tell her to keep an eye on me.”

he smirked, tilting his head slightly. “ah, so you admit she’s a necessary precaution.”

you groaned, realizing you’d walked right into his trap. “i am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, you know.”

jing yuan hummed in thought, his fingers lightly tracing circles against your back. “perhaps. but it brings me peace of mind to know you have an extra set of eyes on you—especially ones with sharp claws and powerful jaws.”

you rolled your eyes. “oh, so romantic.”

“i do try,” he replied, his smirk never faltering.

before you could retort, yet another thud from outside made you both pause.

“for the love of—” the worker’s voice cracked. “she’s laying on the steps now, and refusing to move! the guards are too scared to walk past her!”

jing yuan chuckled, clearly entertained. “persistent as ever.”

you, however, groaned into his shoulder. “i swear, if i wake up tomorrow and find her in our bed again, you are dealing with it.”

“hmm,” jing yuan pretended to consider. “what if i told you that’s already been decided?”

you gasped, pulling back to look at him. “jing yuan!”

[astrotruther]

.°Mars in the Sheets₊˚🔞

♈️ Aries Mars | 1st House

They want it fierce and unfiltered. They’ll catch your gaze with that determined, fiery look, then suddenly press you against a wall and kiss you with all they've got. They love to lead and go all in, which can feel almost primal. Spontaneous, hands-on energy—literally, can't keep their hands off you. Fast and intense—sex is a conquest.

2H – Physical touch is everything—slow but hungry. 3H – Dirty talk, teasing, mental stimulation—words fuel arousal. 4H – Emotionally-driven, protective, needs to feel safe first. 5H – Passionate and playful—sex is a game they intend to win. 6H – Focused on technique, enjoys pushing their limits. 7H – Dominant yet responsive—loves a partner who challenges them. 8H – All or nothing—sex must be transformative, almost destructive. 9H – Adventurous and open-minded—loves trying new experiences. 10H – Power is an aphrodisiac—status and control fuel desire. 11H – Unpredictable, experimental—loves breaking the rules. 12H – Hidden intensity—looks calm but secretly obsessive.

When They're Into You: They’ll make the first move, no hesitation. You’ll know they want you because they’ll tell you straight up—or just grab your hand and pull you in.

🎬 Scenario: A heated argument that turns into a passionate kiss. The sound of a door slamming before they turn back and press their lips to yours, breathless.

♉️ Taurus Mars | 2nd House

Their love language is all about sensation—long, lingering touches that make you feel adored. They’ll run their hands down your arms, lips grazing your neck, savoring every moment and every inch. Think low lights, silk sheets, and cozy, indulgent textures. They'll pull you close on the couch, gently pressing their forehead to yours before a lingering kiss that feels like home. Sex is about claiming and being claimed.

1H – Sensual, slow-burning, needs full-body connection. 3H – Slow seduction—whispers, teasing, anticipation. 4H – Needs emotional warmth—intimacy must feel like home. 5H – Loves deep, passionate pleasure—enjoys taking their time. 6H – Knows exactly what pleases their partner—patient and skilled. 7H – Prefers harmony—sex must feel beautiful and mutual. 8H – Dark, intoxicating, secret desires—obsessed with control. 9H – Natural stamina—wants to experience sex in different places. 10H – Status-driven—sex is power, dominance, and legacy. 11H – Experimental but selective—only opens up to a chosen few. 12H – Erotic but private—fantasies stay locked in their mind.

When They're Into You: They'll find subtle ways to touch you—a brush of the fingers, resting their hand on your thigh. Their patience is unmatched, and they'll savor every moment.

🎬 Scenario: Candlelight flickering, soft music in the background, hands trailing over silk sheets. A deep, unhurried kiss that leaves you dizzy.

♊️ Gemini Mars | 3rd House

They'll surprise you, coming up from behind and wrapping their arms around you, whispering something mischievous in your ear. They love the build-up: playful teasing, flirty comments, and clever words that drive you a little wild. Expect variety and constant switches—they’ll play with your hair, steal kisses, then lean back to see your reaction. Communication and spontaneity are their turn-ons, keeping things light and exciting. Dirty talk, sexting, teasing—it starts with the mind.

1H – Restless and playful—sex is a fast-moving exchange. 2H – Touch-starved but needs constant variety. 4H – A mix of emotional depth and fun—craves intimacy but avoids attachment. 5H – Flirty, playful, thrives on mental foreplay. 6H – Overthinks but perfects their technique—loves variety. 7H – Needs a smart, engaging partner—boredom is a turnoff. 8H – Talks their way into their partner’s deepest desires. 9H – Loves spontaneous, uninhibited sex—new places, new cultures. 10H – Sex as an accomplishment—loves a challenge. 11H – Kinky, open-minded—thrives on breaking norms. 12H – Secretly wild—hidden desires even they don’t understand.

When They're Into You: Expect nonstop teasing, stolen kisses when you least expect it, and flirtatious banter that keeps you guessing.

🎬 Scenario: Laughter between kisses, a game of tag that turns into being pinned against a wall, whispered secrets in the backseat of a car.

♋️ Cancer Mars | 4th House

Cancer Mars is all about tender, protective energy—they crave a safe, private space where they can let down their walls. They want to wrap you up, both physically and emotionally, and keep you close. They crave intimacy. They love skin-to-skin contact and meaningful kisses. Sex is a very private matter for them.

1H – Intense and protective—sex is deeply emotional. 2H – Needs security first—then, they become devoted. 3H – Soft-spoken seduction—melts through words. 5H – Passionate but private—only opens up in trust. 6H – Takes care of their partner’s needs—subtle but intense. 7H – Feeds off emotional connection—sex must mean something. 8H – Possessive, deeply bonding—once in, they never let go. 9H – Needs emotional adventure—craves deep conversations and intimacy. 10H – Power and protection turn them on—loves to be needed. 11H – Surprisingly wild but only in trusted circles. 12H – Deep, hidden cravings—needs to feel safe before opening up.

When They're Into You: They’ll make sure you feel safe and wanted. Late-night check-ins, forehead kisses, and a quiet but undeniable devotion.

🎬 Scenario: A late-night drive, soft rain pattering on the windows, fingers intertwined on the gear shift. A long hug that turns into an even longer kiss.

♌️ Leo Mars | 5th House

Leo Mars brings a lot of passion and a little flair—they want it to feel like a scene from a romantic movie. They’re not afraid to shower you with attention, and every touch is meant to make you feel like you’re their one and only. It’s romantic, playful, and a little larger-than-life. Flamboyant, confident, lives for romantic tension.

1H – Fiery, passionate, unforgettable—sex is a performance. 2H – Slow but dominant—needs admiration to feel turned on. 3H – Dirty talk, mind games—aroused by praise. 4H – Wants deep emotional warmth—intimacy must feel special. 6H – Loves to please—perfectionist about satisfaction. 7H – Seeks a power couple dynamic—sex is an event. 8H – Dark, obsessive, intense—demands full surrender. 9H – Adventurous—thrives on bold, risky encounters. 10H – Career-driven, but behind closed doors? Dominant. 11H – Unpredictable, rebellious—hates routine. 12H – Secret exhibitionist—wants to be worshipped in private.

When They're Into You: They’ll show you off, give you their full attention, and make every moment feel like a scene out of a movie.

🎬 Scenario: Dancing in the kitchen at midnight, a spontaneous dip-and-kiss moment.

♍️ Virgo Mars | 6th House

They’re the type to pull you close and hold you in their sleep. Virgo Mars loves the little things—they pay attention to what makes you feel good and lean into it. Think soft whispers, gentle touches, and a quiet intensity that feels endlessly comforting. They want to make sure every detail is just right, creating an atmosphere where you feel secure and comfortable. Subtle but intense lovers.

1H – Skilled and meticulous—they study their partner’s needs. 2H – Slow, sensual, deeply focused on pleasure. 3H – A perfectionist in seduction—words turn them on. 4H – Needs to feel safe—intimacy is soft but deep. 5H – Picky, but once in, they’re completely devoted. 7H – Love must feel right—they take their time choosing. 8H – Secretly kinky—obsessed with the details. 9H – Needs stimulation beyond just the body—mental attraction is key. 10H – Controlled but intense—always leaves a mark. 11H – Detached yet secretly obsessive—choosy about partners. 12H – Deepest desires stay hidden—locked behind layers.

When They're Into You: They remember the little things—your favorite drink, how you like to be held. Their devotion is in the details.

🎬 Scenario: The smell of fresh linen, fingers tracing invisible patterns on your back, quiet mornings with sleepy kisses.

♎️ Libra Mars | 7th House

They’re all about creating that perfect balance—your legs draped over theirs, your head on their shoulder, while they run their fingers up and down your arm. They love to keep things harmonious, so expect gentle caresses, romantic eye contact, and sweet gestures. Everything about their touch feels like an invitation, one that pulls you in with grace and elegance. Passion needs to be equal.

1H – Seductive, charming—sex is an art. 2H – Luxurious lover—loves slow, indulgent pleasure. 3H – A master of words—flirting is their weapon. 4H – Needs emotional intimacy to fully open up. 5H – Passionate but elegant—loves the romantic build-up. 6H – Focused on mutual satisfaction—perfectionist about pleasure. 8H – Drawn to deep, soul-binding sex—intensity must be mutual. 9H – Adventurous, playful, enjoys new experiences. 10H – Magnetic, irresistible—sexual energy feels high status. 11H – Open-minded, experimental—loves exploring fantasies. 12H – Secretly craves total surrender—hidden depths of passion.

When They're Into You: Every touch feels like an invitation. They’ll take their time, making sure every glance and movement is perfectly timed for maximum effect.

🎬 Scenario: Champagne glasses clinking, slow dancing under fairy lights, the feeling of silk against skin.

♏️ Scorpio Mars | 8th House

Scorpio Mars craves intense connection—they want to merge with you on a soul-deep level. Think of a quiet room, whispered secrets, and an energy that’s both passionate and mysterious. They’ll hold you tightly, maybe pulling you even closer when you think they can’t. Every touch feels like a promise of something deeper. Your soul belongs to them.

1H – Dominant, intense, you’re theirs—seduction is psychological. 2H – Slow, possessive, stamina for days—sex must feel earned. 3H – Dirty talk that penetrates the soul—turns minds inside out. 4H – Emotionally binding—sex must feel like an unbreakable tie. 5H – Dark, passionate, hypnotic—lures lovers in like a trap. 6H – Extreme focus—makes sure their partner is wrecked. 7H – Drawn to power plays—obsessed with control. 9H – Sex must expand them—thrives on forbidden experiences. 10H – Uses sex as power—irresistible yet untouchable. 11H – Secretly taboo-loving—acts detached, but their mind is wild. 12H – A ticking time bomb—secret cravings they don’t admit.

When They're Into You: Their gaze alone will make you weak. They’ll pull you in with an unshakable magnetism.

🎬 Scenario: Low-lit rooms, the scent of leather and warm skin, a whispered “come here” before they pull you into their arms.

♐️ Sagittarius Mars | 9th House

Sagittarius Mars is playful, free-spirited, and loves exploring new ways to connect. Expect spontaneous, fun-loving energy—they want to keep things light, full of laughter, and open to discovery. They crave excitement and connection that feels genuine and unrestrained. They enjoy sex in different places, different cultures, with different rules.

1H – Unpredictable, playful, fast and wild—loves the chase. 2H – Sensual but restless—needs constant excitement. 3H – Flirty, teasing—words turn them on more than touch. 4H – Warm yet detached—loves deeply but won’t be trapped. 5H – Sex is a sport—playful, high-energy, always fun. 6H – Surprisingly attentive—a pleaser but in their own way. 7H – Loves a challenge—needs a partner who pushes back. 8H – Unapologetically blunt about desires—zero shame. 10H – Seduces through status—sex is a conquest. 11H – Open-minded, freaky, will try anything once. 12H – Secretly insatiable—needs spiritual connection but avoids it.

When They're Into You: They’ll keep things exciting, always finding an excuse to pull you into a new adventure—whether that’s a road trip or a stolen kiss under the stars.

🎬 Scenario: Barefoot runs through the sand, kissing on a Ferris wheel, the thrill of being caught in the rain together.

♑️ Capricorn Mars | 10th House

Capricorn Mars is grounded, sensual, and all about taking their time. They don’t rush; they want to make every touch meaningful. Whether it’s a light graze of their fingers or a lingering kiss on your forehead, they bring a steady, controlled passion that makes you feel safe and desired. Their biggest turn-on is power. Status = aphrodisiac.

1H – Controlled but feral underneath—dominant in a quiet way. 2H – Stamina of a god—slow, calculated, makes it last. 3H – Silent but deadly—lowkey filthy mind. 4H – Needs deep trust—sex is sacred and serious. 5H – Passionate but reserved—a beast once unleashed. 6H – Obsessed with perfecting their partner’s pleasure. 7H – Needs a serious partner—sex must be earned. 8H – Boundaries don’t exist—completely takes over. 9H – Loves breaking limits—challenges their partner sexually. 11H – Freaky but in private—secretly loves pushing societal limits. 12H – Kinky but no one knows—hidden dark cravings.

When They're Into You: They’ll take things slow, but when they decide they want you, you’ll know. Their energy is steady, confident, and all-consuming.

🎬 Scenario: A strong hand at the small of your back, lingering glances across a crowded room, a deep, grounding embrace after a long day.

♒️ Aquarius Mars | 11th House

They’ll surprise you with a sleepy, spontaneous kiss in bed, lips brushing against yours as they mumble sweet words you can barely make out. Aquarius Mars is quirky and unpredictable; they love keeping things fresh and new. Expect unconventional moves, a bit of playful teasing, and a level of comfort that lets you be yourself without judgment. They’re into experimentation and letting you see every unique side of them. In bed, they have no shame in trying everything.

1H – Unpredictable, experimental—thrives on shock factor. 2H – Detached but deeply physical—only commits when obsessed. 3H – Sexually rebellious—dirty talk + unexpected moves. 4H – Emotionally unpredictable—one day passionate, next day cold. 5H – Sex is an experiment—playful, no rules. 6H – Lowkey obsessive about perfecting pleasure. 7H – Attracted to strange or unconventional partners. 8H – Freaky but detached—doesn’t belong to anyone. 9H – Thrives on sexual freedom—hates being tied down. 10H – Secretly dominant—power and status fuel desire. 12H – Hidden fantasies no one expects—kinkier than they admit.

When They're Into You: They’ll surprise you, pulling you into spontaneous moments that feel thrillingly out of the ordinary. They want to keep things unpredictable.

🎬 Scenario: Kissing in the middle of a busy street, neon lights reflecting in their eyes, hushed conversations at 2 AM that turn into something more.

♓️ Pisces Mars | 12th House

They’ll pull you close in a hug, holding on just a bit longer than usual, as if they’re trying to melt into you. Pisces Mars brings a dreamy, otherworldly vibe—they want every touch to feel meaningful and almost ethereal. Expect soft whispers, lingering glances, and a vibe that feels like stepping into a fantasy. Their touch is gentle, tender, and makes you feel like the rest of the world has faded away. They can be the most intoxicating and unforgettable lover.

1H – Dreamy, hypnotic—sex feels like a different reality. 2H – Slow, sensual, almost trance-like—pleasure is an art. 3H – Seduction through soft whispers and teasing. 4H – Deeply emotional—sex must feel like melting into someone. 5H – Passionate but fluid—mood-based, needs the right vibe. 6H – Subtle but intensely giving—sensitive to every reaction. 7H – Needs romance and fantasy—love must feel like destiny. 8H – Seduction is spiritual—loses themselves in their partner. 9H – Drawn to taboo experiences—loves the unknown. 10H – Power is seductive—but they hide their intensity. 11H – Freaky but dreamy—sex is a fantasy come to life.

When They're Into You: They’ll make you feel like you’re in a dream. Their touch is soft, their gaze full of meaning, and their presence feels like a warm current pulling you under.

🎬 Scenario: A kiss in the rain, fingertips brushing like they’re painting poetry on your skin, lying together in a sea of blankets, lost in a world of your own.

[pedge-page]

Ok can I request something maybe out there. but sedation kink with doctor Joel. like I’m kind of into the idea of doctor/scientist prepping me for an exam or study and putting me under, reassuring and stroking my face because I’ve never been under anesthesia before and he wipes my few tears as I drift off. then he’s fondling me, putting my legs in stirrups, and observing my reactions to different stimuli like fingers, a brush, vibrator, mouth, putting cooling/tingly cream on my nipples/clit, etc., as I’m out and making notes and taking polaroids of my reactions like little twitches and noises, how wet I get, if my nipples react (if he can make me cum by just my nipples) edging me and im making little tired whines but eventually making me cum a few times while I’m out and he’s just watching what happens from down there and talking into his little mic that’s recording all this. then if I start to come to too early he tuts and asks if I want to stay under and I’m still out of it but drowsily say yes because I’m confused but feels good and he (safely) gives me some a little bit more of sedation just enough to keep me in that floaty place and starts fucking me so good that I actually come to while he’s inside and I fully come to as he’s removing the monitors and telling me how good I was for him and asking if it felt good and he’s giving me some water and kissing me telling me it’s okay to sleep because I’m still tired as he cleans me up so he can take us both home.

A Doctor’s Care

Doctor!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Nonny, you practically wrote this yourself. Please give yourself a massive pat on the back, because this was a fantastic idea. I've been foaming at the mouth about it for months (I'm so sorry It took so long!) Hope you're still around to read this!

Warnings : virgin!Reader, corrupt!doctor, corruption kink, sedation kink, non-con, oral, throat fucking, squirting, sex toys, nipple play, unprotected sex, kinda DDDNE-ish , groping, slight breeding kink, pussy pronouns, foot fetish, uhhhh please lmk if I'm missing anything

18+ ONLY

- - - -

“Now, you can start counting up to ten.”

You take a deep breath, trying you best to ignore the needle he had just inserted into your arm. “One, two, th-three, fooour, f-fi…”

He softly brushes your smoothed cheek, watching as your eyelids sag, the heavy lure of sleep washing over your entire body. Your muscles sink into the bed, eyes barely being able to close fully. You had never felt more relaxed. Up to this point, you were an axnious mess, but you knew you were in the good, trustworthy hands of Doctor Miller.

A stray tear wells up, threatening to spill. He smiles warmly and brushes it away for you. He doesn’t want to see you cry when you don’t even know why.

If you were a little more observant, you would have questioned why it was only Dr Miller moving forward with an anesthesia-induced operation. Typically there’s always more than one practitioner in the room. You would have wondered why nobody else was in the hospital at all.

 He told you he could make a special booking for your physical exam, just the two of you, to help alleviate any anxiety about the scary aura of a hospital, the sick people roaming around and watching, peeping in through the doors. He made sure you were the only one here today, to help you get comfortable and have nothing to worry about.

Of course, it is Sunday. Nobody operates on Sunday. The hospital was completely empty save for his office and this room.

Not only is this out of standard procedure, this was off the books.

This was illegal, and you had no idea.

“Dr. Miller, log 47,” he says into his little recorder. “Patient is sedated fully. Heartrate and breathing—“ he gently hovers his fingers rigor below your nose, his eyes scanning the beeping monitor next to you—“ normal and stable. Beginning examination.”

Maybe, if you were smart, you would have also questioned why you needed to be sedated for a basic physical exam. You didnt ask what a physical really entailed, which gave him the perfect excuse for... well. This.  

Joel had offered you some privacy before where he left his office to allow you to change your day clothing into the sterile gown. Such gentlemanly, professional attitude is tossed out the door as he doesn’t hesitate to unfasten the front, popping the buttons off one by one. He starts at your chest, exposing the silk smooth curve of your breasts. “Beautiful, healthy body,” he breathes. Every entimeter of your skin is observed closely. He continues, making his way down to your stomach, admiring your naval with his thick hand petting softly over your belly and unbuttoning down your hips. “I can already see excellent shape for reproduction, should she choose…”

He grins, now having you fully exposed to him under the bright light. Joel places his recorder in his chest pocket, leaving the mic on so he can continue to do his work with both steady hands.

“Fuck me,” he groans, the tent in his slacks already pressing against the cool metal table under you. He adjusts himself slightly, no concern for the perversion of his hard cock jutting out in the open as he brushes it against your legs and arms while circling you.

Dr. Miller was a practiced man. He'd lifted enough unconscious body parts throughout his career, being careful yet precise. It took him no time to hoist your legs into the cradled bend of the stirrups, spread wide and slightly elevated so that your core was exposed.

“Testing reactivity,” he says before pressing your feet with his thumbs. He massages your arch, feeling the tendons shift and resist. His lips ghost the ball of your foot. "Smooth here too. The skin of the feet haven't started callousing yet." Joel’s wet tongue glides along the crevice, thick and warm, before sucking on your toes, lubricating them with his tongue over and over again. He moans, closing his eyes and palming his bulge. You don’t seem to stir at all, but he does briefly catch the way your eyeballs shift underneath your lids, brows drawing then releasing.

He pushes the stirrups forward more, hands on the backs of your thighs until your knees are bent, as if ready to birth.

“Very healthy looking patient below the waist. I’ll need to taste more—test more before the insertion.”

Joel shifts along your side, and with no hesitation, grasps your tits roughly. He scrunches and squeezes tightly, pushing your nipples out until they’re hardened and swollen. He loves the way they feel in his big palms. It was last week when you let him do a breast exam, he was able to fondle them to his liking. He wanted to give them a taste then, but knew you weren’t ready for that.

Consciously, anyway.

A hot month descends upon your breast, and he glances up once again to see your reaction. He rolls your nip around and around before biting lightly. That receives a flinch. He smiles, sucking harder. They’re so warm and firm in his mouth, and he can’t help but suckle along them with fat suctioning sound each time he releases. “Very good potential for milk. Bet she’d make the sweetest milk.” He draws away, grabbing something from the table next to him. “Documenting …” he dabs some freezing cream directly onto your nipple and snaps a picture when your head jolts in surprise. Little sounds get lodged in your throat as he rubs it into your skin, kneading your mounds like dough. “Pretty thing…” he whispers seductively. 

He alternates between his hot mouth and the cold cream, watching your head toss slightly here and there. Your heartrate had also picked up, beeping a little more fervently. Nothing major, but a few beats per minute quicker than before. 

“We’re gonna stress her breathing next,” he sighs, moving up above your head. He feels your collar bone, working his hands up along your esophagus and underneath your neck. Pressing slightly to watch how much further your chest expands for air to ensure you’re still adjusting breath properly. 

Dr Miller unzips his trousers, his hard length falling free and slapping your forehead. He chuckles lazily, rolling it over and over, his tip nudging your nose and closed eyes. You’re so compliant like this. Not even a peep of protest as he nestles his balls overtop your sockets and pushes his head against your soft lips. 

“Seeing how well she can take …foreign objects…obstructing the jugluar.”

He presses in, your lips parting of their own accord to accomodate the intruder. “Ughhh,” he growls. His hands splay along the table, inching himself forward with a roll of his hips. Your jaw opens wider, forced to take the growing girth of his member. A strangled noise hiccups in your throat, and he immediately draws out. The monitor by your side beeps loudly before returning to a regular pace.

He aligns himself again and fucks your mouth, this time further than before until the mushroom tip is bulging in your throat.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhh,” he moans heavenly. He pulls out, lets you breathe, then forces it deeper.  Again and again until you’re taking him for five seconds at a time, deeper and deeper, the table rattling with his incessant humps. “Fuck..you take that, swallowing my cock like a princess, you take cock so good little slut.”

He thrusts in and out until he’s on the verge of cumming. Slipping his cock out the final time, he grips the base, growling to keep his orgasm down. He’d been thinking about it a long time, where he’d defile you last with his seed. As tempting as your tight throat was, he knew there was better ways to make you his confidential patient, forever and always. 

Your vital signs were steady again, although more elevated than you started. Your head twitched to the side slightly, eyeballs rolling under your eyelids. Your body can sense something is happening externally, but cannot rouse itself to intercept. 

He smiles, stroking your spit stained cheeks. “You’re doin’ very well, sweet pea.” its one of his favorite things about these types of exams. Watching how much a patient's instinct tries to fight his ministrations. Yet failing under the sedation and trusting senses of its owner.

For the next hour, Dr. Miller plays with your body. He’s inserted a bullet vibrator up your vaginal walls, controlling its speed and intensity on the little device. With each change in setting, your body reacted differently. Your hips bucked involuntarily, head swayed side to side. Hums of pleasure bubbled in your chest and out your nose, straining to make a coherent noise. He watched, spreading your folds so your little clit was perfectly on display. She throbbed, swelling to an engorged state. So vibrantly colored, filled with blood as he sets her nerves ablaze. 

He’d press his warm lips to her before patching it with a cubed ice. Your body didn’t like that, stomach tensing and knees wanting to lock. He had to get the stirrups tightened around your calves to keep you spread open for him. 

“That’s my girl,” he whispers quietly against your thigh, his plush lips ghosting the inside. He’s left his mic on recording, giving himself the freedom to savor your goosebumps for himself. 

Dr Miller circled around you again, viewing your exposed chest. Your nipples were stiff, and he makes note about how erect they’d become since starting your test. He presses his mouth there, his fingers dancing south to come in contact with your drooping pussy. He’s got a little cup underneath your butt, to capture any of your juices that might leak from his ministrations. For extra (taste) testing in the future.

With his mouth on your breast and three fingers rubbing your clit in clockwise motion, Joel suckles and fingers you with deadly precision.

 “Trying to make the patient—“ his tongue circles over your nipple thrice before nipping at your nipple, sucking it to a point—“reach climax.” 

He spanks your pussy, rewarding himself with a quiver from your body. “That’s it babygirl, you feel that?” He slaps it again, your body jolting, but his teeth sink further into the flesh of your boob to keep your chest in place.

He removes his hand entirely, focusing solely on sucking your tits. There’s a little device wedged inside you, not unlike the bullet vibrator, but this one can sense contractions. It connects to a monitor across the room, recording the pulses inside your pussy.

“That’s it—I see it—she’s working up to it—“ he sucks harder on your tits, swallowing his own saliva, eyes desperately strained to see your cunt reflected back on him on the TV and the matching pulses growing next to it.

The lines reach their heightened point, and your body wreathes appropriately as you cum. Your poor little cunny, contracting around nothing as you orgasm from his tongue on your breasts alone. 

“I want to see if I can just—“ he slips his hand back down to your pussy, diving three fingers in at once and rapidly squelching upward towards that gummy part inside. 

Suddenly, you let out an audible yelp, knees folding inward as liquid gushes from your opening. 

“Oohhhh yes, that’s a good girl, that’s a good girl!” He praises, smirking as you continue to squirt all over his palm and splash onto the floor. The fucking cup wouldn’t capture all of it, an he’d have to really clean up. But he wasn’t expecting such promising results. 

“She’s well hydrated for sure.”

By the way you shake your head, eyes starting to peep over, it doesn’t seem like you knew you could squirt either.

“Shhhh,” he hums, putting his palm over your eyes to block the light. “Rest now, you’re in good hands. Do you want to keep sleeping?” He glances over at the IV bag, already dripping another extra droplet into your system. “You’re so warm and safe here. Let’s rest a little more.”

You let out a sigh, eyes closed and nodding slightly before falling to the side, back into a deep state of unconsciousness.

How pathetic you can’t even tell your lower half is soaking wet of your own doing.

He makes his way back to stand between your legs, kicking away the little rolling stool. 

“See how well this pussy takes a real poundin.’” He pumps his shaft along your slick entrance, dabbing it repeatedly and grinning at how wet it sounds. He’d been edging himself this whole time. Not just this evening, but the entire few months he’s been you ever doting, caring, overly invested doctor, waiting to get you right here, spread out for him.

“She’s still so soft, so tight,” he gulps with a pant. Your chest was inflating up and down more quickly, so he knew you could feel something happening. “You’re doin’ great, baby. Just—just a little more—“

He notches the tip along your weeping hole. “She’s so patient for me.” He wonders if you’ll feel this in the morning when you wake.

Sliding in the first inch, Joel opens his jaw in silent prayer, head tilted back towards the ceiling. He pushes in again, feeling the first bit of resistance from your walls. Shit, he knew you were a virgin. You had marked it embarrassingly during one of the first appointments where he intimately needed to know all your sexual activities. You’d admitted having masturbated, which he encouraged as healthy, though the truth was so that he wouldn’t have to try too hard to stretch you out at this exact moment. Luckily he had loosened you up pretty well with his fingers and tongue this good hour, so when the good doctor pulls out then thrusts half his length in one go, you can’t offer any more rebellion to it.

When he finally bottoms out, he lets out a satisfied whimper. His cheek turned upright into a selfish, wicked grin. “Fuck, your pussy looks so good around my cock,” he says loudly, taunting the fact that you couldn’t retort even if you could hear him properly. He hasn’t had any relevant, professional notes to take for a long while now, instead resorting to little ‘fuckfuckfuck’s as he thrusts his hips in and out of your now loosened cunt. 

He reaches for the wand vibrator, switching it on and positioning it right at your clit, against the base of his dick. Its whirs to life, making your whole body contract in on itself.

“Auuggghhhh fuck yeah—fuck that’s it sweet girl—just feel that—feelin’ it so good.” He continues to fuck you open, biting his tongue and watching you shift with each rut into your unconscious body. Your eyelashes flutter, instinct fighting to get you awake. Jesus he wants it—wants you to wake up right fucking now, see what he’s doing to you. The way your eyes would float, confused, coming into focus as the trusted doc is battering your once pure insides in the name of your health. 

You didn’t know he’d already been fired and relocated from 6 different hospitals across the country for this exact reason. Granted, most anyone could report was inappropriate behavior and groping. He’d have his way with girls like you, in this exact position before. If anybody ever fully caught on to this, he’d be strung up in jail by now.

Whines bubble up from your chest as he gropes your tit with one hand, swirling the wand around your nub with the other. It takes a few minutes of on and off before he feels you clenching around him and cumming. Your back arches slightly, gasping through your mouth. He has to steady himself with his hands flat on either side of the observation table, hunched over and ramming into you while you’re still squeezing the fuck out of him. He likes the way your juices splash down his thighs and balls with each puncture. He’s a good doctor though, making sure you wouldn’t bleed or tear throughout this rough ordeal. He’s a proper man when it comes to his practice.

“Shit, shit—babydoll—fuckyeah this pussy—I’m not gonna be able to give this one up--“ He hums to himself, eyes shut.

You barely register the fact that you’re coming to. Your eyes are slitted but the tunnel vision is still so strong. Foggy and muffled, you can feel your body moving but can’t bring your muscles to do anything about it.

“D-J-oel,” you rasp, eyes fluttering close again as you definitely feel something deep within your stomach. You’re still so out of it, half your senses fading and drawing while being stimulated, unable to fully reach your brain. Your body is screaming to wake up though despite the tempting lull back to sleep. So you open your eyes again, rollin them around you. Your vision becomes clearer, still blurring but able to make outlines and lights now. Still in the hospital, still with the bright lights, still with Doctor Miller—

Doctor Miller, standing between your spread, naked legs with his wet, hard and long cock disappearing in and out of you. Doctor Miller, cursing and staring at where your bodies join, oblivious to your aroused state. Doctor Miller, telling you sweet words like how he’s gonna take you home, he’s gonna keep you like this till you’re full of him, then he's really gonna watch you grow, none of it really making coherent sense to you at the moment.

But there is that feeling inside, deep within your core that’s growing. Everything feels so wet and hot at the same time. He’s incessantly rubbing something delicious, electrocuting your nerves to an awakened state so far more than anything else.

You let out a strangled moan, and his head shoots up, watching you roll your neck and look around. Your sounds get louder, jaw flexing to let them loose.

He's been caught, and he doesn’t stop. “Fuck-fuck babygirl that’s it—M’takin real good care of ya—watch…watch me…watch me when ya cum—“ he groans, gripping your hips and slamming into you almost abusively. 

“Ah-ah-ah-ah!” You wail, unable to tear your limited vision away from him as he ruts like a dog in heat, his hips humping your ass. 

He lets out a startled bark, stilling inside you all the way. That makes your eyes fly wide open, more awake now than before as you start to cum around him. You don’t know what’s happening, don’t understand it and yet your body only knows pleasure, and that’s what your brain releases all over your insides and out. He’s so warm inside, filling you with something hot and sticky. 

There’s a thin sheen of sweat on you, and even greater on him. He pulls out, mummuring some  praise at your pearly, pulsing slit. Your heart is pounding, but body exhausted, like you’d been at this for a while now. You can’t move your head, and your eyes feel heavy once again.

“Hey, hey,” he coos softly next to you. He cups your face in his big hands, bringing you to look at him. “Hey there, angel. How we feeling? You did amazing.”

He feels gentle, touching your fuzzy spots all over again like honey. “Mmm,” you nod. 

He smiles, beginning to turn off the monitors and unhook you from the sensors. “Did such a great job for me, never had a patient as good as you.” He kisses your forehead, long and comforting. now with the needle out, you still feel drowsy, but with his reassuring words and touches, you don’t feel the need to get up any time soon.

“Here, drink this—“ he hands you a little platic cup of water with a straw. You take a few sips, suddenly feel a massive, near painful pressure in your throat, like something had been lodged there not long ago. Coughing slightly, you give him back the cup, falling back against the headrest.

“Shhh, it’s okay. No need to fight it. You can keep resting.” He kisses you on the lips, silencing any protest. Your brain still feels so floaty, you don’t even question the way his tongue swipes along your teeth. You don’t care, enjoying the way he’s treating you so well after the procedure. He makes you feel safer than ever.

“Gonna clean you up now. Take you home.”

Of course, you don’t think about it, as he makes you feel so at home now. You quickly fall back asleep. Joel wheels you out of the room, down towards his un-registered truck and into the back where he whisks you away to your very new, very permanent, very secluded "home." 

- - - -

Taglist:

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[divadepreshawn]

𝑨𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒏 𝑺𝒖𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓

Aaron Hotchner × fem!reader ×popstar

part two, …

reader is a very famous singer WC: 1 439

You were running, your heart racing, your lungs begging for a little more air – all you could offer now were quick breaths as your brain panicked. The screams echoing behind you made it hard for you to think straight, were they fans or paparazzi? It doesn't matter when you have to decide between running to your death or hiding.

All you wanted for that afternoon was coffee and a chocolate cake, you thought you could do it alone – how naive.

With nowhere to go you crossed the street without looking – getting run over didn't seem like such a bad option now – and entered the first store you saw. Looking around quickly your eyes landed on a man in the children's section – he was tall, wearing an impeccable suit, his expression was serious, but he was in the children's section so it couldn't be that bad. Without thinking twice you ran across the store until you stopped in front of him.

“Please, I need help.” You stood between him and the clothes rack, your eyes slightly wide and your breathing labored.

“What? Who is-?”

“Please, just stay still.” You grab him by the shoulders, positioning him so that his silhouette completely covers yours.

He opens his mouth to protest but quickly closes it as he analyzes you. You are panting, your hair disheveled, your hands shaking slightly and your body is tense. You really needed help. He stays in the position you put him in and doesn’t move a muscle.

The screams start to get quieter, your body relaxes and you release the breath you didn’t even know you had been holding.

“Thank you, you saved my life.”

He doesn’t answer right away, keeping his posture firm over you.

“Does this happen often?” he asked, keeping his voice low so as not to attract the attention of anyone in the store.

You let out a laugh, looking over his shoulder to see the store window, the street seemed calmer now.

“All the time, but it’s usually more controlled, I’ve never had to turn strangers into human shields” you pulled away, now looking at him properly for the first time, and damn, he’s handsome.

“You should walk around with some security, it doesn’t seem very safe to me to walk around alone.”

“I know, I have one, but I thought I could buy a damn coffee by myself.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not approving of the idea.

“Doesn’t seem like a very smart plan to me”

“Oh, you swear Sherlock?”

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curling up slightly.

“Was that supposed to be an insult?”

“Okay, you helped me and I’m being an idiot.”

You didn’t mean to be rude to him, you were just frustrated that you couldn’t do something as simple as buying an afternoon coffee without the place filling up with people.

Don’t project your frustration onto him, you think.

“Excuse me, what’s your name?”

He seemed to be considering whether it was worth sharing this information with you. You couldn’t judge, if the situation were the other way around you probably would have run away already.

“My name is Aaron.”

He’s crazy enough, apparently.

Aaron just stood there staring at you as if silently asking, what about you?

“Excuse me, don’t you know me?” you asked, genuinely confused.

“Should I?” he asked, his brow slightly furrowed.

You opened your mouth in surprise. What was natural for you – people knowing you, knowing your name, sometimes even what you had for breakfast – meant nothing to him. It was almost surreal.

“You really don’t know me?”

“No,” he crossed his arms, “But you don’t seem upset, so I don’t see the problem.”

“Are you kidding?” you laughed, “That’s refreshing.”

It wasn’t that you didn’t like being famous, on the contrary, you loved it. It took years of sacrifice to get where you are, training and training until exhaustion. But it’s times like these, when you try to do something simple – like buying a coffee by yourself – and you can’t, that fame shows its price.

“Really?”

He looked as confused as before, and as if it were possible, more handsome than he had been two seconds ago. Your gaze quickly dropped to his hand, he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. Would the universe be so kind to that extent?

What did you have to lose? You already had the no, now the only way was to go after the humiliation.

“Although it’s sad when a handsome man doesn’t recognize me.”

He blinked in surprise, his mouth opening and closing as if he didn’t know how to respond to that.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m kidding.” You reassure him, suppressing a smile. “I interrupted your shopping, I’m sorry about that.”

“No need to apologize, I still don’t know what I came to buy anyway.”

“You..don’t know?” you asked amused, he doesn’t seem like the type of person who just goes out to browse the stores.

He hesitates, his gaze shifting between you and the clothes on the rack.

“It’s okay, you just met me, you don’t need to tell me.”

“How much do you know about children?” The hesitation is still palpable in his voice.

“Um..I’m the older sister and I used to be a babysitter, so I guess that’s enough.” You answer confused, trying to remember “Why?”

“I need a gift for my son to take to a party, but I have no idea what to get him,” he confesses, sounding frustrated.

This man just got a thousand times more handsome. Okay, focus.

“How old is he going to be?” You ask, already scanning the clothes around you.

“Seven.”

“Okay, let’s pick out some neutral clothes. Do you mind if I keep this on?” You point to the hoodie and sunglasses.

“No, it’s okay, I don’t want to attract a horde of zombies.”

“Are you trying to badmouth my beloved fans?” You feign an offended expression. They can be scary when they want to be, but you won’t admit it out loud.

“Me? Never. Although I wasn’t the one running away from them a few minutes ago.”

You cross your arms, feigning indignation, but the amused gleam in your eyes gives you away.

“Are you a career management expert now? Next time I’ll let forty people run after you and we’ll see what your first reaction will be.”

“Touché,” he laughs, raising his hands in surrender.

You grab your phone, remembering to tell your security guard where you are and asking him to come pick you up in twenty minutes.

“What do you work with?” You look away from your phone and look at him.

“What?”

He looks at you with a look that says, seriously?

“You’re famous, right? So what do you do?”

“Oh yeah, I’m a singer,” you reply with a smile.

“Have you ever won a Grammy?” He asks, his tone not arrogant, but curious.

“Honestly, I think the legacy that remains counts more, but yes, i have Grammy' s.”

“Grammy' s? Like, more than one?”

You smile at him.

“You really have no idea who I am, do you?” You let out a dramatic sigh. “I already thought you were handsome, you don’t need to convince me.”

He stops laughing, looking disconcerted.

God can’t blame a woman for trying.

“I think this outfit here is nice.”

You change the subject quickly, not that you didn’t want to blatantly hit on him for the rest of the day – something you could easily do – but he seemed so disconcerted by your advances that you didn’t want to be inconvenient.

“Yeah, this one looks nice.” He picks up the outfit, examining it.

Chris – your security guard – enters the store looking for you. Man, I need to give him a raise, you thought.

Quickly looking over the counter, grabbing your store card and a pen, you write down your personal number and hand it to Aaron.

“You saved me today, if you need someone to pay your bail, I’ll be that guy. Of course, it will depend on the reason you were arrested, I still have my ethics.” You smile “If you want tickets to a show I think it’s easier to get, thanks anyway.”

He takes the card and puts it in the inside pocket of his suit.

“I don’t plan on getting arrested, but I appreciate the offer.”

Halfway there you turn to him again.

“Aaron?”

“Yes?”

“I’m serious, text me, I’d love to meet you again.”

You head back to Chris, leaving a stunned Aaron behind.

No one can say you didn’t try.

And God, for the next few days you and your phone would be one body.

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

English is not my first language are sorry for any mistake

This will probably become a mini series

If you have any ideas to contribute to the sequel I will be happy to receive them :)

[rinhaler]

step cest, virginity loss and non con with toji pretty please? :3

the contrast between the content ur asking for and then the innocent little :3 face is sending me btw 😩 but u said pretty please so u shall receive!

warnings: 18+ MDNI, noncon, virginity loss, fem!reader, step cest, daddy kink, ddlg, step daddy!toji, no prep, cream pie, dacryphilia, praise, pet names.

words: 1.4k

It’s too much for him.

Seeing how beautiful you’ve grown up to be. You’re so smart and kind, too. He feels like he’s losing you each and every day that he drops you off outside of your university building. He’ll never tire of hearing you express how proud of yourself you are to be the first in your family to get accepted.

But he’s starting to notice a change in you.

You’re wearing more makeup and spritzing more expensive perfume. Your tops are getting lower and your skirts are getting shorter. He notices it all because you’re in such close proximity to him whenever he gives you a ride to your classes. Your scent almost luring him into the deepest depths he can sink. Your naked thighs jiggling in the passenger seat practically begging him to push them apart so he can bare witness to your needy virgin cunt.

And he knows you’re still a virgin.

He hears the phone calls you have with your new friends while you pace back and forth in your bedroom talking about which guys in the class you think are cute. All the while he’s willing himself not to give in to his basic instinct and shove a hand down his pants and jerk himself off to the way you describe what you think sex might be like.

You’re adorably naïve.

You’ve convinced yourself it won’t hurt as badly as everyone says it will. Of course that could be the case if you were to fuck one of the pencil-dicked losers in your class. But it would be different with him. Your first time should be with him.

That’s what he tells himself when he sneaks into your room in the early hours of the morning. He knows you have an 8am class, but you’re such a good girl he’s sure you won’t mind. Hell, he’ll even let you skip it if you behave yourself.

He riled himself up too much thinking about what a fucking travesty it would be if you let some frat boy sully your insides. It can’t happen, it won’t happen. He muses to himself as he sits on the edge of your bed.

Your body slowly reacts to his presence as you blink away at the bleary filter in your eyes. You stiffen slightly when you realise you aren’t alone. When you see a shadowy figure looking down at you, every worst case scenario runs through your head in an instant.

“S’just me, darlin’.” he tells you, your vision comes into focus when you hear the all too familiar voice of your daddy. His hand holds your thigh, soothing you with a simple circling thumb.

“You scared me, daddy…” you sigh, getting comfortable in bed once again. You’re losing the battle against sleep, your eyelids feel heavy as you try to continually fight away the exhaustion. If daddy is here, it must be important, after all.

He’ll keep you safe, though.

You know there’s nothing to worry about with your daddy around.

“Need you to stay still ‘n be quiet for me, yeah? Can you do that?” he whispers. You barely register the sound of fabric being moved as you try and find his eyes in the sea of darkness. You, nod though, immediately proving what a good little girl you are for your daddy.

You feel a chill as he pulls your duvet away from your barely clothed body. It’s like you knew he’d be paying you a visit tonight. He can’t quite see, but wastes no time hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts.

“Oh, d-daddy?” you speak, quietly squirming a little as he slowly pulls them.

“Thought you were going to be quiet for me, hm?” he reminds you, a gruff tone to his soothing voice. “Be a good girl for daddy, yeah? Let this happen…”

You gulp, nervously, your body freezing at his words as you realise what’s going on. He yanks your shorts away and throws them over his shoulder, you bare cunt on display is making you consider maybe being with your daddy isn’t so safe.

Maybe your daddy doesn’t always have your best interests at heart.

There’s a clacking sound you can’t place. It’s filling the room along with daddy’s groaning. You flinch as you feel the mattress spring back into place before sinking deeper than it had before. Your body is trapped beneath his and you can’t stop yourself from crying. This isn’t how you imagined your first time, this isn’t how you would have imagined any time.

But you’re paralysed.

You’re powerless.

“D-Daddy… I don’t— I don’t… like… this…” you tell him, still unable to stop your tears from falling. You gasp as he effortlessly covers the lower half of your face with the palm of his hand.

You work out the source of that unrelenting clacking sound as he towers above you, furiously touching himself as he prepares to enter your tight heat.

“Of course ya do, sweetheart.” he kisses your forehead repeatedly as he rubs his heavy tip against your virgin slot. You cry into his hand as he begins to push into you at a snails pace. He’d never do anything to intentionally hurt his baby girl. But this is something he can’t control. “This is what little girls like you are made for. Makin’ their daddies feel so good.” he continues.

His emerald eyes are the only thing you can see in the dark abyss of your room. It’s terrifying, how the eyes you had trusted more than anyone else’s are making you want to scream out in fear.

He feels your tears and saliva dampen his hand as he bullies his cock into you. If he had any sort of conscience, he’s sure he’d feel guilty for not even having the decency to prepare you first. But you’re so fucking tight like this. Taking him like such a good girl, swallowing him whole and squeezing around him like he belongs to you.

And besides, no amount of preparation would have readied you for how well-endowed he is.

He rocks his hips into yours again and again, your screams turn to muffled moans beneath his heavy palm as his tip finds it’s sanctuary against your sweet spot. It hurts, fuck, he’s monstrously big and it fucking hurts.

You try to talk to him, words he’ll never understand as his hand stifles you. He isn’t sure if it’s wise to move it. Will you scream and cause a fuss? It’s a big risk. But you’ve always been a good girl. His good girl. So he slowly peels his hand away, your whimpering moans slowly creeping up your airways and running rampant through his perverse mind.

“’m made… made for you? For daddy?” you whisper. He smiles, smothering your voice with an incestuous kiss that neither of you seem to mind. “B-But it hurts, daddy! O-Ow, daddy’s too big for me!” you cry out, a little louder than you’d intended and certainly louder than Toji wanted. He covers your mouth once more, his brutal pace kicking into high gear as he slams his whole weight behind his thrusts.

“Good fuckin’ girl, baby.” he praises you, admiring how your eyes roll over white and your consciousness leaves your body and he pummels everything he has into you. “No one can know about this, got it? You can’t do this with anyone else either. Wan’ you t’be daddy’s special girl… f-forever.” he speaks, hips speech failing as he begins to reach his peak.

He hadn’t expected you to tighten around him, either. He’s gifted you with your first orgasm and your pussy hugging ‘n squeezing around him forces him to reject any concept of pulling out. You have him trapped inside of your previously untainted walls. Thick, white cum coats your insides and he collapses on you as he finishes.

His grunts continue to fill the room. Though they sound like they’re only meant for you to hear as he levels his mouth with your ear. You turn to face him, those familiar green eyes feel so safe again as he looks at you. Like you can trust him with anything. You could tell him any secret and he’d take it to the grave.

But you know better, now.

You know what you are to him.

“W-Why did you do that, daddy?” you ask him, your voice so timid and subdued. You always talk so sweetly to your daddy. He thinks if you didn’t want that, you would be picking a fight with him. You’d be screaming and crying and demanding an explanation. But you’re too sweet for that. You’re too much of a good girl for daddy to do any of that.

“… Because good little girls always let their daddy cum in them first.”

© 2023 rinitxshi

[playthingsforpeanut]

One Night Repair

A/N: Hey so I've had this idea of !WorstWolverine meeting someone at a bar and having really aggressive sex to blow off steam... it gets pretty cute at the end in my opinion so I hope you like it. Takes place post time ripper.

Pairing: Worst!Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: You meet Logan at a bar, and he ends up wrecking your apartment. You'd usually object in the morning but... he had something else in mind.

Content Warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, p in v, creampie, fingering (fem! receiving), light choking, multiple orgasms, oral (f + m receiving), literally words of pure nasty smut, idk I'm h*rny, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n. porn & somewhat plot (in between the lines), actually y’all i apologize this is just pure smut i think, rough sex, overstimulation, slapping, pussy slapping, tiny hint of arousal from crying, Praise kink, Pet names (hun, baby, doll, sweetheart, darlin’, angel, honey, bunny), Squirting, Body worship, slight use of restraints, Dom x Brat... If I missed anything please tell me.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

The evening dragged on like any other. Another late night shift, another bar full of drunk bastards. You like that the owner would let you wear what you wanted to work, and tonight, you opted for a simple black tank top and black workout leggings. They hugged your curves well enough to get decent tips but didn't expose you enough to get groped by strangers, not that any of these bastards were smart enough to not touch you like that.

Most of the evening was normal, your regulars ordered their usuals, and you kept up your friendly facade as you worked.

Unfortunately for one patron, he decided to grab you as you leaned over the table to deliver his group's next round of drinks, earning a concerned brow raise from Logan, who was sitting at the bar. You had tried making small talk when he ordered his drinks from you, but he preferred to stay quiet. You shrugged it off as him not wanting company and carried on with your orders.

"Excuse you, I am not on the menu." You bitch rather loudly, grabbing his hand and pinning it to the table with a rather quick motion. Tonight was not the night to fuck with you. You were itching for a fight, but not enough that you'd be willing to lose your job.

"Ey, ey easy sweetheart! Just trying to have a good time!" He groaned, pulling his hand free from the pressure grip.

"You're done." You said calmly, "You leave your money and you get the hell outta here." You release his arm, and saunter your way back to behind the bar, cursing to yourself under your breath.

"Nice technique," Logan speaks up. "But next time you should break his wrist." He takes a swig from his beer.

You turn your head from the drink you were mixing to look him over. You toss him a half smile. "You wanna be next?"

He chuffs. "Tempting."

You roll your eyes and serve the mixed drink, moving on to cleaning some stacked-up glasses. He eyes you out of the corner of his, nursing his beer. He noticed how your attitude had changed, your responses to the patrons weren't nearly as friendly as they were when he arrived.

Closing time finally rolled around, and Logan couldn't help but wait outside with a cigar in his mouth. You cleaned up the bar, and as you locked up, you spotted the tall stranger leaning nearby.

"You lurking?" You put your hands in your jacket pockets as you turn to confront the stranger.

"Walkin'" He said. "Thought you'd want an escort." He puts out his cigar on the cold brick wall, also putting his hands in his pockets.

"I can handle myself." You scoff.

"Heh, Yeah, I saw that," He admitted, stepping a bit closer. "But I didn't like how that guy eyed the alley on his way out."

You roll your eyes, shake your head, and begin walking toward your apartment, which is only a few blocks away.

He followed from a safe distance, but not too far so he could still be there if something happened to you.

"I don't need a bodyguard." You call over your shoulder.

"I know. I'm walkin' home too." He replied with a smirk.

You roll your eyes and continue your path home. He continued behind you, just a few steps away. You stop at a traffic light, and he stops next to you.

"I never caught your name..." You say looking up toward him.

He smirks and faces you. You can't help the way your eyes dilate as you take in his features. He was handsome, in a rugged way. Something about him made you want to climb him like a tree but, you weren't that easy... were you?

"It's Logan." You hum a response and turn to face the pedestrian light that changed to allow you to walk. He followed a bit closer now, but making sure to read your body language to make sure he wasn't making you too uncomfortable.

"Why did you really follow me home? Hmm? looking for somewhere to crash?" You decide to at least make some small talk.

"Like I said, thought you'd want an escort." His replies were brief, which was relatively aggravating. Thankfully your apartment complex was only a few feet away.

"And like I said, I can handle myself." You toss back. You twirl quickly to meet his gaze, causing him to stop abruptly. "So thank you but no thank you, you can fuck off now, Logan"

His eyes darkened as you cussed at him. His brow raised at your boldness. His lips were inches from yours, and his breath fanned over your flushed cheeks.

"Say that again." He growled.

"Say what?" You stood your ground, not allowing your body to falter. You kept a strong stance, eyes fixed on his. "Logan?" You smirked, enjoying how worked up he seemed.

He pressed closer, pushing you against the door to your apartment. You sucked in a breath at the forced proximity, your eyes glancing at his lips briefly.

Logan loved how defiant you were. He would've left you alone at the door had you not whipped around on him and sassed him like that.

"Say the word, and I'll walk away," He leaned in closer, his large, muscular arm bracing his tall frame against your door.

Your legs rubbed together to soothe the newfound ache between your thighs. 'Fuck it...' you thought. If he was gonna tax your time and patience after a shit night, the least he could do for you is be a good lay.

You arched your back into him, allowing your lips to connect in a rough, passionate kiss. His teeth graze your bottom lip, his tongue following suit, as he attacks you. His free hand meets your waist, pinning you to the door. You can’t help the soft whimper from escaping you, as his hand slides down your thigh and pulls your knee up to his waist.

He moves down and sinks his teeth on the sensitive spot on your neck, pulling a sharp gasp from your lips. Your hands move to his neck, holding on for some kind of grounding. You open your eyes, coming down and realizing you are still in the hallway. “Fuck…” you groan.

“Such a dirty little mouth…” Logan growled into your neck. He took a moment to catch his breath.

A shiver ran down your spine, and your hips buck involuntarily. Logan smiles against your flushed skin. “Oh… You like that?” He purred.

God, you hated this guy. He is so cocky but he’s so fucking attractive you can’t help but want him. “Oh shut up…” You groan.

“Do you not want me, pretty girl?” He cooed.

You don’t reply. You do want him, but you couldn’t let the smug bastard have that satisfaction. He leans back to meet your hazy gaze. He licks his lips at the sight of your swollen lips, and at that, you find yourself turning around to unlock your apartment door.

Logan removes his arm from the door and watches as you go inside. He’s more respectful than you thought. He actually fucking waited for you to invite him inside. You look at him, half exasperated at his cockiness, and half desperate for him to come in. You stand there holding the door open.

“May I come in?” He asks with a sly smile, leaning against the door frame.

You roll your eyes and grab him by the jacket, pulling him inside. “Oh Fuck you.” Your lips crash into his as he enters your apartment. The door shuts behind him, and his hands immediately find your hips. He growls and harshly pushes you against the wall. You thought you were just crazy, but he threw you against that wall so hard, he dented your wall.

“Filthy fucking mouth…” He growled between the fight of your lips and teeth. His words pull a moan from you, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist. Logan’s hands grip your thighs firmly. You whimper when you feel his very hard cock pressing against his jeans into your core.

You tug off his jacket and throw it aggressively to the floor. Logan’s hands wander to your tank top, making quick work of removing it. His hands roam your body, almost as if in silent worship.

“Fuck…” You groan. You lean forward and bite his neck hard, causing Logan to buck his hips and punch the wall. A growl ripped from his throat as he gripped your hips and ground into your core, pulling another needy whine from your throat.

“You want this?” He growled, grinding into your core again. “You fucking want me to fuck you pretty girl?” He bites your neck back pulling another moan from your lips.

“Mmh fuck you… fucking asshole.” You whine. You grab his shirt and pull it off, ripping some of the threads as you do. He allows it, before his hand wraps around your throat, holding your head against the wall, squeezing hard enough for you to get a slight high from the pressure.

“I’m gonna fuck that attitude right out of you, dirty girl. The only curses you’re gonna make are pleas to god.” Your eyes meet his, and you bite your bottom lip.

“Is that a promise?” You grind your hips against him again, a fierce need building quickly, Logan growls again.

“Needy fucking thing…” He curses to himself. He spots the couch in the dim room and throws you on it. “Take ‘em off.” Logan orders. You bite your lip as you watch him remove his belt expertly. He starts to wrap the belt into a figure 8. “Now.” His eyes flicked from your pants to your eyes.

Defiance shone in your eyes. “Make me.” You smile devilishly, crossing your arms. Logan let out an annoyed huff, and yanked your legs to him, spreading you wide. He started to kiss you passionately again, and just as you thought you got away with it, Logan raised his hand and slapped your heated core.

The sound that escapes your lips is a mixture of pleasure and pain. “What the hell?!” You whimper. Logan’s eyes are dark.

“I said, take, em’, off.” His voice left no room for discussion. You stare at him as your thumbs hook the waist of your pants, and slowly pull them down, exposing your soaked undergarments. The scent of you filled Logan’s nose. He let out a low growl. “Good girl.” His hand glides up your thigh feeling how wet you were. “Mmh look at you. Already soaking wet for me. Such a pretty little fucking thing.”

Goosebumps rose over your body, his words sending shivers throughout your body. Or was it his hands? Where one hand was grazing your cunt gently, the other was pulling on your hair slightly as he held himself up over you. He grabs your hands and pins them over your head. He slides his belt over your wrists, tightening it.

He places rough kisses down your body, biting here and there. He hovered over your cunt, releasing a hot breath over it, making you arch your back and whine. Logan smirked. “Mmh look at you, so wet for me.” He hooks his arms around your thighs, holding them open for him. He inhales and runs his tongue up the length of your cunt, over your soaked panties.

A moan escapes your lips, your hips bucking from the contact. “Now are you gonna be a good girl and do as I say?” He licks his lips.

“Maybe” you reply.

Logan grunts and leans forward. You cry out as a sharp pain emits from your cunt, where Logan just bit through your garment.

“Rule one.” He looks into your eyes from his position between your thighs. “You do as I say. You be a good girl, and you get pleasure. You be bad?” He licks over the sensitive spot he just bit. “And you get pain. Understand?” He holds eye contact, waiting for an answer.

“Yes…” You say through a breathy moan.

“Yes, what?” He grazes his thumb over your trembling lower half.

“Yes… sir.” You bite your lip and gaze at him through hooded lids.

“Good girl.” He smiles and pulls your underwear down your thighs. You whimper as the cool air of your apartment meets your aching core, and Logan watches as you clamp around nothing. “Such a needy little thing, I’ve barely even touched you and you’re already aching for me.” He smirks and lazily strokes your inner thigh, avoiding all the best spots on purpose. You groan in frustration.

"Ah ah ah... patience counts toward you being good, you want to be good for me don't you kitten?" He rubs his thumb over your clit, pulling another stuttering gasp from your lips.

"Y-yes s-sir." You whisper. He smirks and glides his tongue up the length of your cunt, flicking your clit gently with each stroke. A silent praise for your good behavior. You moan as he laps up your pussy, acting like a man starved. You instinctively roll your hips, but Logan keeps them firmly planted under his arms. His thick biceps hold you down with ease.

You begin to feel that familiar ache in your lower belly, as he draws little circles with the tip of his tongue around that sensitive little bundle of nerves. He adjusts his arms, one placed over your lap and the other begins teasing your entrance. He slides his middle finger in and groans at how you squeeze him.

"Fuck..." He growled between laps. "So tight..." He can only imagine the feeling of sheathing himself inside you later. He knew he needed to work you up to that though. So after a few soft thrusts, Logan slides his ring finger in, pulling a desperate moan from your lips. He curls his fingers expertly till he finds the spongey sensitive spot in your core. You arch your back as he finds it. "There it is..." He moans. He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks hard while offering soft flicks of his tongue for relief. He feels your walls quaking around his fingers. He knows you're close.

"FUCK!" You moan out. Logan's merciless attack on your most sensitive spots sends you barrelling toward your climax so fast it's dizzying. Your moans grew louder and more desperate as he continued his attack.

"You wanna cum baby?" He growled, his words muffled. "Ask me, baby, nicely, and I'll let you."

"Fuck you!" You cry, your body hot and writhing. Logan bit down on your clit again, pulling a pained wail from your lips.

"I said behave pretty girl. That's the only way you're gonna get what you want." He thrust a third finger in aggressively.

You moan louder at the intrusion, digging your nails into your palms. "Fuck! P-Please.. pleaseeee..." You whine, your body so close to its release.

"Please what?" He lifts his head off your cunt for a moment to hear you better.

"Please.. please can I cum? Please Logan I want to.. I need to cum...." You whine. The need to finish overwhelming your iron will. Logan, now satisfied with your pleas, lowers his head and continues to flick your clit with his tongue, pulling the most pathetic little sounds from your lips. Your walls flutter around his probing digits.

“That’s right baby,” he cooed “let go for me…” your toes curled at his words. The final push your body needed to release a cry of his name, followed by a mumbled jumble of curses. He smirks and laps up the excess fluids spewing from your body as he relishes in the mess he’s making of you. His fingers slow, and he raises to place a hard kiss on your lips. He trails down to your jaw, giving your clit soft circles with his thumbs as he helps you ride it out. “Goooood girl…” he moans into your neck.

You whimper as he removes his hand from your cunt. He uses his free hand to grip the back of your head and pull it back slightly, earning another gasp of pleasurable pain from your lips. “Open,” he growls.

You whimper and look into his eyes for a moment, unsure what he meant. He furrows his brow and pulls your hair a bit tighter. “Open your mouth, pretty girl.” He says again. You whimper but slowly open your mouth for him. He slides his fingers into your mouth and you suck them clean. He grins, releasing a breathy groan as he watches you greedily suck on his fingers.

"Atta girl, atta girl..." He smiles and pulls his hand away, replacing his fingers with his lips and tongue. You moan as he wraps his arms around your waist. He lifts you off the couch to your feet. He places you down on your feet. "Can you walk?" He says in a low growl.

"You think I can't?" You reply sarcastically, catching your breath. He chuckles and removes the restraints in your hands.

"So feisty." His eyes graze over your face, which was defiantly looking back at him. You smile and bite your lip, as a wicked idea crosses your mind. This fucking man just made you a whimpering mess and you intended to do the same to him. Before he catches on, you turn and shove him onto the couch. "Hey wait-" You grab him through his jeans and smile up at him from your knees.

"What? Do I have to ask for permission to suck your cock too?" You smirk. He smiles and chuckles to himself.

"I suppose not." He unbuttons his jeans and you help him pull them off. You suck in a short breath when you spot how big he is. You run your hand over his bulge and hook your fingers in the waistband. You expose his member, as it springs free with a loud *thwack* against his toned abdomen. You bite your lip at the sight. You inhale deeply and grip him firmly, bringing him to your lips. You lick up the length of him, flicking the tip that's dribbling with pre cum. He lets out a breath of relief and lounges his arms across the back of the couch.

'The smug bastard' you thought. You'd be lying if you said you hated how he immediately took control of you, but now was time for your revenge. You look in his length, allowing him to slip into the back of your throat with ease. You smile at the buck of his hips, and glide your teeth back up his shaft, earning a hiss. He looked down at you with a glare, and you simply smiled at him innocently. You wrap your lips around the tip and suck while pumping his shaft with your fist. You work him slowly at first, enjoying how he groans at your touch.

Now that you've got him, you start bobbing your head on his cock. The sound of his dick hitting the back of your throat, paired with his groans fill the room. When his moans get particularly loud you graze your teeth along his shaft once more. He growls and grabs your hair at the base of your head.

"Behave..." He warns. You smile innocently again.

"I am behaving." You tease

"Little fuckin' brat..." He mumbles.

Your mouth is replaced with your fist, however, you're quick to occupy your mouth. You dip your head between his legs, holding his glistening cock so it's pressed against his belly as you press your wet tongue onto his balls. He bucks his hips and groans, tugging at your hair.

The sounds he makes above you are downright filthy, deep moans and filthy praise that have you moving faster. The lewd sounds of your actions fill the room along with the rising sounds escaping Logan's lips. His moans are deeper, harsher, and you can feel his pulse through his cock. He's close. You work him perfectly, syncing your bobbing head with your hands, stroking and massaging.

"F- Fuck!" He growls. He bucks his hips up while grabbing your head and holding you in place. "Stay still, stay right fuckin' t-there." He strains. With another flick of your tongue, he unloads into your mouth. You drink him greedily and smile. The sweat dripping down the side of his face was enough for you to know he was spent.

When his grip on your head loosens, you smirk and graze your teeth along his shaft once more. The smirk on your face is quickly wiped away when Logan hisses and grabs your head again.

"I told you to behave." He growled. "And look at you, all smug because you think after one little orgasm I'm done with you?" He catches his breath and unsheathes a claw. "Little do you know brat, I'm just getting started with you." He cuts the center of your bra off with his claw, and grabs your now exposed breast aggressively. You bite your lip to hide the moan that threatened to erupt. Fuck, this guy was hot.

He pulls your head closer to his, causing you to crawl up the couch over him. "Get. In. Your. Bed." He growled in your face. His eyes demanded you take him to your room, so he could finish what you both started.

Oh but you, ever the defiant one. "You don't wanna take me here? on this couch?" You talk-back.

"You deserve to be properly bedded, even if you are a little brat." He pulls you in for another kiss. He nibbles on your lip and rubs your head, worried he may have hurt you the last time he tugged. You smile, pull off of him, and lead him to your bedroom.

The sounds of your footsteps fill your ears as you try to keep yourself together because fuck, he can't know how goddamn turned on you were at his words. Or rather, everything about him. Once Logan knew which room you were taking him in, he picked you up and threw you onto your own bed, earning a soft yelp from you.

Logan strokes his cock as he gazes over you, laying helplessly in the bed. "Look at you... so fuckin' pretty. I hope you don't have to work tomorrow..." he smirks, pulling you to the edge of the bed.

"Why is that?" You say, raising your arms to cover your exposed breasts.

"Because..." He grabs your arms and pins them above your head. He leans in, where he's mere inches from your lips. "You won't be able to walk in the morning." He leans down and crashes his lips onto yours. You feel him grind against your core, still slick from his previous actions. You buck your hips as he grinds over your sensitive clit. "So sensitive.." He works his way down to your neck and bites down hard as he sheathes himself.

"Fuck! Fuck, Logan I didn't do anything what was that for?" You cry out. He chuckles and licks the spot he bit.

"You tried to hide your body from me... You broke rule 2." He purrs.

"You never said there was a second rule..." You whimper. Logan smirks.

"Didn't I?" He smirks, and thrusts harshly into you once more, pulling yet another loud moan from your lips.

"FUCK! Gods I fucking hate you... You cocky bastard..." You groan. Logan's smirk returns.

"Don't worry pretty girl, if you're good, I'll be gentle." He teases with a slow thrust.

"And what if I don't want you to be gentle?" You challenge.

"Mmmm that can be arranged. I can make a rule you'll keep breaking. Over and over and over." He pumps again, slowly.

"And what rule might that be?" You arch your body into him, gaining some more friction than he was currently giving.

"Rule 3. No cussing. Not for you, brat." He smiles, giving you a knowing look. You whimper at the new rule, knowing he's got you pinned.

"You don't fuckin mean that..." You whine.

Without hesitation, Logan takes one breast in his mouth and pinches the other between his fingers, earning a sharp cry from you. "Oh I assure you brat, I do." He smiles and licks the abused nipple. "Now, be a good girl and hold onto something."

Logan grips the backs of your thighs and raises your legs high in the air. He slides his hands down and grips your waist. He pistons into you mercilessly, and your moans fill the apartment.

He grunts. “So tight,” he praises. “Fucking perfect little cunt...” He pumps in and out of you harder, faster now, letting himself go.

Your hopeless little whines drive him further. "Fuck.. Logan..." You whimper. Logan raises his hand and slaps your face. Not too hard as to hurt you, but enough to register as punishment for breaking a rule.

He twitches inside you when you moan louder at the slap, and your walls flutter around him. His lips find yours again, biting, kissing you bruisingly. You struggle to keep your mouth shut, as it seems to have formed a more permanent 'O' shape as he fucks you relentlessly.

Your walls contract around him, squeezing him as he sinks deeper inside you, hitting exactly where you need him most. You’re so close, ready to come undone. “Fuck, L-logan,” you whine as he pounds into you. “I’m gonna—” He cuts you off with another slap. You whimper and he leans down to kiss your red cheek.

He feels you contract around him, and he growls. "Come on brat, cum for me. You can do it." You can feel his pace growing faster, his cock pushing deeper, stretching you out as he plunges into you. “You feel so fucking good,” he groans, kissing your pulse point again. “So fucking beautiful.” 

It’s all too much, him, his cock, his words. Your skin is on fire, and the friction is absolutely delicious. You’re already so close, just a few steps away from the ledge, and you’re ready to fall. Your pathetic little "uh uh uh's" meld into soft "fu- fu-fuck's" and Logan wraps his hand around your throat.

That move alone sends you careening over the ledge. You scream out his name as he grips the pressure points in your neck making you see stars. Your heavy pants turn to squeaks as you slowly come down from your high.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “So fucking tight, so fucking sensitive.” His praises are muffled in your ears, the blood roaring over anything else. He slows his pace a bit, allowing you a moment to come down. He rubs your quivering legs, humming soft praises.

Liquid pooled from between your thighs. It took him a moment before he realized you came so hard, that you squirted all over him. He stared at the sight. Your cheeks flush red at the realization of what you have done.

“Did you just-“ Logan whispers, a soft smirk on his lips.

"I am so sorry... I-" Logan cut you off with a rough kiss.

"Don't you dare apologize." He stared into your eyes intently. A new gleam of excitement entered his features. "Think you could do it again?" He chuckled darkly.

“I didn’t know I could do it in the first place…” You whisper softly, trying to steady your breathing. Logan slams into you with that confession, burring his head in the crook of your neck.

“Fuck…” he growled. His chest swelled with pride at the admission. Knowing he was taking you further than you ever had been before was entirely too intoxicating for him. He bit down on your neck, pulling more pathetic little sounds from you. He lifted off of you just enough, so that he could shove your legs down, practically folding you in half.

He resumed his brutal pace, watching as you jiggle underneath him. He takes in every curve, every feature, every sound that escapes you, including the vulgar squelching coming from between the two of you.

He leans down and grabs the back of your neck, forcing you to look at the sight between you.

“You see that princess? See that pretty little mess you’ve made? Such a good girl…” he praises.

Your eyes lock at his impossibly large member penetrating you. Tears prick your eyes as he releases your neck, and guides his hand to your over stimulated bundle of nerves, stroking soft circles. You throw your head back, releasing louder, almost pained moans as he continues to push you.

“Come on baby, I know you can give me another…” He said between pants.

“I-it’s t-to muuuuuuch!” You cry.

“Shh baby I know you have another one in you… just let go for me. I’ve got you.” He lowers himself down again, silencing you with more sound swallowing kisses.

Your hands find his shoulders, digging your nails deep into his skin. He groans and bites your lip, dragging his tongue over the stinging sensation.

You drag your nails down his back, trying to ground yourself from this impossible high he’s got you on. You feel your white hot release coming, and with just a few more thrusts, he’s got you careening over the edge again.

Logan’s fist meets the wall with a loud *thump*. His release came on him so hard from the way you were scratching and sobbing for him, that not only did he cum hard, he punched the wall even harder.

He stills while still inside you, panting loudly. You can feel him twitching inside you, and you can’t help the disappointed whimper that escapes your lips as he slowly pulls out.

“Shh baby.” He leans down and kisses you gently. “Wait here.” You felt Logan get up. It’s not like you could see him. Stars clouded your vision from your most recent orgasm. You couldn’t hear much either honestly, and just as you think you heard him leave, he reenters your room with a warm rag and a glass of water. He places the water on your bedside table. He smiles at the mess on the bed, the mess you both made together. He gently crawls over you, placing gentle kisses up your leg as he softly wipes your swollen cunt. He smiles and hums as your hips buck, your core still entirely overstimulated. He places a soft kiss on your clit, and wipes the rest up.

He kisses your breasts, then your shoulder, and then your lips. If it weren’t for those kisses, you would’ve passed out right there, lulled to sleep by his gentle demeanor after being utterly obliterated.

He brings the cloth to your face, turning it over to make sure he was using a clean side.

“Are you alright?” He asks as he wipes away the tear trails from your cheeks.

“Mhmm…” you respond.

“Ah ah… use your words baby girl.” He strokes your forehead with his thumb.

“M-ok” you manage to mumble. “N-you can stay if- if you want.” Your small, dazed smile makes Logan laugh softly.

“Don’t worry about me, pretty girl. You need to rest.” He strokes your hair and moves some of it out of your face. He loved seeing how cock drunk you were, and the scent... he couldn't get enough of how your entire apartment reeked of sex.

You didn't need much convincing, because you quickly drifted to sleep. Logan smiled and looked up at the hole in your wall. He silently cursed to himself, already pissed he had done the same thing to your living room wall.

The next morning when you woke up, your apartment smelled like paint. You looked around to see you were alone, and your heart sank. You lift your head enough to see a small piece of paper next to the untouched glass of water from the night before. You slowly reach for the letter, eyes straining to focus on the scrawled handwriting.

*Good morning pretty girl. I'm sorry I had to go. I repaired the holes we made in your walls. Call me, if I missed a spot, or... if you wanna make some more. 111-111-1111 -Logan*

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆